© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved

If guilt is hell 
 What is the deluge to dispel?  
The trouble is in my mind  
Operating in guided time 
 Attack to hell  
The ringing of the bell  
A calling from  
The holy well  
The wisdom shaking 
 From a shadow’s spell  
Give it away to keep it  
Continuing to reach it 
 The understanding  
To beseech it  
Blessing my enemies 
 Granting them peace  
While standing up  
To the ability to teach  
I stand in the summit  
Of the mist as it twists 
 The fervent movement 
 Of my will 
AL

WISDOM SHAKING

© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved

I met you on a plane 
Sitting by yourself 
Not knowing fate 
Was about to be dealt. 
As I was  
Escaping myself. 
A vision of presence 
Became 
An experience of 
My life 
As I was about to 
Meet my wife. 
Unaware of the 
Intrinsic leaping. 
A willfulness 
That keeps creeping 
Past the direction 
Of what I was seeking 
The crossing of 
Our paths 
Bringing experiences 
To internal ever last. 
Two lives that 
Blast past 
Projecting to what they 
Have been cast. 
Love  
not the next task 
the joining of two hearts 
simple and free 
to experience a life 
of you and me. 

Unaware of the 
Intrinsic leaping. 
A willfulness 
That keeps creeping 
Past the direction 
Of what I was seeking 
The crossing of 
Our paths 
Bringing experiences 
To internal ever last.

On a Plane

© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved

The Deliverance 
From something 
I have become. 
The perception 
That makes  
My heart numb. 
This is how 
We become dumb. 
The value of the form 
Overriding a soul 
Justifying a vision 
And its norms. 
I call upon my name 
This hallowed  
sacred identity 
Is all the same. 
To know what  
You don’t know. 
To see when 
It doesn’t show. 

The acceptance 
Of the invited angels 
Surrounding  
The ground 
Around me 
As they sing 
And spread  
Their wings 
Granting me 
A chalice 
Allowing me to see. 
I am not a body 
I am free.
 
I am among 
The ministries 
Who and what 
Has changed me? 
Buddha, Christ, 
Mohammed, Shiva 
Their names are 
The same as mine 
In this sacred plea. 

The acceptance 
Of the invited angels 
Surrounding  
The ground 
Around me 
As they sing 
And spread  
Their wings 
Granting me 
A chalice 
Allowing me to see. 
I am not a body 
I am free.

The miracle of grace 
The gift of 
This holy place 
Inside my place. 
Freeing me 
Of a world 
And what is displaced.

Deliverance

© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved

Forgive to live 
As the form is born 
It’s up to me 
The mind that esteems 
To see 
Past all my superficial 
Specious fallacy. 
Impermanent 
Or 
To be 
That’s really 
The question 
Of the voice 
In me. 
I am not a body 
I am free. 
Salvation of the world 
Rests on me. 
Copious and free 
A harmonious calling 
Of an ancient 
Melody. 

Humble and free 
Willing to go 
Beyond words 
Which might affront 
Their stance 
To experience 
The dance. 
The romance 
Of grace 
The truth in place 

Arrogance 
And illusion 
Which quails  
Into the trigger 
Of what’s simply 
Not real. 
Humility of 
This trinity 
Connecting past 
Infinity 

Humble and free 
Willing to go 
Beyond words 
Which might affront 
Their stance 
To experience 
The dance. 
The romance 
Of grace 
The truth in place 

To the ecstatic bliss 
Of love and loving. 
The direction  
Of me 
Is the humility 
To be.

Ancient Melody

© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved

The logician’s 
Cognition 
Is 
A mental 
Expedition 
Past the light 
Of our sourceful 
Recognition. 
As the materialist 
Will not logically 
Experience it. 
Serious rift 
Of a serious split. 

Is it the light 
We cannot see? 
So who and what 
Turned it on 
In me? 
Seeing it boot up 
Through you, 
Is this something 
We always knew? 
Can I exaggerate 
Something 
We inherit? 
In essence 
Of my presence? 

The stillness 
In time 
The shining  
In my mind. 
The cognition 
Becoming 
Articulation 
Of a holy vision 
Inwardly seeing 
The universe 
Smiling 
And gleaming 
A consciousness 
That’s streaming 
Out of 
a continuum 
born in 
my mind. 

Is it the light 
We cannot see? 
So who and what 
Turned it on 
In me? 
Seeing it boot up 
Through you, 
Is this something 
We always knew? 
Can I exaggerate 
Something 
We inherit? 
In essence 
Of my presence? 

The light 
You will find 
Directing the way 
Not seeking  
Or acting 
As if we are blind.

Boot Up

© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved

The sword
Of judgement
The evil
Dead
Or joyful awakening
The truth
And where
The mind 
Is led
To walk
In the valley
Of death
In the night
Where
Children
Are not
Being fed.
A state of
Our denial.
Leaders being
Blackmailed
As they
Defile.
The acceptance
Of me.
The doubled edged
Sword
That will
Set us free.

Joy to see
The joy
To be.
The joy
That brings
The peace
To me.
Joy to give
Truth to 
What will
Set us free.

The double edge
From judgement
To love.
The movement
From within
The sword
Twisting
And cutting
As it sores.
Moving across
The air
Balanced by faith
Allowing to move
Accepting
Its grace.
The shifting
Of consciousness
Within our space.
To lay down
The sword
Is 
The consecration
That takes place.
To move from
A mind
Debased
And
Defaced.
Yet,
This is 
Where joy rises
As it awaits
Our awakening
In this
Simple fact
The mind begins
To look forward
And back.
Joy and peace
Never attack.
Truth does not
Have to 
React.
It stands
Upon its premise
As we lay
Gratitude
Onto our
Teachers.
Filling our hearts
As we hear 
the speakers.
Choose joy 
Instead of pain
Not the 
Commandments
Of the insane.
Holiness
In place of
Sin
Not some voice
Blackmailing you
Keeping us
Stuck
Where we’ve been.
The peace of God
Instead of
Conflict and light.
Light of Heaven
Instead of 
The darkness
Of the world.
The doubled edge
As our choice
Is diverged
From what it swirls.

