The Psalms of Mortality: The Kingdoms of Thought
Written by Henry M. Piironen
Copyright © 2012 Henry M. Piironen
A Part of "The Psalms of Mortality" Series
1.
A scene this is not,
Nor a play or a dance of the timely,
Of ideas,
Consequently binding the freedom of the mortal,
Away from the timeless ascension.
These kingdoms of thought,
A time bound to the ways of creating an opponent.
Too early gone in the womb of emptiness,
The bold eagle rising only to live or die.
Befriended from the truth of timelessness,
All the architectures and kingdoms of thought
And all the Earth inherited,
How bound are you away from the timeless ascension.
Now eyes opened to the lives of the freedom of the soul,
And all things disillusioned;
The mortal moral can see,
Bewildered with the howling whispering:
“In these kingdoms were my thoughts,
Thus for them I almost gave my existence!”
2.
Oh Holy Jerusalem,
When Mary and Joseph nurtured the King,
Be not misled away from your Holy Ghost!
As well as descended,
So ascend thyself,
I, with my Lord,
Will visit the Kingdom of His Heart!
Seek Him from the Thought,
Not of the unholy stones;
For the Kingdom is that of Thought,
A Word made to manifest,
Thus He spoke of Him and His Kingdom;
And calls the Nobility of the Spirit,
Away from the warring minds,
And the Kingdom of Forgiveness Spreads to be the Earth;
Like an act of compassion overcomes The Law,
In the forest of secretive bloom,
There the Love is made to dwell;
O, What of this kingdom of heaven,
For Mortals,
Not for Immortals,
All it is made of is Love!
3.
Come once more nearer of this mystery,
For empowering,
For embracing,
For rejoicing,
Such are these cups of mortality,
Now overly salted,
Slowly bitterness makes its way;
Oh how dramatic must you be,
Oh how much weight must you put into scales,
Like a bag full of stones,
Now transformed into feathers!
Like for bodybuilders,
The feathers are made to carry,
A horse or a mule,
Oh what a dramatic spirit are you!
Filled courts of the made,
With quarrels, suspicion, and conspiracies;
Away from such realms of thought,
Let the feathers make you manifest!
Though this mystery speaks not,
A little while passes,
The timeless doctrine of freedom thus rises!
Let all the kingdoms of thoughts be seen in your mind,
The Wings made of Heavy Feathers away casted,
You may love on lightly,
Though not out of life’s eternity,
From empowering,
From embracing,
From rejoicing!
4.
That all I asked from myself,
From content,
Not out of illusions of the timely mind;
This realm that is the kingdom of the timeless mind!
Always liked to hear a neighbor speak,
The willing soul embraced,
Then summoned the heart of the poet,
But do not so expect from others,
I love despite the corruption of the fowl,
The beauty being born,
That is not to be given away so,
What of the nature of others,
Should I shape my mortal soul so?
To do according to one’s own nature,
Not expecting the soul of another to be so shaped,
Thus I am free from the hands of the others,
I shall do good despite facing evil,
I shall do evil despite facing good,
For such is my nature,
Out of myself,
Not out of expectations it is born!
5.
Plato, Aristotle, Solomon and Socrates,
For my young spirit,
With mysterious teachings of wisdom,
So they opened my eyes to see the seldom,
From there began my way to this kingdom,
The mastery of knowledge,
And from there,
All that is existence!
Further exceeds the depths thought,
A dawn of the power of all powers,
Such flames shape his wings!
Laid nobly to his knowledge,
Thus sings the choir of his soul,
Forever of these mortal thoughts,
Even briefer than the life of a moth,
So the thoughts outside wisdom twirl,
Made to compromise,
But what are his wishes,
Like a blasphemy to the society,
Then the only wisdom,
Not rising from a mere chance,
Yet even them being the repetition of times long since gone!
6.
The loving roads ahead,
Outside pensive moralities:
The excused.
Living outside narrow principles,
They once were as if concrete facts;
Another for excusing immorality,
Another for excusing morality,
Such puzzles he rarely touches:
The excused.
