we all adored the fireplace built-in our beloved library,
its greatest mission of keeping us glowing while browsing,
and oh dear, we browsed, halfway through which,
knowledge was left barefoot in front of its speech,
inhumane master of effort,
exercising pack of matches for its very reach,
it took only One spark of blasted spiritual paper,
as I recollect, Joy titled it...
'' appropriate negligence ''
a pleasing story, 'I' thought,
yet wrangles with Joy as agreed,
for nothing indeed.

'rainfalls of divine ****** flooding intelligence...
through a calculation of movement,
within each heartbeat has stopped,
nearby 'I' analysed will deliver me,
just before it chews its love and then swallows.'

Perfect between breath assets!
Freedom, such a goody!
To have experienced freedom from time to time is madness!
How can anyone experience 'freedom' at all!
It is merely a background...
In which all experiences happen from time to time.
Mad, mad world!
~

'intrepid as convenient,
splashing ink of gasping paragraphs,
resulting in opinion,
unhesitant,
within ever sinking glory,
parading's story of its cosmic commodity.'

'the' illusion of being,
mind's tool,
fool,
manipulated nature of its  phantom.'

'writers wrote,
sages spoke,
composers composed and performers performed,
they gave it all to its role,
One genius spread inside million 'boxes',
within each of which had a 'bluebird' in the heart.'

'Enforcement' motions are 'not' for everyone!
Throughout its Act,
the ''Clown Above'' Is always happy,
Especially when doesn't show.
~

'extraordinary tiny boxes!
wrapping caution of belief,  
within a gift of comprehending motion,
jumping higher undercliff.'

'I' dreams of a dream crosser...It cut across in the bark with a fine 'mind'! In silence, passion runs through the empty pages of its anonymous author.
~

There is ''essence'' in the air, empty of human's tragedy,
empty of human's bliss. 'This' poetry has run out its dimension in Being needn't began.
~

''Under orange trees,
bare-footed lemons sipping apple tea!
Fine 'I thought's a dead bee,
flying high on the bottom of Its cup.''
~

The olive branch!
An earthly representative of peace. Yet, 'olives' aren't everyone's favoured 'snack'. It wants to be treated, smoothed or cured before it is even remotely embraced, and even then, parts of its character still won't have it on a 'pizza'. Furthermore, blending mediations
accommodates high manners, and even when flourishing, aren't always appreciated. Chewing 'olive's spread is empathising, for it, Self needn't understanding in its eternal ignorance of being fed.

'When the Birth cord of Ego enthralling phenomenon is wrapped tight throughout hyperboles, A mass-concentrated caesarean is birthing its tools in steady rips off One, in escaping its distasteful option.'
~

'It calls 'me' good but I am ~ not.
It calls 'me' bad yet I am ~ not.
Being 'bad' by doing good and good by doing 'bad', Ego's fostered
bond within thought's prayer adorable trials, turned into 'God's fella
crowd's liberation, now's chipping its topography foundation.'
~

'...στη ζωή,
ο θάνατος δεν χρειάζεται να σε βρει,
έχει ήδη!'
~

'...transmutation,
praying now won't help!
hopeless it seems as 'I' hold it,
leaving no marks from its paint.'

'a mind, a prisoner of thought,
what from whom to where and how is gonna be...?
a man can find its way towards commitment,
when free, to walk away within.'

'in the root of its heart,
laid buried in sleep,
dreaming of light,
it rose and crawled to the Sun,
only to see,
light shone bright,
in the heart of its seed.'

'It sat next to silence,
harkening the rhythm of the tides,
saw 'their' holograms as timeless dancers,
tiptoeing in the soil of barren' mind.'
~

It guards been guarded while guarding the guard. Its stamina is nothing in plenty! Mind's twisting its neat undergarment, proclaiming it freedom's eagerly doormat.  
~

'...once you come undone,
''who'' do you need above its below,
and ''what'' do you love below its above...'
~

'...mind struggles for A title,
awake it sleeps,
down up the hills,
the wait of never 'I' witness,
between the dots it never kills,
deep wordless breath...'

Cloud's gravity!
Hauling its royal dogma of how soon is too soon for a fool to 'die' before it retires, In reaching the picks of its crown!
~

'I' welcome 'you',
Breathing,
as I ~
never had to.'