Joy to Be

© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved

Carried out 
Into the night 
Against my will
Beseeching death 
As if it were 
Some thrill. 
Selling my 
Honor for 
The value of 
A dollar. 
Not knowing 
Of a sponsor. 
Accepting my faith 
As my hand begins 
To shake. 
Puncturing my soul 
As a mind 
Looks to forsake. 
The actions of me 
As the angels 
Wait for my  
Choice to see. 
This immovable 
Blockage 
In front of me. 
The spark  
Of light 
As I quiver 
In fright. 
Lurching in 
The shadow’s plight 
The call 
To the light 
As the paramedics 
Work with 
All their might. 
Glimpses 
With delight 
That the mind 
Can see  
In the night. 
The awakening 
Of me 
Is the realization 
Of being subjected 
To what is free. 
The choice 
To breathe 
And follow 
The soul 
That’s purpose  
Is to lead. 
I bless 
The holiness 
In me. 
In silence 
And true  
Humility. 
“I am not a body 
I am free 
For I am 
Still as God 
Created me.” 
“Art is a lie 
That makes us 
Realize 
The truth.”

Picasso Said

© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved

Forgive 
Is 
To Live 
And let live. 
The understanding 
And transparency 
With the  
Soul’s inerrancy. 
The ego’s discrepancy. 
As the universe 
Grants clemency. 
The grace 
Of dualities. 
Coherency 
While my clarity 
Looks at 
Relational 
Disparity. 
An act  
Of insincerity. 
The tendency 
Toward 
Popularity 
Becoming the route 
Of jealousy’s 
Psychotherapy. 

The understanding 
Of this hegemony 
Becomes extraordinary 
Freedom of  
The toxic parodies 
Ascendancy. 
The sick and  
Tortured mind 
Groping in darkness 
No more. 
The lesson learned 
The lessons to be 
A will with lessons 
Of freedom to see. 

This bondage  
Of self 
As separation 
Is being dealt. 
From a therapist 
Or a parent 
Where love is not 
Honestly being felt 
Or 
Transparent. 
The key to 
This conundrum 
Separation 
One from 
Done from 
Affront from 
Look to 
It’s opposite. 
Acceptance 
And love from 
Not to 
Judge from. 
The agony of me 
Is the toll  
Of the false 
Perception. 
I see 
Being laid down 
In front of me. 

The understanding 
Of this hegemony 
Becomes extraordinary 
Freedom of  
The toxic parodies 
Ascendancy. 
The sick and  
Tortured mind 
Groping in darkness 
No more. 
The lesson learned 
The lessons to be 
A will with lessons 
Of freedom to see. 

Forgive, and you 
Will see differently. 
This path to  
Nonduality. 
Becomes a reality. 
Grasping at 
The illusions 
Of  
money 
Property 
And prestige. 
Will not 
Control the liege. 
Freedom 
Of choice 
And joy 
To fulfill 
Not  
The projection 
Of separation 
And guilt. 
I will forgive 
And this will 
Disappear 
The removal 
Of pain 
And fear.

Clemency

© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved

My ability
To discern
Is 
in actuality
To learn.
Peddling
 meddling
Becoming
Unsettle ing
Hindering my development.
The future
And
The past
Is not 
The task.
To which
Duality
Can switch
At last.
To form
Or light
Night
And it’s fright
My sight
Taking flight
Across the sea
With its
Joyous delight.

Leaving a position
Not really seeing
An intrinsic
Absolution.
A volution
A divine revolution.
The ego’s
Dissolution
To the soul’s
Attribution.
Eliminating
My confusion.
The voice’s
Diminution
The gifted
Devolution.

A mental elusion.
Becoming my
Disillusion.
The gift to see.
The gift to give
The grand connection
Of the we.
The gift to
Set all free.

Leaving a position
Not really seeing
An intrinsic
Absolution.
A volution
A divine revolution.
The ego’s
Dissolution
To the soul’s
Attribution.
Eliminating
My confusion.
The voice’s
Diminution
The gifted
Devolution.

It’s not in
What we say
But
In what we see.
The consciousness
Of me.

Divine Revolution

© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved

The absence 
Of presumption
Is not
My gumption
But
To embrace
My function.
The introduction
Reconstruction
Induction
A conjunction
Past 
Obstruction
Construction
By abduction
The seduction
My divine
Hyperfunction
Becomes my
Redemption
The entrance
Into
Non-duality.
This reality
Of possibility
Illusionary
Neutrality
Representing
My mortality’s
Awareness
Of
Immortality.
In generality
The brutality
And liberality
Part of
Normality
Or some
Formality
Of equanimity

My reality
Is the expansion
Of my soul
As I become
A golden pillar
Standing
In the center
Immaculateness
To vacuousness
Just damn foolishness
The bliss
With my function
Of forgiveness.

To let illusion go,
Is 
the point
We should not miss.
Gandhi's passiveness
In the face of
What had to 
Be witnessed,
From light
To matter
It’s the duality
That shatters
The blockage 
Of the mind
From within.

My reality
Is the expansion
Of my soul
As I become
A golden pillar
Standing
In the center
Immaculateness
To vacuousness
Just damn foolishness
The bliss
With my function
Of forgiveness.

It’s not 
Where you go
Or
Where you’ve been
It’s just a mind
That sees no sin
Or
Time
Controlling
The light within.
It’s the universal norm
Not the perception
Of our forms.
“Through 
The transformation
Of awareness
Into form
Each thing
Attains
Its
Nature.”

My Reality

© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved

Cit Aikya 
Becomes 
My sight 
The willingness 
To move  
From my fright. 
Don’t perceive 
The attack 
It will put you 
In a state  
of lack 
It’s time  
To go back 
To a place  
That doesn’t  
keep track. 

