Think it a wound
That has been cut open,
All of this
Pouring out of some person.
As blood like ichor.
Of Uranus a pouch, a receptacle, a quiver;
Time in consumption,
Like an arrow autochthonic
In the breast of existence.
Nursing the young.
Of Cronus a reflection, a refection, a ripple;
Time in digestion,
Like an innominate derivation
From the navel of continuance.
Bringing them up.
Of Zeus a reverberation, a spark, a sliver;
Time in expression,
Like an aborted secret
From the honey of speleothemas.
Shaping them out.
Of Apollo a radiance, a ray, a participle;
Time in extension,
Like an auspicious countenance
From the mucilage of angiospermae.
Birthing the echo.

I wanted it so badly
I needed it within my reach
but you knew that already, didn't you?
the glory of knowledge
the power of wisdom in its truest form
the answers of what intelligence can uphold
this is what thrived me
but that feeling soon passed away
and went directly to you instead
with open arms you embraced it
you let it take control
while I watched in the side lines
this type of curiosity was consuming you
but you knew that already, didn't you?

~
Unusual and cloudless

This slippery world

Today is still contagious

Here is heat, here is rain

Here is love, regardless

Shadows in the scaffolding

Look like a broken alphabet

The sun in its anger

Just won't set

Life and how to do it

Perfectly absent
~

We can't know them
By their religion.
Too much hypocrisy.

We can't know them
By politics.  
It's ever-changing... or not.

We can't know them
By country.
Zillions emigrate and immigrate.

We can't know them
By their clothes.
Emperor or not.

We can't know them
By their words.
Too many equivicators.

We can't know them
By their jobs.
At home or away.

We can't know them
By their family.
Nuclear or extended.

We can't know them
By their deeds.
They say one thing, and do another.

But look to  the roadside.
In the ditches.
By the curb.
In the bins.

Ye shall know them by their garbage.

My tongue's not my own neither the deepest longings
And neither these for pursuit nor grasping but to know
Of promises unknowable in the flesh but will be
For which given only glimpses of their shadows
And to know that before Time and for all times
Not futility as seeming for the Teacher is present
And so too the end's the beginning and vice versa
But to hear the Voice for in the dark the ears see

the greatest source of
knowledge ever ignorance

Is it easier

to acquire knowledge than to --


do away with it?

The walls of the mind
Are sacred from birth

For it can only hold
Holy words of the heart

No other words
On these walls
Hold true

Yet I have gifted all
A space to write
On these sacred walls

Insanity has become
The outcome
From every pen
Honored a space to write

I still
Naively proclaim to be free
While I fight a war
On the battlefield
Created inside
The most sacred place

An indoctrinated mind
It has now become

Hijacked by dividing pens
Not knowing
These holy walls
Were only created to be

Written upon by the
Pen of the soul

- By NwK