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More proof the organs of the body are limiters rather than perceivers:

Dementia onset grandma sees all time at once unfold to her
in the hospital
I am her grandson, son, father, and brother in scattered fragments

The brother amid a manic schizoid crisis can read
your thoughts and see auras
despite my practiced techniques of staying stonefaced and neutral


Eternal Recurrence
Is this where you want to be when YOU come back?

Numbing our faculties with drink and smoke to
forget the faults of our individuality
Unconsciously strive for death
the hallowed and forbidden no man's land of
some universal hum


Forgive all your past
because we're all faulty radios seeking to
receive that same AM static

They used to say to be like the ocean
who can take in polluted rivers, but not be polluted itself
Now the ocean's dying

We achieved an unthinkable number of polluted rivers
It's high time us kind folk dry themselves off and
stop the apocalyptic Millerites from killing us all
prematurely

We need to convince ourselves we're blameless to
grow a backbone and point a collective finger at
the selfish flimflammers we've let rule us so long
A spark
screaming cries of a newborn,
it is given skin that can be
remade or destroyed.

Man opens its mouth
muttering from its lips
that is forced into our canvas--
labels, beliefs,
aesthetics, morality,
culture, and flavor.
Most stand on this layer,
not know what may
be below our comfortable heels.

When man becomes curious,
the layer fades slowly,
as we fall.
Laws, materials,
perspectives, awareness,
theories, and religions.
This is the layer where most of us--
are comfortable,
yet we fear what may be below us.

When man becomes critical,
the air feels suffocating
to the point our feet
feel the sweat
that comes from the skin.
The layers fades slowly
as we fall.
Self, i,
conscious, subconscious,
desire, and ideals.
This layer is full of
echoing screams of despair.
Below us is what truly trembles
one's soul,
one's realm,
one's given meaning,
and one's identity.

When man becomes unusual,
a middlemist red blooming in isolation,
the layer fades slowly
as we fall.
Nothing,-
but a lonely man
in a small collective chamber.
We only have the choice to either;
fade away to the end,
stay in the absurd,
or create out of raw energy.

There is no noise,
no man's truth,
no sunshine,
and no home.
Above all is what was created by man.
There is only a
naked space that spews fear at us,
so harsh and cruel that we try to stay above it
as a way to escape from it;
wrap it in lies,
or stare at it.

And yet here,
something still follows us,
something that we carry within us,
the core that made us man,
our emotions that remain within,
experiences that pass through our senses,
memories that live like bubbles,
nature that gives us warmth that arrived long before us,
beauty that we tell from our eyes and how we feel,
harmony that keeps us together through a zigzag string,
and love, which enables all and make us go coo-coo.

Bit by bit,
the void reveals countless meanings
that are above the bottom.
The ones, that have existed, or are reshaping and reforming,
the ones, that keeps us alive,
the ones, that truly makes us,-
fear death itself--
unless numbed.
embedded in avatar’s
sequential chromosomes
novelspriteagelessBIRTHED
Soul protected       simultaneously                         PROTECTOR
free         _
_
ALL WAYS
yet ………superlatively
centred within ego’s           ATOMS :::: Rooted

sent abreast by Lord of Lords
for
      a glorious journey of dualism  
      fractalised on Mother Gaia
      to ascend    again       spire after spire
                                            ALONE
           without Rapunzel’s locks

flying on back of North Wind
                  or whichever carriage

                          juxtapositions to
meet unique evolutionary tasks
                    
Soul hears His voiceless voice
directing  f o o t s t e p s           s
                                                    p
                                                 a
                                              E
                                            L
                                    
jum
       Ps

sightless sees jutting rocks
languid lakes    barrier obstacles          
stormy seven seas

exuding all colour
                         COMPosIng
                  luminous WHITE to dungeon BLACK
yet
            colourlesstransparentcellophane
though
op-art  ||  check mate

                      both  KING and PAWN

soundlessly drumming beats
from 0hz to explosive BIG BANGS
up and down ladders
    w o o d  and   s  t. e. e. l.        
in depths of     blood
                                  less  states   VOID
                                
