Filed under Reflections
Once upon a Time in Turkey. Autobiographical Fiction. Inner Child Press International (November 15, 2022)
Letter-Poems from a Beloved. Prose poetry in English. Inner Child Press International (May 5, 2020)
Canlarım, My Lifeblood. Poetry in Turkish and English. Inner Child Press International, Private Edition (December 2019)
this and that, a Hodgepodge of hülya’s . . . Poetry. Inner Child Press International (January 2, 2019)
Aflame. Memoirs in Verse. Inner Child Press International (August 2, 2017)
An Aegean Breeze of Peace. A book of poetry, co-authored with Demetrios Trifiatis. Inner Child Press International (October 12, 2015)
Trance. A trilingual poetry book with own translations between English, German and Turkish. Inner Child Press International (December 12, 2013)
Inner Child Press “Our Authors” Page
For An Aegean Breeze of Peace, see also:
Blindness
in the silence of a forgotten consciousness
there is a word that yearns to be spoken
that will unlock the memories
of my soul
i have searched near and far,
within and without,
but no where can it be found
in this empirical dimension of expression
i do know of its existence
for it whispers to me
from time to time
through the threads
of this malleable fabric
which i believe to be
my reality
my heart is pained
and my conscious self is thirsty
and i am enraptured
with a wonder
that will not loose me
the heavens of night
do naught but increase my want
and my desire
for resolution
to these things
and movings
emanating from the very core
of who i am
there is no satiation
to be found . . .
inebriation lasts not
the distraction of the world
but aggravates my need
for salvation and satisfaction
i have sought the love of another
and though the treatise was pleasant
there still exists an infirmity
that causes a duress
which i can not abate
i have meditated
and sought the stillness
and laid my weary head
upon her breast,
yet not have i found that rest . . .
eternal
the world here
gives but momentary solace
and that is the root cause
of my malcontent
it is not justice meted out by another
that stirs my irk and my ire,
but that of the seemingly deaf ear
of That I Am-ness
which fashioned me
in this cauldron of need . . .
and absence
i see myself as but a solitary seed
seeking to crest this dark furrow
which entombs my possibilities
yes i wish to but sprout, bud and blossom
and lend my fragrance unto a world
of my blindness
that treads lightly
with no surety
there is much fruit of my loins
that lends its sweetness unto existence
where the things of dismality dominate
and the darkness has permeated
my own light body
and infested me with doubt
where i ask is thy faith,
why is it always a tenant
of the unseen . . .
if that be the case,
where doth the substance be stored . . .
in my dreams ?
at times i feel like a vessel
that is almost full,
yet lacking that particular essence
that will transmute my being
to overflowing
i am but a chalice
that longs for the lips of thy Lorde
to kiss me with presence
and unbind my beauty
that i may flourish
as i was envisioned to be
there is a blindness that abides
and i cannot see clearly
through the trees of my forest,
and my acumen fails me
for my thoughts are lowly
and dwell under the rock
beneath my ardent longing
absolution i beg for,
repentance i have offered,
i kneel at the altar
of all that is sacred
begging for deliverance,
and yet still
the obscurity prevails
take from me the scales
that i may know yet again
of thy truth
liberate me from the bondage
that has enslaved me
as a child of its own
dastardly and wretched ways
yes i yield . . .
i am cloaked in a void
where there is an abysmal haunting
that teases me,
entices me
to a certain diligence,
to push forward
regardless my lack of sight
though my blindness dominates my journey
there belies a hope
that some day
i shall again
know of You
and I
and the cosmic construct
that frees our souls
to return
to that place
where all is well
with my soul
touch me
© 12 April 2016 : william s. peters, sr.
http://www.iamjustbill.com
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Beautiful response, dearest Bill. Thank you.
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the message
i have come to whisper in your ear
the way back
to that which you long for
i will hold your heart gently
in my grace
as i kiss your soul
that it remembers
it’s celestial divine
there are no gates
which cannot be opened
and no doors
which cannot be unhinged
for the key to all things
is yours to claim
within you are all the answers
and the only requirement
is for you to trust in the purpose
we know of the doctrine,
and we may speak the tongue
if we but let go
of the transitional world
of empiric things you heed . . . not
there is a calling
you have known of
since your in-carnation here
and the distraction
has become our way of life,
as we have put aside
our omnipotence
we cling to
and we eat of a lesser fruit
that offers but a bitterness
that cannot endure
through the speakings
of eternity
i ask not for your bended knee,
for that is yours to give,
or not.
i ask not for your supplications,
for that is a gift
i have given
that you may be clear
in the path
of your intentions
and that which you offer
unto life
the message is plain
the message is simple
and the fabric upon which it comes
is without stain . . .
the wrinkles are of your own making
the “I AM” has no crooked roads
and it is all knowing
while we blindly
seek our destiny
the tongue is as a forge
which can either
lay the illusion to waste
and burn the dross
that your purity may shine through
like a beacon
upon the darkness of men’s ways
once again
let us cut to the quick
and bleed the poison we have eaten
upon the earth
that Mother may cleanse
our temple
the message
is not new,
for we always knew
the path we must travel
we may travail along the way,
we may find our road to be filled
with melancholy,
but we must count it all
as a blessing,
for only by way of the hard
do we become soft,
and by way of the soft
do we realize
our steel
incline thy ear unto the wind
and listen as she whispers
the way to the loosings
of the incantations
that have bound you
yes, let go
let go . . . let go
and hear your name
be spoken upon the ether
and come back home
where your soul
can once again
sit upon the throne
this is . . .
the message
© 25 March 2016 : william s. peters, sr.
http://www.iamjustbill.com
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Another beautiful response. Another thank you from me.
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Kaybınıza üzüldük. Allah rahmet eylesin. Sevgiler, Teoman
Sent from my iPad
>
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Çok teşekkürler, sevgili Teoman. E-mailim sanırım eline geçmiştir. Benden de sevgiler.
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