frank
i need a little clarity, i need a little direction.
oh boy, the last time we were on this ride,
it was a tussle, and i almost lost my hat.
somehow, this time around, after 500 days of uncertainty,
we arrive at this port, thinking, where to next?
took a walk around the corner, realised that we are still standing on the same point.
how come we look for the ties in the sewage and spectacles in the fields?
do you remember the night they showered us with sand,
and christened us with moonlight?
i fear the senses becoming numb, becoming jaded.
strength derives from within, keep your back straight.
we still have miles to go before we put up our cloak.
zooming through clock towers on my burgundy carpet,
around sharp corners and gargoyles’ laughter,
i realise that i’ve gotten used to the old tunes.
can we cast away our ropes and reach outer space?
are you scared that it’s too foreign or not foreign enough...
this walk of life blesses,
people are guiltless and beguiling.
people are guilty and self-righteous.
people are indifferent.
people drown in a sea of irrelevance.
distract me, masturbate me.
till i die in ecstacy, in a pool of cum.
why do we long for the sacred?
who is inferior? the one who dictates, or the one who listens?
who is superior? the one who is competent, or the one who is still learning?
can’t you see there is duality in everything we do.
we are simultaneously inferior and superior.
like a nucleus, magnetic and infinitely possible -
when the force unleashes, infinitely broken apart,
they begin to evolve.
atomic grounds like coffee beans, awake and alive,
ushering a new era of consciousness.
we all hold that power within us,
it is simultaneously the beginning and the end.
as mystics go, round and round an infinite circle, we come back to this one
point.
a point that always tends to a point,
but never quite touching it -
this is the truth.
there is no truth.
Masterful! This is such a potent piece, like an eight circling round and over again.
I feel an ease in the wake of reading this, as if, somehow I get it; yet that seems presumptuous too.
This piece I want to share on my page (resteem). Thank you.
Ditto! Thank you for sharing ; )
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STOP
interesting, but weird form
We are all equal, nobody is more than anyone. Beautiful poem, for reflection. regards
lovely poem, thank you!
nice
Great job