The mind  
Is not 
White 
Or black. 
The perception 
May not be 
The fact. 
Oneness 
And awareness 
This is a  
State of 
Poetic clearness. 
The state of 
True conscientiousness 
My vision is 
The decision 
Of my original 
Nature. 

Original sin 
The crucifixion 
Where my mind 
Has been 
The lifting of 
The veil 
The understanding 
That all is not 
Necessarily real. 
Is it you 
That you feel 
Oneness 
And awareness 
The granting of 
The universal 
Harmonizing seal. 
Limitless and free 
Power and strength 
Abide in me. 

The mind  
Is not 
White 
Or black. 
The perception 
May not be 
The fact. 
Oneness 
And awareness 
This is a  
State of 
Poetic clearness. 
The state of 
True conscientiousness 
My vision is 
The decision 
Of my original 
Nature. 

Let go 
As my root 
Extends deep 
And my mind 
opens 
As my heart 
Embraces 
The awareness 
The presence 
Of a soul’s purpose 
And nature 
To love and serve

My True Nature

© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved

The salutation
Of my meeting
What I approach
And how 
I’m greeting.
The ability
To see
What and who
Is leading.
This Goddess
Of who?
This Goddess
Of what?
Is my mind shut?
Can God himself
Invite 
What will disrupt?

From him
To her
From her
To him
Where do I find
The gratitude
Or oneness?
From the field
That has
Always been.

Is the 
Speed of light
Always the same?
Then,
How does
Non-duality
Arrive?
Can it be time
Is to blame?
My gratitude
Speaks softly
Of the gifts
And death
Ever no more.

From him
To her
From her
To him
Where do I find
The gratitude
Or oneness?
From the field
That has
Always been.

As my heart 
Speaks out
To a mind
To implore.
The Goddess
Of awareness
And the ego
Nor
This magnitude
Of my gratitude
Is not just
A statement 
Of worldly
Platitude.

From him
To her
From her
To him
Where do I find
The gratitude
Or oneness?
From the field
That has
Always been.

The projection
my perception
Beyond the mind’s
Contemption.
The gratitude
And the Goddess’s
Awareness.
The oneness
From the 
Divine conception
Of my soul
Moving through
A field
Where time
Is not something
You hold.

The Field

© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved

There he was 
A shadow  
In my mind 
On the walls 
Or standing behind 
To prove death 
One step 
At a time. 
Always looking 
Reaching 
To find. 
Chasing illusions 
Surrounded  
By shadows 
The darkness 
Of my mind. 
An attempt 
To steal 
What’s sublime. 
Lost in 
The world 
A stranger  
In time 
Not knowing 
What to do 
But acting 
As who? 
Attempt no more 
To win 
Through losing 
Nor to die 
To live. 
If change is real 
And facts  
Or not 
What I feel 
Can I seek 
Without compulsion? 
Do I trust 
My own emotions? 
Can I hear 
The voice 
With another notion? 
Can I see 
Without the spell’s  
Poison potion? 
The bridge that 
Will be crossed 
The question is 
When my worldly 
Entrapment 
Is willing 
To be tossed 
And I confront 
My conflicting goals 
The lost  
And found 
Of my 
Very soul. 
The peace is 
The bridge. 
This 
Where my 
heart lives. 
Surrender to win. 
It’s not important 
To where I’ve been 
Or the future 
But the presence 
Of what’s within. 
Peace  
With no sin. 
Or, A life with 
That chagrin 
But the peace 
That’s always been. 
Through a path 
Wherein 
As I listen 
To the ancestral 
Violins 
They dwell 
Therein. 
I drink from 
The chalice of  
Atonement.

Ancestral Violin

© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved

Salvation without 
Abandon 
Who and what 
Can it be 
Demanding? 
To be clear 
Or to stand 
Narrow 
It is up to me 
To be still 
And fallow 
Upon a stage 
With my 
Inward rage. 
Beseeching nothing 
Becoming the sage 
Becoming aware 
Or just led 
Like sheep  
To nowhere. 
Can I be connected 
And not separated 
Through and through 
And still see  
Truth in you? 
To be right  
About everything – 
The very thought 
Seems to sting 
Like an alarm 
Sounding as it rings 
While the world 
Continues to sing 
And dance 
The connecting 
From a vision. 
The sounding task 
Maintaining our 
Equilibrium. 
It always come back 
To the decision. 
Needless to be 
To be or  
Not to be. 
To listen to 
What I see. 
Understanding 
The connection of me. 
Is within 
A recollection 
And the projection 
In the middle of 
A humanitarian 
Objection. 
Fire and ICE 
The salvation  
Of our device. 
Laid upon  
Her blessing 
As she stands 
Majestically 
Forgiving 
The acceptance  
Of the truth within 
The sanctuary 
Space and time 
The absolution of 
An absolute existence, 
The sublime mind 
My apprehension is 
The mental contention. 
Blocking the intrinsic 
Attention. 
Free my extension’s 
Intention 
Through  
fire and ICE’s dimension 
Communication of  
The realization 
Becoming  
The annunciation 
Through the consciousness 
Of our civilization. 
To be a vessel 
Of creation.

The Annunciation

© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved

The return to one. 
One life 
One love 
One world. 
The life  
Of a tree 
Standing 
And free 
Come and see 
The light in me. 
Do or do you 
Not believe? 
The proof is  
In the air 
Your breath 
You don’t have 
To stare.

