I exist
a vector
impossible opposites
left and right
height and depth
darkness and brightness
unitary and shattered
shadow and body
unconverging.
An entire universe
on a speck of dust
lingering on a ray of sunshine,
gently falls
and finds its rest among the many
(the conformed
tangled aggregate)
finally settling into oblivescence
out of mind
and just yesterday,
was briefly remarkable.
Inexorably swayed
as he murmured a breath
of oblivion-
I am now
aimless
forgotten
on the other side
of space and time.
-Jesse Haydn
Jan 4, 2021
Jan 4, 2021 at 1:47 PM UTC
It still amazes me, when I hit the wall;
when the web of karma catches or keeps me
from tripping for something I caused or said or
did or didn’t or will or won’t do
feels
like it’s coming (((back))) to me.
You. Us.
On the phone, on hold
with cardholder services;
I am but one
finger of an Entire Universe
and I know the moment
is breathtaking.
I think I feel
anxiety in those moments because i have no religion; i feel separate
As the Universe Experiencing Itself
i lack an outlet of sufficient explanation
and i am scared of Myself; I Think.
Aging truly, my question is this: Is this increased?-
Or made less-
in time? The answer gets further and further
away the more i think about it, i think.
The further away It gets-
the more It gets to me.
-Jesse Haydn
Jan 4, 2021
Jan 4, 2021 at 1:39 PM UTC
“ABRACADABRA. By abracadabra we signify an infinite number of things.‘Tis the answer to What? and How? and Why? And Whence? and Whither?—a word whereby The Truth (with the comfort it brings) Is open to all who ***** in night, Crying for Wisdom’s holy light. Whether the word is a verb or a noun Is knowledge beyond my reach.”
The time for waking up has come;
every second of the day is the first
time I have opened my eyes and
arise from a deep sleep.
There is always a vibration that exists
in the stillness. The plants know it well.
The ancient and known is new;
it is spagyric and transmogrified.
We are, collectively, individual worlds
inside our own selves.
I am one and We are One-
one Nexus, one Soul, one Universe
existing now, together
inside of our own separate forms.
It is the precipice.
The moment is arriving for
what we know not; We know
the time is calescent-
the time is now and the time is coming.
The calling is urgent
and it is eternal.
The triangle rings music in my ears.
The time for waking up has come.
–Jesse Haydn
Jan 4, 2021
Jan 4, 2021 at 1:33 PM UTC
The weather shines.
The second day is the first
I opened my eyes out of time.
Get out of sleep.
There is always a vibration in
silence. The plants know
this well.
The old is new; the secret known.
Its is spagyric, transmogrified-
The collective individual worlds within
ourselves; I am one of you-
a nexus, a spirit, a universe now
together within our own models.
This is the depth.
Access immediately what
we did not know; we know
the time is calescent. Time
and time has come.
This is a small and urgent call.
It is eternal.
The music units are the segments
of my ears.
The time for waking up has come.
-Jesse Haydn
Jan 4, 2021
Jan 4, 2021 at 1:29 PM UTC
i used to have the feeling
that everything was trying to tell me
something; but everything does
if the timing is right
the right words won’t come
(i almost lost it)
the answer:
it is about you
it is both deep and
above you
in the smoke
the blooms
the tessellations
of the trees
(the sway)
once i saw the face of god
i could never look away
-Jesse Haydn
Jan 4, 2021
Jan 4, 2021 at 1:26 PM UTC
We are colored under the spirit
Not everyone is safe under the rain
We shine from the light like a heavy game
So bright that the evenings are hard and
dried up.
We create great electronic thoughts in the eyes of God
We are colored under the spirit
I caught a black dog in the smoke.
Jealousy is dead-
Hope for the afterlife
A hell's optimist.
I can not understand
An empty promise.
-Jesse Haydn
Jan 4, 2021
Jan 4, 2021 at 1:02 PM UTC
I wake up everyday and take pills and pills and pills
the insanity will go- I was promised
I don't think she has
I am tired today. I am tired everyday
The sense of awakening is lost
I can feel it in my aching bones
Pentetrating darkness
I am a stranger in my body
I cannot remember who I was
I can no longer smile
I don't go outside
I am always alone
I drink my coffee and meanwhile I can't help but keep
killing myself over and over and over
I love the feeling of fatality that fills my lungs
I am lost everywhere I go and I am shrinking quickly
I am missing out on everywhere and I am declining fast
Every day is one day closer to the darkness
(Shall I go to bed?)
And there are times when I can't look away from it
I don't feel anything anymore
How long can I dangle down here on a string?
Saying goodbye to broken promises
The madness is dying
But it is all wrapped up in me
Even the snowfall meant nothing this year
All alone and pondering
About whether ghosts are real
-Jesse Haydn
Jan 4, 2021
Jan 4, 2021 at 11:56 AM UTC
When you know ****
unfortunately
you know ****
When you snap that triangle-
they go everywhere.
A star died and gave birth to me,
Stars die every time a person is born.
It must be.
We do not yet understand the true nature of physics.
That is the point.
I am nothing special.
I am all.
This morning- it was unusual.
I walked to the left of the trees, not to the right.
I have never done that before.
I do this often.
Ooh La La is playing while you pump the gas.
Something invisible has struck me
like a gust of wind.
The moon is rising now, and I-
I am falling away.
-Jesse Haydn
Jan 4, 2021
Jan 4, 2021 at 9:48 AM UTC
I feel empty when you go.
Even cooking is lonely when you are not here. What’s the point?
How can I be an entire human being?
I blast music in my headphones-
When they scream-
I can still hear the silence
(I can’t drown it).
I miss you.
Please stay with me.
Please do not leave.
My anxiety hurts.
My hands are shaking as I write this, it’s almost unreadable, and the page is wet
And the words disappear a little.
I’m still cooking.
What do you do yourself when you’re done?
It hurts.
I want to cry.
I think I will.
-Jesse Haydn
Jan 4, 2021
Jan 4, 2021 at 9:37 AM UTC
I haven’t written to myself in god knows
how long so naturally it used to come;
that word now permanently stuck, hopelessly
affixed to the tip of my tongue-
a stranger to myself, my own thoughts, the words that won’t arrive.
I cannot understand.
Why? And to where? And when did I leave?
Simultaneously
I used to feel everything
but
I’d write myself again if only to come
to convince me that I
used to be alive.
My mother told me once that you are
what you write and what you read, but I haven’t yet found a book or a poem sufficiently large or deep or empty enough
to elicit, record, confess
all that I must purge.
Countless pages still untouched.
I still can’t find the words.
-Jesse Haydn
Jan 4, 2021
Jan 4, 2021 at 9:25 AM UTC