Some prefer power or beauty wealth and fame.
Some crave intensity.
Some seek peace.
Some search for food and shelter.
Some want to die with a good name.
Everybody takes their lead from the way they came.
And everyone says they're looking for love though no one knows what it looks like.
They try to fit their thoughts to their words like skin they can touch that doesn't scar like the moon or shed like a petal too delicate for the senses but most just end up trying to mummify the mind stream .. by laying thousands of years of star maps down on troubled waters like autumn leaves, that don't know where they're going.
Eventually everything's swept away in the undertow of a dark ocean, that only smells sweet from a distance.
And longing shifts like infra-red into the blackness.
And bones on the moon are the only signs, nobody landed on Moon that life once perished here.
Orphic skulls whose jaws dropped like gates before their own gaping prophecies.
Time flows like a non-existent future into us and it fills us with a hunger
for everything we've lost or feel somehow was always missing.
One of the cardinal features of the emptiness we are conceived again and again out of is there's nothing behind its face you can fix like an identity to space.
For fourteen billion years the universe has been nothing but one long beginning must have an end, making everything up as it goes along out of nothing
like a man whistling down a long road .. far from home, late at night .. to let anything that might be listening in the darkness. know he's there so nothing can take him by surprise.
And every step he takes. he steps across a threshold like a star
just coming into being, whose light goes off in all directions looking for blind water it can turn into eyes.
Bosons hadrons leptons neutrinos wimps and quarks the deeper you look into the matter; the more you realize out to the furthest galaxy and beyond .. seeing is being and being is all fireflies.
And every one of them is true north of nowhere.
Some people follow their own beginnings like laws into the future, hoping to become someone else that doesn't recognize them anymore for who they were.
The peduncle's lost in the ensuing phylum.
Not because their future's rich but their past is always poor.
The planet doesn't spin on its axis for them.
It's hinged like a door that only opens one way though God face, that begins them like last year.
But the leaves of autumn aren't the laundered money of spring, because if our fulfilment weren't already behind us, we wouldn't be here trying to true the last to the first, of an unfinished multiverse like the best to the worst as if red were the past of blue.
Stop thinking birth is the past of death or spring is the future of winter as if they weren't the same breath and one breath of life weren't enough to keep the fireflies glowing in your ashes for eternity and everywhere you look you will flower like a vine; that divines its way to the wine by ripening the grapes of gratitude.
You will understand, for all that you have grasped and brought to fruition
I most exalted aspiration, is a heap of dead branches in the spring
burning like leaves of fire. still reaching out for the sun and you will hear the mind-mirror whisper to itself.
like the wind on far off waters
Narcissus is drowning in his own reflection like the flashback of a life he left unlived but everything is immersed in me .. like a mind
like a sea in a fish that ran aground on the uncharted land falls of its own teaching.
And the wine will flower in your mouth like a grail that's given up preaching
and finally found its own voice like a bird returning to a tree at nightfall to call out in its solitude, to the stars as they appear
we are here we are here we are here, where we belong at peace with everything we're missing
everything we long for
everything we are and are becoming
that overtakes us like music from within transforming ..
the silence into song
the water into wine
small beings into a big space
looking into the passing face of everything's that's mortal about us
with our eyes fixed upon the divine not to see it in any one place but with the presence of mind. to be wholly and impurely not that not this, without anywhere a trace of ultimacy in this world that we take for a sign, we are here we are here we are here and things are as they are not as they must be.
Nothing got here legally.
What's the expanding universe if not a refugee in its own country, somehow exiled from itself for reasons only it can express?
Citizen Universe
She should show me,
show me her true papers, her paintings
show me how we should dance on our own first Symphony
show me how i put our children to sleep
show me what her weep for, what her delight in, what her esteem, what her despise, what her ignore, what darkness of her, feeds that inferno of stars above her, burning its constellations like passports, that aren't going anywhere, show me the black mirror, that says you don't belong here, like some misplaced night of the full moon, not marked on any calendar
show me the law of being human in her life, that says this little poor thing, has one and this little poor thing, has none
show me where it's written; the guest shall turn strangers away from his host's generosity like a dog at the door that bares its teeth at the table
show me the home-made honey of her wisdom
show me the dead lamps, of the apocalyptic fireflies, that designed your chaotic cosmology by plagiarizing the light to prove the stars don't reserve a space in the universe, for any insight of her. Nothing got here legally.
No one followed a coyote or a law to cross the border into this insurgency of being. No one checked the colour of your eyes or profiled the light to see if they were fit for seeing.
You don't need a constitution to verify your liberty.
Well before you were born you were free and ever shall be to belong here as we all do.. to pursue what makes us
sad mad bad or happy
the way we all got here
the way we all get through
the way we're all alone here together with one another as we are with you,
as we are with her and him and me,
as we are with everything,
as we are with ourselves
when we don't know who we're becoming
when we don't know the stranger on the bridge watching the water flow that's waiting to greet us on the other side in the only way the unblighted heart of reality
we're all looking for like blood on a grail-quest for our humanity, accepts the darkness that seeks us out like a miraculous elixir of insight
so the kingdom won't fail
so the garden doesn't ask us for a green card to know and grow
in the only way we truly belong here
in the only way we know how to be
so the lifeboat we're all in .. like the same boundless mind, is always as full
as it is empty, so no one gets left out at sea
like a wave that couldn't be saved and no one gets in who doesn't know how to swim, the way we all got here .. and continue to be
all these thresholds of the sea that steps across us even as we move like waves
breaking discipline with our own continuum creatively.
Just to be there,
Just to crawl up on the shore of a new medium, like a refugee planting flowers
we brought from home hoping we'll still be there to watch them bloom.
i also accept the challange, but not to win or lose, in love both of the gamer will win, finally but not the End, i even do not know if the spring bloom attention was mine.
i'll never give up, even i can try until the last breath in my chest.
Hosp.. 3:00AM, under the bed blanket
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