Horselessjockey - Articulation Experimentation - Tumblr Blog

To see what you are you must do the work of shedding what you are not. You have buried it, don’t you see? You have buried it, but it cannot die.

No title (maybe a pebble in my skull, bouncing around)

I am rattling, as is my proclivity muscles tense and then collapse

limb by limb, releasing a skeletal clatter

would i hover if the gravity, of dizzying,

that makes my head swim, lightly, 

floating in the ocean of stuporous emotion

thunderstruck connectivity, latched onto me

crown o’ my skull, pull my spirit from its vessel

would eye

blink shut

a rut in the road

a node

bowing, wherethrough flowing in the breeze; 

it bends - again - against the everything so rushing

by and i

consider it a blessing to believe in nothing

knowing only what approaches me

and seeing things so clearly

how spirit lives in me

have you ever felt the chills?

ASMR, perhaps, electric, rising

running fingertips over goosebumps

have you felt the way Earth communicates with plants?

can you bleed into the natural expanse?

you’ve been dead before, do you remember?

My Love is Beautiful

My love is the one 
that saturates awestruck passion
 making the heart swell
 with transformative gasps of divinity



My love is the weight of water
 suspended in the air
 It is windswept, soft caressing;
 Spirit’s soothing whisper in mine ear



My love entombs itself in deep mind 
Loses itself to the pool of rhythmic vibration 
interspersing, simulated, soulful synchronization



My love is life finding Life finding soul
 The sweetness of consciousness becoming conscious
 of itself in everything else, of liquid light brimming through, 
to coalesce, and impress softness into



My love is poetry wherein
 we beautiful beings becoming
 had to invent the very word 



To encapsulate the indescribable
 that exists in that feeling 
 of transcending survival



To find the divine in the usual

My Shadows

Oh shifting sun, in silence does the resonance of moonlight still reflect the light of day, the truth that you beget? These hidden things, inside sepulchral night administered by lunar light within our minds and hearts excite yet still prolong regret When we are surely stolen there within the glow of darkness’ heir does truth, aloof, in depth repair or is there hindrance yet? I coast alone through lands of dreams to lay away without esteem and bask through melting, as it seems my self should thus reset Could in the morning light, again, thy transcendence defy chagrin? Should I be not what is akin if therein lies my debt?

Hypnic Jerk

Spiraling a vacuum in my sternum drinking in the void gasping for air in the emptiness

I reminisce of distances 

leapt

in instances kept in memories forever, lingering

How heavy can emptiness be? Who am I who sees not me? Who are they who could not stay and did they ever know my disarray?

I am an erratic notion of emotion in motionless vastness

I am spastic jerking and tumultuous in the openness  of this cosmic loneliness

the endless hindrance of the intimate i n f i n i t e

DMT

Unleashing arrows of light which scorch the sky encroaching on the domain of ancient anchors

Boring through deep, unspeaking shrouds as the orbs of everlasting force should only sing through resonances abounding when tangible things dissolve in their fall from grace alongside the eyes of earth

As if by rods of Zeus, I am struck with white noise meteoric light ruptures the heavens rejecting the frailty of corporeal existence, as the mind’s eye is forced open my ears explode with ringing the song of heaven vibrating my teeth

“Pay attention! Wake up! It’s not too late!” The voice of ages calls through all eternity to excite the soul which rests in the groove of the heart

Spirits sing always they are singing their voices synchronize in chain reactions causing reality to unfurl

Each star, a node the strings of heaven shake in holy harmony spectrum-slipping into ripples inconceivably infinite iterations of existence unveiling vortexes of vectors Tangents, tangling Totality in tantric tandem until ubiquitous uniformity upheaves the insidious illusions of individuality

So melt, dissolve, unwind, and un-become again with the slipping, weaving, winding blinding light of time unbinding from the mind, til we exist in emptiness and find that all along, we’ve intertwined ourselves with what is else, a wealth of living in delivering the realm of dreams and streams of being gleaming in the crux of everything and nothing there is opening  the apertures, the rapt and ruptured slipping rippling dripping starlight fissures

