My home is the axis.
I am everywhere at once
but still I am lost.
I can show you the world
but you will experience nothing.
Sometimes I worry that I will be forgotten
as I am simply a starting point
for greater things ahead.
I wish I could travel in another direction.
These circles are tiring.
I radiate knowledge from my plump pot-belly,
I know far less than you.
I accommodate the whole world,
but my shell still fits in your hands.
I lodge the scorching swelter of the deserts,
but I only feel warmth between your palms.
I breathe the icy air of Antarctica,
but the only snow that bothers me
is the grey blanket that sits on my surfaces
when you are gone for a while.
My home is simply the axis.
I wander all the places
but still I am no where to be found.
Mystic knowledge, strangely exhilarated my very essence,
providing a sense of strength to depart from this life I know
and where I know those. Where at least myself, I know for
sure, I lived in resentment and disappointment. In silence
I leave, refusing to yield to what society wants
I was walking down a hallway, when a head rush overtook me. blindly ambling forward, the walls, floor, and ceiling lurched in on me.
I was struck by the absurd notion that human beings must be enclosed within these confined spaces. it parallels the idea of the lines, spaces, and boxes that society draws upon and around us that we must remain in.
man is not free.
yet this contradicts the statement made by Jean Paul Sartre, explaining that “man is condemned to be free.” how can this be? we attempt to free our minds, and yet we remain in the enclosures we physically and mentally draw around ourselves.
the walls seemed like they were closing in, and it reminded me terribly of a time that I knew I was losing my mind.
the concept of space and the universe was slipping away from me; before becoming vastly distorted, lacking all meaning. it was like slipping away into the infinite black abyss once more.
all of these thoughts and feelings rushed over me at once: some verbal, most instinctual. unspoken. primitive, as if this knowledge lived within us, residing in our bones since the dawn of mankind.
the entire experience lasted approximately four seconds. it made me nostalgic yet nauseous to remember that I once to lived my entire life in this state.
Knowledge is power
And is as beautiful as the sea,
And in a few hours
You can learn your abc's,
In an ocean full of treasure
Not everyone finds the key
Only ones that possess a book
Has the key to climbing a successful tree,
Books are an enlightenment
More powerful than any weapon,
They enlighten the soul
And open the gates to heaven,
The best adventures found
Are locked in various books
Where the letters form words
And doors finally unhook.
No-one is truly ready for love.
Unexpected events, in meaning.
Whirling and overwhelming feelings,
to which I can feel, as for her, she
created and tame, by touching
my deepest parts of thy soul.
And surprised when she came to
my presence as she brought,
contentment into my life. Taking
the courage, into the abyss
and bliss. As for every star in
the sky. There’s someone
in love. As for every beauty
noticed. A woman had smiled.
Deeper the love, closer to illumination,
the depth of poetry, the harder
the heartbreaks. To put fear into
a man, let him love. To have meaning
in life, let her be loved.
I think the Earth or this life, has no
Inherent goodness. Maybe it’s all
up to the individual to contribute,
no-matter how little or how much.
But it’s all timely when the sun’s
rays spark through as we remember
in terms of nostalgia, how important
it is to romance under moonlight.
And we all yearn to be loved during
times of courting lover. But it is
no poet's intent to advance humanity,
maybe just to speak the minds.
Even if all the poets embellish in
romance, lush live’s - holding hands.
It’s blasphemy in its actions, but sugar-sweetness
to its appearance. Most call it life, now I have a new
name for it. War. Wrestling for a softer moods towards
life. Development of character will not come any other
way, the duration of it, a luxury. And dying is the only
way to remove one’s past, whoever said the struggle
will stop today? Rare is the one makes the effort, holy
are the ones who turnover to a life called musings to
living souls as a result of their actions. But one on fire, the Heavens open and glare down over Earth. Do not
hold back, go into them when you see them.