by Mark A. Rockeymoore
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Recent poems by Mark A. Rockeymoore
Static Renewal, or, the Sun of Transcendent Vision
She Equals I
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What is the difference between dreams and reality?
Awakening dawn light signals ascent into conscious awareness,
civilizations on the cusp of paradigm shift seeking
enlightenment within, heralding world changes without.
Verdant fields of golden light beckon souls of a similar brightness,
while aloft spears of spirit soar, consciousness attentive to transmutation,
brilliantly bursting illusory laws of gravitational boundaries effortlessly,
spinning into silence. The music of the spheres sublimates sense
and sensation alike, revealing the profundity of pain,
the subtle whispers of ignorance, vaporized in the intensifying
light of enlightenment's searing awakening.
Flowing rivers of color dotted by ponds of dark potentiality waver
and thrust bullishly through conglomerations of desire,
birthing new paradigms, thought modes and processes conscious
of their singular nature. Bursting upon the scene aware
that there is nothing new under the sun, swift repetition
of ancient patterns establishes the codex, chiseled in stone and bone,
inscribed in the marrow and genetic code of amoeba
and homo sapien sapien alike, synthesizing aeons
of energetic permutations and every, single incarnative
urging of probability's unique, quantum directive.
A conch shell of Infinite size sounds, the bass bellow of Being
reverbrating within the Absolute, imbuing Creation with consciousness,
the word heard, omnipresence leading to omiscience which then,
through action, heralds omnipotence's virgin birth,
black hole multiversal conception being the inception
of sentience made manifest upon the material plane of existence.
The bass booms, gentle thrumming augmenting
the conch's funky vibrations, the cosmos created to the beat,
the eternal tapping of Divinity's galaxy-spanning feet.
9-ether emanations tingle like feathers upon the soul,
tickling shivers blending pleasure and pain,
sensitivity to the sound of an atom clapping on the other side
of the multiverse a warm knowing birthed in sacral spaces
scored for universal dissemination. Orchestral haunts echo the tuning
of forks and instruments designed to awaken minds, while time continues
to flow down the rabbit hole, indicative of the state of our individual souls.
Evening replaces noon's heat with circadian rhythmic songs,
birds twitter in time, the conch's notes grown long.
The feet of divinity slow an infinite nano-second of soul
blown by astral breezes past the branches of ghostly trees,
their potent seeds free to traverse chronological fallacies
in search of truth, burrowing among the roots,
dirt and skin beneath the nails of sin, scratching
at the seedy underbelly of the subjective perceptive,
a collective invective of sarcastic sneers.
But I just judge the game, I don't play. Before I sleep, I dream,
visions like scenes of a fantasy's ilk, encompassing the organic goodness
of mother's milk from which I've weaned y'all,
smiling and chuckling to myself as portentous night falls,
and slumber calls me to rest, the spiraling precession of knowledge
realized as the sole condition of life's eternal test
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|Reviewed by Aberjhani
|Exceptional poetry of realms interior and exterior, higher and lower, synchronized into an eternal song of the evolving self. Truly beautiful work.
|Reviewed by Karen Cino
|This is a wonderful piece describing dreams. The imagery ane words are outstanding. I really enjoyed this piece.
|Reviewed by Elizabeth Taylor (Reader)
|Mark, this is a brilliant description of dreams and dreaming.
You can do a lot in dreams. I used to have a popular workshop on how to access dreams to build your business, part of my goal-setting workshop. Will be putting it into a book someday.
|Reviewed by Tinka Boukes
|WHat a wonderful offering...you did play with my thoughs in this kaleidoscope of thoughts and feelings!!
A mastermind poet in cahoods with his muse for sure!!
|Reviewed by Georg Mateos
|We are haunted by a word's kaleidoscope of mixing worlds and feelings in a background of astral breezes passing through ghostly trees.
We read of sins and lies, of love and truth gettin inebriated by desires and paradigms.
The Muse was much in love with this poet.
|Reviewed by Andre Bendavi ben-YEHU
To a sublime cosmologic mind ~ a song not "To sleep..." but to enrich its potential of awareness ~ and to give all ontologic thoughts the answers and show the arrows that lead to revelation of dreams.
Salutations and applause to Poet Mark A. Rockeymoore for the releasing/posting of "To sleep..."
In gratitude and admiration,
Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU
|Reviewed by Sage Sweetwater
|An intelligible and expansive word portraiture. To me, this is one of those writes which is part jaguar, part human, metaphorical of dream and reality...I'm driving through barbed-wire and cosmic paradigm shift here as I read this, New-Age poetic hieroglyphs I see it as, so I am coining this term right here and right now, "New Age poetic hieroglyphs"(Sage Sweetwater). This poem, TO SLEEP transverses the broad summit of the literary plateau, which allows us, as your readers, to seek a better understanding for a better future, all things spiritual...this poem invents its own cosmology, Mark...it's so nice to see you posting again...be well...Blessed Be.