Ruminating epoché,
‘I am…’ ‘Or am I’? Who can say?
‘A posteriori’ leads the way
For the extra and the ordinary
Axiomatic sway
In the gravity of corollary,
‘A priori’ interplay.
Ataraxic overlay of anxious automation,
As the innocence of dissonance delay
Initiatives imperative consolidation,
Civilly disobedient in expedient disarray.
Practicing semantic contemplation,
Filling nihilistic voids with particles in waves,
Forecast in vague extrapolation,
To interpret dreams of Freud to free Oedipus’s slaves,
A degreeless scholastic who never misbehaves,
Simulated humanoid dramatic in the affect that he craves,
Inflating the linguistics of silent enclaves,
A thespian who plans conation with legacy engraves.
Probabilistic determiner of cosmogenous debates,
The Apperceived inquirer of qualitative states,
Inspiring proprietor of dismality abates.
Challenging Aporia as epistemic oscillates,
Stoically, heroically, ‘one’ who amalgamates,
Circling the infinite in hermeneutic calibrates.

An enigmatic world that spins;
Setting hands around the clock,
Wearing down the wrinkled grins,
An ark set sail to never dock.
Wandering the tameless dark,
Sifting facts from all delusion,
Passing by without remark,
The woeful tale of our seclusion.
Until a streak of light from Heavens staff
Tears dark asunder in the night,
And thunder bellows a boisterous laugh,
To startle calm who runs in fright.
Until Cosmic fields of desolation
Stand by in full reproach,
Of long awaited consolation,
To seed the change upon approach.
For when moisture in the air hangs heavy
From eastern winds of natures plow,
And besieging waters breach the levee
As day comes forth by times avow,
Burdens will lift with morning's rise,
Presenting with a mustered grace,
After fallen tears dried the eyes,
To wash out fears without a trace.
The blue above, the bird that flies,
Warmth from the sun in full embrace,
The barrage of green as flora thrives,
Leaves me proud to be of this Earthly place.

When you look, what is it that you see? I don't think you see what I do, yet you might try and tell me that it is so, but the way you read the signs is so blind to the splendor, the extravagance of what is there. I find no evidence you see what I see. Soon my luminous world grows dark as the shadows of yours seek to ground what should be in flight, make cynical of all potential light. Why must the world be cast into black and white when there is so much color?
You think it safe to bind yourself within the safety of your rules,
afraid to venture out,
step outside the here and now,
outside this room, this building, this city, this country.
Within this world erase the boundaries, erase the lines,
and realize what lives sure enough dies. That's what makes it so beautiful, aporia In attoraxic duress, we are merely consciousness, outside the blood and the flesh, outside the vessel. For the universe needed something, so now, I observe it, someone had to take notice. Thus, it was given to us to take it and shape it, make it the wonderful place in which we think we can only imagine. Imagine how if we tried to see the potential, the possibilities, released the hate, the anger, the cynicism. We limit ourselves but I don't want to feel the constraints anymore, I'm ready to be, I'm ready to exist, to flourish, to find beauty in simplicity, to imagine, to create, to wonder, to let go of the urge to know and to embrace the infinite possibilities.

How to guess in spirit guide?
Transcend the flesh and human pride,
A thought to bless and worlds abide,
The vortex of the frequent tide,
In the Empty hex of vacuums glide
Reflexive busts and booms to ride,
Protects, trusts, assumes inside,
As steady states swing side to side,
Flux in rates were left aside,
Beyond where long run deltas hide,
Stochastic oracles derived
Visions of new ways to thrive,
Not contained in quo's and bounds so tried
Where fears of unknowns have died.

When I wake, and when I dream,
A weary heart, a moonlit beam,
Meet in silver waters gleam,
And float along the river stream.

A shooting star in darkened days,
Streaks the sky, turns my gaze,
The heavens in a moments praise
Release me from my doldrum daze.

Unchained chimes, of life they sing,
To silence my despondency,
As brazen bells in phantom swing,
Set my wounded shadow free.

For blackened skies of prolonged nights,
See to the rise of morning lights,
Dried eyes when tears had blurred their sights,
Apprise my souls potential heights.

For when I wake and in my dreams...
I thought it fake--although it seems,
I cannot dull what brightly beams,
A troubled past more time redeems.

Oh, how nice it would be
To live supple minded fantasy,
Where subtle signals from the skies
Augment virtues of humanity;
To look upon the Gods and see
They've--relinquished all morbidity,
And as the evil within us dies
So too, the epic of tragedy.