Battlefield Within Our Minds


Battlefields Within Our Minds

Reminding one of an ever-expanding thought process

Photo by Jesse Bowser on Unsplash

Never giving thought to whether I would be saved, just living by what feels acceptable or beneficial to self and all. Maybe it was stubbornness to outside worldly influence, clashing with inner knowing of how the world might appear in my world.

Living to the fullest, zig-zagging in and out of traffic, careless at first glance but assuredly methodical in pursuance of an end goal of something not fully understood, taking every breath to its last, every step to world’s end, expanding boundaries every day.

Voices screaming “you are not invincible” from the outer voxes playing by everyday rules, ignoring them with replies of “go back inside your little cave! Tending to personal adventures, extreme to ‘the others,’ redirecting, recreating realities as visional within inner realities, going to meet outer boundaries, nudging them forward once more, doing what ‘they’ said can’t be done. *Why do I suddenly hear Jerry Reid singing in the background?

Maybe I did not, but already knew, savings for another day? Each moment was facing a near-death fade to black, either ending or a new beginning of the same. “Holy smokes,” retorting reply, unscathed by yet another attack of the unknown strikings of lioness roar.

Thrown from this world, thwarted into the next, unofficial observance of thought reality, causation by own two, twisted by fate and altered by you. Geometrical and alchemical processing of consciousness, unseen becoming physical proof — there is something more to what has been told.

Trapped in the abyss, surrounded by darkened souls lingering all-around, the breath of life flowing through its entirety — shining for another day of soul binding mystical understanding not linguistically tangible by common perception, carrying on like a torch-bearer hoisting the Olympic flame.

Challenged by subtleties and catastrophic events inflicted by the masses, still foreign is the thought of being saved. What is the magical formula — the Giver of life? Can it be recorded, documented, and copy-written? Uncertain to the many questions posed by ‘the others,’ carry on with day-to-day pushing terminus into a transmuting vibrational frequency into a continuation of souls offering new hope of possibility.

Doubting Thomas appears at home’s front door, ringing to an unanswered sound of faithlessness, knocking and begging to enter daily practice. Unwelcome opening of the sacred entrance to the inner sanctum, “take a seat Thomas, let us have tea.”

Head to head or side by side, paralleled battlefields within our minds, gratitude for this visit once again — reminding one of an ever-expanding thought process. “Thank you for coming Thomas, so glad we had time to chat. Our time is done. It is time for you to go.”

~ Ani Po


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I tried to address this prompt in normal writing fashion, but I swear my life is one giant prose poetic mix of realities spilling onto the page. Maybe it is my lack of punctuation, grammatical appearance in its proper form? or maybe it is a desire to captivate the reader into a spinning world of thoughtless boundaries, expressed in thought-provoking words of chain-less beginning and ends?

I go with the flow in an ever-spinning boundlessness swaying in figure-eight patterns that natural flow invites us all to take hold, choose to enter, life-altering strands of hope, faith, and unlimited love pouring over all wounds of past, present, and future encounters.


Photo by Jan Canty on Unsplash

I have never been one to live by the boundaries set by the governance of our daily lives. I often write “the others” into my pieces, symbolizing the majority of people falling into the day-to-day traps of self-inflicting reality. Further referring to them as “They” without judgment of who or what they stand for, it just does not compute in my trade of thought.

Being thrown from a car, a motorcycle, and a bicycle, hanging from a cliff or a two-story building, ‘the others’ plead with me to slow down. Maybe I can slow down, or maybe I cannot? Maybe it was not time for me to slow down, offering an extreme example of pushing boundaries for others ‘to see.’

‘To see’ is to bear witness to a higher belief in what we can or cannot do, blowing the equations to life’s problems out of the waters and throwing the formulas out with the trash.

Rewritten is the formula to life, infusing spirit’s sacred touch upon our souls.

My most difficult situations in life are those who see linearly, believing it to be true. Never giving thought to other possibilities, I struggle to keep these feelings at bay. Collective mixed into own thought, inviting Thomas to join us for tea. Extended stay or short visit is dependent upon the flavor that is served. As for the time of our visit, they are short-lived offerings to see into the minds of another, digging deeper into the cosmic dance of ‘all there is.’

‘All there is,’ referring to a greater perspective on life — seeing beyond the beliefs of the narrowed ways, in the eyes of spirit we are becoming.

We all have our doubting Thomas who appears at our doors, whether we believe in the message carried inward — remains undefined by self-realizing thought.


To answer the prompt, I cannot — for I am too busy ‘being’ what I was called to be. Wait, I think I just answered the question. Then again, maybe I am just delusional?!

Thank you Dan Catalin for the prompt and Diana C. for housing our 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

Coming to a Place of Not Knowing


Guest Prompt: week 2, day 1

Coming to a Place of Not Knowing

No Mind, No Thoughts

Photo by Uriel Soberanes on Unsplash

These are my thoughts
Written upon a page
Transcribed, transfixed
Transmuted, transfigured alike
What was once no longer the same
What will be will be
Receive abundance and all its mystery
These are my thoughts
Written upon a page
Accepted by self
Allowing its flow
What was What is
It is present moment of the day
These are my thoughts
Written upon a page
Looking out, Looking In
Mirrored reality
Affixed to Great Mystery
These are my thoughts
Written upon a page
Helping me, Helping Thee.


But are they? Thoughts remaining fixed in black and white — if not for today, how long must this be? Just because they reached my thoughts, fingertips turning ideas into print, does that make them real? Can one not change thoughts a thousand times within a day?


At this moment in time, giving witness to personal thoughts as real as they have come this way, forefront thought processes, jumping out of shadows and doubt. Stumped again with each new day rising from the depths of my soul, collective sadness imparted upon my head, giving way to flooded gates opening and shedding layers of anguishing purpose-giving hatred or fearful thoughts.

Present-day reminded of no thought transpiring, mushin no shin, empty hands awaiting intent, embracing all possibilities, reminded yin or yan of thought transference Great Mystery remains. Yet under no circumstances giving in to thoughts, better choice of mastering them, passing through the frontal lobe next selection, spoken from our lips.

Or is it all made up anyway?

Emptied cup, mind following suit, made up historical facts believed once true, falsified reality forgiving self-inflicted vicious attacks, time to empty hands. Fully present are we, Stepping into the Canvas of Great Mysteries welcoming thoughtless, flowing love for all there is.

Back and forth between the battlefield going on upstairs, snapping fingers commanding all hands on deck, visceral passing of all memories, no mind opening the door for limitless possibilities. Calm as can be, tired lonesomeness passing away as if decaying corpuscles and rotting flesh were ever a thing.

As real as it may be, as falsified — it is also. Given name, labeled at birth, letting go of this my certificate stating everything as it should be. Onto the trails blazers go, cutting another track fresh forgotten letting go.

~ Ani Po


Coming to a place of no thoughts as they were never mine to begin with. Mushin no shin, without mind thoughtlessness giving way, choosing which dream imaginable, jumping on the bandwagon of self-mastery giving birth.

Thank you Diana C. and Sujona Chatterjee for this prompt


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