Human Origin

Human Origin

In its correlation to roots and home,
Way before the ancients of Rome.
Up in the sky, when most grow weary,
Our source of light and lesser luminary.

And now, I start to think,
Toeing the edge of crazy's brink,
While looking at the wheel's fourth zone,
Where the Moon rules, is a house called home.

Is the thought that unstable,
or so demented like Cain killing Abel-
similar to heaven's conjunction at noon,
The Imum Coeli conjuncts the Moon.

The answer, perhaps,
has been in front of us right-
we didn't come from a planet,
We stepped out of the light.

-Francis Joseph LaManna

Frequency Waves

Streams not of water,

but running and rolling.

Waves of frequency,

Invisible to the eye,

Flowing through the mind.

The secret is within us,

The indivisible, individuals.

And surprisingly,

The individual, on etheric realms,

is not alone.

Universal knowledge, the pool,

We can all swim in.

Opus Magnum

Celestial coordinate grids are spun from arachnids, and a world’s fear is sight unclear. They sit in meditation hoping for a little intuition to fix a situation with more imagination. But to tell the truth, imagination might be enough for humans to conquer in battle and break through the rough. Time lines of history, millennia mysteries, still making sense of it all; Space time and time in space as we’re recalling the fall. The more I walk the more I crawl.

Slow down my sun; he doesn’t say it, but I know he feels it.. Our hands meet and something happens, either a deals made, or it’s congratulations. The path forward, now set to unfold, is one that favors action, the courageous and bold. We’re awakened by incompatible opposites, which then changes our focus to the possibility we’ve returned for a purpose. That’s destiny.

And we learned that we are not trying to complete a process, but rather, we are the process. The Great Work is us! We’re being molded and engineered as our soul journeys to completion.

Hello

Good Morning.

That shooting yesterday at the Sunoco 7 Eleven was the second gas station/convenient store shooting in Lehigh County in less than a year. The other ended up becoming a murder-suicide at the Rt. 100 Wawa in Breinigsville nine months ago.

Be careful.

It’s a Saturday morning, and this is kind of like a freestyle post me. Sometimes rappers freestyle, and you can do it as a writer to. Even if you have no material in mind-just start writing.

Poetry-A Freestyle Session

No rush,

No worry,

There’s not a reason for either.

Your path is waiting Keeper.

Nature is your teacher.

No doubt,

No fear,

It shall all become clear.

Evolutionary leap,

it seems out of reach,

but it’s not.

Stop and think on this,

It’s a decision,

That’s all it is.

Enjoy your Saturday everyone.

TimeemiT

My new book, Smorgasbord 3 The Final Platter begins with this poem. I posted it on here a little while ago, but I decided to bring it back as a sneak preview of what’s to come. Enjoy!

TimeemiT

The ticking of the clock,

plays a trance-like melody,

in my mind;

a beautiful symphony.

An orchestra in tune,

perpetuating the mood,

of energetic-never ending high;

though a portrait of time,

tells us it’s noon.

Anxious thoughts and reality loom,

Oh how beautiful,

that circle filled with numerals;

yet-it ticks and ticks until our funerals.

Those hands!

Time can be harsh,

though we forget,

in the memories of emotional marsh,

the clock is ticking.

Time is running out.

Jentry 6

Hidden Inspiration

Photo by Magoi on Pexels.com

I’m tired of going digital;

giving away my thoughts has become habitual!

So now, I keep my thoughts hidden.

Whenever I feel driven,

Whenever I break from living,

I indulge in the way of the heart.

Classical art,

Paper and pens;

meditation through a spiritual lens.

It might take a ritual to solve this riddle!

We live in a world that’s magical;

the symbolism leans mystical,

though it’s hard to explain,

I will, and I’ll make it plain.

The Goddess is triple,

The stars twinkle,

and the state is blissful.

Think in terms that are simple.

-Francis J. LaManna

What Shall I Do?

How shall I finish, how shall I start,

Is it always fair to follow matters of the heart?

In the clutches of passion,

to stay buried while the whole world collapses,

would be foolish in a fleeting moment passing.

I’m counting on people now,

I couldn’t count on then,

When will I learn?

I could do it all, but I’m not the only soul with a pen.

Let it go, that’s what I tell myself,

get to work,

and put those other books on the shelf.

The road less traveled seems like a waste of time,

because there is none for all these rights and lefts,

where are you to follow through on what I suggest?

Forget it man, I’m not going back to bed,

I’m awake now and blazing the trail ahead.

And what about love?

And,

what would I do if push came to shove?

She’ll be waiting there when I get home,

If it’s real, but if not,

I shall finish alone.