Kissing Lips

Gazing into a pucker of red passion. Lips entwined, overlapping one another, lost in intense cupidity. No right nor wrong exchange or commitment. Only caught in a moment of overwhelming desire. Chemically reacted to create a new universe, a new dimensional world forming.

Rather the kiss is eloquent, soft, or sweet. Rather the kiss is dynamic, hard, or passionate. Rather the kiss brings your life joy, or another’s misery. The kiss is powerful beyond measure. Great jubilation. Great exasperation. A form of expression. A form of love. A form vengeance. A form of wonder.



Body language, voluntarily muscles contracting and retracting in a beautiful rhythm of waves. Mind on ecstasy. Nervous system, calm as can be. Heart rate steadily increasing. Respiratory system on stand-by. If you would only stop to listen, a complete silence is heard. Nothing else matters, but the moment in hand. If you focus your attention on your fingers for a moment, you’ll notice they move in the same rhythmic pattern as your lips.

Closing of the eyes, fixes nothing. Closed them. Keep them shut as much as possible. Light of the lips glow through. Soon enough, your entire body dances as one. For a moment in your life, everything makes sense. Everything becomes clear. Everything is evident. Embrace this. Cherish this. Nothing is more tender. A fondled treasure of kissing lips.

My Dream World

Where souls are indigenous. Where societies are based on gift-economy. Where we are harmonious with nature instead of conquering it. Where we are not conscious of time instead of being controlled by time. Where we are cooperative instead of competitive. Where we are not economic prostitutes. Where materials and possessions are traded for recognition instead of forms of credit. Where the only debt owed is to God. Where judgment and criticism is positive. Where helplessness and selfishness are words of extinction. Where we are oriented by the moment instead of the future. Where holocaust means destruction of hate, fear, and anger. Where war and violence are defied. Where life is not controlled by codes and standards. Where a person is measured by morality instead of illusion. Where laws and punishment systems are primitive. Where our inventiveness of technology are used for greater principle. Where we are only political toward romanticism. Where education is idolized not by paper. Where resources are methodically abundant. Where anyone can be medically and criminally rehabilitated. Where there is no desire for crime or adultery. Where addiction is generosity and consideration. Where true love decides right from wrong. Where we lust for a women’s heart instead of her features. Where a man can conquer his pride. Where we exploit rainbows and spirals, instead of exploiting false-image, self-gratification, and self-glorification. Where we are not classified by ridiculous shades, sexual preferences, and historical backgrounds. Where famine, scarcity, and poverty are ancient words of mankind. Where careers are a 20th century fad. Where idealism is shared and not patented. Where truth hunches over perception. Where dreams caress reality.

The Library

Standing in the middle of a library. Surrounding by knowledge, wisdom, and inspiration. What to read? What to study? Diverse genres of literature. Teachings of love: The Bible, The Qur’an, The Tao Te Ching, The Four Noble Truths of Buddhism, The Book of Mormon and Metaphysics. Teachings of discrimination: Government Propaganda, Avaricious Societies, and Linear Systems of Consumerism. Teachings of meaning: Existentialism, Nihilism, Instinctivism, and Darwinism. A perpetual list of conversion.

Standing there, brain overloaded with confusion. An ineffable feeling of the unfamiliar. Can’t quite put my finger on it. Something feels wrong. Knowledge does not seem to be knowledge at all. It’s as if, knowledge has been manipulated (or mutated) in favor of whom ever chooses to give it. Nothing feels real, my mind spaces in empty corners of new thought provoking idealism. What should I do? Should I choose something? Should I walk away? Should I question how these thoughts were created? Do people think this way? Is it just me? Is it you?

I grow nervously, hands began trembling. I lose sight of who I am, what I am... why I am. My peripheral vision captures photogenic copies of people, yet I can not sense them. Reality tells me they are there, but mentalism swallows reality’s roots. I’m lost, deep in thought. Perception becomes illusionary. Fantasy weaving force. Science seems shattered with a potent thought. Omnifarious wisdom crushing my pathetic and arrogant knowledge. As if I’m shedding an old shell, moving into another. Strange. Bizarre. Mystifying. Can you feel it?

Consciousness eases my mind. Checkpoint. I’m back. “What was that?” I asked myself. I don’t know. I walk out the library, questioning why did I walk-in, in the first place. This is not the first time for me. For whatever reason, it’s a continuous pattern of recedivious gasps. As if, knowledge itself was trying to tell me something. As I look over my shoulder one last time, I notice the library is not what it seems.

Eye's Journey to Tear

A numbing feeling, lost in a mystical mist. No hands to wand, to fan, or clear Eye’s sight. An anesthetic dosage of delusion. Sense is nothing more than an Eye. Thoughts begin assimilating thoughts, and there Eye sees.

Tears flow, unable to blink. An aching stink of truth eradicating the Eye’s pathetic vision of knowledge, wisdom, and reality. Truth is like non you’ve ever seen. The Eye tears only for what the Eye feels.

In the Eye... Creation, evolution, and extinction are juggled in the hands of the Fool. Emotions are a game of marbles. Love and hate are stripes spiraling down the same candy cane. Virtues and vices are a mere window. Impermanence itself is deteriorating. Death intercepts Life, as Life fumbles Death. Everything is imperfectly perfect. The Eye is truth coated with deceit.

Everything entwines. Light is absent. Blinded by darkness. Pupil dilates. A state of emptiness. A state of perplexity. Awareness taunted by fear. Fear lost by seduction. Seduction desperate for attention. Attention arousing awareness, in an despicable orgy of Eye’s passion.

Rather the Eye is tremendously happy or sad, the Eye’s journey is to tear.