Violent Expression.

[ClouD]

This is in "Artist's Corner" because it will most likely only be appreciated for it's poetic side, even though it is basically just a venting for me. I'm writing the first entry right now.

[ClouD]

We watch them shriek by; blank faces, but layers of thick paint - expression, casting shadow to the next. We see sometimes the paint cracks, and their reality butterflies backwards into the canvas, till the constant artist streaks a new coat. During this chaos, a persona is built. The material in this creation is the shadow of what was. What will be, is to be deemed by the painter. Though, where do we draw line between artist and canvas? The answer is an inch division. The inch is almost intangible, like the lapse of reality to dream...between asleep and awake. In falling to that darkness of our neutral gear, we are. Without light to hold gaze, we are not subject to canvas and free to see the fabric of our painter.

[ClouD]

I feel naked in these clothes. Walking a path; waiting for one to tell me wrong, why it feels as if everything is misplaced. Air fails to reach me. I hear slow breathing as I drown out sound in irrelevance. The walk without purpose, exaggerating the nature of everything. Why am I here? Why am I? Am I?

[ClouD]

The tongue furthers their disgust. Unspoken words, manifesting in expression, while sound is discriminated. Does ego cloud judgement...or choice to play shunned as a gambler spins in wheel. Knowledge must be cup of ego. Stem of the flower, fed by water of words. The essence of canvas; communication.

[ClouD]

Beauty is not hard to find in things; simplicity serves is clearly. Division is thin between each. With beauty comes non-beauty, and with non-beauty comes ugliness. Division is; and conflict will become. We seperate good from bad, man from woman, race from race, sexuality from sexuality...and we do not stop. There is no saint without sinner. Without knowledge there is no ego. From ego there is division. Knowledge is communication; communication creates society. Therefore, non-duality (non-division) is dangerous for society. Hence...society encourages division, and becomes it. All starts from the painter. To return to the painter we must either reverse or erase duality within ourselves. Communication forms all knowledge; therefore to progress beyond canvas we must transcend though irrelevance, or transcend through direct and conscious reversal.

[seeker28]

We watch them shriek by; blank faces, but layers of thick paint - expression, casting shadow to the next. We see sometimes the paint cracks, and their reality butterflies backwards into the canvas, till the constant artist streaks a new coat. During this chaos, a persona is built. The material in this creation is the shadow of what was. What will be, is to be deemed by the painter. Though, where do we draw line between artist and canvas? The answer is an inch division. The inch is almost intangible, like the lapse of reality to dream...between asleep and awake. In falling to that darkness of our neutral gear, we are. Without light to hold gaze, we are not subject to canvas and free to see the fabric of our painter. Awesome. Clear, engaging descriptions. Great concepts.

[ClouD]

Thankyou for reading it

[ClouD]

The effect wears off, as this paint cracks again. Looking beyond each layer I see a pattern, a pull between sanity and reality. A pain wrenches me and my focus slips; I do not want. This may yet again be another end, but my whirling mind speaks lies. I truly feel it. Each key carrying such expression as it draws my life away. Looking around I see division - duality. May I release myself from knowing, or sit for eternity in a hell cast of shadow; cast of knowledge and confusion. I know. It is here. It calls; dare I heed...

[ClouD]

Words don't sound right... Blame has turned back on itself... I want to stop. Like never before, I wish to cease. I hang on to this layer of paint, not wanting the old to become new. Words fail me.

[ClouD]

Heaven passes; God brushes my tongue and eyes, light as a feather. The rejuvenation of nothingness. This time, I am. This time we are. Somewhere between unsure, I still lie; now I am partial, so whole from time I will become. Love for. Hear me.

[ChrissyMaria]

How do you come up with this stuff Cloud? your wiser then me and im like 7 years older LOL, nice stuff though

[NonDualistic]

To stand on both shores, reeling, staggering, off balance One foot stands firm while the other slips, then the other takes its turn Caught between images in the paint and the painters brush Reaching for one then the other, never seeming to gain balance See-sawing back and forth in this perpetual dance But what is reaching? Me it would seem, I am, but what am I? Not one or the other, but both it would seem, yet also neither Movement is the key, both paint and brush are telling me Im not listening Deaf, I have become, in reaching and grasping A choice must be made, an action to be taken One of non-action, so simple yet so subtle Beginning and ending, birth and death are only perceptions of the mind Shift the point to beyond the mind, that which contains the mind That which is beyond beginning and ending, beyond time I can do it if and whence I would let go of this folly What am I afraid of ? Why do I hesitate? Incessant grasping, reaching Thoughts of me and mine Let them die their own death and I will be free Oh, so very close, so near, nearer than near

[ClouD]

Your chapter mirrors me. Standing on each shore, we see; both reaching unnessecarily, parts of us knowing what we seek. A subtlety about it all. We are only, yet divide between reality. A single flicker wanting to go out; our fear of darkness holds.

[ClouD]

A fear comes over me; I see support, and cry from no crossing. I cannot reach for, I must not. To reach would be to revert, and I do not think I would survive this ego again. Perhaps that is destiny; I will not go willingly into another darkness. Perhaps this fear of a barrier not yet here is in itself - barrier.