One Life

© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved

Don Quixote rides again 
To roam 
To find home 
Don Quixote is never alone. 
His page 
His sage 
His squire 
Sancho for hire 
Righteousness and valor 
Became 
His secret power. 
Honorificabilitudinitatibus 
Creating honor 
Is my must 
Fire and Ice 
My soul 
My honor 
My courage 
My sword 
Fear no more! 
I stand in the light 
And choose to see 
Miracles in my sight. 
This choice 
Is the fight 
To know what’s right 
Death cannot fight my might 
As I ride my Mustang 
I am a knight 
Destined to set 
Things aright 
Don Quixote is alive 
In my mind 
Looking for 
Love 
Honor 
And atonement 
Seek  
And it appears 
In the moment. 
Three layers 
Of consciousness 
As the mechanism 
Of my illusion 
My honorable conclusion 
To love and to loss 
No wall is too high 
Or impenetrable 
For the destiny 
Of my soul 
No fire too menacing 
No ice too cold  
The speed of light 
Dancing with time 
The restlessness 
Analogous 
In my mind 
Fundamental rhythm 
Of my routine 
Broken by 
The culture  
And the dream. 
The speed of light 
Is broken by 
What is difficult 
To find. 
Rocinante 
To Don of the dawn 
Lives on!! 
Past time 
And all of its crimes 
Regret no more! 
My honor 
I implore! 
Through space and time 
As I begin to explore 
The world’s cruelty  
No more! 
Don Quixote rides 
Through time 
Love’s sublime 
The courage to find 
Peace  
In my mind.

Don Quixote Lives On!

© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved

Guided by  
The reflection 
From the moon. 
Guiding through 
Where there’s room. 
Disidentification 
Would be a real 
Complication. 
As fog blocks 
The light to me. 
The light  
To my mind 
Illuminating 
My chest. 
Reflecting onto 
The ocean 
Of my gut. 
I thirst 
For what’s entrusted. 
To denounce 
The words 
That are pronounced. 
To hold 
Or 
Let go. 
The disidentification 
Of the lie. 
But, 
Is the perception 
Important 
Of what’s inside? 
If I see it 
As an illusion, 
Does that 
Allow me 
An obnoxious 
Conclusion? 
Is all love 
Just specialness 
Of a form? 
Is it all an act 
For me to perform? 
What point of view 
Is there to ensue? 
Do I fulfill my obligation 
To you? 
Spiritual principles 
And my to do. 
Is the light on me 
And you? 
The next right thing 
I can do. 
Propelled through life, 
I do know what’s right. 
To act with the light 
To keep it going 
With all my might. 
To let go and receive 
Its grace, 
Sharing the light 
From my own space. 
As I let time 
Continue on 
It’s race. 
The abutment 
The pillars of God’s grace 
Do I disown and call it 
To atone? 
I can understand 
But in what way 
Do I plan or act 
With no cause? 
Will I become lost? 
Keep it in the moment 
Look for the atonement.

The Moon's Reflection

© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved

I am ruler 
Of the universe 
Could it be 
Because of  
Something humorous? 
From my omniverse 
The gratuitous gift 
From the exuberance. 
To the communicants 
Through service 
And illuminance. 
Not unbidden  
Or forbidden 
But the allowance 
Of me 
To set the world free. 
As Poland is  
Being squeezed 
By the drones 
Looking to see. 
Can it be 
Up to me? 
This ascendance 
From only a deference. 
How can this all be? 
A world and me. 
Waiting for me 
To direct it’s fate 
And mold the space. 
The planets 
Have no gravity. 
Has it been erased 
Or is it me 
Transcending through 
Time and space. 
Where am I  
Within this 
Human race? 
Am I in a state 
Of divine grace? 
Or in a state of war 
Trying to sing in place. 
Could it be 
I’m singing 
With grace? 
A diaphragm 
Vibrating, 
Projecting a sound 
As my feet are 
Deeply rooted 
In the ground 
With the knowledge 
Of the vast divine 
Message 
Of what is profound. 
The understanding 
That it’s me 
To see me. 
To let it all free. 
The projection of 
An emotion 
Through a 
Harmonic potion. 
Bleeding form past 
Its own denotion. 
My Self is ruler 
Of the Universe.

Sing the World Free

© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved

Disputants 
On a ledge. 
Not knowing 
What comes next. 
Not knowing 
All the while, 
what was place 
by the red. 
Or - by the who. 
Of what came through, 
by the blue. 
Go forth 
From me to you. 
This decision 
Is IN you. 
Who and what 
will come through? 
Is it the heart 
that speaks to you? 
Or a soul 
that always knew. 
A relationship 
with my ego 
through and through. 
What would be 
the conversation, 
if it was fear 
I never knew. 
Which board game 
would we pursue? 
Can you play chess 
just for two? 
Would there be a place 
where the heart  
can play too? 
Is it just me and you? 
To believe in God, 
Am I a fool? 
Or, is it the soul 
that was placed 
there within 
me and you. 
The web 
from a river 
flowing through. 
How do I talk 
and address who? 
Is it in me 
Found in you 
Or 
just a belief 
that I ensue? 
Did it come 
from me  
or you? 
How will I know 
if any of it 
is actually true? 
You will know 
by the communication 
to you. 
Empty in place. 
Create a space. 
Experience 
the presence of 
this flowing grace. 
Refuge in love 
from me to you.  
Do not hold them  
captive to death. 
You have the power 
to release 
the world you see. 
As you speak to me, 
you will see me.

On A Ledge

© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved

Psychological poisoning 
Of our minds. 
Not understanding  
The constructs 
Confounds the environment 
Of DSP 
Becoming the desperation 
Of me. 
Not knowing 
What to be 
And being led 
By what we see 
Actors on a stage 
Propaganda  
Of a moral outrage 
The opinion 
From the apprentice’s display 
The fox and their friends 
Their lies and 
Their ways 
A moral decay 
As they portray- 
A principle-based focus 
In disarray. 
The reach and how 
They sway. 
Green energy  
To coal play. 
Science to guns 
To resound principles 
To the embarrassment  
Of pronouns 
This villainization 
Of a culture’s renaissance  
In the name of 
The word of God. 
Making us out 
To be sheep 
While their message 
Is a cattle prod. 
Fire and Ice 
The fear to entice. 
Pronouns don’t 
Make us mice. 
I have the power 
To define my own life! 
Not subjugated  
By illusional strife. 
The greedy thinking 
Of their design 
In spite of the divine. 
This crime, 
Is not mine. 
Denied by the truth, 
Away from time. 
Transcend 
Transfix away. 
Let love define. 
A spiritual awakening 
In my mind. 
My heart flows 
Through time. 
It cannot be casted  
Or touched,  
By the trumpet’s crimes. 
Forgiveness ends 
All suffering and loss. 
Returning the mind 
To it’s true thoughts. 
How do we  
Confront lies  
that come across? 
Is it a gain or loss? 
A manuscript 
Of truth 
That’s in a state  
Of forfeit. 
To feel the soul 
Or hear the spirit 
To know that it is a 
Conversation of a clairvoyant. 
Forgiveness ends 
All suffering and loss.