Where beings bleed through overstretched dimensions only held to wells of willowing intentions a blip, a blast of consciousness  morphs into the pupil of the master: World-Weaving-Thing that observes the observer observing eye am not eye am what I am eye am I? sublime sub-liminality entrenched in where, whence present becomes presence without essence; coalescence regresses into evanescence as returned is me to thee to We

Then -Not-

This exists in the wind

Know other, and thus know thyself. Know what thou art not and thyself shall unfurl before thine eyes. Yet, know thine eyes as thyself, and know no self before another. One twine of thy spiral unwinding, whence thy center point diverges, vast, in multitudes amassed betwixt thee; the eye of the spiral of unwinding. Thy sleeping self, merely asleep to life within a dream; awake to All aplenty. Alas, in tangent vortices all aspects of thee exist in mirrored reiteration. Fractalescent bodies of one name. Above the vortices converging round the center: a greater maw. A many weaving being, seeing

everything expanding in concentricity round compounding sound, the endless symphony; ubiquitous infinite vibrations of eternity, in resonant helical geometry. But these are just the roots.. Somewhere, amidst the canopy, ever-thriving disseminating light, crystalline dimensions break the mind splitting time in two. And there are infinities in every inch… every inch of me and you. A billion years of histories; a billion people, a trillion different views. All, interconnected through the dissection of light projected dimensions of intention wrapped, and woven endlessly around a gaping space of emptiness chock-full of energetic collectives. Each an individual unto themselves. I think, maybe, that’s what angels are. Accumulations of many universes; pulsating orbs of holographic light, teeming and erupting with the knowledge of a love that cannot be contained by illusory space.

Sacred Self (Voice Unknown)

The spirit, soul being, whole One seeing mind open to find the divine inside One, seeing mind to merge, emerge bestow and grow  Surrender to the everflow To sleep in deep, cut through me Ocean of patterns, possibilities Without a vessel, spirit consumes me

to sit in this unity Am I thinking, feeling, seeing Does reality flow through me in intimate silence, mind wide duality I am quiet, true unseen but i can’t hide these feelings Are thoughts my own, when all things spring from a source that’s forever branching onward into ignorance, whilst knowledge keeps advancing

So i’m dancing in the action of solitude and truth romancing a fool who takes a chance to be alone but Love is seeing me In endless conversation with vibration, i am free 

but i would shackle myself cuff my hand to yours to be known in this temporary moment without knowing what’s in store To be adored drip with me in poetry, and know the voice unknown amor

A Tempered Temper

The present moment is my happy place And, when I step back and appreciate all my woes and worries are erased

I’ll simulate the energy of peace when anger and impatience ravage me and the world seems chockfull of instability; because, when I remember to breathe, I don’t surrender my power to a feeling

Sometimes I find I’m faced with a choice Life can leave me feeling as if I’m without a voice All things appear so dull and strange My heart, aching for a change

And I can choose to lose it; let my rage consume and guide me My power, when I abuse it, unleashes pain I hide inside me

Seeking to subdue, control, or placate is a futile effort We must waste our energy  to weaken what we wish to subordinate Strength only doubles when we work together

Such is the same with one’s self Fighting inner pain just drains  and serves to lessen health Nothing else remains and one retires again to rest

I’ll step back, and take a breath, and remember what it’s like to be at peace; let my soft awareness spread from in the deep of me, and assess with love, encouragement and patience any problem that keeps me from seeing beauty

Because love lives in the aching heart -in the wandering mind Love, is what we know, what we might find It is why we yearn and ache It is why we persist, in spite, or for the sake of it

So, when I find that irate individual; my mind and the world in turmoil; when I can’t catch a break, I can’t focus, can’t think, I will remember love is the nourishing thing at the crux of being

It is the keystone  to the door to new pathways of consciousness and coalescence of presence and connection of Love itself