'dream's Being,
in Peace,
I, the glorious Ego,
Am a shape of a cloud.'
~

Nothing is suffered nor has reached!
Yet, Human strains are traded fancy bubbles of love's vapoured devotion as in reality, 'their backbones' are already broken...with 'caution'.
~

'Can you feel It!
Can you?
And as you do...Just wait!
Is not It...
The question within stars' reflection
Is reaping all you've got!
Unzipping Human uniform!
Departing,
Not...'
~

'... script's data,
typography's dead man's memoir,
inking vowels
of a barren mind.'
~

'I hold no memory for things I've learned,
nor for what I've read,
nor for things apprehended nor heard,
neither for people nor displays,
weighing nothing,
acquired nothing,
'I' knows
child's ignorance!
its enigma is sluggish,
inexperienced in conceiving deliberately,
grasping silence,
incapable of sound's unbroken thinking,
I, within 'its' story...
am barely pronounced.'
~

'gods' in a set of 'arms',
charming perception of self,
unfolding band's instruments,
playing each other at once.'

'quiet anticipating,
picked the most suitable spot,
for its greatest entertainment,
all theatres are shut.'

This is not a rehearsal 'my' love,
This, Is the real thing 'he said',
After sitting in silence for hours, I said 'let's talk', let's hear',
- Oh, no dear, please join me for a cup of tea instead - '
It was a man who was enjoying 'his' silence, simply a man who couldn't pretend.

'...an oasis in the desert,
Human haplographies
swimming in Dead Sea scrolls,
wise beyond its understanding,
ignorant beyond its role.'
~

Piece by piece they kept breaking your body,
It was a way to make themselves feel,
Exercising love out of habit was their favourite hobby,
Out of which you were left with nothing to heal.

'now's getaways,
an elegant escort of its inner satisfaction,
humanity's courage sold within its loving comfort...
how high did 'you' bet?
did 'you' get high enough to bet!'

'you' can get busy living,
once gone through a drainage pipe,
'Self's redemption turns into a movie.'

'lost exteriors, dehydrated inks splashed imagination over-flooded desert's recreational mirage, out of thin air perpetrated! its essence sank! it does seem to be watching over while observing the above... needn't saving, needn't anything love, without a trace was found when faded, inside 'this' fire, grew the heart of a courageous moth.'
~

'marked,
above ~
below itself,
indefinite lives,
ahead ~
behind itself,
rest needn't.'
~

'how an authentic apology glances at what true forgiveness does...,
'the' paint of panorama's risen recognition of a departed artisan,
sinks long before any of its lines can proclaim itself an Art.'

Alkaline concepts of human satire require liquid.
Cruising against or down rivers still, cry 'me' a river!
Up and down,
Its mind's preys are swimming as one.
~

'...it soaked by the lake,
of mind's whispering willow,
as Silence,
I hear its core,
whipping the current of tears.'  
~

tracking flashes,
examining count,
passing round near,
you say I am a puppet,
eager to play with the sound,
'active' swim shore off meditation,
I am a puppet you adore.'

'I' welcome 'you',
breathing,
ought I never had to.'

'falling for this Human form in which none is born ...
why altering belts!
this rollercoaster is glorious!
dodging the bullets
glancing now at its grin,
found later they **** from within.'
~

'within the cage's breathing,
senses are Ego's favourite stage,
'alive' nor 'dead',
the human collector is awake,
as billion of lives are rented sleep in its eternal 'bed'.
~

'Loosen its grip while dragging a holy brick around personage's neck!
It is one 'hell' of a maker,
waving a finger in a land of  lost hands.'
~

'Comes a time', when it feels so good to be in a traffic jam or irritated on a top of a mountain, even jogging with snakes in freshly clipped grass! When there're no parts of me enslaving its labour, nor I being aground. Ah, Peace, whatever life's delivering, I don't mind.
~

'rips out the guts of knowledge,
each stitch of your costume,
every layer, zero grand design,
eardrums receiving frequencies,
love's below as above.'

'showers of Grace ...
route's flooding,
beyond surfaces,
I am free,
embraced.'
~

'sweating for its meat,
self-fed gets comfortably indeed,
yet a wolf who wears fleeces...
is a funny looking sheep.'