Broken and Flawed


Broken and Flawed

Imperfectly perfect are we

Photo by Marek Piwnicki on Unsplash

Beautiful is the Canvas — as it was in the beginning — till daylight no longer flickers. Depending the foot — starting our day — changed perception and reality within.

Our first thought carrying a tune — following steps — dissonance or perfect harmony of the original score.

The morning of our lives — filled with great experiences — coming to a halt is Great Mystery — what afternoons may hold.

Mistakes, trauma — not-so-good events all before noon. Our days broken — just praying to get through. Broken is the Canvas — sorting through the rubble. Acceptance, forgiveness — battling through.

Broken is the Canvas as most flawed — lay before. Our inner Canvas —  scattered across an inner room of consciousness. We choose. We step. Hesitantly — moving forward by a flicker of hope.

Forgiveness of afflictions — transgressors — even worse than last. Let us not forget self — imperfectly perfect as we are.

Acceptance for Broken Canvas — scattered across the floor. Space cracks between the pieces — acorns nut divinely lifting — spreading its aviary wings. Filled — abundantly so — bound by Spirit as we soar.

Broken is the Canvas — simplest of form. Beautiful is the Canvas — panning out perspectives — grandeur is the Way.


Hanging with the Mighty Oak Tree
planting seeds within our minds
vacant space from tiny fruits — flourishing thought. 

Chaotic world
inviting us back
splitting seeds
at the foothold of mother’s tree.

Little acorn implanted
vacant space splitting atoms
written upon one’s heart
love of the mighty oak tree.

Changing winds
transforming seasons standing firm
heart to skies fervent reckoning
heart space growing wider

Stronger

Abundant are we.

~ Ani Po


Thank you Zay Pareltheon, Marilyn J Wolf, Viraji Ogodapola, Samantha Lazar, Wry Welwood, Paroma Sen, and the Scrittura family for sharing this dance.

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

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