I was challenged by fellow “30 Poemer” Mike Hopkins http://mistakenforarealpoet.wordpress.com/ to write a poem incorporating lines from the “New Age Bullshit Generator” http://sebpearce.com/bullshit/
He has already written his, and very good it is too.
This is my response.
NOTHING IS IMPOSSIBLE
Waking in the morning, grumpy and unrefreshed, I am comforted by the thought that
Consciousness consists of transmissions of quantum energy. “Quantum” means a summoning of the magical.
I shuffle to the toilet for my another, menopausal pee and ponder the fact that
Flow requires exploration.
Starting my cranky car, feeling the grinding that comes from a disintegrated engine-mount, I breathe slowly and tell the car that
The goal of four-dimensional superstructures is to plant the seeds of synchronicity rather than ego.
I walk into the bank, wanting to do battle, but, instead, gently remind myself of the wise words:
You will soon be re-energized by a power deep within yourself — a power that is psychic, angelic. Affirmations may be the solution to what’s holding you back from a magnificent fusion of healing.
Stopping for a coffee and a couple of panadol, I am safe in the knowledge that
Through ayurvedic medicine, our third eyes are nurtured by fulfillment.
As the cunt in the next lane refuses to let me in, I eventually drive past him, winding down my window to shout out:
“Reality has always been beaming with life-forms whose hearts are baptized in life.”
Wandering up and down the supermarket aisles, overwhelmed, it is clear to me that
We are in the midst of an unlimited deepening of potential that will enable us to access the world itself.
Sitting opposite some guy from an online dating site, listening to him bang on endlessly about his boring job, I see that
Our conversations with other dreamweavers have led to a refining of hyper-primordial consciousness. Humankind has nothing to lose. Throughout history, humans have been interacting with the universe via electromagnetic resonance.
As I pour myself back into bed, exhausted and frazzled, I reflect that
This life is nothing short of a flowering vision of sublime serenity. By unfolding, we grow.
part me still wants to reflect
that life is nothing short of
a load of old bollocks.