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I've been the fish,
I've swum the dream.
I've been the explorer,
The King, the Queen.
I've been the slave,
I've waded the stream.
I've been the dust,
I've been the ash,
And I've been everything in between.

There will come a life when this is seen for what it is,
When one simplifies their deeds
And no misgivings will give,
When one realizes the Grand Illusion
In which they have lived,
When one pours forth their infinite essence
And filters the impurities through the sieve.

One must transform their leaden clang
Into a Golden Resound.
Until this goal is clear,
We're all just ******* around.
*
Alexander J. Ziatyk
Underneath this yellow dwarf,
We are dwarfed
By its magnitude,
But mostly by our attitude
Towards it.
It can swallow us ten thousand times
And still be hungry,

Yet we are suspended from it
By a gossamer thread.
Goldie Locks,
Between scorching obliteration by pure light
And the deathly cold emptiness of the void;
Thus are the ingredients for sentience.

What luck!
What coincidence!

My feet pad the earth,
My wings cut the air,
My gills breathe the water,
My eyes are enraptured by the dance of flame,
And my mind moves all for the Unnamed.
Untamed by Chaos,
Tamed by Will.

We are living, singing sunlight.
From dust to rock,
From rock to plant,
From plant to animal,
We are.
The knowledge burned up,
The wisdom became chastised,
The secrets fall on deaf ears
And are hidden from mine eyes.

The wanton flames of Caesar’s fleet
Swallowed the Library.
The outraged mob
Raged out the Serapeum.
Politics as usual.
Swallowing faith by the spoonful.

I shed a tear
For the sweet Hypatia,
Long gone
But never forgotten,
Mourned on
But teachings begotten.

The elliptical paths
Of the Wanderers
Buried at the hands
Of the Squanderers.
Such imperfect shapes
In God’s creation,
The audacity of defying
The circular relation;
A reflection of humans
And our imperfect gestation.

Now here I stand
At the bleeding edge of the future,
Prometheus in mind
While Epimetheus is crucial.
A gift for mankind
For Nature’s love to be fruitful.

Pandora’s Box
Unleashed Hell on our plane.
What’s needed is a delicate touch
To clean the mess that was made.
But where do I turn
With ancient tomes rent asunder?
Such foundation destroyed
In the name of faith, pillage, and plunder.

My mind reels in itself,
Eyes wide full of wonder,
My full heart pours forth
But empty promises do flounder.
There’s a new world to be built,
An age of peace yet to flourish,
But our banks of wisdom dried up
Like the last drop of milk in the cat dish.

But with a powerful intuition,
I find the knowledge and euphoria;
I turn my mind within and read
The Lost Scrolls of Alexandria.
Spirit sleeps in the stone,
Awakens in the animal, and
Dreams in the plant.
Inside of every seed
Lies the blueprints for
A blooming tree
That, once born into the air,
Will dream its wild dream.

I sit at the base of an ash,
Its roots move around the rocks,
Rarely do they clash.
The spark behind this choice
Is the same spark in me;
Intelligence born from discord
To create harmony.

The dormant seed is the lead
Of the alchemist’s soul,
With attention, love and care
It will transform into gold.
A vibrant being that fruits,
Abundance of energy abounds
To fill the stomachs of beasts
And let happiness resound.
For an empty tummy begets a selfish mind
And this weary old world of ours
Is running short on time.
What better way is there
To lay aside our differences
Then by feeding one another,
Sharing with our brother,
And nurturing our Mother
So that the Mother
May nurture us.

It’s time to join the Omnibus,
The infinite works of the Universe,
To respect plants as the Earth’s lungs
And we humans as the nervous system.
The Earth is just a person
Rolled up into a ball,
Not be controlled by few
But to be shared by all.
If your kidneys cut down the alveoli
In the forest of your lungs
So they could build a city,
It wouldn’t be long before you were gone.

With Spirit awake in us,
We must take care of our Dreamers.
Mine is not a generation of the greedy,
We are the world’s cleaners.
You know, you can’t really
See what you see,
Hear what you hear,
Taste what you taste,
Or feel what you feel.

You’re relying on lightning
Generated by nerve endings,
Through your spine’s cable
It’s sending
An encoded message:
Translation pending.
At the end of the line,
Your brain picks up the horn,

“What do I do with all this noise?
Perhaps I’ll give it form.
A pleasant odor here,
A river over there,
A rain cloud in the sky,
Maybe something pulls your hair!
Oh what fun it is to gather
All this vibratory chatter
And change it to solid splatter!
Creating a world from pitter patter.
If my trick is found out,
It surely will not matter.
I’m just a human brain,
The universal Mad Hatter!”

While your brain conducts this orchestra,
The real symphony is underneath.
If the world were made of music,
Would you die of disbelief?
Your electricity is unreliable,
Your brain just a go-between.
If you tune your mind and listen,
You can hear Creation sing.
I open my lungs
Wider and wider
As the sun-warmed air
Fans my inner fire.

We ignite in celebration
The incensed funeral pyre
So that we may become greater
Than our past’s failed desire.
Oh, it burns and burns
The fragrant bones of the dead,
Then rains down like feathers,
Ash upon our heads.

Amidst the rising smoke
Our eyes behold a figure,
A paragon with spreading wings.
We’ve not one moment to linger.

We empty our lungs
And dive toward the flames,
Some sacrifices burned alive,
But not burned in vain.

The rest of us breathe deep
Of the smoke imbued with light,
Filling our lungs to the bursting point
With this glorious Phoenix Flight.

Some stagger, some cough
As old minds are cast off,
They are dissolved in purifying plumes,
The world is now seen
In more beautiful hues.

The flames now dim to luminous coals
That flicker like stars
As the winds begin to roll.
We catch each other’s eyes,
Some gaze into the skies.
A feeling unspoken
But in each of us resides,
A shared dream of the future,
Evolution by and by.
Blinded by illusion,
I am inundated by the Many.
To rise above delusion,
I seek a former clarity.

There’s fire in my being,
Also water, earth and air reside.
This quintessence I am now seeing,
No longer from me can it hide.

I found a light that shines within,
No different from the one without.
The sun above will breathe its life
While spirits below remove all doubt.

With senses five I sense the earth,
But delude me not, I know my worth.
My sense is one, I sense the All
On my demand. I beck and call.

I will not sit idle,
Nor wait for God to speak.
I will raise my inner voice,
And His interest I shall pique.
He does not want slaves
Bowing down on bended knees.
He awaits an equal,
And for this I hold the keys.
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