The call for freedom comes from afar,
Like the faintest of all sounds,
Opportunity to hear the hear the final liberation,
No such ability should be concealed,
With thought he retakes the reins,
In vision of faults that are not faults,
Thus becoming:
The excused.
7.
To be idle as a sin,
Only by working receiving its praise,
The mortal wanders,
Never asking,
What treachery is this!
In the flash of light,
The seventy seven freedoms are opened,
Which once fed him,
The wind blowing above the grasses,
That sleep,
Providing all the honor above Earth,
How political does that sound to my ears,
For God and Country,
Not for the rights of the Mortal,
To spend time in idleness!
The gracious freedom,
To rise into existence,
And from one’s own nature,
Not from the handiwork,
Receiving and giving praise!
8.
The Sisters of this mortality,
The burden of age above her,
And therefore,
For this quickening soul bound,
The honor should be made profound!
The beauty enervated by time,
The burden of mortality is made sinister;
Brothers, be not deceived,
Loving her more also in lust,
Carry these burdens throughout their voyages!
9.
A nation free of discrimination,
Such is the dream of the wise bu
t deceived,
A nation free from being hurt by names,
From there begins the true enlightenment,
And I,
Chronos Art,
Embrace this freedom with all that is my love.
The bronzed and silvered names,
With these thousand times men must fall;
Speak this truth to your mortal soul,
Promise,
“We will not do so!”
In the rights of a mortal,
Must you claim the knowledge of your own nature;
If it be not pleasing,
Alter it,
An unspeakable knowledge is this,
Whether a prostitute or a king,
Heart,
That is your only truth.
10.
Senators, Presidents, Governors and Leaders,
How now, O Mortal,
Shall you bend your right knee?
What, O Mortal
Are you here to be?
The needs will not wake you,
When the rage and hunger for freedom enslave you!
A sad cry fills the air,
Without the need to be ultimately free,
Exceedingly with doubt he follows,
The leader of the soul!
The winds blow,
The grasses bend,
The attitudes of the mortals change,
Once the freedom sang,
But for tens of thousands of years,
So long have the illusions grown!
11.
With the freedom from the marks,
So I do love my brothers and sisters of mortality!
As you rise to this ascension,
Call no witnesses to it.
Come,
My brothers and sisters of mortality,
Travel to the highest of the spheres,
I do not pray you,
O mortal to wear this cloth,
That thought which elevates you,
Why should it not then be so?
Those rules that separate every part,
The unequal words of these kingdoms cast us aside,
This with not with eye can you see,
This obscurity,
Only your heart can decide!
12.
To love,
The lucid parts sing,
But not,
My brothers and sisters of mortality,
Do we all these songs sing.
Love desires to become complete,
And thus it does not compete,
To merge to the most beautiful of songs,
The Unison of Hearts.
A timely corpse,
A timeless mind,
I heard them both,
To praise this most beautiful of all songs;
The Unison of Heart,
Will give you great joy,
O mortal,
Have the sound of your soul make you manifest!
13.
To plant a heroic seed,
Something soothing rises that way,
This nobility cures thousands of faults;
What nature these seeds be of,
They rise even at night,
In time,
The lost respect is forever no more!
Call none to witness this,
The delights of the gardening
All that rising within!
The Messiah we are not,
But the fragrance of the nobility spreads,
Rising toward the surface,
Made to be seen without words!
14.
The sweet September,
Does it darken and pale,
Those who walk in the timelessness,
Do they feel the sound of the diminishing thunder,
At the sweet September,
Those,
Who walk in the timelessness?
Steady,
As if being mad,
Without apprehension from the closing winter,
Where the sweet summer after spring do not sing,
Your greatest of arts,
To praise all seasons of what they are,
Like the bird of paradise that moves not with the sun.
15.
A paradise not lost,
A deep,
Unshadowed joy,
The escalation of triumphs again and again,
Glories follow the masters of knowledge!
With the greatest of poets,
The blessed souls are raised,
And with the greatest of poets,
They find their immortal rest.
