Zero Point Gravity


Zero Point Gravity

Turning the sands of time

Photo by Şahin Sezer Dinçer on Unsplash

Sitting amidst the darkest realms hidden amongst illusory thoughts ever-present — melted sands of time with a thousand faces — fusing as one evil plot against self — fading memory once lost — giving birth to a new way of being. Lost in a myriad of thoughts — unable to climb out of the rabbit hole’s downward spiraling tornadic pull — call to a friend, but echoes of silence prevail.

Alone in the world gone awry — Hercule’s mandated strength emerging victorious at the center’s storm — a path chosen sans regret. The weight of the collapse calling out to a familiar voice — regret, pain, suffering multitudes of lifetimes in a single grain of time — acknowledging both sides to a flipping coin with tales never failing — armies of peaceful warriors emerging victorious from thoughtless vagary.

We are

Painstakingly moving into the unknown — hidden doorways opening — new channels, a directional pull too great to be ignored. The horrors of what was — not knowing what will be — faithfully stepping into the canvas of all there is — painting a new reality with fantasy and co-creative thought — so shall it be.

Melted molten rock of the ages into a puddled muddling of who we are — tar sand bitumen thick as the molasses on a January morn — resting in our darkened minds, reaching for candle-lit sparks leading us home. Upside down — turtles struggle to get afoot — aid of a brother or self-reassuring knowing that all will be restored — back on the foothills of planting additional seeds to rebirth.

Zero Point

Hourglasses running out — granular speculations of nearing the end — the hand of time aiding in the turning of another hour — maybe more — left to the evacuation of centuries of fabled speech — soapbox shattering beneath our feet. One knee to upright forward moving beginnings — bipedal confidence not shared in historical records but self-realizing knowing — making a clean breast of accidental encounters — suffering a loss of heart’s gaping wounds not yet healed.

Turning the page — chapters of books lacking words feeling into confessions shared by broken winds shaking storms antiquated passing of another day. Rolling hills — discovering a continuous flow — ebb and flow — right to left brain fusion of once broken one-sided truth — becoming untouched by mortal ship-shape, shape-shifting possibility.

Gravity

Energetic beings bound by meat — flesh’ singular inferring directional pull — escaping prisons constructed by minds, boundless acts of suffering — we are becoming. Broken, afraid, an inadequate record of a greater whole, adopting inseparable and contradictory opposites — accepting imperfection perfectly as it was meant to be.

~ Ani Po


Much gratitude to J.D. Harms, Melissa Coffey and the whole Scrittura family for sharing these words. Have not been able to download, with life calling me away. The idea of Zero Point energy is a concept of having the lowest possible energy in quantum mechanical systems. Our thoughts, hindered or enhanced by belief, allow us to sit with these burning thoughts, submitting to all there is around us, allowing a deeper understanding of self and those acting around us. The mechanical system is a reflection of the world around us, inviting us to sit with everything happening, changing our course to redirect self and, with hopes, those around us.

Loop pedal activated, here is the song playing in the background of these words.


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

Brain’s Misguided Step


Brain’s misguided step

Pausing to let the storm pass

Photo by Dovydas Žilinskas on Unsplash

Time passing by — what seems to be an eternity –lifetimes of misery unfolding in a single thought. Uncertainty of the origin of this cosmic wave — left with a self-inflicted twist of collective memory — heartache, crippling pain invitation to sitting still.

Expressive words — I feel the sadness filling my universe — weighing me down — filled with gratitude as the words fill this page, returning to the earth — fertilizing future growth of sprouted wings not yet taken to flight. With every fleeting second, a choice of falling deeper into despair — witnessing wholeness — honoring the muddy waters and angelic voices lifting me alike.

Brother has fallen to cancerous iatrogenic belief
thrombosis and coagulation of tempered suffering
numb by the broken limbs, fallen tree
once standing for two hundred years.

Call to the four-directional brethren
spirits of non-tangible reality
fairy tale like endings created
by defibrillators’ shocking tone
anthropopathy grasping harvested moon.

Is this the end — fleeting thought giving birth to a new beginning — of something greater than self? Do the others dare dive deeply into the cosmic seas of disbelief — discover new planets’ existence in the outer rings of possibility?

Sit and meditate — retorting voices conflicting — contrasting vibrational toning of songs sung by hearts story waiting to be told. Still uncertain — more certain than ever — entering contrasting songs sung by the ancient wisdom keepers of fire struck believers to walking a broken road.

Thinly spread rocky roads — glassed shards cutting open the souls of our feet — deduction to induction — phase of black transforming wood into medicinal — ash trees falling to bored out infestations not treated by self-healing thought.

Breathing in
collective suffering
burdening deliberation
end resulting
rewritten storylines
of self and ancestral;
overdue books and stepping stones
waiting for our footed breath
outward healing inner circles
breathing out planetary growth.

Tall trees sung by the masters of fate — staring me down — inviting an inward journey while being present in the ancient truths deeply rooted in the heavens and earth alike.

Tripped up by the cannonballs aftermath growing intensely in hearts broken dreams — returning to the trestle board to rewrite — we sit and meditate on the birthing of a new fantasy yielded reality.

~ Ani Po


Much gratitude to Sahil Patel and lifeline for the continued prompts, Lucy Dan 蛋小姐 (she/her/她)for teasing my thoughts stemming from fantasy to reality and finally Jeff Langley for digging deeper roots into the cosmic unknown. Loop pedal activated with a song shared by Jeff.


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