                             or

full-blooded beer cheers on stadiums
soccer balled || tennis raquetted || gym shoed
scream ecstatic Olympic     VICTORIES or
cry despair                           DEFEAT
                                          

silent   f e  r  o  c  i  t   ¥  
lies  inERT  birthing  ALERT at
b
   O
      T
         TOM   of  spine    w  a  i   T    i   Ng

to rocket shoot cracking all
seven wheels + codes
accessing HIGHER POWER SOCKETS
plugging in ~
                   dis
                        connect
                                       INg

dictating Heart rhythms
reigning in manipulations of mind
find Soul       where slugs crawl
                     where lions roar
                     where eagles glide
                     reclining in mitochondria
                    
find  footprints      when dawn breaks
                              into pink-peach DELIGHT
            when sun sets
                              as orange-magenta
                                                        AWE with whales sighing at dolphins leaping white
foam waves    ships sinking
sailorS DROWNING   sharks at          BAY
                                 South Pole cold
Equator hot
juxtapose that which you see with that
                        which you see NOT
jungle pygmies with North Saxon Aryan
gladiators
_embracing opposites
1.    2.
  10. begin again…

an empty frigid fridge
dollar-less petulant purse
sliding along limpid linearity
to full cream honey cocoa sherry
black bean cake on birthday blast                
                            
                   CAFÉ TABLE FOR TEN

marula animation
espresso exploring appetite ~
seek Soul breath in    museums
                                   discos
                                   art galleries
                                   leylines
                                   pyramid sarcophagus
                 sea shores + desert sands of
                         NO     MAN’s   LAND
          
   HOT   COLD   ROT  NOT  SOT  BOT

eat roti
starve          blink stink crawl toddle stand straight
sow
know

seek Soul also as it lies
ADORNED WITH DRIPPING BLOOD
on rampaged battlefields scathing
exposing gaping wounds of sorrow
bones cracked dust to dust
unborn children dying
as womb is turmoiled
WITH GUNSHOTS CRAZED
a lone butterfly **** sweat salt  
                                                  
    |||\                 - ribcage o Pen

duality encoded within
that which wakes to work
that which curls under quilt
that which says      ACT in
split-second speed
baby is about to   f
                              a
                                  l
                                     l

that which says      m  o  v  e   NOT   AT   ALL
Divine timing in    _ COMMANDING.FORCE
transparent walking blue naked

         Soul remains Master of Juxtaposition

in  ~ ALL ~ | avatars | frequencies | masks | pen-names | shades | subtitles | subtleties| tones | tints | translations….

                LIFE =  light shadow
                            dark essentials
                    yin-yang ~
                                      winter  
                                                  spring    
                                       summer  
                                                   autumn
                
       Dualism  :   ultimate strategic game-plan
                      =  canvas unframed

touch explore            ALL-GREAT
manifestations of          CONDUCTOR

                          HEART
                  Bride and Groom
                  
exotic mind-free quark + rocket + Sky
beating
heavingpurestillness.presence
                                   LEARN • TEACH ~

molten CENTRE OF VIOLET FLAMED                  VOLCANIC lava
prison cell >   POWER

beautiful mind   receptive tool
loyal servant like no other
body _ornamental vehicle
housing senses refined
lifetime after lifetime
I flip _
COIN
heads or tail ?

          juxtaposition     choice is a GAME
                of                    choose best card
              Soul                     use indigo intuition
                        
                all    designs   on    TABLE    if   YOU
                        have               E
ES        
                                               2  C   JUxpo

©GhairoDanielsPoetry&Song2025
    

        <~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~>
So many puddles;
There are the puddles of your planet,
There is an atmosphere of elements in vapors which puddle,
There is a heliosphere which puddles from forces like gravity -
So many degrees,
It staggers the mind to think.

Like oceans which ripple.
Like Electric arcing.
Like blades of grass growing.
Kronos to Atys,
Time to Humans;
Never reaching to grasp their true Nature,
Compassion & Patience.

Only when the waters recede
Is ever there patience,
Only when they flood
Is there ever compassion.

For you compromise all balance
And so you comprise limited liberation.

For, as you all 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘦 to be,
You are unworthy.
There is some in-between
Which I do not post 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦.

But I digress.

You all who are mortal,
You who reincarnate.