The Apprentice

© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved

Dispirited.
Ego-centric.
Is this what is
Never mentioned?
To live a life
and not to love
and never commune
with the healer from above.
When I die,
will I be thinking,
“Life passed me by?”
The question appears,
What will I cry?
It will be the 
great old blessing
from the sky.
To see my old friend,
to hope thee 
Just don’t walk by!
To celebrate a life
where I did more
than just show up
and try.
To know me
and you
and the great healer
In the sky,
Is all connected
to my source inside.
To the days I live,
To the day I die,
I’m going to give
My blessing
To the great source 
inside.
It’s more than
going up to
the great spirit 
In the sky.
To find my God,
my source, deep
in the well inside.
To not live
dispirited
but to understand,
as I rest 
in my source,
I become inspirited.
Not gibbeted 
Or a house billeted,
Disinhibited
Unbigoted.
Spirit in
Spirit out,
appear amid
throughout.
A life no more,
Searching only
to find
the great blessing
was and always
will be
placed to rest
right inside,
by the great
spirit in the sky.

Spirit In The Sky

© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved

Safety lies
in truth.
What do 
I believe?
This becomes
my decision –
a mental decree.
Where do I look for
the peace in me?
It becomes
A notion of
where and when
we want to perceive.
Sheep ready
to believe.
Looking for
credibility, 
while there’s
something up 
their sleeves.
Could it be
I’m outsourcing
something that
is in fact in me?
A realization
that can be.
Misguided by 
some notion,
Threatened with 
fear’s potion.
A social-psychological
erosion.
As the creep
continues his commotion.
And our religions
become more broken.
What becomes spoken
that the truth 
is interwoven.
It’s the change
That happens.
A quotient with
continual motion.
While its source
is never broken.
Part of the vast ocean
of emotion.
Open to the realization
Of love’s atonement.
In not before,
or what comes next;
it’s the presence of
this great dialect.
A conversation
with no words,
a feeling without
any verbs.
A state to be,
a state to see.
A state of knowing
I am right here
with me.
A citadel
with no walls.
It’s the present
that calls.

Citadel With No Walls

Rest in Peace Max

© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved

Impermanence

© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved

The joy of my awareness 
Is the expansion  
of my soul 
as my Crimson is 
being shown. 
The world is seen 
Through what I know. 
The question is, 
“Do I have the acceptance 
To see this humility?” 
To listen and understand 
My true calamity. 
To nurture and heal 
my sub personalities. 
Developed through 
my traumatic reality. 
I pray for the grace 
in me.  
The knowledge to see. 
The safety from wisdom. 
To touch the soul 
in me. 
The intrinsic leaping 
of a continuous spirit 
through eternity. 
Not tied to the past 
as I am allowed  
to stare 
at other’s happy atmosphere. 
While I continue  
to make myself plead 
this ephemeral sorrow 
that is strangling me. 
Why don’t I understand 
That this psycho-drama 
can be 
my Brahma. 
No more self-casted upon 
or blame mama. 
I am surrounded by 
the love of God. 
This glimpse of salvation 
Leads me away 
from my own destructive 
reservations. 
I am not the saboteur  
of my own life today. 
The resounding love 
surrounds me 
as I sit 
and meditate 
and pray. 
The ecumenical  
Joy of awareness. 
Just for today. 
Grant me the willingness, 
for my spirit to stay. 
The depth of my perception 
needs to become 
greater than  
any subjugation. 
For my spirit to become free 
in the complications 
of the world I see. 
I will not cut 
And watch myself bleed. 
I know that love 
Is my path 
To be freed.

The Expansion of My Soul

© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved

The hegemony 
not understood, 
how it influences 
my propensity. 
My reaction creating 
an atmosphere, 
uprooting and hurling 
as my perception 
adjusting to the swirling. 
Confusing my focus 
As I listen to 
Some type of hocus pocus 
of the truth. 
The anatomy of 
my conceptual thinking 
misplaced as my spirit 
begins sinking. 
All all at one, 
Creation’s gentleness 
Is all I see. 
See it where? 
A place where the audience 
Is taught not to stare. 
The attention is  
Directed elsewhere. 
Perhaps by the narcissistic gleam. 
Deny, dismiss, devalue and divorce. 
Becoming their common way. 
Controlling the narrative 
Of discourse. 
So, there it sits unabashed. 
Within its gentleness. 
Bestowing the grace 
Of my acceptance. 
The question is, 
“How did I miss this? 
It was placed 
in a state 
of my illusion. 
Ashamed and divorced 
from the communication 
of my very source. 
Denied by the truth 
of my nature. 
by something 
that pretended 
to be greater. 
Dismissed and devalued, 
by the disparaging acts 
of mindfulness that loomed. 
Please old faithful spirit 
in order to breathe 
I will need soon. 
The exposing of  
This hegemony. 
Bringing back  
the breath 
to me.  
I lay my sins 
on it no more. 
Giving me the light 
To endure. 
By the hegemony 
that attempts to shadow 
my propensity. 
The uprooting 
of my soul 
is the perception 
the choice 
for this subject 
to behold. 
The illusional  
Traumatic ties 
Of my sub-personalities. 
These sins I laid 
In the reflection 
of my vision. 
The world of 
celestial gentleness 
becoming my decision. 
To be defined by 
The object of 
What I see. 
Or to plan and  
simply be free. 
To accept me 
As me for me. 
Giving me  
the power to see. 
The blessing 
to be free.