[NonDualistic]

i have seen, i have tasted, the knowing arisen to this mind Yet, here i sit, with firm grasp on this folly To release, but yet not abstain Abstaintion and indulgence, both more folly, both bars in the cage Fool, i flee from union with mySelf, union which is my very freedom Fool that i am, the seeing is unbroken, cannont be broken, this is known Only this mind suffers the breaks, the divisions I am more than this mind, I contain it, it does not contain Me Like blinders on a horse, I wear it In wearing it, through My inherent power, it itself arises, alive and distinct It is like a shadow I cast into existance, itself unaware of that which casts it i am that shadow, and I am that which casts it Duality, light and darkness, yet both pepetually connected Between them the essence of individuality, free of any ego self This shadow cannot dwell in the light But, what if the shadow became light itself? What if the vessel became that which it contains? Yet still a vessel, still containing...

[ClouD]

Nothingness without end; the irrelevance of myself.

[ClouD]

Like calm after the storm, the circumstance of my dream refreshes me; to a new life becoming when I wake. Memories of before give witness to a past anguish. I am empty as my mind holds the thought. My hands, they are dry. The mortality of this skin; of my body. I see morbidly, the mortality of all. Death to new life. I consume, and death occurs. I die; I will be consumed. The flesh will live through all. The birds, the trees - all. From seed to seed, I die - I grow. From where I grow, I will return. A witness of everything - beyond time, beyond the motion of all; sound.

[ClouD]

They tear, raging upon an endlessness, wanting to be consumed by their father. They do not exist in heaven, as one with all. Held by knowledge of words and books of truth, they are supressed and chasing. A chance to die to God - be born unto it. A want of self-sacrifice for that which is.

[ClouD]

I close my eyes, searching for that familiar attraction. Feeling a pull, focus draws between brows. I feel my breathing; in and out, life and death - prana flows through me. A shower refreshes, life becoming and I am reborn. Bliss erupts from nothing - time irrelevant. I lose myself throughout, and fall again into darkness. No division between life and nothing, I am unreachable for this briefness. Awaking, the world spins on; my expression vented, I close the book.

[ClouD]

[I see] the subtletly. Mind does not exist now...It can only exist in the past or future. To want - long for - liberation is the only barrier... All these words, this guidance leads to to one place - present. No longer do all paths merge; there is only one. Once we truly reach now we do not exist in this universe - mind. We become nothing; everything. Silence is only, there is no other. Before techniques there has been explanation. Buddha, gave explanation before teaching. To preach before praying. There is only one who has not done same - Shiva. To his love; nothing but techniques, no explanation. For mind is tricky, it is the center of the universe, and the closer to the center, the more difficult to know - to transcend. Man goes on looking, exploring, searching. To space, the stars, the moon. It is not so hard to reach the moon. Technology is needed, the right construction, and time. It is just a matter of waiting. To come to mind is arduous. It is the center of "knowledge". The center, of the universe.

[NonDualistic]

Lost as in a graying mist Darkness falls as mind rises I veil my own sight Reaching for tomorrow and yesterday, blind to the moment Evoking the effort of grasping, losing sight of what is already here now Thoughts of searching paving the road to blindness and confusion Slipping from one dream to the next, reality finds new meaning Who am I? What am I? I? In the moment I feel them all Like waves on the surface, rippling over the depths of the ocean of Being Not seeking, not finding, all is here now, arising Nothing, but yet everything I, ( laughs) such a notion...... minds child.. Self sees no "I", "Seeing" is the Self Such is the nature of the emptiness Compassion fills it Love flows within it Teaching rises from it Light of lights Darkness burns, shadows die Such is the heart of Vishnu my rest, my peace, my refuge my beginning, my ending Be still, Be one Fold inward to move outward Let go to grasp Give to gain Serve to be served Die to live Surrender to be free

[ClouD]

She rushes; I watch. Grasping at her work - her life. She holds tightly, uncomfortably. My glance inspires doubt and she looks back. She cannot reach me, I am sleeping through these eyes. Standing up, the doors open; she moves onward never looking back to see us as we are. I feel my gut, moving on to another. Some are moving. The others, they sit contemplating circumstance. My imagination picks out one and I glance. Lost in time she misses everything; the writing, without writer. Process without painter - just motion. Destiny. Another - he studies his book. Knowledge compelling him, completely absorbed. I catch his blink; he halts and analyzes. His eyes dismissing me, I withdraw my own.

[ClouD]

You are clinging to your clouds, you won't let them to move. You think that clouds are your property. You think that the more you have, the better: you are richer. The whole sky, is hidden - it has disappeared amongst the clouds and clouds have become your life.

[ClouD]

Every day since I've been, I've kissed you awake...the moments I steal. you won't be here forever, but we have time. Don't expect from me, for I hold equal measure of ignorance in wisdom. I see something else, but you do not; I cry despair, held in from fear. Losing you would be too soon. Is it enough? To write you song and sing these words. You want to live a simple life, my love; will not die for you and yours...I fear you move. Comfort me, but please don't support. Together we'll be - even apart, and I'll hold you close without worth.

[ClouD]

My smile is broad, my mind calm. i am not afraid to be alone. Truth is; without another is reality. Watching as the smile fades, I am just. I cannot be touched. It is as if I am reborn - refreshed. Every sound is clear, every experience pure enjoyment. For these moments there is bondage. Soon too, that will become irrelevant; though words deceive themselves still.