Tendencies

Tendencies…
Frequencies…
Tempting me…
to resent the leap
it took for me to leave a peak
for verdant valleys
and urgent tallies
of recurrent follies
that humbled and brought wisdom.
I tumbled across visions
interwoven with religions
‘til I read words telling me to let it flow.
So here goes…
Here goes nothing and everything.
Here goes a heart open to aches that furrow brows.
The clever reign where the not so clever feign that they know.
Faithless… the turning… the yearning
for a space where nimble mind may alight for a time.
We seek surcease from uncertainties.
And trade them for the clinging taint of certainty.
We sell ourselves out for comforting back pats.
We sell ourselves short cavorting with our backpacks,
heavy with the accoutrements of our acumen.
We carry untold treasures.
We tarry on cold ledges awaiting the faith for leaps.
While the faithful sleep like bambinos exhaling frosted breath.
By frost the bow and bridge are called to being…
chakra shades and all.
Sacral space evolved…
The lower being and higher being merge.
There are no lanes
in this endeavor where forgotten pains
emerge and make it clear nothing is forgotten.
The ill-gotten goods you unconsciously despise
for what they remind you you have become
if you are mindful…
If your mind’s full… Empty it.
Breathe a little.
Reclaim who you were born to be.
Let that which must die die.
Reclaim your throne…
Don’t frown here in the darkness.
Feel it as it goes.
Don’t call the law.
Embody truth… again.

Errol Percival Jr.

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Hunting

Hunting…
Finding time elusive.
The illusory evasion…
The lunacy coercion
to concur in their conquering of your timelessness.
That essential recognition that eternity is in this breath…
that the whole journey is in this step.
Take it surely.
Balance on the cusp of full potentiality.
Accept not the limits of the program.
You craft code.
You are captain and vessel.
You are fulcrum and level scale,
when you choose.
Power is in the choice
and thusly on the raised voice.
Raised as in cultivated- cured of the ails of stifling society…
pure as if unappraised, unjudged…
Unruled hence uncorrupted by prevailing paradigms
that refuse to budge, but must when the waters come.
Be they rains, rivers, or seas that seize back for nature
what we have pulled out of balance.
Oh what webs we weave when our very selves we contrive to deceive.
They would label clouds lazy like they do cats.
Yet the confined ones are the only ones I’ve seen fat.

Black-Cat

Daiikiru Akasha Maximillion

Loose Goose

Loose Goose
Truth proved.
Sooth enthused.
Thusly is it always.
Trust me… All these hallways lead now here.
We found fear.
Leave our gear.
Seething seas… Teething beasts…
Repent… Lead.
Lead yourself deep.
These waters upkeep
mists on mountainsides.
Rifts amongst A-and likes…
Drifts and dams… Desires and design.
Swift my plans… Real fire resigns
to light up where it resides
like Christmas lights.
This fits just right.
Resist one’s plight it persists, it is said.
Is that right?
From truth exact life.
Come loose; react nice.
It is never all it’s cracked up to be.
No one has to act tough for me…
especially me.
Walk and talk love.
Exude a well being.
May all know peace.
Errol Percival Jr.
Goose and cobra...

Pain Sense

Have you seen my pain?
It resides where art stems from.
It tidies the tides of my musings.
Have you heard my pain?
It is in the hollow portion of my laughter.
It lends resonance.
Have you smelled my pain?
It wafts under the doors I keep barred.
It permeates my essence yielding compassion not complaint.
Have you tasted my pain?
It tastes like yours, albeit nuanced by my seasons.
Its flavor grows on you and I, evoking broken molds.
Have you felt my pain?
It’s ok if you haven’t.
I don’t wish it on anyone.
Daiikiru Akasha Maximillion

Oh my…

Oh my…
Weariness…
wearing this shabby treatment on the sleeve
where the heart used to be.
jaded and jangling danger
alarms sound
alarmed now
facades slip…
veils fall away…
you’re no angel ether baby…
lips sync with the halo…
formation foundation fame leads to polarization effect
love hate relations slip back and forth on thin lines
and razor edges…
fickle flickers and aching tickers…
go hand in hand…
skipping like stones over seas of trends…
plots and plans…
of revenge
two wrongs make two wrong
the self-righteous are often too wrong
for far too long to amend their ways
for fear of shame in admitting
flawed judgment
some would slay to save face
oh my…
omens opened…
question the quotings…
memes set in motion
sneaking generalizations
seeking emulation of some ideal
that works in theory but not really
not for these nimble nuances
that dance an upper room jig
zigging and zagging
dipping and dabbing
you’ll never master by dabbling…
failed spell casters resort to stabbing
jabbing sour grape rhetoric resides behind lips
they poke their heads out now and then
some are too power inebriated to spot them
oh my…
humility…
yet we are more than just options
free the pictures of captions
they tell you what to see
they leave naught to imagination
they tell you what to think and you believe
oh my…
indoctrination…
social media guinea pigs are we
or are we?
Twitter Tuskegee
Facebook is a freebie
That’s becoming just like T.V.
Freud and Bernays…
Practice and theory
we are made by what we make
we are mated kings and queens yet pawns at play…
in what are we engaged…
Oh my…
Love…
love now before it’s too late…
don’t be strategic
be honorable and brave.
wash off the world
wash off the taint…
look deep into real eyes…
stoke the fire that’s faint and fading from neglect
take spark and make conflagration
glow in the dark that the lost may find their way
waver not… lest you would make all prior efforts waste…
hide no more…
master peace
unveil your radiant face.
Daiikiru Maximillion

