Inner Child Enterprises

Friday, December 21, 2012

let us shift on and keep it moving

smdh

well, the World has come to an end

and i be damned

it looks just like the place i just left

much to my mirth

it looks just like Earth

could it be that Heaven is as we see it

and hell is as we decree it

yet i do now know that truth

that i can not flee it

for it always hunts me down

whether in Heaven

or Down here on Earth

what is that little caveat worth

it takes me back

to something that has been dancing in my head

something that Christ guy said

that if you run around looking for heaven

you must be the fool

for in that Christ guy’s school

they taught that heaven

was within me

that i have all the tools

there are times i do see it

times that i can be it

heavenly

but for some reason

we always attempt to flee it

for who wants to be that target

Cittying on that Hill

where all can see

can you see me

feel me

the real me

i be trying . . . see

all my life long

there was this song

that i heard

there were no words

just a feeling

that kept me feeling

there was so much more

was it always right here

within me

within my core ?

in the absence of

my doubt

my worrations

my fears

over the years

i have shed tears

and collected

queer little idiosyncratic concerns and fears

to hold on to

for why ? . . who knows

for as the wind blows

or the News Goes

there goes we too

along with the things

others present to you

and me

but hopefully now

i can see

that within me

there is that Divine Breath

that Divine Blueprint

that Divine Road Map

that is Heaven Sent

that will lead me to that place

where i can face

my true self

and taste the sweetness of Life Eternal

with out the infernal threats

others told me about

to include but not limited to

the following

Parents

Society

Schools

Churches and Mosques

Friends, etc

for i now understand

they too fear

being alone

but if we stop for a minute

and listen to that tone

of connectivity of all things

we realize

when our inner eye is open

that we are 1 grand expression

of the All-ness of all things

does not the Sun kiss

the Sailor

the Sinner

the Taller

the Thinner

the Doe-ful

the Woeful

and you and i too

why it even kisses the Moon

as its light shines through

to en-lighten the paths

of the weary

the dreary Night Traveler

Unravel Sir the doctrine

and let our reason be loosed

there is no longer any excuse

for being the antithesis of life

the rife of inhumanity we all

yes, ALL have practiced

at some time or another

against our Sister, our Brother

is no longer necessary

for we have arrived

in a non contrived place

where all may taste

that sweet fruit of expectation

with an elation

juiced by the God(s)

were not you in that field

when the call was made

Free Lemonade

and Milk and Bread

without price

nice . . .

to the Sinner, the Saint

the Gentile, the Jew

the Infidels, the Pagans too

that may be Me and You . . . too

for we too are Kin

and there is nothing we can do about that

so won’t you come along

willingly

it is an easier path to walk

let us stop talking about

what we wish to be

and be that which we need to be

as we shift

and move on deliberately

through this figment of illusion

into the first step

of the rest of eternity

let us shift on

and keep it moving

and put our best suit on

cloak our selves with the raiment of love

for all things manifest

for all things belong

in dance, in joy, in song

to you to me

to that great i am

within thee

www.iamjust.com

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

what kind of Tea are you brewing ?

paralyzed by the fear of change

we see and we find

a certain solace

in our misery

and listless esteem

our dreams become impotent

yet we do so anyway

that we may evade

being ostracized by our peers

our moments become days

days transmute to months to years

and the abyss of our ineffective character

floods with our disdain

and our tears

we build elaborate Castles

at the edge of our Seas of Logic

praying that the inevitable tides

of this unreasonable reason

will somehow not show it’s truth,

but the Sun still kisses the Moon

doesn’t it ?

the light that it shares

is its love

and it does so

that it may thus give it unto us

the lost children

who are meandering through this wilderness

we love so falsely

while grasping for

and clasping to illusions

we see the Light

but we walk not the Silvery Path

we hear the Music

yet we will not dance

we smell the sweetness

wafting through the air

of our Soul’s potential

and we hunger yet greatly

but we will not sit and dine

for we are not willing to pay the price

of letting go

of our “comfortable” convenient delusions

Oh Child, do you not see

the Petals of the Holy Flower

opens to welcome you

into its sweet embrace

for your Soul is like that of the Lotus

and you are La Famiglia

fear not the Sun

fear not thou greater Self

for your Regality

requires your presence

upon the Throne,

a place where fear may not enter

this Holy Altar of thine

resides in thy center,

that disconnected

circumspective Self

that always knew

the path you walked

was suspect and defective

we at times cast shadows

for no reason

when we should be sharing our light

without the whispering

of vilifying incantations

to the night

which only validates unseen quantities

and secrets which exact their power over us

while vying to be discovered

and uncovered

like that Candle under that Bushel

who can see

can you ?

the views are jaded and kaleidoscopic

and we turn this way

and that

hoping to extricate

and exact

some clarity here

based upon something verifiable

an actual factual expression

beyond this fractal universe

of our own thoughts and construct

yet we are tersely constipated

for we have waited

for our salvation to come from without

when all the answers

to all the questions

resides within

locked in those prisons of illusion

we have termed

the unforgivable Sin

and should we begin again

this same journey

would anything change

if our thoughts do not ?

what kind of Tea are you brewing ?

