Random and free
The idea of the artist in my head coalescing the vapors of experience into something more tangible and therefore real to the naked mind of the naked and cold skeleton that was a human before the wolves of a society ravaged and tore limb from limb the child in my mind. . . . . . .that creature I created to better deal with the surroundings, my child, my only child. . . . .my shadow and my light, my screamer and the crier. . . .but I killed her, and gave being to a demon god in the back of my heart that cannot bite and does not want to eat, just sits and waits to digest the morsels of my external most being . . . .inner eating outer, lesser killing greater until there is no possible way to create an equal, no way to distinguish who or what is the leader, a leader is not what you follow, a leader is who you do not question and when the two halves become a lesser piece of one another. .
what happens then
The idea of the artist in my head coalescing the vapors of experience into something more tangible and therefore real to the naked mind of the naked and cold skeleton that was a human before the wolves of a society ravaged and tore limb from limb the child in my mind. . . . . . .that creature I created to better deal with the surroundings, my child, my only child. . . . .my shadow and my light, my screamer and the crier. . . .but I killed her, and gave being to a demon god in the back of my heart that cannot bite and does not want to eat, just sits and waits to digest the morsels of my external most being . . . .inner eating outer, lesser killing greater until there is no possible way to create an equal, no way to distinguish who or what is the leader, a leader is not what you follow, a leader is who you do not question and when the two halves become a lesser piece of one another. .
what happens then
VIEW 6 of 6 COMMENTS
I want to dance
I want to sing
the songs of a thousand years
a hundred deaths
many triumphs
even more pifalls
Rushing down through the mire
the tears--the rain
up through the pyramid of power
Ever ascending
retracing my steps
quenching my thirst
The river has run dry
Beyond these changing scenes
I see another--always in the
distance--yet in some subtle sense
an arms length away.
Vision quickened to the extremes
I see vibration unscathed--unhindered
flowing endlessly, inviting yet
austere, saying "come play with me"
It seems to be waiting with endured
patience, expecting nothing, wanting
everything--all of me.
Scenes transpiring, aloof from the
madness I stand off to the side
as if waiting for just the right
moment to jump in. It never seems
just right.
Now it hits me--in the midst of defeat
laid out before me is the pinnacle
Awareness unconcealed, everpresent
like an empty stage.
"Fill it with what you wish--I shall
always remain empty--for you are
only one of many who has entered
my presence. Whatever remembrances
you have are there and gone--for you
stand alone, perplexed at your creations."
Clarity dawning-- view uncluttered
The stars are mine. I own your
presence. I shall pay my dues
excuse myself--then go on my
merry way clicking my heels to
an original tune.
I shall call it "my way". You are
free to see and feel it in your
own way. Forgive me and forget
me--I still remain inside this
drame--center stage without
fright--with courage I battle
against all your probable odds
Although I grow in years with all this
said and done, I can smile.
sorrow unspoken now, I feighn age,
wisdom, sage of confidence. My death
will come, and it will go, and you
will stay or be gone. We face it as
equals, with lifes trials in the
background, or foreground if you wish
Still poised I will move on, slung
from this grave of despair and
desolation out into this vastness
we know as the unknowable.
p.s. alot of my thinking was prodded by
readings in mysticism, especially Carlos
Castaneda