Old Faithful Spirit

© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved

How and  what
who and when,
to compart mentalize
 my mind.
A clarity
you will find,
from the understanding
the settling
you define.
Epiphanies
lost in your mind.
From egotistical
To FOMO consensual.

It’s about finding you
Not chasing
The bamboozle.
Your gain
Over someone’s loss;
this is 
The double-cross.
Win
by going
within.
Lose
by going
without.
My homage
to my soul.

All the experiences
you will know,
You reap
what you sow.
The mind will become
friend or foe.
To experience
and go.
To go
is to flow.
Now 
is your how.
Truth becomes
The Grand
Internal
Wow.
Just love
And remember to
respectively bow.
The remnant to be
is the way I see.
Life within
the parody.
Sympathetically free.
The grand illusion
to endure.
No more!
Life with
no shame.
The relinquishment
of doubt and blame.
Just the truth
to tame.

It’s about finding you
Not chasing
The bamboozle.
Your gain
Over someone’s loss;
this is 
The double-cross.
Win
by going
within.
Lose
by going
without.
My homage
to my soul.

Knowing how.
The willingness
to stay 
in my lane.
To not leap
Into what’s
casually
metaphorically
insane.
I sit
in wonderment
of a vision
that illuminates
and frames.
Frames 
the truth
and outlines
the lies.
Creating a visual
of this consciousness
to what’s inside.
The paths 
of our lives.
Becomes analogous
to what’s real.
The coupling
Of your choice.
The disposition
regarding a condition;
a coalition
or demolition
of our own ambition.
Recognition
Of our
Own volition.
the edition,
a suspicion
through our emission.
In opposition.
Self-imposed
Attrition.
This transposition
brought upon
an admonition.
Needless to be
It becomes
what I see.

My Grand Internal Wow

© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved

To know love
through
the boundaries of time
What is the point?
Is it up to me
to anoint?
My shared purpose
with the world 
and beyond.
Please guide my
actions today.

As I watch villages
Being bombed.
How am I supposed
To respond?
To see rhetoric spewed
at the others.
How and when
Did we forget
They are our brothers.

Only an instant
does the world endure.

Will I make it holy?
To begin here and now
or cautious and slowly?

Is it mine to make?
Or do I just take and take?

This tiny instant
full of wonder and mystery
sitting front and center
or on the periphery.

Is it full of pain
For the world to endure?
Or is it happy and free
Just waiting for me/

It is my choice to see
As the world endures.
This holy instant
so simple and pure
In truth is it
right now
Showing me how.

Make It Holy

© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved
Purification
Is a desire
Stemming from
the intrinsic 
and 
empathetic leaping
defining what’s seeking
an application
of the action
reaping 
as our consciousness
is reaching.
I don’t have
original thoughts
as I watch
what comes across,
Are they just
A coin toss?
Can they be victims
of the past?
Is time spinning
too fast?
As I jump into now,
I can see 
a better picture of how.
Willingness
Openness
Honesty
To undo who.
Who and what
Subjugated you.
Listen to who?
Listen to what?
To be confused 
Purification
With no subject
Sleeping in the dark
Confused by the light?
Confiscation
of my spirit.
There is no need
To fight.
A force 
to be reckoned.
As the soul beckons.
Not the mind
And the aggression
But a conscious ascension
While they are 
preaching Armageddon.
A concession
Of my intention.
The Whoa is 
How we go,
Neutrality is how
We can know.


Preaching Armageddon

© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved
 
Do you see what I see? 
Do you think the way  
I think? 
Do you feel what I feel? 
Opportunity 
to impunity 
discontinuity 
of our communities 
affinity to our  
true identity. 
Despite this 
Importunity 
Of disunity. 
Assuming “he” 
And his insanity. 
My blessed humanity 
Is greater than 
The incredulity. 
This is not duality. 
A mistake 
A misguided reference 
The belief in indifference, 
The Stoic distinction: 
Apathy verses indifference. 
The deliverance  
from our own innocence. 
To know 
I’m not supposed to know. 
“Just walk on by –  
wait on the corner. 
I love you 
But we’re strangers 
When we meet 
Just walk on by 
Wait on the corner.” 
I will not go  
silently into the night! 
How can I not 
know my own apathy 
while I feel this fright? 
If I live in the light 
I will see  
what’s not right. 
Please help me 
Understand when 
to run or fight. 
To stare into or 
look away from the light. 
The genocide  
Of my denial 
Is just love  
That’s being defiled 
By hate and beguiled. 
To look out from within. 
To speak of a world 
With no sin. 
To reach past time 
Not knowing  
Whence its crimes. 
Love all, serve all 
asked a gift of me 
And one I give 
that it be given me. 

*Si Babba 
*John Milton’s 1645 poem. On the Morning of Christ’s Nativity. 

The Stoic

My gratitude is not
another platitude.
It’s where love
never eludes 
the experience.
The fact of
Grace’s impact
on the mind
and the heart’s 
soulful relationship.
This divine act
hearing the message
while the mind
keeps track.
Not confused
by the senseless 
journey - illusion
keeping in contact.
The demarcation,
 
The difference
Between grief
and gratitude’s
 illumination.
The transference of
Love across
the darkness.
The action
 of a dove.
Nothing lost
Not alone.
Just the journey
returning 
home.

To love
is to never 
have lost
the transition
of what we cross.
Thank you 
for the time.
Thank you
for the experience
of love’s continuance.

The difference 
Between grief 
and gratitude’s 
illumination. 
The transference of 
Love across 
the darkness. 
The action 
of a dove. 
Nothing lost 
Not alone. 
Just the journey 
returning  
home. 

Nothing lost 
Not alone. 
Just the journey 
returning  
home

Thank you  
for the time. 
Thank you 
for the experience 
of love’s continuance. . 

The Journey Home

My Eruption
My messiness
Confused
Disordered
Unkept
At times
even penniless.
Did I create all this?
My state of mind
My quaternity
calling me back
once again
to my abstract
reality.

