in turmoil i reside
and attempts to turn the tide
result in more despite…
so i turn my eyes inside
and play leaned to the right
no more returning vibes
i shall generate
no anger no ego
no answer to evil…
fire and fire continue to burn
tired so tired of feeling concerned
for eggshells and egg crates
and handbaskets and last straws…
i’m free of those
i declare it so
no expectation or hope
i’m gonna live the life destined for me
no response to waving your weapons at me
dreams for me are still within reach
so extend my hand i must
and as i make my thrust
to forsake the rust
at the bottom of the steel drum
where it seems i was pushed
But i actually stepped
i shake off all doubts
and embrace my breath
focused i stay…
Errol Percival Jr.(Daiikiru Akasha Maximillion)


Hmmm…I Am…

I am the beginning, middle, end and also the cover.

I am the ever helping hand the unrequited lover.

When desires are released freedom is achieved.

Without the filter of belief the truth can be perceived.

I’ve searched high and low, 

inside and outside, eyes opened and closed

seeking the Great Spirit his face never showed.

Till I looked at the seeker and found that the face was my own.

Not the man in the mirror or some bearded man on a throne.

But the spark that was there even when home was a womb.

It’s the I am that will return to the source when this body is consumed.

Not that it ever left.

This life conceals a clever jest,

fooling us into feeling separate.

We are all one thing, one world, one ocean, one stream,

possessed of one love one life one hope and one dream.

We should play chess with all pieces as kings and queens.

No black or white pieces no separate teams.

No incomplete moves through the switching of regimes.

Let’s start what we’ll finish…instead of ending what we didn’t begin.

Let thought diminish and let intuition stand.

That is the only way that we’ll be free again.

But I am free is what some might say.

Is there nothing from which you wish you could hide or run away?

or maybe you already have

ran from some fearful future or some hurtful hidden past.

thought perceives past and future

intuition perceives what’s at hand

the now is eternity all else is fiction

history books are like dishes

taste depends on who fixed them

the true future is another present

the one in your head is merely a figment

vain imagination like a God that’s indignant

we cast our own weaknesses upon the waters, storms, and earth shifts

and claim that it’s a vengeful entity punishing us on purpose

What of those who sow blessings and tend to reap curses

Or vice versa this might seem subversive

until you really look a bit deeper than the surface

and recognize awareness that is choice-less hence remorseless

operating within eternity doing what it does with impunity and certainty

no weighing balancing or measuring

no murder or retribution in which to find its pleasure in

No side shifting no pride in listening to praises of its might

No ego wrestling no evils resting in the nest of the night

What man creates sometimes destroys 

the evil is in the intent not the instrument employed

the world has its cycles… misery precedes joy

they make each other evident in whatever order they occur

bliss is central eternal not mental un-shifting uneventful

I am soulful yet thoughtful beholding the awful full of joy yet sorrowful

I spread love and my sorrow goes

Man once had a god for everything a god for wind a god for rain

Me I see god as everything even me as I entertain

thoughts of redemption born of hope for a change

born of the silent sound of third eyes opening

and worldwide awakening so we can see we’re all the same

essentially when we get to the bottom of things

divisions and rulings separations and allocations of powers

placed in the wrong hands so long that we no longer recognize them as ours

no matter all’s well that ends well


Daiikiru Akasha Maximillion (Errol Percival Jr.) 






Modest Effort

I see a destiny before me
not pre-ordained
not free of pain
or joys
where mountains are mere toys
in the hands of kings
titans of old
rise and behold
their demise in the cold
stairs spiraling down to heavens
the irony of freezing from fiery breathings
of unyeildingly and untiringly
pressing on…

Daiikiru Akasha Maximillion (Errol Percival Jr.)