The noble human who without fear,
Accepts the coming loss of this dear,
The life before the womb of emptiness,
Like an angel conquers the freedom,
In a paradise not lost.
The foolish, humorous, baffling villain,
What a character have been brought to us to laugh at!
Without hearing the wisdom,
O, what a mortal is this!
The flight from time to timelessness,
Forever born in honor,
The crown of history,
The triumphant and brave,
Deep in joy,
The kings of these mortal realms ascend!
16.
The impervious spheres of knowledge,
Held the coveted pride in silence,
Wherefore the crown of all was found only by few.
Dazed and dazzled,
The look of one’s house before birth;
The lost souls are to be lifted,
From noble purposes,
Elevate the content of your brothers and sisters of mortality;
In error they fell,
Let us speak to them forever more!
17.
Before elevating your hearts,
You must say,
“I know you not, my own grace.”
You still young to this World,
Still dizzy from the uninhibited joys,
You who are still your own,
Avoid the misfortune of the misunderstood values!
Elevate your heart to nobility,
But celebrate existence in all your ways!
Sons and Daughters of Nature,
Hear the wisdom of William Blake:
“And I am black, but O my soul is white!”
You are your monument,
The triumph of your arrival to this land of mortality embrace!
The wisdom is for the young to understand,
Not to oppress,
But to elevate your hearts,
Into Nobility!
18.
The echoes of your liberation,
Such is the voice of your thunder,
As strong as the mountain,
Of your ten thousand folded soul!
With my corpse shrouded,
My soul is naked,
The more freely I speak of my nakedness,
So true, honest and vivid are my joys!
What dangers are in your nudity,
A tone of your soul,
With the evil mouth shut,
And thousand good mouths open,
Drink and speak of the wines.
Whether from a distance,
Whether from near,
Let the echoes of your liberation,
The voice of your thunder,
As strong as the mountain,
Of your ten thousand folded soul,
Embrace the moments of your experience!
19.
Learning from the ancient king,
The ears and eyes opened,
Ride fiercely in the moments when the Pegasus arrives!
That rising,
Advancing upward path,
When after forging you set your soul to be free.
With pleasure of the work you have done,
Now as the moment when the Pegasus arrives,
Create endlessly and see what now opens above and belo
w.
The Tower of united humanity around you,
Without the battle of your yesterday,
Let your soul be elevated,
The moment when the Pegasus arrives is here!
20.
From your cheeks to your bones,
The liberty of the past is made mature.
I cannot speak of the liberty of the future,
The winds of humanity so rapidly change,
From the mouths of yet unknown Humanists!
The sweetest beacons of liberty,
So young,
So tempting,
With the flame of its spirit still raising itself,
Your most brave desire to be free of violence,
Equal in value:
“Though once we were beasts,
Yet now we are ascended,
Above the farthest horizons,
Seeking not to ever return,
To the darkness of slavery of discriminations!”
21.
Like the unthinkable peace between an Eagle and a Sparrow,
The Right and Left arm must make peace to be whole again!
How in the day of separation,
You gave away your greatest strength.
In a shattered palace the void of reasoning appeared,
Now captives,
Like Cain and Abel,
Unbrotherly love forged the coming of a fire cave!
Then turning like a breathless runner,
The brothers are mystified,
From their immature self-deception.
Was anything true in the truth of harmony,
Voices separated in the temple,
The sun and the moon,
The darkness and the light,
To wrong against human and things below,
What foolish arguments in the land of mortality!
22.
The creativity must recognize itself,
Creativity must see itself for what it is,
Only then can it be unrestrained,
For becoming wave above the oceans deep.
The courage feeds the wave to rise into a storm,
Without intentions of defending itself,
The labor of becoming one’s own storm awaits.
Great many storms,
Storms of the past and the present,
Like the ancient Olympians occupy the heavens,
Now the young storm like a Titan seeks itself to appear;
Unexplored is its unconquered creativity,
Yet forever deep,
For a lifetime to spend are its mysteries,
For the eyes that seek more,
Thirsting for a greater reality to be,
Thus creativity itself expanding so to be,