Earth Angel’s Existence

Prose poetry prompt

Earth Angel’s Existence

Everyday people showing us the way

Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash

Coming out of the theater showing Beast of the Southern Wild, with fresh new eyes — witnessing the world’s existence as it is, was, or maybe. The littles going on about the powerful message just witnessed when a stranger approached, “Hey, you got any money to spare?”

Kids not having a coin to cash in at the local five and dime looked to me for help in this awkward moment of happenstance. “Do you have any money to spare, dad?” Good thing the old me was not present; forget me not walking on by.

Just having gone through a life-transforming dismemberment of self-being, rebuilding of the blocks and neurotransmitters, was I being tested before innocent eyes? Uncertain where these sudden thoughts, flooding in like a cleansing river’s flow, I do indeed have a bit to spare.

Eye’s locking, words engaging stories of old and present circumstances, what is the money for I asked. Knowing now, what I didn’t then, I would not have asked the question, but I did in this case. “I am hungry.” When did you last eat? “Yesterday” is all I heard and forfeited twenty bucks, for it was all I had.

Ecstatic at the fortunate encounter, the gentleman gladly blessed us in a thousand differing ways. We passed on, standing curbside, waiting to cross — with a glance back to a vanishing being — was he even there? “Where did he go?” questioned the little ones. Uncertain, maybe the liquor store down the block, nay it’s too far and would have seen him beeline for the booze. It doesn’t matter, is what spilled from my lips. We had the cash and much to offer another in need.

“Was he an angel?” Shocked by this silly question, maybe, change of heart with what took place. To this day, we will never know who this person was. An angelic being, homeless stranger, and matters not for the lesson loud and clear, what was old no longer truth be told. If there is a hand in need, share what we can — in this case, it was all we had.

Man in need of an ear, money to boot, sharing a moment is what we could. Face lit up, brighter than a Christmas tree in July, gratitude and tears flowing from this divine soul. Too few understanding the needs of another, get a job retorted in many, humbled by the presence, interjecting with the three.

Too quick to judge are numerous and proud, turning a blind eye on a fellow human down their luck. My situation is not theirs, theirs unlike mine, same global footing upon this sacred ground. Forgotten way, lost in the crowd, given up for this moment in time. The bound or chosen reality of theirs, not measured by standardized testing, is frowned upon and no longer accepted.

Forgive me for once being, tormenting self-inflicting battlefield of the mind’s transcending thoughts transgression. Accept me for who I am, the same hand reaching out for you.

Photo by Mick Haupt on Unsplash

I am pretty certain J.D. Harms was looking for something different, maybe not, in any case this is what popped in my field of view as soon as I read the prompt. Recalling this day like it was yesterday, I now see the homeless in new light and offer a hand whenever I can.

Some might judge me, I do not care. For a brother/ sister in need, one day that could be me. Uncertain of anything these days but more understanding of other’s going through their own issues, smaller or greater than my own.

Thank you for this prompt, hope it makes the grade.

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

Home is Where you Hang Your Hat

Self-actualized poetic thought

Home is Where You Hang Your Hat

Heartfelt transference

Photo by Beth Jnr on Unsplash

Traveled the world searching for sentient’s ultimate resting place not yet reserved for the beyond and decays of death itself. Reserved for the present-day global embodiment of self and collective beings, natural flow to sounds of whispered winds, naked oaks, and dancing hare-filled joyous melodies.

Foraging the fields’ natural remedies — forests gifts written upon the heart saturation of love-light transmuting thought-based realities rose-colored glasses — judge me not for the happiness found in swamp-filled reality and global pandemics divided courses reaching master levels — graduated classes in sheepskins clothing purchased by woven-wolves sharpened tongues.

Samba’s paralleled fox-trot fluctuating words switched at birth defecting to another country — tracing back to the beginning of varied existence — written and perceptual lost through the translation of our mind-filled understandings — intellectually prescribed cursed land divinized yet north, middle and southern mirroring turtle islands historical movements to herd the peoples not yet aware.

Common elsewhere in the lands — far and near, planetary and extraterrestrial vibratory dissonance, cross-referencing polarity of oneself — to galactic involvement, returning home to where the heart is — not yet opened to full capacity.

Dance with me ye grassy knolls hidden in plain sight, forget-me-nots and star-gazing lily pads watering blossom–under the pretense of asunder and false prophesying to the masses of destructive origins truth-be-told.

Breath of life spatting handfuls of mother’s eupnea’ molding and mending over centuries unfolding cyclical wheels of life — x’s painted on the corpses head, angelic dovetail’s binding forth miraculous and ethereal self-realized, self-appointed gurus — self-actualized and apathetic purposeful playtime’s favorite drumming beats, aberrations theme song embodiment and apotheosis self-proclaiming divination and mockery of the human condition.

Know Thyself Heal Thyself left unknowing eternal Tao’s akashic records stored for safe-keeping — a pulse on non-attachment to all things, reality itself — binding us to free-flowing stepping in and out of the Canvas’ painted wonder and awe.

Inspirited self-traveled in and out of possibility, upper realms lowered with arrival’s favorite steed-inherited by yesterday’s medicinal practitioners — in ancient arts, creative imagery of belief in heartfelt transference — shift from shadowy light escaping truths, leaving us with ye olde English “Home is where you hang your hat.”

~ Ani Po

I began with two differing prompts, but headed in a one eighty direction creating a life in its own self-written reality. Whether fiction or non-fiction, real or made up bat-shit crazy make believe, there is a key that unlocks doorways to unseen — never-before discovered galaxies found at the center of all universes, initiates heartfelt response to what may or may not be the illusion of all everything.

Thank you both, J.D. Harms and Darshak Rana for the original prompts, clearly the combination of the two was not meant to be but new direction created within plain-sight.

Thank you Diana C. and the whole KTHT family for taking the time for inward diving, darkened shadowy light shedding truths — experiential and experimental understandings written upon our own hearts — not without pain and suffering, but greatest our rewards.

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