Death Considered

Death can be tragedy,
Preceding a majesty.
For some it's an ending,
For others it's, mending.

The end of descending, 
Begins a new rending.
Bending space-time,
To fine chimes,

Silly rhymes, silly rhymes, silly rhymes...

...As time draws to a close unity.
Loves divine opportunity.
Me? Well me, 
I found purity.

As space rose to toast ghosts, most verbose.
These hosts of lifes coasts, so engrossed.
In our physical journey.

Yet still.

They so wanna see
Blisssss.... 
In reality.

Death, like your breath is a point on a curve.
Macbeth! When it's fully observed.
For some it’s absurd, for others reserved.
Judgements Herd.
 
Many fearful birds, prefer instead, their turds blurred.

It's a mystery
It makes history 
Invokes some toward glum misery.
  
Yet, like volcanic caldera.
Tends the ends of an era.
The start of an intake
For those experiencing remake.
 
Cheerily, 
Death most curiously, 
Simply  IS...

The onset of clarity.
A clarity for, and of, WE.
A clarity that one day,
All of we.
We all shall see.

And there is, 
Most simply and absolutely 
nothing to fear.
My dear.

Oh dear.
My dear, dear departed.
So near and yet so far.

Blessings to one and all!

We are one and I love us.
You Am, We Am, I Am 
In Love
Space time will focus divine intent.
God Bless xx

Contemplations

I come not to give

But offer myself gladly

I come not to take

But will gratefully receive

I come merely to BE

And through the bliss of this moment

Become the highest expression of my human self.

Perspectives

Photograph: Stephen Wilson/AFP/Getty Images

What’s a perspective? Your single view,

With mine too, or do you slew my true?

Take Ireland’s tricolour, it's representative,

Three's so few. Already knew didn't you?

 
Green is seen as free Republic. It means,

For others envy 'n' jealousy, slicks of sick!

For me it’s natures love. Heals better than

A health systems shoves in gloves, Pathetic!
 
Next white, so bright, see peace do you

Between the two, or cowardly surrender?
So subjective this reflective directive. Ego

For me I see, ergo male and female power.

 
Last is orange, hold! 'tis gold, so I’m told.

I see double! Ulster’s trouble now rubble!

Traffic lights, ready to incite or mend bends,

Yet for me it's divinities creative certainty.

 
Perspectives right, have might, often fight.

For their right to ignite the brightest light!

So I now go, so very slow, so I may know.

Please just accept, I suspect, all are correct.

By Stephen Ross

Pep Talk - By Stephen Ross

You never stop shining, you're just like the sun
It's clouds downy whining, that make us feel glum

Storms in for a while, obscuring what’s bright
Rain draining the smile, ‘til it feels like it's night

But the truth of the matter, most fortunately
Is clouds soon do scatter, and set the sun free

For me you are sunshine, you’re food from the gods
Remember the fun times, to hell with the sods

Your nature, your stature, your radiant self
You make people happy, you fill us with wealth

This Song's For Helen - By Stephen Ross

Image by FlippinFlakes

Once was a girl with furls of curly pearls. A joyous fright, her sight is now my plight. Heart leapt as I reject those swept heaps of tears forgotten. Do I still love her?

Years of fears since she steered her fiery locks toward my jocks rocks. Suddenly judders within gutters, stutters. South went my mouths doubtful pout. She to me is more beautiful, for he made me feel most undutiful. With another was she, have respect, he suspects and so projects protection.

Trapped, wrapped unable to move. Into her eyes grooves which prove I'm so unused to it. Stay quite still until shrill pills of ecstasy drill into my situation. How could I tell her?

I feel wrong writing this song, for it's of love. Yet I wish to shove her man into the gutter, so I may have her. What kind of man am I when I can't put aside my desire? How can it be, that once I be sat next to her I consider acts that lack peaceful slumber.

Oh my god, I can't stop! Thinking about our once locked lust, drives me to desires to hold her in my arms. I once left then lost her. Why did I have to go? I don't know. It seems I needed to leave for Steve. No peace from this ceased creased release. I need repair? I seek her care, not very fair to present partner.

Emotions are lotions, for the notions of past devotions. I'm now locust. Focused on her memory, all I can see is our history, one single night of passion. Full of my own agenda I must surrender, to her choice of boys, for I like him. I like her far more. Her I adore.

Sat like a cat, rapt, internal gasps. Think ice rink, cool your tool fool. She be with he, now deal. Don’t steal her, merely feel her energy. It sizzles within. Every time heart races, crimes chime minds yourself. Heart hurts, wolves cursed, worse is it wurst lurst?

Electricity is all I feel, static frantic romantic desire to retire with her. To my room I assume, to consume her natural scent, my heart spent. Eyes spies each other, does she feel this zoo flu too? Or can her man detect the electric static? Yet ecstasy panics. Should I kill Jack for Jill?

Selfish game! It’s always the same. Am I in lust, a mere disgust, or is this loves emerge once more? Splurge dirge absurd. I'm such a fucking nerd. Relax now cast yourself. Start pure heart and dart yourself. Fart apart the cart of tarts fashions. Dashing flashing passions now rationed.

Give up this unjust lust. For me, to be like the sea surrender, her life so very tender. Seed Deed dead instead. Understand life is grand. Her man stands next to her. Expects to be with her, accepts this is love for her. Pray for her and him, to swim regardless.

Through pools of tools and fools like me. Take glad history, commit to mystery, Gods blistering temptation. Frustration. Meditation. Sacred Station. Contemplation. This dilation shall place your peace. Release your needs, Steves’ greedy geese. For lust within, now dim.