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

the Blossoming of Leonardo of Pisa and i

the deeper i go

the farther within

the more things look the same

a universe within a universe

within me

calling for my sacredness

a consciousness

i am beginning to trust

too long i have tarried in this illusion

making for realities

that pass on by

and leaves me with tears

fears

and years

for which i can not fully account

but who’s counting

what is unquantifiable

i choose

yes it is choice

to explore beyond the boundaries

where the “busy-ness”

can not be found

in the foundry

for there is no Steely resolve here

all is pliably

at my command

as i see it

and in all things

there is a sweet essence

that envelopes

enfolds

my wonder

and feeds it back to me

and i can now taste life’s sweetness

exponentially

without end

there is an ever playing resonance

that exudes a concordance

enhancing all about me

within me

that dances with my soul

and it is my soul

enfolded

embolded

enveloped in an expression

of it’s self

such is the beauty beyond

the beyond.

the horizon

we once surmised

was never achievable

one can not conquer self

can we ?

One can not Master their Wonder

can we ?

can you count ?

let your ending begin

and become

Fibonacci

http://io9.com/5807256/whats-the-biggest-number-in-the-universe

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Names_of_large_numbers

Monday, December 10, 2012

‘til my death

lost years

countless tears

that continually fall

down the cheeks of my heart

from my inner eye

there is an Ocean full of it’s saltiness

and i try my best to stay afloat

hoping for a passing ship

of compassion

to save me

save you

save us

perhaps we are the strong ones

or perhaps the weak

perhaps the fools

the wise

the meek

for i do not speak often

about this coffin

i have laid my soul in

as i prepare for another death

change

my every breath is tainted

with my anguish

i am deeply pained

to not have you in my life

we men do this sometimes

if i could take away your anguish

i would

but you will not give it to me

will you

you do not yet trust in that love

that was given to you

left to you

by Mother

there are no Rhymes

that can suffice

and make missing you

pretty and nice

and if there were

i would rather have you

i pray each day for you

hoping you make it through

without what i feel

inside

for what i have found

is one can not hide

from their truth

and that is . . .

i love you

‘til my death

Pretty in Pink

on the underside of

that pretty prissy pink ribbon

was dirt

and it hurt

for she had fallen

and skinned her proverbial psychic pretty knees

and the pleas

could not abate her pain

as they waxed

where they should have waned

maybe she thought too much about it

those times past

that seemed to last

forever

perhaps it was her “new” endeavors

that reinforced the lack of cleverness

with which she approached her life

embracing her strife

over and over again

most certainly

she was not her best friend

for most of her anguish

she spoke into being

maybe if she changed her self talk

her language

she could become the Mistress

and Ruler of her domain

and be gone with the pain

yes . . . she was insane

with the incessant inane redundancy

of her profundity

to repeat the lessons

she thought she had learned

long ago

or should have

and her woe returned

and burned holes in her heart

with the smile of every man

who showed her that she can

provide them with

but a night of pleasure

while they explored her treasure

and left her Box

her Chest

empty

save for the flowing emotions

found in the Oceans

that leaked upon the sheets

of her esteem

she did dream

but did that help ?

She too wanted a Prince Charming

and alarmingly so

she saw one in each

and ever Joe, Tom, Richard or Dick

who knew her secret

the trick

to making her

give in

that they could

get it in

again and again

and again

was it her need for a Daddy

she wondered

as she redundantly blundered

every time

there were discordant tones

and all she wanted Melodies

Harmonies

and pretty little Verses

and Rhyme

just sometimes would do

but she kept falling

falling

for the same old lines

and her verse became skewed

and she knew

that her knees would never heal

despite her pleas

for more

for les

if she continued

to play this game

of Hide and Seek

where she hid from her truth

so she wore a pretty Pink Ribbon

in her hair

deluding her self

and the world

for at least

the outside

appeared fair

and she was . . . Pretty in Pink

www.iamjustbill.com

Saturday, December 8, 2012

when thy eye is single

One can not keep their Grace to themselves

it is a gift that was entrusted to you

to share with the world . . .so do so ~ wsp

i seek out the swift river

that i may learn to swim

and stay afloat

at the least

for how can one drown

in their own essence ?

i seek the precipice of wonder

and i leap

that i may force this remembrance

that i still can fly

wings are not needed here

for i speak that which i desire

into being

the 7 realms of conscious are mine

to command

for i have been here before

and i learned the lessons

and that is

we are all the student

and we are all the Teacher

such is the duality of omniessence

we are the lower of the higher

and the higher of the lower

of all vibrations

in the Eye of Horus

there is a glint

that blinds him

and that is you

for are you not

Horus and Set’s maker ?

