Tag: prose

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A Post from Pars Kutay on MeWe.com

Pars Kutay 2 hours ago

Synchronicity Is the Result of Unity Consciousness

Synchronicity Guides our every movement and thought… for We are within the Unity Consciousness that prevails in our Universe.

And once within this Frequency of Consciousness… We have access to all thoughts and information that exist within this Wave Band.

This is the Path that is opening to all of us. It is this Path that… if We follow it… will lead us into Emergence with All of our Brothers and Sisters of Hollow Earth… and All Life in the Universe.

Once We are within Unity Consciousness… All falls into place… as We are in Synchronicity with All Life everywhere in the Universe—not just on Earth.

This is how opportunity comes to us… “out of the blue”.

Well… the “blue” is the Universe… and once our path becomes known to “All”… “All” is at our beck and call to arrange the instances and occurrences and resources We need to complete our Mission on Earth.

So We are ONE with All That Is.

And as the incoming Energies flow and integrate within us… our connection with Life will increase… until We BEcome fully connected—resulting in Unity Consciousness.

Once this occurs… MAGIC BECOMES COMMONPLACE, as our life absorbs the Magic of BEing connected again to All Life… everywhere.

And We suddenly find our SELVES in the Arms of the CREATIVE SOURCE — Fully Secure and Fully Protected.

This is where the intense Energies… BE-ing directed to us Right NOW from the Great Central Sun of our Galaxy.

Within Sacred LOVE of ONE and in Service
Pars Kutay

~ 💜 ~

Art: Sea of Tranquility by Limitless Mind Games
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Cosmic Play Day; Blue 13 Monkey

Transcend the illusion of a virus more powerful than your mind and intention. It’s not.

Transcend the silliness of a mask.

Transcend the fearsome darkness of death

Transcend the spiritual blindness of the media. Ignore them.

Kill your T.V.

Get your heart pumping and move your blood

Laugh with friends

Walk away from toxic people

Have great, loving, sex

Ignore propaganda from all institutions who want your money

Eat some veggies and grains

Set boundaries with your family

Draw, paint, write, dance or make music

Check out a new deli, cafe, or bakery

Decide to be your own best friend and be kind to yourself in choosing what emotions to run. No matter who your feelings are about, they won’t feel them but you will.

S’up?

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Prose; Liquid Saturday

I roll around in my warm bed by myself like a dulcet silken bag of potential poetry spoken into an imaginary lovers ear. Or I could sing to him. I haven’t had that opportunity yet.

woman-in-water

I’m happy…really. It’s abundant, nurturing, warm, and close to the earth.

I find the peacefulness of being by myself in a relationship with myself to be magical. I can surf the waves of words that sit below my navel and bring them up into my stomach to digest with my breakfast, then into my heart where my son, cute animals and gentle firemen reside and express it through the voice in my fingers.

Put me on a secure raft in some warm tropical waters and that’s where I am.

Sure, I have to cook, chew my food, do the dishes and take out the trash, but that is atmospheric seasoning to where my percipience is really focused.

My perception is in my body which is still feeling the dream I had last night like a crab secure in its loose-fitting, restful shell.

Only the inspiration of a local tree could suggest I stand up and walk out the door made from it’s relation. The trees get used and splintered for our delight with the fantasy of solid things. My world is really liquid, empty space full of potential.

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Prose; Spiralling Paradox

Image

The gravity of each individual Mind pulls us and keeps us in the body, giving off a specific gift, look, flavor, color, and feel.

Individual cells dance with electromagnetic charge set in motion by our feelings and thoughts.

Complete…we can co-create just as we are right now.

Yet gravity still makes us spiral as One toward The Center, all touching and affecting each other.

It’s a paradox.

We are individuals yet we are One.

 

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Prose; I Make My Bed

 

Woman-making-bed

I make my bed as though someone other than me might want to lay on it to relax…

Doubtful.

Fans, fanatics, stalkers, jealous husbands, jealous siblings, errant preachers, starry-eyed parents, and students all seeking some higher bedding more like a cloud…nothing low to ground where I am.

Doubtful.
It’s so…fake.

“THIS is who you are”. “THIS is who you are”…”This is who you are” rings the cacophony.

I am not going to spend my last breath, defying all of you because you are surface dwellers; American Idol, Desperate Housewives watchers. Fantasy. I hate TV.

I’m glad my son can cry and be tired. It means he’s human. That’s all there is.

I’m glad I can kick my ex out of the house for insulting my talent. It means I’m human.
All I have is myself and time…

Let me divorce all that is not calm and in balance.
Ring out the true madness that jumps up…to lightness.
Jumps up…to levity
Jumps up…to where gravity is turned upside down.
My feet are my head. Who cares? Must we always walk?