ZEN-CIRCLE

 

Tired

Tired…
Tired for no apparent reason to those outside…
outside of what is concealed behind veiled pain…
How dare I share such debilitating energies of loss and abandonment?
How dare I bid another drink from a soiled grail?
How dare I remain and wallow in such?
How dare I abuse this life infused dust…
with tantrums…
It didn’t go my way… yet.
My way remains to be seen.
As of now fingers point to the way and I look in that direction…
and that direction…
and that direction…
None lead to correction of missteps that bid me view myself as misfit…
for so long…
compounded by how long I held on…
Love strived valiantly but in the end fear won.
Well that was almost the end.
Fear had its parade and such.
While love laid hemmed up…
strapped like suspenders to a body of dirt
and a body of work secured in knapsack.
I trusted in a lie but tied a hump to my back
for the house was never locked due to lost and never recovered keys.
So I was in the club looking like a camel even after my release.
Habits are insidious…
Protective measures reveal the weakness.
Aggressive levers are pulled by the weakest…
for every blessed thing…
All they wage is war…
on everyone… for even their smile is often deception…
a momentary lull in the onslaught upon wills
to attain their own ends.
Enough!
Three fingers point back at point blank.
It wasn’t all bad. It couldn’t have been.
Foresight is more sight.
Hind sight is blind sight to a degree…
for one looks through conclusion clouded memory.
We often see what we want to see even when it’s not what we want to see.
I know my love is real.
I know I gave of myself.
In the end all is well.
I refuse to vow never to do it again.
Wholehearted love is not a scar when the pains pass.
It is a superpower tempered in the fires of doubt and deception
That emerges even more brilliant than before.
This isn’t from cultivation.
This is how I am wired.
Acknowledging this… I am no longer tired.
Love do your best and your worst… Just don’t ever retire.

Daiikiru Maximillion

I…

I…
I don’t know what will come of this… yet.
I’m facing my comeuppance… blessed.
Karmic aggression… quick…
Stone… splash
Spit… slap…
Slip… crap…
Gift… rapped…
Split tabs…
It… tagged…
Game! Bragg.
Is that not a fort?
We cannot afford more mechanics of war.
Through machinations madly devolved…
to base beings… in haste bleeding…
what we could be seeding.
It seems our dealings constitute a beating
of oft’ dead warhorses
and death knells
we dance to dirges…
What is the purpose…
What is the proper pose
some propose if not groveling?
On the surface triumphant yet cowering…
cowering from the reality and the harrowing
notion that delusion, illusion, and deception rule the day.
What are we empowering when we let such and such hold Sway?
I’m far from having all the answers…
or all the questions for that matter.
Don’t know if it’s me or the world that’s madder…
We are the world…
Some say there’s no matter…
as such…
Ask us when we’re tranced up…
or martyred or hemmed up by charges trumped up.
First world problems…
How many worlds…
How many pictures?
How many words?
What is not scripture?
What is not scripted?
Who’s not conscripted?
Where does conflict live?
Where does it knot?
Where does it stop?
Where does it start?
Where do I start?
Where does the world end?
There is no when.
All is movement.
even unseen wind…
The winds of change
blew someone’s hat down the street.
Chasing it, stumbling, them and Cadillac grills meet.
Ludicrous… liberal application of elbow grease.
to the wheels of the beast’s conveyance…
shouldering beliefs contrived and given
to achieve an end…
Perceive what is forbidden
and what remains unforgiven.
Redeemed is just a shift in perception.
What you deem yourself you become.
Some seek possession.
What possesses but demon?
What corroboration but seasons girded with trappings for reason?
We go with societies flow.
Contrary to nature,
we mold ourselves,
culling our souls for these nations,
committing spiritual treason.
The well of ancestors is deep.
Even the genes you don’t wish to but must keep speak.
Are you listening?
Or has the world’s noise drowned them out?
Many walk in shame but sound devout.
Who’s that whistling?
What’s word of mouth but needless distinction
for wayward diction
best geared to fiction by omission?
Hearsay I dare say is heresy of the highest order.
I speak universally…
Not under the auspices of the Holy See to no degree.
I seek to dispense with deception totally.
I won’t concede to any attempts at holding me
to words that didn’t come through me.
For these are the only verifiable divine conduits
upon which to base congruency.
I’m only true if I’m true to me.
You all are me.
We all are I.
I love me…
Open your eyes.
Daiikiru Maximillion.