Night flight of the moon, the somber sun
Is down and gone and only you remain.
Wild are the ways of the sovereign few
For a socialist sun has scorched the last
Vestiges left of our shrunken liberties.
Scared, those small senators of servility,
Silent as lizards under a noon day sun,
Voted away the hopes, the dreams,
The rights and futures of posterity.
Abandoned, now relying upon ourselves
Alone, we share a republic of the moon.
Popular Posts
-
By its endless ending that makes of death a suicide, new beginning is signified of an eternal recurrence of renewal; coming Spring the going...
-
A rustling high above is come, heard faint is this hurricane of days, storm-dancing trees swaying their slender canopies, in a syncopated vi...
-
Infinitely delayed, with no chance of a departure yet, just stuck here forever, without a reprieve, no leaving and no hoping of it; spiked s...
-
Sparks in the dark ignite; to go to make an offering of light between the possibility and the final performance of the action a hesitation r...
-
Close down eyelid of consciousness. Substitute; cruel remove the cobalt blue from out the crystal skies of hope; replace the Sun of Faith by...
-
Semaphore of their coming dance of leaves, buds are spiking on twigs to announce an early Spring. In their green whispers of such birth, the...
-
In late afternoon light is bent to yellow; To a lamp-vent liquid shallow shadow, That then first turns to an orange hue To splash the bla...
-
A shame and a sorrow and a bereavement of days; Desperate stutter for some consciousness to come: Birth-Daze.
-
Every one who reads this Blog has an interest in improving their physical and psychic abilities, or else why would they be reading this Blog...
-
O to give me just one single candle-light of hope. I'm just a visitor here, am but a temporary transient; soon I will be leaving this pl...
Search This Blog
WAY OF THE SEVEN STARS
Response To That Final Question:
Ignorance is the Bane of Man.
At a distance removed,
Dimly remembered, and
Still not seen distinct,
But yet somehow felt;
What we do sense
Is not reality; is not the Real Thing.
This World is hologram.
Then; for lucid sleep;
For it's just a dream
Within another dream
And we are not awake.
Seven Stars' Song of Revelation
Is possible but through knowledge.
Don't fear nor spurn. Dare to learn:
Assent to and accept this world as it is
Before attempting ascent to any world
Aspired to or wished for. Life's glorious!
That That Is can be known but by few.
Not space, not time, not gravity exists;
But as Extension from Field of Thought.
Be subject to neither church nor crown.
Dread naught. Disdain none: Not One!
Absent That That Is, there's Nothing.
That That Is, IS. That That's Not, IS, too.
That That's Not makes That That Is: IS.
Be subject to neither church nor crown.
Dread naught. Disdain none: Not One!
Absent That That Is, there's Nothing.
That That Is, IS. That That's Not, IS, too.
That That's Not makes That That Is: IS.
That That Is makes That That's Not BE.
By rowing to That That Is, I become "I."
Wind + Water = Wave. As THOUGHT is
Wind + Water = Wave. As THOUGHT is
The Heart and The Nave of The Wheel.
Worlds are created from Thought alone.
That which we will do is because of that
What we are. We'll become who we are.
Charity, courtesy, civility, compassion,
Are cardinal spokes making civilization;
Chivalry forms center, hub's circle core.
IS is! Be not the slave of some other's I.
This, Creed of our Seven Stars Society;
This, The Teaching of the Seven Stars:
No man can be happy if he should choose
To be exile from his own nature and soul.
ALL IS THOUGHT ILLUMINATING BEING
Precognitive Prescient Prophetic Poetry by WILLIAM O'CONNOR
Friday, April 9, 2010
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
WILLIAM O'CONNOR
Blog Archive
- ► 2016 (159)
- ► 2015 (144)
- ► 2013 (153)
- ► 2012 (133)
- ► 2011 (122)
- ▼ 2010 (101)
No comments:
Post a Comment