Posted in Spiritual Poetry

Zen Masters Aren’t Cloaked, They’re Furred 🐈

she’s a croissant made of moondust
on Carpathian rug’s edge,
torso ascending and sinking
on autopilot, engine
a lax purRrRr.

my pen’s point rests atop
e m p t y parchment page,
ink accumulates
into blackhle, beckons
me to descend into oblivion
just like her.

sleep GIF

Posted in Spiritual Poetry, Surrealist Poetry

Communing with The Cosmos #poem

A poem to kick off 2017…

Posted in Spiritual Poetry, Words of Wisdom

A Knowing (poem)

What are Daily Disarrays
but disengaged rays
from the sun that have
accidentally found themselves
in a San Andreas Fault
within the troughs
of the missing heart?

What’s a Missing Heart but a mass
of blood and veins drumming to
the melodic singing-voice of the soul
as loud as audibly possible
so it can be heard
when you deem Mind
your primary ambassador.
May as well call Heart’s
yearnings adversaries.

What’s an Adversary but a reversed
reflection of you that is in dire need
of a passion compass or North Star
to guide him/her back to Truth?

What’s Truth but an adage that takes
advantage of the Fool that thinks
she/he knows all truths
there are to know.

What’s Knowing but a blowing wind—
There, but unseen. There, but the most
keen on rustling your fallen leaves
to wake you up

to the blooming cherry blossom tree
in the flesh (with no physical roots)
that you always were!

© 2015 – Eva PoeteX

cat animated GIF

Posted in Spiritual Poetry

Starbound ☆ (poem)

I’m bound to be bound
by both bindings and boundaries
by Illusion’s tarred stick-figure hand,
But when I become starbound—
Illusion’s severed, out-clevered.
Time’s spent better when
Infinity is in the mind’s epicenter.

© 2015 – Eva PoeteX

art animated GIF

Posted in Spiritual Poetry

To Cry Is To Be Alive (poem)

dedicated to sensitive souls everywhere.

Beauty of whatever kind,
in its supreme development,
invariably excites the
sensitive soul to tears.
~Edgar Allan Poe

Do we cry out of pain
or out of relief?

For the soul knows
when the dark’s said
and done, the Light
will seep into your cracks
and mend you in
100 karat liquid gold.

Our eyes release tears
in times of great joy, fear.
During times of great
depression, resurrection;


Our eyes are windows
open wide to the spirit
so beauties of life
can glide on in
as they rid
the day’s toxins.

Tears of joy drop
when music
becomes one with us,
when Love becomes
one of us,

when the heart truly
knows Namaste’s* meaning.

*Namaste: the infinite soul with me sees the infinite soul within you.

© 2015 – Eva PoeteX

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