Does each of us see the universe from our own perspective? If so, does each of us live in our own perspective-universe? If so, is objectivity impossible and only subjectivity happening? If so, to achieve a cooperative society does each of us have to empathise with each other's unique perspective-universe?
The stars are always in disarray But at the mere thought of you they sashay Before you twinkling and mingling in collective merriment. How you whip up this loyal admiration is a fascination as ancient As yesterday’s headlines. The sun wondrously In isolation marvels at your brilliance that clearly Manifests as your countenance. You thrive On immortality’s soul as each nerve On your body is as ageless as the sun. You’re full of cheer and so much fun. Yours is an incomparable beauty My lovely and charming cutie. A celestial masterpiece you are Your eccentricity spreading wide and far.
Whenever one lays their eyes upon us, What is perceived is something that exists Only at the peripheries of their mind, while Things that makes us, us, are the opposite.
One would gasp in awe at someone's beauty, Shiver in excitement about their courage and might, Imagine countless friends and lovers they have; How success is their husband and joy is their wife.
Surely, for them, talent blossoms like a flowers, And everyone knows when and why they laugh, and joins; And if they ever cry(why would they at all?), More than one soothing arm awaits their call.
While what is unseen lurks beneath beholder's delusions, Who wants to see what one envies most and searches for In oneself in vain. As how they see us is the opposite of us, true, but the opposite of themselves at the time as well.
I lay here waiting in my skin for the tearing of the membrane that seperates this world from the next one and I let myself get carried along by a fresh stream of reasoning until I flare up in the dark like a new species of amoeba
this balancing and spinning around on an atom and just not falling off it becomes boring at times and maybe because of that sporules once landed here to grant us the possibility of another possibility
I lay here waiting and I manage not to drown just like only an almost newborn baby can and being born in 1983 means nothing here in the swelling infinity of the abnormal
my skin has been waiting for new atmospheres for decades and the touch of unknown forms makes me shudder with raw impervious happiness because invisible energy effervesces alongside my arms and the eyes in my skull could be anyone’s right now
suddenly the waiting is forgotten and I wallow myself in the gathered fairy tales of every soul that preceded me carelessly astonished and uncapable of understanding the seriousness of this absurd life
inside me irrational poetry dances like a tribe jumping around a bonfire
outside the universe dances her own eternity round and round