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Sunday, January 31, 2016

reality whisper (haiku) 1/31/16

reality whisper
hear your heart song sung to you

self love made conscious

Saturday, January 30, 2016

19th contemplation of desire 1/30/16

Desire is an etheral sundial,
inferring high noon implications
out of a flat black reality-shadow sighted trail.
A vision of this fourth-dimensional geometry,
can become the lead parade marshal
of our three dimensional realism charade.
Traveling the roadway littered with
of all human induced symbology,
mostly sourced from the desire’s nighted silhouettes
into forthright meaning,
hardly revealing the essence of desire’s enscrypition 
done in shadow-code.
Yet a parade of next moments’ images
that gives and takes direction
are as desire's roadmap
into future human expression . . .


Friday, January 29, 2016

The challenge (haiku) 1/29/16

a person does grieve
for the death of those they love
it’s part of living


Thursday, January 28, 2016

awe 1/28/16

awe, I cannot tell you.
these words are debris,
running for cover as aftermath.
barometric pressure went karaoke soloist
inside my body’s sense of things.
I accidentally opened a box of synesthetic crayons.
my hot brain-hands are from a 4th dimension coloring.
I was in the dark room with the developer.
but before I had aftershock then aftereffects,
before the flood of sensory consequence,
before wonder had a frame of reference wagging me,
before amazement had the gathering place,
awe . . .
before recognition had its bones solidified,
this levitation had imaginary force-field action.
my aura spoke through me unpronounced.
I am white-hot frostbitten by circulating cosmic must.
wiggle went by so fast as waggle owns me.
I am now only aware of picking up these pieces.
the pieces of me, slain by awe,
as I am back in the fractures of time.
somewhere I am a saltlick
if you can, of your own accord,
find a sacred way to tongue me outside of time.

awe . . .

Wednesday, January 27, 2016

the it of its stillness 1/27/16

if you could bring yourself
to stand perfectly still,
a practiced, perfectly still,
still of body, mind, tongue and breath,
you would, in your stillness,
be traveling at breakneck speeds.
Yet unaccounted for by your attention’s grasp.
Within the confines of the universe,
you are traveling so fast
as if with sensorially incalculable speed.
Think of yourself as lightning,
as a form of from here-to-there
but as a constant,
through all of the journey of the universe
and yet all but unnoticed.
And it would be even further unaccounted for
by your current attention in stillness.
Nonetheless imagine yourself as cellular
then down to molecular then atomic
and within the movement of subatomic.
well there you go,
that of itself is all fast-moving,
actually extremely fast.
Where we have frame and observance
and methods of identification
is only us, rendering masterfully myopic.
Being still, as in stillness,
is the fast-moving nothing,
happening inside of everything
and to everything
and everything is only one thing,
one complex unidentifiable vastness of a thing
that we would call, well,
that thing or the universe
or an assortment of versions of that . . . it,
as some of our observational rankle would surmise.
That places us
but we do not proceed to confirm
or authenticate or substantiate in consciousness
this unifying motion of the all,
that all, you know, the all of the it . . .

of its stillness . . .