Beyond the walls
of hate.
Only meant
to separate
and instigate
Frustrate
Spewing rage
as I protect this
illusionary cage.

Directing my attention
To more doom scrolling
Projecting the 
Horrors of
Painful cruelty
All of this
Trying to fool me.
To join hate’s cause

I remember
To pause
My
Because.
An ancient call
Beckons
To decorate
My heart
With love’s reminder
To check-in.
My moment
Of adoration
Beyond
And yet
So near.
As if
Right here
Waiting to respond.

To realize
This reflection
of the world’s disorder
begins at home
in my mind.
My equanimity roams.
Ubiquitous
Limitless
and free.
Abundantly
providing me.


My Eruption

Who can it be?
Is it up to me?
Protecting the truth
or is it 
vengeance I see?
vengeance is mine
or
Will this hurt me
More than 
It will hurt you?
Is “who”  mine?
Is “what” projection
from a mind?
The truth and eternity
are intertwined.
The joining 
of our will 
is what I find.
A karmic reaction
not a form
of satisfaction.

The truth
and not vengeance
is our interaction.
It’s greater than me
And beyond
My ability
To understand.
Not
 the consequences
of projection
and its demands.
Karma is not
universal justice.

It’s intentional action.
The five aggregates
Of the condition
And the extraction:
Leave it to me,
Believe in what you see,
Self eternally free,
The courage to be.
My divine holiness
is not up to “we”.
My character 
“Is” contingent
upon 
intentional action
from me.

The truth
and not vengeance
is our interaction.
It’s greater than me
And beyond
My ability
To understand.
Not
 the consequences
of projection
and its demands.
Karma is not
universal justice.

Justice is laid
upon a mind
not necessarily free.
Consciousness “is”
the witness
of the form.
Experience
And 
Labeling
creates its norms.
what I was yesterday,
does it make me
what I am today?
My holiness
will always stay.
The truth 
Is
Our way.


Universal Justice

God bless
 the second coming. 
Regretted coming 
Dreaded coming 
Something coming. 
Ice and people running. 
Look at what we see. 
Willingness 
and forgiveness 
Let it be. 
Oneness
 over emptiness. 
The state of joy. 
Through the body 
Through the mind.
Nirvana 
out of space and time. 
Remove the clouds 
Release the attachment 
There by fact. 
I see or create 
from nothingness. 
Filling the space 
created in me. 
Brahma and 
his divine creation 
of drama. 
From the Golden Egg 
To Dharma.
Returning from 
My original state 
or emptiness 
to a clean slate. 
To experience in full 
or to deny my refuge. 
Eluded or acceptance 
the acknowledgement of 
me and you 
while my sense is 
all I ever knew. 
Contemptuous 
Incestuous 
Tempestuous 
Strenuous 
Ingenuous 
Disingenuous 
Rescue us 
Eventual 
Ineffectual 
Accentual 
Perpetual 
Often to 
What is 
Conceptual.
Nirvana 
out of space and time. 
Remove the clouds 
Release the attachment 
There by fact. 
I see or create 
from nothingness. 
Filling the space 
created in me. 
Brahma and 
his divine creation 
of drama. 
From the Golden Egg 
To Dharma.
Does it rise 
From the ground? 
Or a spirit and sound 
Possibly, 
a white light awakening 
to be found. 
A journey with no compass 
But a spirit from within us

Perpetual

© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved

The absence
of impermanence
is
my present happiness - 
all I see.
This decree
Based on the fact
The eyes 
 that begin to open 
see at last.

“Nothing real
can be threatened
Nothing unreal
exists.
Herein lies
The Peace of God.”
Self that is here
but also beyond.
Niyati is my peace
as well as my bond.
This permanent state
of joy
is how I respond.

Consciousness
without impermanence –
the awareness of
no turbulence.
Peace to see
Peace to be free.
The movement of
the everlasting self
inside me.
Not attracted
to what I see
but, connected to 
all consciousness
that is and will ever be.
All pervasive
and free.

“Nothing real
can be threatened
Nothing unreal
exists.
Herein lies
The Peace of God.”
Self that is here
but also beyond.
Niyati is my peace
as well as my bond.
This permanent state
of joy
is how I respond.

Metaphysical
Critical
Political
Empirical
Analytical
Atypical
Lyrical


Quizzical
Mystical
Egotistical
Biblical
His civil
Pinnacles
Hypothetical
Equal to
 the tune of
what I’m believing.
The changing of
what I’m seeing.
Seeing and believing.
A mind accepting
what is freeing.
There is no choice.
Just the moment
of what and how
we choose to rejoice.
A play on words
Sanctioned from 
What’s not absurd.
All-pervasiveness
Is in the interpretation
Of how we think
Of spaciousness.

Excerpts from A Course In Miracles

Niyati is My Peace

© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved

So fast
But yet so slow
The winds of change
The fear of loss
What must I forego
When all I hear
Is the calling of my name
To let go of the reins
The cycle of life
The rhythm of now
Becoming my holy how
To trust in
I know in my heart
I feel it in 
my weary bones
My happiness
My sorrow
My joy
And my peace
Are found 
Where and when
I atone.
And will always be waiting
for me today and tomorrow
As November slumbers
I am reminded to slow down
To feel the ground
To feel the space 
round and round
The ancestral calling
Of all those who
walked before me
paving the roads
building the arcs
caring for
our national parks
inventing and making
nearly everything
before me. 
Ferrying to and fro
I bow my head
In thanksgiving
Oh the winds of change
are a calling.
The light in me
The light in you
The light I choose
Is my roadmap
Is my guide
Everything 
I think I want
is binding me
It will provide me
I am ready to let go
Now I decide
To let a new perception
come to me
I bow my head
Gratefully
I know the way
If just for today.




