Melancholia I by Albrecht Dürer Brave acts make a difference, love heals, compassion annihilates suffering, sincerity leads to all hearts, and benevolence crosses all borders. (Tilted Rotten Sky, Rayka Rush) Freedom is the highest human expression of existence. It is a profound sense of autonomy, a feeling that we are the masters of our future paths. In the Western culture, art is the highest expression of inner freedom. It is a similar experience as breaking the ego shell in Buddhism, or getting in touch with the world of spirits relevant for Shamanism. Freedom is not what is outside of us, but within, and it is the finest expression of life that manifests who we are. Any mastery, knowledge, true activism, sincere endeavors, compassion constitute the art of being human. Let's create new freedom realities! This blog is an addition to the new growing mind awareness: expressing ourselves through arts, essays, prose, or discussing topics with an attempt to bring some interdisciplinary and alternative approaches to expand the knowledge and our consciousness. This includes the “new science” that moved from the traditional mechanistic picture of the world to the interdependent world of energies. Welcome to the Pathless Streams of Freedom Presence blog, read and comment poetry, essays, and follow our inspiring sources offered with this interactive blog.

Latest Posts

Catrin Welz-Stein_4476076037739319130_n

Cabin Sketch II: Perigee Moon

Our life is a hot-coal cabin sketch Caught in a velvet net of the perigee moon lake reflection with the background of evergreen woods roar and secrets shut on our pierced lips where the coldblooded worm still digs through our sealed hearts hang on the question mark and stubbed by the pole through bleeding doubts…


Wilderness of Poetry

Poetry is youth’s wilderness of broken rules and a missing arrow piercing the middle of the two intersecting hearts drawn with the impermanence of a white school chalk on flat asphalt driveway’s square left to be washed away with the first kiss and sorrow of a never ending day that sinks hopeless with calamity of…

Irene Hardwick Olivieri

Dirac Sea Dive

Down the hidden, prickly, summer, dirt trail Awaits opiate lilies valley prostrate; Sleeps elapsed sky in the lake arms… Do you hear… …breath of moving stars Touching fractions of the lost pine forest Between squared county road lines? Dark woven spilled teary load, Laced in an aerial night Dominated by the Waxed moon sorrow mask–…


Bow the Rain Haiku

Bloom wet June rainbow in sunset long spine hair curls; tie wild with a bow. Rain drips a night sap into the sweet peaks of dreams; stars burst in your palms.