All posts by Joti Lit

Hi you that is reading this, Thanks for visiting. I enjoy thinking and learning. And with the thinking and learning comes the writing. I hope what you read will give you something you can use in your life. If you want to tell me anything about what you read or tell me about your own things that maybe you want to run by an unbiased view, just send me a message via the contacts page. I will respond I promise. Also, I love reading food menus and symmetry. Have a unique day

How To Win The Coronavirus

Every morning I wake up and hope yesterday was a movie. What is happening right now seems surreal. At first I thought whoever they are were just wanting Chin and Iran to fail, but if that’s all they were trying to do, it was highly mismanaged.

Anyhow.

This is a great time to get to the old ways. Or it would be if we were all living on our homestead farms. Now, most people live in buildings and are packed down south as much as chicken farms.

But, we can read all those books we wanted to read and learn all those languages we said we wanted to learn if we only had the time. And we can develop those businesses that we said we would when we had the time.

Basically, this is your time.

If you didn’t work, what would you do?

What you do now is the answer.

Become a verb

If I could be me

As much as a tree trees

How wonderful life could be

 

Nature exists in perfection. It becomes the verb of itself. A tree trees, air airs, earth earths, fire fires. They perfect what they are supposed to be. If we as individuals take ourselves as a verb and perfect the being that we are, then great heights we can reach and wonder of all ages we can see. If only we can commit to be the verb of our being.

The Man In The Cardboard Box

Poetry allows you to interpret the words of joti heir through the eyeglass of your own world.

The Man in the Cardboard Box

 

You think I am embarrassed

I see it in your stares

I am not

There is freedom

In in living without care

Yes my clothes could use a sew

But a covering is not worth

Hours of slave dough

I was like you too

A long time ago

I tried with all my might

To give it a go

It all stopped making sense

A few years ago

And then it made sense

Life became mine

I feel no defeat

Yes I sleep in a box

In a public square

But the stares don’t bother me

Nor do the glares

After you are done with that meal

I’ll enjoy the rest of it

They give me the same power

They gave you

I’ll squeeze some lemon on it

So I don’t get your slave flu

You can save me if you want

Maybe I’m doing it all wrong

But I don’t see the difference

Between a bed under the sky

Or one cemented up high

Here the birds see me

They don’t glare or stare

They just sing along with me

Now please don’t feel sorry

You can also come for a bit

We’ll have jolly times

Until your human owners call

So you can make money

For that food that I enjoy after you all

Don’t worry you see

I am not crazy

I just discovered this world is not for me

And I don’t see an exit

So I will calmly wait out the storm

So I can get back to where I came from

Normal Does Not Exist

There is no such thing as normal

Just acceptable and unacceptable levels of insanity

Who determines that is a mystery

We don’t know where we came from or where we are going. So could there actually be a thing called normal? Is the person who douses themself in drugs and alcohol normal because they can’t stand the insanity?

Or is the person who walks on and  ignores the insanity in a sober state normal? There is no such thing as normal and supposed to be … don’t you believe?  So if there is no normal, it means you must must be exactly who you are.

That is the only thing the universe expects you to be. A 100 percent expression of you.

Awareness

It is strange to be a creature

aware of it’s own demise ….

 

Do you ever think about the fact that one day you will not be?

The very thought can suck the air and induce crazy thoughts

That is likely why most choose to be bossed

A fake security to make meaning of being lost

In the meaningless matter

Without ever trying to make anything better

It is not all lost you see

The messages we receive are just drugs and seeds

The real sits inside you and me

There are no rulers and givers of good

Just one who exists and one can make things be

You

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Thought of Woke One

 

The ways of the world makes no sense

Sometimes I want to escape myself

Hover high above

And wait for something else

 

Sometimes … well a lot of the time, our world just seems lie a meaningless bump on a log. Actually a bump on a log might have more purpose.

You wake up – get out there. And then wonder what it’s all really even about.

I don’t know.

Let’s just create art, perhaps it will bring beauty to the nonsensical.

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The ways of the world make no sense. Joti Heir