I want to live in a dimension where upon meeting someone I like, I kiss them with ridiculous abandon.

©Lisa Townsend-2011


	


	





		

		
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Prose; Elemental Woman
	


	
	

		
 


sisters__fire_and_ice_by_woltadesign_d742rs0-preFire and Ice


Woman… fire in chains walking through mans’ ice storm.


There is barely anywhere for us to rest on pliable earth, caressed by dew-kissed grass and flowers and visited by genial insects and creatures.


Man is a covetous, territorial beast, contemplating a meal, food for his belly, something to drink, and metal coins, hardware and paper and food from the earth; animals and fruit. They come from her blistering fires too from which he creates.


He craves the warmth of her fire that never dulls and memory of the Sun before the ice came to steal human souls.


Suspicious of her, he does not understand nor can he control her unless…he loves. Her fire can melt or burn and he only steals some warmth for a short time.


A man who loves is a magnificent animal, one that knows no limits and has unbounded strength. He has the strength of the earth, turned from ice and the sun combined because he is the seed willing to lose its cover in order to allow Life.


He willingly takes her to him, feasts, shares, adores and provides a safe place for her fertile ground to grow the eternal seeds she holds from before the time of The Dragon. She holds them still.


But he cannot stay next to her for long or he will melt.


He tries and survival beckons his traverse, summoned by a great dirge of possible conquest and the illusions of mind and heart that he believes are real because his core does not yet burn with equable insight.


Frozen, halcyon outsight of a gelid wasteland is still his birthright.


The feracious earth was given to her as a prolific garden and she waits yet for his icy heart to warm the arable soil for her so she can grow the fruit of breakable man in virile beauty, not in frozen, acrid death and blood.


He is…breakable because he is mortal! The seed must be broken in the soil to become eternal!


She is still in unyielding chains, unloved, unprotected, terribly alone in her vital fire that cannot be momentarily extinguished.


The Sun gave birth to the earth, to ice, to Time and its incessant movement will not cease.


The erudite Magician has given him the wand with which to channel her calescent magic because her heat increases.


Time must move forward but the dextrous tools of man can only thrive if they are forged with the luminosity of her body, to tend the garden of the Earth.


It may lie fallow and untended unless the fire that man discovered can be born in him by tending to her heat. Then he will remain.


Until then he will die, just as he was born.


Lisa Townsend-written on February 17, 2018


 


 

	


	





		

		
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Prose; If We’re Not Thinking in Dreams…
	


	
	

		
earth magnetic portals - hidden


They know by studying the brain that we are not “thinking” while we sleep.


If I’m not thinking, then where are the people, places, voices, words, events, and feelings coming from? It’s not exactly like watching a movie; it’s more like an opaque, frenetic cloud that’s really alive.


I’m free in my dreams to sit back or join in, to interact or be quiet without judgment. Waking life is a dream for me. All day, while I’m “awake”, I’m trying to go back to my dream state to remember how I felt, who I saw, and what happened. It feels like there is a whole other life full of etheric information for me there. Waking life feels like just a resonance is a type of magnetic can; the kind you string together.


Where did I go? I know it was a good place because it affects my day, depending on where I went that night.


I’m not saying I don’t like it here, or earth, but the other side does beckon somehow. I’m a bit glad of that for when my body is worn to a frazzle at one-hundred years old, my work is done, and I’ve had the best damn orgasm I can possibly have with someone I love, it will be easy to drift off and say, “My work here is done.  I’m out.”  My senses and my body still want to drink in all that earth has to offer though, right now.


Earth is fabulous, no matter how hard it can get here.




 

	


	





		

		
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Prose; How the Light Changes
	


	
	

		
Written 9/5/17


leaves fallingOnce the sun comes up, the sun in my eyes charges my brain like a battery.


The position of the shadows on the wall meanders aimlessly to new places like a squirrel trying to find a home for his peanut.


The refraction off of the green leaves will meet its demise when the colors change and drop like so many ancestors on our family tree. Into the ground, they go.


We’re all soiled phantoms, you know.


One day full of light and life, and soon, the Earth reclaims us.


Do you know there hasn’t been one, single human body to escape this transformation?


What happens to our light and life, like that green leaf?


The light changes.


 

	


	





		

		
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Prose; I Want the Music a Little Louder
	


	
	

		
kissing


I want the music a little louder,


for our kiss to last longer,


to breathe a little deeper and drink more coffee.


I want more swing to the jazz and a louder backbeat and


to dance a bit longer and sing with our friends,


Let’s finish that bottle of wine and stay together


because tomorrow is not promised


and I have to look at your face as much as possible.


 

	


	



	
		

	

	





		


		
	



		
		

		
		
			
	
	
						














		
				
			
	
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