Writing
first the devil taught us
he did not exist.
Now ready for his every scheme
still giving our sympathies
not believing his existence
gave him all the power he needed
got it all stated
then just had to lay back
in black
watching us go against another
no today, I will stop,
pay no more sympathies to the devil
Passion can it last a life?
or is it slowly dying
like this fire before me,
lighting these dark desert skies
are all the things changing to
the mundane, unhappy habits
decaying with every breath
burnt down to extinction.
now, the fire we can fuel
now can we revive the passion ?
almost forgotten
like these bones
before me in the desert sands
Flying to Saturn,
ignited by a sound
vibrating in the solar plexus.
Rose up the spine,
took all its time.
At the neck the pressure began to climb,
nods blocking the way.
Spinning out of rhythm the fifth is;
let the deep vibration reset it into tune.
Let it rise to the head,
gently waking the third eye.
Sweeping up into the crown;
see the light pouring down;
blinding the eyes,
and yet the vision’s clearer than ever.
PAST THE WALLS
Floating beyond the four walls, glancing down, how much more can the silver cord be stretched before it snatches. It keeps me bound to the marvels below, and yet I long to reach out and touch the sky. The third dimension remains still to unknown to split, to much left to discover to leave it all behind. Although the mission remains a mystery, the feeling residing inside lets me take a glimpse every once in a while. Until now, no master plan, I only deliver, that is all. Unquestionably the time to go has still to come else I’d be gone since long.
No, still need to explore, there are some things left to do, starting here and now, floating above my personal, demonic four walls. The sky above, unclouded, stars sparkling, as I try to close my eyes, I realize my lids are translucent, as the deep blue see, can sometimes be. I try to move but there remains no physicality in my being. So how can I move, seemingly stuck in this spot above my four walls, I realize a thought is all it took to get out here, another thought getting me over there. Looking down at the city of sin, millions of lights enthralling us to come in, play a game. No not tonight, as I fly through emptying streets, into halls of fame and loss of all; get out look around, the stars above by far more enticing, than this neon freak show distraction. Hanging in the sky black as a raven’s feathers, glowing like sparkling diamonds, suspended in nothingness, defined by darkness. And still their shine is so powerfully piercing through; no darkness can surpass our glowing friends.
Suddenly I see, I am not the only one floating up, see what appears to be other souls, reaching out, going up, some with a cord like mine, some without, lost their last dime, and jumped of the clip to leave worldly matters behind. Where are they headed, not the ones still alive, connected to their body, but the ones that slit the last connection. All of them seem to be headed in one direction, but where does it lead? What is next? Declared dead but obviously something is still there, something which most do no longer care to see, the life-force that brought them here in the first place, remains unchanged, vital.
Calling them to wait for me, so we can communicate. But no, they just motion for me to follow, heading for the Milky Way. I feel my cord strain to keep up, my worldly desires keeping me bound to my body too eagerly to follow, and see what comes next, where our souls head? Exhausted I surrender, turn around, make a final turn and head back to a body, which seems to be asleep, yet strangely conscious I remained all this time… want to see what is next ?
Pain slowly crawling
through me.
Born inside, slowly
creeping out of my skin.
Fear setting in,
gently asking, can you take some more?
Watch the answer formulate in my mind;
whatever you can dish out,
I’ll take in.
Just focusing on the quiet little center;
that none can shatter;
just breathe to ease the pain away.
It’s not the end
lonely man
mend the wounds
head on out forward back again.
Pleasure and pain,
loss and gain,
not far from being the same,
isn’t it insane?
Madness in any direction,
look no matter where
can you feel the friction
in the air?
Go anywhere;
do you see the devil’s been there?
© steve sniukas
Pleasure chasing us,
no desire for the real
madness lying in all of us.
haven’t found one, to truthfully
fit the norm.
still hiding behind the pretense
of normality.
trying to look shocked when the news is on.
this is not just hypocrisy,
try and read between the lines;
merge your halves into the one you can be.
Came to life a dreamer,
precious ability until no longer nurtured;
worlds created in a fragile mind, soul, and heart.
Now, told not to be a fantasist,
focusing only on reality.
Paradox, to me, we should refrain
from what created this reality.
Can not leave our dreams alone
if you care to rise.
A string of words, meaningless without intention.
How to get this intention is the riddle to be solved.
Let the words take you onto the journey,
through minds, of many kinds.
Dream your way trough the words,
speak them out loud. Let them take you to another place.
Divine.
Longing to reach this mountain’s crest,
robed in a cloud.
Reaching out but to far to touch.
Muscles start to burn,
thought has calmed.
Just the motion of steps remains,
one at a time.
Driven by what lies beyond explanation;
too pure to be captured in words.
Took a last step into the cloud,
no longer touched the ground:
weightless this body had become.
Sat over a stone, no time,
just there. (eleven)
When will we become the facades
we surround us in?
Stop playing charades.
No more of the same old talk,
no more play of the same old games.
Known the rules far too long,
broke far too many;
to keep on ignoring:
It will all come back ‘round full circle;
what goes against them;
goes against us.
Karma’s dance;
can you see the cosmic irony?
Mysterious the chants,
enthralling me to this dance,
no more
have I left to fancy.
The Voices in my head growing silent,
with the beating of my heart.
Four and one, slow and calm the breath;
consciousness retreats, lets me see
what lies dormant in me.
Resurface, all looks the same;
but everything has changed.
Beginning to dream a world of unparalleled magnificence .
Freedom reigns,
the tree of knowledge,
the tree of life;
growing their flowers side by side;
spinning and spiraling
through a spoken verse.
The dream of life,
overcoming this reality,
see the magician dance on the wheel.
Desperately in need of
a strangers hand;
to keep me on my chosen path;
plastered with temptation and distraction.
Entered the magic theatre;
there is no turning back.
Paid the price of admission in full;
The mind.
No longer in need to stray from what is ahead.
13 again, death and rebirth, the old dance again.
© steve sniukas
Indifference striking me
left or right, who gives a damn
about redemption.
Hell could not be worse
than this state of affairs,
The world today
about to stand still;
too fake
to keep on revolving, evolving;
a planet without a core.
Redemption’s not today
nor tomorrow
could this day be the last of this vessel
Run, desire,
ran life too long
to still crave the same
old reckless darkness.
Move away
choose to live.
Forget addiction to the flesh
nothing but a shell,
passing in time
to become superseded.
No longer run from thyself,
accept all this
imperfection.
So many reflections
from the past
chasing us through the future,
obsolete passed with time.
Desire of the flesh
darkness, no longer my choice
Is to live.
© steve sniukas
Entering the wheel of fortune,
leaving habits behind.
Welcoming the change,
flexibility becomes the rule:
Nothing is carved in stone.
The same thoughts wondering my head,
for days.
Beginning to feel as though cursed
to spin in circles, by forces unknown.
Considering possibilities,
considerably killing me.
Choices overflowing,
thoughts been over thought, and overanalyzed;
motivation lost:
Still the same keep haunting me, taunting me
the High Priest still looking down on me.
Death on a Sunday afternoon,
the deity calling us.
Atropea, Kali, choose a name;
they are the same.
Red the planet calling,
black the sun has turned.
Night and day
became the same.
As Saturn ascended, four again.
Push the envelope,
watch it over-bend,
realities intermingling:
bending dimensions,
just to watch it all collapse, without
this key.
Open the last chamber,
reside, come down, calm down.
Breathe the (uni) verse,
watch the boundaries
disappear.
Fluorescent light that remains;
bright, and boldly showing the way.