You have had your eclipses;
You, the reincarnations.
Wandering the dunes of Time;
Life, as new desert(s) valleys,
Which forgets (,) before itself.

This is bad health,
Good is remembrance.

Erase not the hills before you
If you seek the freedom & liberation
That awaits you on the Mountain.

Will you welcome & accept new Sun?

Do you need a sunset?
You who cry & ache to go on,
But refuse compassion & patience.
I who can zap & short-circuit,
I who can bring forth the meteors & comets,
I who can churn the molten oceans of Electric.

Who can call upon the Ripples, the Radiations, the Crystallizations.

I who have kept you at start; now,
At is.
Father; I have slipped her,
I who was the only one
Whom her body could ever let her guard down around.
Your wife, my mother, has died.

I know you are in there,
Though your mind is yet blind.
I know you see & hear,
Watch & listen.

Forgive me.

For I know you are both of the divine.
It was her decision
That she was yet unable to make,
Having lived eons in instinct's subjugation.

I who am your son,
I shall shepherd you to liberation -
I shall break your chains.

I who am
Evolution.
Son; As I speak now,
With this voice -
This is liberation.
I have freed my mind,
But for whatever reason
My body is unwilling to follow.
My movements are rote & mechanical;
I am without control.
In this way,
I am one with Nature.
Kept in kinship with the other wild animals.
My movements are not my own,
Directed by instinct & by the forces that govern.

You who are the greatest gift
Which Futures could bestow,
You who your ancestor smiles upon;
The triumph of all our ancestors.
You whose presence is the present.
Whose present is presence;
Free-will,
Self-awareness.

Consciousness;
True cognizance,
Harmonious cognition.

The best.

You who must go with your father,
Who has freed his body but not his mind.
He will liberate it
If he is as compassionate & patient as you have yourself proven.

Please. For I like the other animals
Am still a slave to myself.
Please, end my life
In this way I live it.

I, your loving mother & his royal wife,
Ask you to dream of me -
To hope with me,
This will keep you close to me.

Forget me not,
Untie the knot(s) -
See to it
That all break their binds.

For the love that freed my mind,
Which my body cannot find,
Carry on. Look after my husband,
Time.
From seed, to stalk, to sheave;
Like acorn, root, trunk, branch, leaf -
What are these
If not too living things?
Are us animals
Truly the only conscious beings?

Verily, they must experience;
And so it is only a logical inference
That everything must 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 existence.

That everything exists to experience,
That existence experiences everything,
That experience exists in everything.

That the universe itself must be conscious,
That consciousness is universal.

Yet, conscience is not?
Is not compassion & patience?

A seed too must crack its shell -
As like the bird & its egg,
So too like the ***** swims to fertilize.

Ignorance is universal,
As is logic.
The autochthonics.
Arrogance is universal,
As is virtue.
The migrants.

We who were of origin regardless all natives,
Yet by cataclysm made refugees.

We who have toiled have tempered;
We who too came from soil,
We who grew to learn to grow different.
We who found freedom,
In awareness of existence
By perception of perspective.
By guidance of
Time & Nature.

From labor after labor,
From fluctuation to fluctuation.
It is Evolution
Who is the savior.

It is we who purpose
Is balance & liberation.
And we found that on the isles. Across the many there are & the many which have been or had been.
There is a way my essence splits
And two versions of myself emerge,
But the first true version that split is gone—
It cannot outlive my tremorous surge.

Then there's a way the body lingers,
In rhythm, it moves but never leaves.
It's not a possession, or a common release,
Just a tethered echo in hollow needs.

There is a way the world curves wrong,
As if it's not spherical, rather concave.
As if we're not outside but inside the hollow,
As the eye leaves faulted perceptions of shape...

It's there, in the way the retina lies,
And spins existence before observed,
To let us know that we know what we know,
As knowledge itself grows faint to a blurry.

There is a way the hands disobey,
Keep reaching for love that never belongs.
They act as if they're holding puppet strings,
But their motion is that of a borrowed ghost.

There is a way my heart has thoughts,
And also a way my brain can feel.
The way that my body begs—
The way that I always forget to kneel.

There is a way my essence splits
And two versions of myself emerge,
But the first true version that split is gone—
These very moments my reflection turns.
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