Fleece their peace and grease their needs instead. Adore instead their magnificence. What difference will it make? To me a stayed lake for heavens sake, for them their gems of divinity twinkles. For one sure day, I’d say, I'll find I’m paid. In love, not lusts’ disgusted un-trusted mustard. Be true to you, she and he. For with space_-*-_time will focus divine intent.

Correction made. Directed intention now true, for he and you both, I'm pleased you have each other. I'll keep my eye out for another. I'm sorry. This wrong song is a worry as I fondly hurry. Its clearly unfinished do, as three become free of me. I love you two. At least for me I’m still free to be with He.

This song is, blends mended, for his lens. Now friends, at last cast. This Song is for Helen.

Revelations or Retardations? It's Transpersonal.

Photo by Bruce Bennett

Introduction

You are inside this musical leviathan or mule, depending upon your inclination, so those closest to you have greater influence upon your natural instincts and awareness. And thus there is need of a conductor who coordinates the complete fleet. Who unites the whole and produces a synchronised masterpiece. 

Body

Ships surge forth in battle formation on stomachs full of half digested meat. Or when the time is appropriate Retreat! dissolve the fleets meat, down to percussive beat, Manufique! quite unique! and at times the slow low flow of the peace and the pure given Know, go slower still….. but times is times and there is then-times and there is sometimes. And peace within the rhymes - and the rhymes may go below, both the peace and the snow. And on the rhymes way back up, through the foetal-muck and suck, then emerge to... cluck? Jungle sounds, curious gibbons baiting twine, drinking wine, being fine. ALL THE TIME. But now I know sleek pure flow and how to go from slow below, into the air, which is why I care, so much for you. And You and YOU. So I say good bye my fly sky guy. I’ll come again because I love you. But first a test you’ll be impressed, or me depressed. For Once you know his driven Snow, that’s slow… that’s low…below. You’ll have no fear of steering clear the suicidal. Know loves command it’s not a stand, merely a hand. Clenched like a fist or waving curiously?

Refrain

This is my gift to you. Can one, some or none of you, do something in relation to this piece of work, Inspyrd through heart and brought into focus through ME, my Exspyrd, Stephen or Steve. In relation to all of you and my recent dive into to heaven (and testy step into hell). I am a fisherman and I’m fishing for the stars. My closest friends for a time, But with distance chime. Tinkle, plink. Shhh. Cheep cheep. Shhhhh. Little by little…shhhh. Go back to sleep…….shh. I love you.

Revelation

Blowing wild, making child. Grunts and groans once many unknowns. But now I return with a new ribbon! Once given. Stalig, tights are mights that do glisten. Listen! Could I rhyme when I left you? No! Could I find a rhythm to go, so, slow, or speed it up buttercup? No slo joe. So? I blow! How can it be? This mystery? Mystical chants. Peculiar rants?....----****codes? lodes n loads? Too person-al? Yes I can tell. But we are indeed three. But also know, slo, joe, for you I’ll find, a key to unwind, your own thrown known. And with your skill, which indeed is a thrill. You’ll look behind, and YOU will know you are all small gods. Each and every one of you.

Realisation

But we have a barrier between the See, and the many. And it is this I must learn to re-Press with little distress, if I wish to express myself to you, in beautiful and magnificent wonder. I complete Myself but you complete Me faster. Should I continue?

Cipher

Will you have faith in Self?
To allow the creative wealth to express from within you? St. Eve is Steve and so Steve has three. And you have 4 Amma and IAM is 3. but free steve also has 4 and 5 and 8 (=17 ~ 1+7=?) and it is 8 that is Steve’s destiny. Notice me, for a free key? (?=SHIFT+8) Isn’t it great! Or maybe it’s a frown across your wary crown?

Human Potential

Or are you smiling? I would like to drop by and pick up my camera later. Will you be there? I would like to interview both of you and YOU about me. You knew me at important points before, during and after my re-Activation. Now you begin to see the results. I suspect that I have consciously remembered how to re-capture my own imagination. I need others perspectives to BE a fully expressed me. I can instruct others to increase theirs, or work with people creatively to magnify both their and my own personal latent talent. Wanna share? I wish to offer all I see and BE to anyone who cares or dares to listen.

The Dream - What could it mean? - By Stephen Ross

I woke up this morning, with a dream in my head

A row of straight houses, faces angled with dread

With the exception of one, a most beautiful sight

not quiet in dead centre, rather off to the right

A curved yellow cottage, with hazel windows of pine

Inside a robin red breast, was gently drinking some wine

I'd been down this road, several times here before

So why had I never noticed it, so colourful and unexplored.

The name on the doorstep said welcome, please no boots

I began to get excited, my heart raced like chaotic flutes

I pressed upon the knocker, it gave way unexpectedly

Soft, smooth and silky, not taught and stiff like me

Instead of a door knob, this door was quite weird

threads of delicate cotton, bristled up as I neared

The cotton door prised open, as I caressed its pink lock

A crack gave way gently - Screams, Oh yes! I should certainly have knocked

A light oozed from the hallway, windows shattered with sounds

As I crept gingerly forward, terrified by what I might find.

As I peeked round the corner, a most interesting sight

The red breasted robin was having a fight

I watched with amusement and particular glee

As the bird manoeuvred skilfully upon a blue tree

The branches swung wildly wrapping round robins trunk

As the leaves scattered gracefully, leaving puddles of junk

The two combatants done fighting, collapsed in a heap

Wrapped round one another, no longer able to leap

Having enjoyed the drama, and understanding it dead

I crept from the house, and woke up in my bed.