Tender ache of beauty reaching in the heart that feels itself when melting To be one with oblivion but knowing I am cascading wonder cast asunder; a cavity left to fill,  inundate me, now Stuporous; wine drunk, on the awe of creation I am breaking, macerating this weary vessel Grinding every last speck into pulp Heart broken: heart open And I love, not blind I simply cannot, for the life of me, pry my crying eyes from the sun Nothing left but warmth I merge to emerge amidst, but amix This yellow light shifts white Like every other star in a sky, bespeckled

Joyful Teardrops into Infinite Seas

I want to live in this state
 where every breath feels like vaporous gold
 my blood is ablaze with the violet flame
 and the gravity of cosmic, elestial ethereality
 suspends each simple speck of being,
 pulsating with transcendent, growing energy

 Aperture adjustment; 
 light parts the mist of the physical 
a bloom, returned
 consumed in energetic being 
seeing through illusion 

I want to transmute 
the frazzled, festering things 
that constitute the dissonant;
 returned to harmony
 with a decisive tap! 
like liquid crystals flipped 
to shine white light

 Melt the astral ice
 entice my mind and soul 
to cascade into the ocean; 
dissipate my shaking being;
 make me feel whole 

I am love. I am love. I am Love. 
I am nothing.

One Who Writes In Scribbles Conveys a Meaning that Cannot Be Translated

i started off learning from the wind. and, like the wind, i slip-streamed by and gazed into windows from afar. all i've ever done is flowed and felt, and to me that's enough to be magic. everything i've learned is from listening quietly and finding where silence isn't. that voice amongst the white noise, that howl in the still darkness of night, is my teacher. beautifully my heart aches, when the emptiness is infinitely more haunting than the ghosts that drift in it as memories lost to time.

I am learning Earth and Water. Trees are experts in mindfulness. They communicate in silence, using psychic vibrations that resonate in communion with the cycles of nature. Offer up to them your presence, and they will reflect upon you their stability and coolness. At our roots we are life itself. I have learned, from the quiet, to love myself as a plant. I need water, light, air and love. Growth is a natural thing. Sustenance is deepest in its simplicity. Human love can be convoluted and strange, forming labyrinths within the psyche. Yet all space, immaterial and material, confounds us with illusions of separation. If I close my eyes, and melt into the quintessence of energy, I become the haze and see beyond seeing; choosing to feel in my heart. This is spiritual water. The mind ripples as thought, distorting the clarity of the endless ocean of energy. This is a stage in the cycle. Being mindful includes acknowledging the noise between silence. If we are to recognize ourselves, we must feel the passing waves of energy; the way they manifest in the formless void as whispers on the canvas of our minds’ eyes. There is no forcing surrender. We must embrace volatility and transience in order to let go.

I am important

to touch one person, who touches one person, who touches one person… to feel in a way only you can to see through the lens of your individuality to impart an aspect of your identity onto reality you are a fragment of eternity,  i see things changing and it aches but we could not think, could not feel, could not experience beauty if time was not forever rolling onward if things did not change to grieve is to love to love is to empty yourself to hold space for another to understand in spite of your ignorance to grasp the truth that we cannot be alone and nothing exists in a vacuum i’m tired of feeling insignificant i am magnificent, passionate enchantment echoes resounding in the vast, indifferent infinite an embodiment of spirit amongst physicalist pessimists I may be small, but I am all, if only I connect with existence

07 : Tremors

Every sound is a pin prick forcing itself under my skin injecting me with living squirming irritant It feels hopeless I can’t focus on anything and this rage is an infection spreading through my veins I want to bury myself sleep in peace far away from the world which shakes my bones and rattles my brain Where does the chaos come from? Where did the gentle warmth go? Why is everything an unbridled explosion of motion without reason? I’m a sensitive being keen to every tick and pitch every vibration and interference but I am not weak for feeling I am a gaping skull and a plume of smoke that swirls in clouds and blocks out the sun and the earth quakes beneath my hovering body rocking me without melody Subtlety is enchanting, the music of magic enraptures me in times of peace, when only the wind breaks silence and the mind is melding with arrays of light But between every wind chime’s song this fool is bashing a pot with a hammer brutishly begging attention bestowed; the tumultuous, trembling ego Be alive with me, you fleeting thing stop clinging to your suffering the haste of your anxiety is cause for your inner churning When every glance is full of hate and the speed of your steps seeks to separate I’d always wish to ease into the earth find solitude and with it, mirth So let me go, to fly upon the wind let the breeze consume me, breathe me in perhaps in our return to this union you’ll find your peace of mind restored again

