Hello world! Meet the Gypsy


It’s on.  Let us see what you’ve got.

This is my blog. These are my rules. Let’s get down to the nitty gritty. Let us explore the Truth. But if you are guilty of bullshit, I will smite you might-ily.

Religion is absurd. And I can tell you why. I can break it down for you. Throw me your best curve ball.

Politics is more of a joke than religion. Challenge me, I will show you the light.

Knowledge is useless. Oh, I know what you are thinking, but you know so much, gypsy, how can you say knowledge is useless? Glad you asked. But, before I tell you, I need you to ask, like you really want to know.

I want to dispel myths, delusions, illusions, and forsake allusions, intrusions, and confusions. Will you come play?  Give it to me.

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Pariah

Cursed since birth
welcomed nowhere
a wretched soul condemned to roam
weary and restless
a spirit in endless distress
destined never to know a home
carelessly cast into wily winds which
randomly transport abandoned seeds
to neglected fields
whose harvests yield
unsavory and worthless weeds
callously exiled
from indifferent, cruel gardens
whence they came
amazingly still great effort made
in hopes of bearing fruit
though each attempt to blossom in spite
regrettably reaps the same
With nowhere to go
nor the slightest clue how to grow
perpetually lost outside of the flower bed
unwatered without sunlight
even San Pedro would lose this fight
so these whithering sprouts
succumb to harsh droughts
til they are too soon dead.

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The Gypsy Tells It | The world as Janis Zingaro sees it.


The Gypsy Tells It | The world as Janis Zingaro sees it..


heartbreak karmic floe


kindreds

two winds from the same earth’s dearth corner

reminiscent enough of gemini

to easily interchange

the convolution creates an illusory inseparability

though the tempests remain autonomously alone

rushing briskly over oceans and seas

amassing collections of debris in whirling eddys

struggling and screaching through jagged branched trees’ leaves

‘round staunchly stoney mountain crags

which hinder their momentum

until all strides are left broken

gusting gales and hurricanes

Maestroms of tunneling tornadic pain

‘cross all longitudes and latitudes

then back again

in relentless never ending cycles

every midday finds high noon

each night overwhelms the souls with starkness

just as dusk has always ushered a new day’s dawn

hope remains that zephyrs may outrun the darkness

 


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– Home.


Practice


Samsara hostage fugitive
To be forgiven or to forgive
Asks the perigee moon.
The tides roll high
towards the midnight sky
casting shadows on the picayune.

Ashes to dust and back again
Bound by vows or original sin
Karma curses mortals.
Vanquish doubt, strife and fears
watch as suffering disappears
in thresholds of mahasattvic portals.

Gate, gate, paragate
parasamgate bodhisattva
Find liberation on the other shore.
Prajnaparamita awaits you there,
once you lay down your oar.


Hurricane Kristain


As with surviving any natural disaster, I am left feeling both devastated and relieved. I weathered the storm, but now its time to rebuild and reconstruct a shelter to stave off any such destruction as I now know possible.
This time I will use steel to fortify my foundation and Ft Knox will envy my security.
I will never be caught off guard again.


Emotions


So well practiced at the art
Of not giving a shit
The act of really feeling
Makes me sick

Needing no one,
I will never quit
Loving is the one habit
I vow to lick.


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