we, as the experience,
are the gigolos of the mind.
beck and call
is the rhetoric of our sensory world.
we have a paid-for ego life,
in service and certitude.
reality is the down-low
of masculine persuasion.
he-man politics is financial pettiness
personified,
where living is the shadows-cast,
from tall projections
as murmur fear-driven repetitions of mindfulness.
apprehensions looking for a rogue wave of truth
to drown the indignities
and injustices of it all.
experience is the syntactical addictive dependency.
nothing heartfelt about its occupancy.
we live to feel
for a breath of fresh-air evocative,
when thought was an embrace of unity declared,
when empathy was a common share of consciousness,
when vibrational intelligence united us all,
when quantum had no afterthought
or need of account.
experience, in this current style,
is a self of plunder.
not that the feminine heart-brain does not reign
but the kingdom-come resides unrealized,
draped in the drudgery,
of a drone-like existence
in a mimic of the majesty,
yet magnified outside-in.
a need for a reversal of fortune desired,
for experience to be from the inside-out
as in heart-brain output in overwhelm
rather than mind-brain input
as living the fallout
. . .
No comments:
Post a Comment