the Angels have come

to serve your regality

command them as you wish

and they shall serve thee

speak the Holy in whisperings

from your Soul

and all the world shall hear

when thy eye is single

Thursday, December 6, 2012

as i so wish

we write our poetry

we sing our songs

speaking from the whisperings

of our souls

in my empirical consciousness

there is a stirring of the waters

at times i am gleeful

other times troubled

sometimes joyful and loving

they clipped my wings

before i came here

and by verse i escape

back to ‘times” past

and times forward

for i remember

who i am

and i know

that i am not limited

by these words

i emote

there is a semi-mournful

semi-ecstatic resonance

that can only be captured

in glimpses

for we are now dichotomous

is such a gift ?

or curse

yet the perspective is mine

and i choose

to be divine

and in between the lines

one may peer at their own self

where the reflective wonder

of starless skies

awaits your presence

to adorn them

again

dreams can not be contained

in quantifiable thoughts

nor one’s cognitive acuitions

we must let go of our lower vibrations

for the density is much too heavy

to tow in flight

even Eagles can not carry such baggage

and Icarus proved the theorem

that vanity serves it’s own end

regardless of how seemingly noble

perhaps the afterthought

is a good place to be

for those who cower

in the face of their creativity

for when the glass reflects your light

you too will be blinded

and you will see your self

as the light that you are

and have always been

like those stars in yonder heavens

it is not out of your reach to “BE”

in the expressions

that leak from between

my reason, fears and logic

there is an almost inaudible voice

cosigning my truth

that i can re-paint this canvass

which we call life

as i so wish

i am the color

we write our poetry

we sing our songs

speaking from the whisperings

of our souls

http://www.innerchildpress.com/william-s-peters-sr.php

Monday, December 3, 2012

being is easy

a solitary bird in the bush

caws twice

to the heavens

i hear

and my consciousness becomes succinct

i look to see

to discover

what may come

i see a lawn covered

with drying Autumn leaves

energy intact

yet dormant perhaps

going with the wind

seeking their final resting place

that they may transmute

and give back to life

the decay devoid

of previous awakenings

when they were vibrant and green

i hear a poem calling

to what end

i knoweth not

but i shall be obedient

and scribe as it comes

with naught but clarity

to make sense i strive not

for in the struggle

perspective is lost

the little red lines appear

underlining my expressions

here and there

much like life

no cautions given

some times

the only rhymes to be found

are intermittent

a weaving not of my own

for the seeds sown

are from another’s storehouse

i smile at the ludicrous appearance

of me

reflected

even in this detached state

where being is easy

in the moment

being is easy

icuc

u c Republicans and Democrats

i c inequity

u c Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhist, Hindi, etc.

i c God, Source, Creator

u c Black, White, Red and Yellow

i c Humanity

u c Greed, Famine, War, Disease and Poverty

i c the need for more Love and Compassion

u c your trials, tribulations, failures and woe

i c your past and coming triumphs

u c your childhood gone

i c our innocence and purity returning

u c hopelessness, darkness and despair

i c your beauty waiting to be shared

u c your pain

i c your joy subverted

u c the love that has gone astray and away

i c the unlimited love you still have

u c your faith holding you up

i c your God Self manifest holding up the world

u c your loneliness and weakness

i c your strength and grace filled heart

u c who you want to be or become

i c who you already are and have always been

i c u n me and me n u

i c love

in but a little time

you will be graced by a consciousness

that is of your own truth

it shall come to you naked

unadorned with the garb of the world

the glass will be pure, polished

and translucent

if your light so shines

the world of 10,000 things

shall greet you

as the brother

and children

of it’s life

there shall be no veils

and you will not need to employ your logic

reason

nor excuses

for you shall see how it was

that you have lived

since you first incarnation

there shall be near a shimmer

in your reflection

for illusions have no place here

we / you / i shall peer into that abyss

adorned with the collections

of our errancies

our choices

and the angelic voice

of our favor

which shall be fitted with wings

to fly our souls

above those things

that once enslaved your intent

and seek to imprison your essence

in an eternity

once again

as it has done before

there shall be a mixture

of singing and wailing

and the chorus of our souls

will travail for an orchestration

that makes some semblance of sense

and brings universal harmony

to our speakings

as we melodically chant incantations

of joy

never before heard

since our mass migration

from Eden’s Utopic ideologies

shall you find it i ask ?

shall i ?

shall we ?

can you hear the dancing Muse’s footsteps

and soft enchanting song

yes !

the task before us

is one of more than a trust

for we have already violated the agreement

for which we came

One can never effectuate change in the Status Quo

not by acquiescing to the program

or by Cowering before the megalomania that prevails

can we ?

