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LOVE ASPECT

Posted on February 23, 2012 by Ji Rising
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The Love Aspect of creativity is all I need and want.

If I continue to seek it, it will find me, and if I stick to it I will become a part of it.

The path of Self Love is essential for manifestation of one’s desired inner reality and dreams.

by Ji Rising/ Blogasana.com

Posted in Essays | Tagged creativity, love, self-love | Leave a reply

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Poetry

  • POEM: LIFE

    The machinizations of this world mean nothing to me. The color of the clouds and land as they always were…. always vibrant in their validity, and never obvious when I die. I have been here before, fought here before, won … Continue reading →

  • POEM: CLOSER. LOVE LETTER TO SOUL

    I write to you inside a billboard of advertised life. I am not real and I am not moving. I am not trying to sell you anything. Sweetness I am here as the day breaks me cold I toil and … Continue reading →

  • POEM: D MINOR

    because the river flows backward it is not something i would know i have gone with it (just like everyone else) it was only because of the cooing from the deep sea the thrust of humility and orchestration of chaos … Continue reading →

  • POEM: WITHOUT TOUCH

    I know you cannot feel me because I am not to be felt neither are you to be touched, held nor tasted. We live in different worlds although we see them as same in our dreams we believe that the … Continue reading →

  • POEM: SUNRISE

    Sunrise, the birth of my new Christ. Whatever could have gotten it wrong is now right. For this is my life. Morning, salutations to the Darkened ones you witness me in my mystic; and you do not judge. You are … Continue reading →

  • POEM: THE SUPPER THAT IS MINE

    “For only Humans Can Heal.” THE SUPPER THAT IS MINE The world starting spinning in circles the day you left. Even the supper you didn’t eat repented their life spread out in equidistant as though imitating rays of the sun— … Continue reading →

  • POEM: I AM HOME

    Bangladesh, you are across the street. For only 25 cents per hour, I am transported here. In the White Swan Laundromat in Brooklyn: the Spanish children play, The Pakistani men bully me subconsciously, by throwing their armless sleeves over my … Continue reading →

  • POEM: SOME THINGS DON’T CHANGE

    Columbus Park in Chinatown New york city has never been warmer than dust Chinese children run and frown as old men blink like turtles Ten years ago I crossed this path where toddlers with coconut haircuts flop And it doesn’t … Continue reading →

  • POEM: FORMIDABLE DIGRESSION

    FORMIDABLE DIGRESSION To dream of the sequence. Scrounged to the floor in which our categorical selves lay like naked bones — become extinct to our beginning tho’ never buried completely. To implore beneath soil or completely hidden from place – … Continue reading →

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