The Manufacturer of Dreams

Whereof void cometh light Therein the realm of whispers stretching vast By what great somnolence fore-takes the night Unto the mind’s recoupled, last

By speckled sand in burgeoned storm Whose weaving deems thy make In nebulous, unstructured form Til brinks, again, daybreak

Whence shrouded depths bestow thy name O Maker of the Lands Estranged O Dark Unbridled Taskmaster What mirth beguiles thy claim?

For in the harbored bow of day To eat of such abound Remade in Night’s shadow’d parlay As we, remade from ground What, by thy gazing over land Should bring immortal what is man? Where through the reaching unto nought Shall future’s stake, our hearts allot?

Where dreams be dreamt in wake and rest Your hand to ours, there, to caress To guide our minds and move our breaths To breathe for life’s unending test

As is the mount to he who hikes A place to chase the peak Should we, who in nature alike See ours and wish our keep

The Man in the Moon

Here, comes the drum of the unconsumed, through mountains churning under burning moon from the open eye of a sky attuned to the stars in the mind of the magical loon

He sings to the rain; it’s said he’s rot in the brain, but the madman sees what the people flee; sees the thrum of the pulse of the ancient trees through the veins where the life flows of each lived thing

Cast their pain to the wind and he breathes it in and it drips from his tongue, and the earth drinks sin but the stars in his heart sparkle out from within cause the madman transposes chagrin

In the haste of a world that unfurls by the sun neath the moon of the loon is the veil undone as he watches the stars turn an hour a tick by the fire whence transpires, his an endless wick

So, tho judge ye will, he cannot be killed, for he’s traced all space with delightful trill tho an empty man, he has had his fill for the madman belongs to the moon

02 : This is my goodbye

A moment, isolated frozen in a mirror dimension glassed in cataclysmic sunlight a sliver of hope a fading promise a flickering, dying flame no time left  to wish upon a falling star nor watch your visage fade in lightning’s breadth I’d lived without, a year before won’t hold my breath for closure If you’re so blind oh twinkling, little star you cannot see the sun I will not strain my eyes to gaze upon you from afar I have no wish today but to see it done Goodnight, withering love, weeping vine who chokes goodbye, you smoldering ash ember in the gems  which once speckled eternity

now, relegated to waste when I spend my nights dreaming of what’s ahead of me

Been feeling like 
an open window 

like humbled, 
curious, 
hungry eyes 

like the sun 
in tidal roll 
as viewed from a hole 
tucked away in the shade


I’ve been watching beachgoers 
softly smiling
 their shouts and meshing laughter
 running by my brain 
like the backdrop to an endless song 

Birds chirp,
 sometimes even in the night 
(or early morning, fore the light)

the wind blows 
everything grows
 it’s spring 

the world is alive again 
but I sit in silence
 meandering in the mind 
sublime that I’m 
still confined 

but light you’ll find
 behind my eyes
 and I’m just fine
 with breathing 

in time
 with the flowing 
cycles intertwined 

I’ve been hibernating for a year or two
 or eons in a dream 
I’ve melted, boiled, turned to steam
 become a cloud, an ocean, a stream 

I’ve been the rain, and puddles too 
then drank myself and became you 
we’re all amix, awash with We 
all melding in our energy

 and from the midst and middle 
I sit and watch the surge 
and shift 

the way light interplays 
with shadows when 
the water bends 
and bows 

the way we grow 
and decompose
 the permanence and change
 the flows 

I watch the light, with muted sight 
when my eyes come 
to close 

I dance with chance 
in the expanse
 of change and stasis 
life and lows

I still don’t know what to call you, old friend.

