The No Named Poem (or is the name in it)

If only you could see in my mind.
Percieve the world through my eyes.
See the vision I see.
In my minds eye.

Gander if only a wrinkle.
Then you shall dream.
In my dreams.
Truth or dare.
I have much to share.

Onward through the fog.
Mountain far below.
Fearfulness in memory.
Valley coming slow.

Goodness quenched by fire.
Ice captures pain.
My mind clear of thought.
My poem gets a name.

A single flower bloomed.
For it I get love.
By it mirrors are seen.
For its from above.

Land, water, by air or anyway


The worst kind of bondage is when you are so oppressed by yourself -so enslaved by your inner urges – that you are no longer able to think outside of your desire or to choose otherwise. It might be greed, the desire for pleasure, fear, or the “need” to be right (i.e., pride), but whatever controls you is ultimately your taskmaster. Self-deception entices us to deny the consequences of our passions or to excuse them by pretending we are victims. Because of this, we become further enslaved to our own sense of self-importance, and we are ensnared within the prison house of the all-demanding ego.