D Vanlandingham

Boundless..

In its ability to extend beyond all forms of containment;
the big circle contains within it, the little one
And if it is true relationship through genuine volition of the beloved
that is to be desired most of all,
then spirit, wrapped in flesh is the autonomy most needed
     in order for the dream to become true.
Spirit is being.
Spirit cloaked in flesh is being--
feeling its relationship with its own self.
Spirit, mastering its own flesh by reigning in  its emotions  along
with the synaptic-firing of every one of its nerve endings into full
submission of the spirit's own core nature, is the root-basis of all true volition.

Spirit, in its raw form is perfect-- wholly unable to undergo
corruption, or decay..
     but the flesh..
     the flesh,
     Always needing to substantiate itself through its never-ending layers
     of self-promotion  apart from the realities of its own spirit's  core.

Yet,  pure Love--
wholly unable to see itself as that which is to be rejected,
enters in to the very act of the rejection, itself;

..that autonomy may  continue to  contain
the uncorrupted core--
     and the smaller circle becomes established:
     smaller.. yes.. but in truth,
     its parameters self stretch all the way out
     to those of the bigger one

And so, with the necessary advent of autonomy
into the relational equation,    comes also
The necessary advent of God's wholly-volitional
self-depletion of God.. entering,  in to it all
so that, in time, God(Love) alone  might take the full brunt
of rejection's unjust hit--
     in its autonomous movement  away
     from its own incorruptible core..
     away,  from its own true self.

So, follow the smaller circle, if you will, my beautiful--
either way, you are still following God.

I'm sorry I can't help it.
I fall too fast,
Too scared of rejection.
I wish I knew how to control my feelings about her.
My mind is racing,
Not knowing what will come next.
I'm fine, just being friends.
Tell me you won't leave.

Oh I still remember, my 1st day, I was new,
saw a girl, curly hair, beautiful smile and gleaming eyes like dew
Didn't care much then, didn't even know her name
but was she Ordinary ? oh no lord! she was the flame

Then in December, one Thursday noon
Are you hungry, she asked me by the pool
Through your eyes, got the galaxy's view
Fell so badly girl, yikes! how did you?

Three months said bye,
Loved you every second that went by,
On one day which I thought was divine,
t'was midnight March, the deepest secret of mine,
I have a crush on you, god I lied
Then Good night bro.. so I cried

A small virus, threatened humanity
We got so close, just my insanity
Finally got what I wanted, I thought
so should I ask her again , why not

So In the month of poems, I did
tried to hold back tears, they slid
true that, My fault all along
Thought I was the one, that you belonged

Her heart beats for another,
got to know, through my brother
Oh dear god, what was my sin,
Out of 7 billion hearts in kin
Whyyy, whyyy did my heart, beat
for a heart, that didn't beat for me

Three years ago, I signed up for the army,
I trained hard every single day just like Rocky,
Whilst i was waiting for them to get back to me.

But when they looked up my medical history,
They were forced to reject me, unfortunately,
Because I suffer from iron deficiency.

Perhaps if i was not born with this diffculty,
I'd most likely  be serving this great country.

“Bang!” one word in the novel
It killed the man
“Sorry.” one word uttered
The man killed me

If I fall down a rabbit hole,
once or twice,
is it deliberate, or a mistake?
Am I being too nice?

I peer over the edge,
and throw my feelings down asunder;
hope it floods the rabbit hole,
as clouds rumble with thunder.

But it floats to the top,
and now, I have my own wishing well,
with bunny carcasses, snakes, egg shells,
oh well.

Empty it, bucket by bucket;
burry each skeleton in a bed of flowers,
until there is no evidence
of the feelings that I cower.

And rumble, comes the next thunder,
before I even wake.
I've stumbled down the rabbit hole
again, it floods the gate.

Ever since I was a little child, I always wondered what it would feel like to be an ant. A little teeny-weeny tiny ant. Wandering around in this gigantic world. Following the sugary smell of life, yet all they find are scraps. Collecting all there is from it for their families, and no matter how small the food seemed to us humans, it would always be HUGE for them to carry.

Later on, I grew a bit older, and I started to think, how did the first ant that was ever killed feel like? to be stepped on by a huge giant foot, and without it even realizing that it had stepped on an ant.

How strange it is that such a critter can carry 50 times its own bodyweight, yet can be killed so abruptly.

Would it feel anything? Or would it simply just die? Would her family and friends even realize that it’s dead? Does it even have friends and family and little ants that cared about it?

I wasn’t really sure about the answer, but I always wondered about it.

And then it hit me, or should I say smashed me. That same giant foot I was talking about. No not only did it smash me, but it squished me, squished me hard enough, that I became nothing but a…? I guess I became nothing.

Since then, I knew exactly what the answer was. To be a little tiny creature smashed to the ground. Nobody noticed. Nobody cared. Or did they?