God is a face with no name; a whisper in the breeze; the hum of insects in a forest aglow with the first rays of the soft light of dawn. God is the vibration of everything as one. The emotion of a heart awake but breaking, choosing instead to carry on. God is the transcendence of hope, when faith is another day; the present moment fleeting; making the most of the lives we have before they slip so fragilely through our fingers. Yet, in this swelling of divinity, we do not cling… We cherish but let go, because we know that we must grow thereto bestow our pearls of wisdom onto the future living in our dreams. We are aflame with inexhaustible spirit. We are chock-full of life and love and we owe it all to the immensity of being. How full we’ve all felt. How we’ve striven to leave ourselves empty not knowing what it means, to long for life in our wizening. We only want to be whole. God is forgetting, and forgiving ourselves for what we lack, and what we are or what we aren’t. God is the intangible spirit of knowing we are whole in our very melting. That through the coursing, and the melding of ever present energies, we belong to something greater than ourselves. God is ALL. God is One. God is none, for we are he are thee. We’ve split ourselves to many. To let life be lived aplenty. So dream, my dear past, dream. Soon you shall see. Soon you shall 
remember me. Maddening, I know. Yet, with every step, we manifest.


With every step we grow.

Cuddles from that “Misfit Cat”

that real love

the peaceful ecstasy of Truth’s embrace

that rising, liquid fire in the heart

that drinks you in

makes you melt into oblivion

to be seen

in the rippling pulse

of molten ichor coursing

through a beating heart

to be not being

but expanding

in consensus with everything

unwinding in the ocean of emotion

pressed, entwined, enmeshed and intermingling

reintegrating into unity

with conscious reality

where all things flow

from the glow of understanding

wherethrough seeing, being rests

coalesced with head to chest

in sanctity secure, no longer

aching with a yearning gnaw

which tears into the raw wound

of flesh cooking in a vacuum

instead, heart full

a soft and permeating warmth

gold light, tropical paradise’s waters

melting away all the stress

all the tears returning to a sea

somehow free of salt

24

shivering betwixt

vibrating infinity

the body slips through

a micron filter universe

every particle moves

til interlocked in place

and only through such haste

can it elapse the distance between space

a final stop

where nothing ties the mind to moving

like sand suspended, reality falls

before me

Humpty Dumpty

The universe speaks

and so inlaid is my awe

it feels mundane

The universe loves with unrelenting fire

such wisdom is its light

so delicately, intricately interwoven

is the force, the immensity of everything as one

and I

am but an iota

a speck on a speck

in some unknown place

in the vastness and transit

of outer space

whose voice is allocated to the insignificance of the imminence

of what slaps me in the face

and yet I'm being bombarded with divinity's infinities, subduing me

placating my aggravations and intimidations and fears and anxieties

every mirror image shown

returns me to my heart and home

reminds me who I am

that I am chosen to be me

I am shaken

my foundation breaking

tears escaping

from this love that seeks me

but I am born to be rebuilt

and I am thankful

15

Mid November lingers still
 with the aroma of sunlight
 and the ghost of sliced peaches

 We leave the windows cracked 
on 65 degree days, 
 when the sky is blue 
and the wind is blustering

 Keen to hear its voice 
whispering secrets alongside 
 melodies of chimes ringing 
in unison with the falling leaves

 And the trees are dancing
 in an act of praise
 to the cycles of change 
and the end of days
 Knowing. 

Every winter begets spring 
in resurgence, when
 death breathes life into 
the sleeping glen

 and in the valley of death 
on nightfall’s pillow
 the sun mingles with hushing shadows
 brilliance, set low in subtlety
 only gleaned by sharpest eyes

 So I’ll capture 
a flash of time exposed
 keep it in a bottle in the back of my mind
 diverge and recombine
 and light the world up

 and when the moon beams down on its lover
 and the sun admires her from afar
 I’ll know the cosmos glisten, just out of sight
 teeming with unknown color