old poetry found while cleaning (from Sept 11th, ’01)

Found this while I was cleaning out the catacombs
 --  otherwise known as a closet.  ;-)
I started writing this moments after I found out
about Sept 11th, 2001 - WTC Tower Attacks.
The poem was finished September 30th, 2001,
and is reproduced for you in it's entirety below ::
--------------------------------------------------

Life as it is fragile,
transient as slipping grains of sand,
slides and moves.
Do not forget love,
as it holds our memories of life's finest.
With love, they shall not be fleeting,
as our time here goes by.
Heed time.
Life yields to it.
Love binds life,
as love is eternal,
so is life.
--------------------------------------
The rest of the poem was added on the 30th
of September, and is below:
-----------------------------

Lucid tranquility,
the water lies.
Solid glass,
chilled ice.
Stretched- acrost a depression of ground.
Stoic yet expansive,
this is the way of the pond,
in the days of cold.
In search of life as embers glow,
smoke wafts through time and the infinite beyond,
and reminds-
of the warmness of the soul.
Hearts bleed,
sliver apart slowly by day,
quickly by lone night.
Blood from broken heart,
weigh down thy broken soul,
thy broken cry out upon the night,
screeching to all and any receptive.
No one listens.
Thy broken soul remains---
Shattered.
Crushed aluminum,
crushed dreams,
a fickle laugh,
hardly an afterthought,
from the mind of he who demolishes,
she who destroys;
All that was known,
and dear.
Bongos,
Guitars,
Instruments of freedom and expression.
Of unbridled passion.
Conveyance through message of simplicity,
and sonic purity.
Rolling from strings n' stretched surfaces.
Resonating and refracting through -
Our auras, and our consciousness.

restoration 2015

Life is precious,

Do not squander possibility.

Do.
Be.

Be ready for the world,
as it does not stand still.

The coming of peace,
and the restoration of order,
the natural order-
is coming.

Rejoice in this truth.
From the chaos shall come order,
but without chaos,
change cannot emerge.

However it is important,
to note that when it does-

It will give rise to-

such clarity,
beauty,
and lifeblood-vigor,

that it all the impending toil and strife,
shall be worth it-
in the end.

Restoration 2015.

authors notes: This poem isn’t one of my creation necessarily… These words “came to me,” as they say. Just sharing – as that’s the intention of what was channeled to bring you this poem. If metaphysics weirds you out, I don’t apologize. Perhaps instead focus on why you’re afraid of what you cannot see and define.
Else, enjoy the channeled message, for what it is. I know I’m not trying to analyze it that much !

~Omar

A poem to read and think about on Valentine’s Day:

The Invitation-

by Oriah Mountain Dreamer
Canadian Teacher and Author

It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living
I want to know what you ache for
and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me how old you are
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love
for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon…
I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow
if you have been opened by life’s betrayals
or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your
fingers and toes
without cautioning us to
be careful
be realistic
to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me is true.
I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself.

If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty,even when it is not pretty every day.
And if you can source your own life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand on the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,
“Yes.”

It doesn’t interest me
to know where you live or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up after a night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.

It doesn’t interest me who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the center of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.

It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom
you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you from the inside
when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself
and if you truly like the company you keep
in the empty moments.

memories

::][the state of democracy][::

Do you hear it?

The sounds of a restless society.

A society consumed by its own cognative dissonance,

yet without clear directives.  

 

The chatter of a nation,

that has realized –

they’ve been stripped of a true democracy.

 

Where do we go, next?

As a people?

As a nation?

 

The truth is – I do not know.

 

But what I do know,

is this country,

no longer functions —

 

by the values,

on which it was founded.

 

That much, is clear.

 

I enjoy the concept of a democratic America as much as you do,

so I simply want you to stop and ask yourself, what can I do,

to improve the quality of life for those around me, and myself?

 

Where can I be a little more tolerant, understanding, and accepting in my life?

and finally – Where can I find those parts of myself that I don’t like,

and fix them, rather than taking ones own feelings of shortcoming – out on others?  

 

Just some food for thought…

the smokescreen of disconnection –

have you ever noticed,

and seen through the smokescreen?

 

have you also wondered,

why nobody seems to care or notice anymore?

 

the great national seance of television and “marketed culture,”

have fractalized society into “lifestyles,” and “statuses,”

and perpetuated the falsity of “difference.”

 

Reunite with your brothers, sisters, mothers, brothers, aunts, uncles, neighbors,

and others.  

 

We’re all in this together.