Weighted Down by the Past


Weighted Down by the Past

Giving light to new possibility

Image taken by Author

Weighted down by the past traumatic memories of old
stronghold on the present moment, the temptation of falling back into oblivion
I breathe, for a moment, capturing this moment
releasing all there ever was and accepting all there ever will be
Melting away the past physical burdens
crippling my mind and flesh meat-eating of thoughts

I pause once more

Giving light to the possibilities of future present tense
besides me — the ancients, guardians, ancestral knowing of everything melting away

It is done.

~Ani Po


This past week proved very challenging, mainly mentally, as the world seemed to have excited the crazy train’s tooting chaotic sounds and spewing tracks of confusing rhythmic tones.

With memories of a weighted past — whispering in the left of inner ears echoing traumatic — attempting to manifest into physical pain.

Acknowledging this crying child of pain — scars surfacing to present times — breathing, integrating past and present — transmuting into future songs of a cyclical occurrence — fading into brightened days of heart-songs bellowing joy.


When the world began its full-court press on my physical memories of traumatic mind-body connections, I breathed new existence into reality.

The above pic illustrates the many layers of our darkened history, literally and metaphorically. From Inca times to post-Inca cultures taking over in our collective selves.


Much gratitude for those who take time to read, ponder, and allow the inner workings of self to come forward. Grateful for the feedback, love shared, and, more importantly, the Dance with Inspiration. Deep Peace.

Joseph Lieungh

Photo by Javardh on Unsplash

Passing of Morning’s Dew


Passing of Morning’s Dew

Foul and Wretched Stench of Life’s sweetest Memories

Image taken by Author. At 17,453 feet above sea level, my thoughts wander and sing

Like a ton of bricks — smacked upside the head — little understanding of how another’s perceptual thought of self-centered reality humbly walked their talk. Accusations fly — entering atmospheric pressures from outer realms of far most galaxies — three possibilities for processing claim.

Head mind captures thought — spinning its web — carrying voices into canyons echoing songs. Here we remain — singing darkened disparity without clarity of knowing all there was.

Heart singing — transmuting energetic reality — giving birth to yet another new galaxy — painting another picture in the canvas of life — fleeting thoughts carried winds. Pooling ardor — tumultuous cyclonic winds — burning wildfire-like presence, are waiting to transform.

Deeper into cosmic inner realms — digesting collective belief — waiting for the passing of another sun’s foul stench passing through another town — sweet memories of who we were, rejoicing on where we sit. Rooted in ancient tongue — darkened sludge sticking a thousand voices chattering about.

The first two verses teasing realities clear — left with bug splatter on the hooded ride to nowhere in particular — car washing of excessive spattering thought externally received — processing commences one way or another — twisted turns, tunnels exiting tune.

Darkened thought enters
bringing terror and fear

Switchwords

Change of movement as such
distraction self-fleeting way

Switchwords

Happy for a second
a cyclical roller coaster of sort

Sitting quietly instead
allowing thoughts
comfortable passing

Be still

Listen, heart calls thy name
canvas empty
awaiting special touch

Paint thine heart true
filling Canvas’ void

Sing
Paint
Write

Flowing naturally as it was
what was
now is
It is so.

~Ani Po


Ray Charles speaking words of wisdom, singing to our hearts in time of darkened energies — there will be an answer — Let it Be.


This piece is a continuation of my last piece, Fleeting Thoughts, processing energies hold and awareness of such that I sit with, sing-along or allow it to pass through deeper realms.

Our ability to process the world around us either gets passed through the head mind, hearts processor clear, or a deep-rooted passing of energies — leaving a foul but sweet memory of who we are.

Would love to hear what comes to mind when reading this piece. 


Much gratitude for those who take time to read, ponder, and allow the inner workings of self to come forward. Grateful for the feedback, love shared, and, more importantly, the Dance with Inspiration. Deep Peace.

Joseph Lieungh

Photo by Javardh on Unsplash