November Slumbers

© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved

From night to day
From day to night
A mind that sees
Something to fight.
The gamma 
in the light.
Bending 
and
refracting
world fright.
I may not feel
my companion’s might.
But this restoration
need not
leave my sight.
Casted into
the night.
The movement of
what’s right.
My meta movement
My meta might.
My meta thinking
To what’s right.
Can it be me
that accepts 
the world’s fright?
From self to soul
spirit to mind,
The confiscation
creating actions
of mine.

My will
My sight
My decision
while working
through the night.
Ego in time
The belief
my mind is blind.
It’s not what’s behind
or a point in the future,
it’s the role we play
as and with
the divine ruler.

The understanding
Of illusional abuser
Trooper
Accuser
Shooter
Looter
Poorer
Loser
Stupor
Something 
Sooner
Then later.
Knower
Deliverance 
of grace’s power.
The power to see
The power to be
The power to release
The darkness 
Has captured me.

My will
My sight
My decision
while working
through the night.
Ego in time
The belief
my mind is blind.
It’s not what’s behind
or a point in the future,
it’s the role we play
as and with
the divine ruler.

The Role We Play

The placement
of my sight
The deference
in my night.
Does my Mighty Companion
speak no more?
To whom and what
do I implore?
Is love removed
as before?
Born in the light
Sanctioned without fright.
Namaste to
an anonymous display.
Placed on a pedestal
In disarray.

To what and whom
do I say?
Has my mind,
myself,
my companion
been sent away?
How do I live
and love this
very day?
The grand deflection
erased by
Life’s rejection.

Confusion
at the point
of inception.
Narcissistic
decree
An illusional belief
to see.
Normalcy
of simplicity
in me.
The outcome
of my savior
to walk with
my neighbor.
As I find
love in
my labor.
The moment
to be savored.
The cone has
what flavor?
To what and whom
do I say?
Has my mind,
myself,
my companion
been sent away?
How do I live
and love this
very day?
The grand deflection
erased by
Life’s rejection.


The experience of me
in an entanglement
I can be free.
Honor and atonement
Love found in 
this very moment.
Justice and valor
As I stand
on the 
Hallowed ground
The nightingale sings
to me.
The poems
A message
The passages
To be free.
Free of hate
And the turbulence
That forsakes.
The construct
Of illusion
Is not the
Pedestal’s solution.
Look up to the sky
See the birds fly by
not some Aryan 
Conclusion.
But the inspiration
Of a united nation.
Not subjugation
nor separation
with greedy blaspheming.

To what and whom
do I say?
Has my mind,
myself,
my companion
been sent away?
How do I live
and love this
very day?
The grand deflection
erased by
Life’s rejection.


The deliverance
From impermanence.
Corrected by
The determinant
Into a present state
Of furtherance.
As angels watch
With concurrence.
I sit with me
Listening to see.
A world of 
Passage and experiences of
the light from thee.


The Grand Deflection

[Verse 1]
Create a door in your mind, the path has become mental
It's not specifically, all the task to do a list that ever lasts
Your goals within your grasp, a bucket list from the dreams of your past
The freeing of your soul, with everywhere to go, what we reap is what we sow
This karmic judgment we all know
What the doorway represents becomes an instrument, of the abundant, not the repugnant, never redundant
Intentionally triumphant, but super abundant, not some duck hunt of a spinning pundit
I am here, the way will become clear
Don't let your heart become caught in some snare
Listen with no fear, a mental picture will present itself here
The construction of a thinking that will erupt
From the subjugation of its form, this is our soul about to be born
The lifting of the veil of mind being revealed to the truth as we kneel or sit in its grace
The power of standing in awe
Consecration of a celebration of the doorway within
With your heart and mind, the rational soul not being blind
Removing the blindfold from justice's design

[Instrumental]
Vengeance never comes from the divine

[Verse 2]
Replace love back in your mind
Your goals within your grasp, a bucket list from the dreams
From the dreams of your past, the freeing of your soul
The freeing of your soul with everywhere to go
What we reap is what we sow
This karmic judgment we all know
What the doorway represents becomes an instrument, of the abundant, not the repugnant, never redundant
Intentionally triumphant, but super abundant, not some duck hunt of a spinning pundit
I am here, the way will become clear
Don't let your heart become caught in some snare
Listen with no fear, a mental picture will present itself here
The construct of a thinking that will erupt
From the subjugation of its form, this is our soul about to be born
This is our soul about to be born
Born

Doorway to Your Mind

o drift
With no direction
Aimlessly wandering
Captured attention
Where does this
Leave me?
Walking the world
Unconsciously
Haphazardly
With no alchemy.
Intrinsically,
There will always
Be matters
To capture:
Bad grammar
Go faster
Bad actor
Look at her stagger
Another cadaver
Oh god, his swagger
Moves like jagger
She is flatter
She is fatter
What a gabber –
Turn the page
A new chapter

Where is my
Courage
Momentum
My joyful exertion?
I know intrinsically
It is in me
Deep down
When I slow down
Connect to the ground
When I pause
And recognize
Illusions’ disguise
My Karmic transformation
Is  my 
Personal equation


Capturing my attention
One more distraction
A chemical reaction
Directing my 
Outside rage
While my
Inward rage
Burns strong
My compass
Loses direction
I am left with
An empty reflection
Just anger 
And rejection
Confused
Unsettled
And unclear.
I am derailed
By fear.

Where is my
Courage
Momentum
My joyful exertion?
I know intrinsically
It is in me
Deep down
When I slow down
Connect to the ground
When I pause
And recognize
Illusions’ disguise
My Karmic transformation
Is  my 
Personal equation

To unlock my mind
To leave
Yesterday behind
To show up
Each day
Open contemplation
Is where and how
 I find
My peace
My purpose
My action
If just for today.

Karmic Transformation

We write musical poetry - a form of abstract realism - our intention is to provide our listeners with a cadence, a path to peace of mind. Stand on your purpose, Live through each day, Rest, Listen and pray. Pray for the meditative rhythm as we work and play.

TUNE Your Mind

Pinned to spotlight

Popular tracks