like the Angels who preceded

we thought we needed

to immerse our selves

in this temporal expression

that we may transmute

the darkness to light

and we became finite

so we thought

but the night shall not last forever

for a Light of Lights

approaches

and we can feel the encroaching

as it comes to reclaim it’s own

in but a little time

www.iamjustbill.com

sing loudly

the heavenly chorus

had no robes on

they were singing

naked

i peered

i stared

and i realized

they looked like me

looked like you

naked

save but their vanity

our bodies become our prisons

of passions

of avarice

of death

and we suffer it for

a little while

some have style to their woe

some don’t know

what the hell to do

so we create mental vistas

that we may escape

to heaven

and sing in that choir

sing

sing loudly

and drown out your reason

sing loudly

www.iamjustbill.com

my Newest Book . . .

“The Vine Keeper . . . messages in Poetry and Prose”

is available at

what am i seeing here ?

i stood there

in a certain misgiven moment of stillness

my shadow intact

i surveyed the outline

of who i thought my self to be

yet i saw not

the face of me

i felt the Sun at my back

burning its way

to my center of consciousness

and i realized

that my eyes

could not see

the depth of me

and who i thought my self to be

does the shadow represent me ?

is it my turning away from the light

that spurns me

to venture in these depths of perception ?

errant as they must be

i turn to the Sun

and i am blinded by light

and all i feel

is its warmth

upon my face

radiating through my entire being

what am i seeing here ?

is this the sum

of who i am ?

http://www.innerchildpress.com/william-s-peters-sr.php

my Newest Book . . .

“The Vine Keeper . . . messages in Poetry and Prose”

is available at

Saturday, December 1, 2012

refuted logic

i refute the mixology of your song

that you have taught me to sing

you see . . . U C . . .

you told me that

God breathed me to life

and i was imbued by his Holy Spirit

and on the other hand

you tell me i am Sinful ?

can that which is perfect fail ?

i suspect not

or have we forgotten

what perfect was

cause

we have been taught

to be satisfied

with what we have bought

and got caught up in

the illusion

of sin

can God sin

let me begin again

UC . . .

the God in me

did not ever leave me

save in my thoughts

which got caught

in that farce-filled fence of barbed wire

and Barbie dolls

you almost had me convinced

that God’s Fire

has went out

and only your shouts

and your prayers

could awaken His compassion

and fix my doubt

and my fears

for God only hears you

am i awakened yet

will i resurrect ?

tsk tsk tsk

a tisket a tasket

you can kiss my ass kid

on more time . . . yet

please don’t

cause i won’t recover

when your un-lovable lips

grips me

and slips me

into that falsity

of false titties

filled with Silicon-us esteems

for the dreams you construct

seems to destruct

in a little while

so i never really did get a bite

of that sweet fruit

you advertise

so why the fuck am i smiling ?

let us shirk that shit shirt

you have yoked me with

and that truth

you now choke me with

stroke me with

that every little things

is gonna be alright

just as soon

as you tighten the noose

and let me loose

from my ill fated delusions

would that be the taste of death

the face of death ?

well really !!!!

all i have to do is wait for night

and go back to sleep

while you my man weep

for joy

while the “Good Ole Boyz”

who don’t know what the Hood looks like

take flight to those islands

of sanctuary

where

they play with their Gold Fairies

Stock Options

Buy Outs

Bail Outs

Bonds

Notes and Votes

and each other

forgetting we once

were brothers

hey man .. .

is that your kin folk ?

Hell No Bro

that is a refuted logic as well

so quit “Harping”

www.iamjustbill.com

instant, grayscales and monotones

the grass is no longer green

it is just dirty

melodies of life have fled

and i bleed in woe filled dreams

and i need an instant fix

before i go back to sleep

so i write poetry

for the accolades ?

that fades as well

regardless of what i tell

or disperse

in my verse

a curse ? . . .

or a blessing

confessing never works

never has

for the jerks who listened

had their own proclivities

they were dealing with

doing crosswords puzzles

crossing words up

feeding me a verbiage of garbage

even they did not dare to eat

have we forgotten our thirst

our hunger

and i wonder

did they really know the one

who could fix it all

the calls of my soul was desperate

for the despair

was choking of all air

that which i thought was my life

as the strife accumulated

was ill fated

and i was only sated

in my delusions

as the contusions within

began to callous

the fallacies we endure

even though we are sure

is not the way

will never lead us to that day

we vie for

we die for

we cry for

for

it is a house

whose foundation

is not of concrete

it is a mud brick

and my sickly salty tears

dissolve all basis

of my illusionary stasis

and again i am grounded

unsheltered

from the storms

i need an instant fix

to my grayscale world

when will the music become

more than a monotone ?

where is my box of 64

i need more color than this instant Grey

mixed from this Black and White contexuality