Me, myself, and I
Life is like the sun
It goes up and down and around
and bad days
I trust myself and know my place
Outside of society
as it is a danger to all
I must think for myself
and not conform as they do
The world’s opinion is not my own
And thus need not be acknowledged
Like Galileo and Newton
I am misunderstood
but I know who I am
Fortune is my friend
and is with me
but I am all I need
This is a section of a poem I made last year for my IOP and it's based on a transcendentalist essay! Hope you enjoy!
I want to love all life on Earth fully and uncontrollably,
Without conditions or constraint, without aiming to sate the ego.
I will learn to give my body to the soil, to feed the flowers, the trees,
The creatures that slither and sneak and swim at all depths.
These bones, these joints and muscles, this flesh, these,
Which have sweat and stretched and soaked in warm love,
Now ache to return to the earth.
Caterpillars on my bones
Sealed in my skin
Cocoons growing on my ribs
Where heartbeats should have been
Unraveled silk slides down my lung
Look! The moths are free
They dive, wings lost in foamy waves
They settle in the deep
A hole the size of galaxies
Fragments left in me
Mothlings on the ocean floor
Quiet, strands of sinning
Cling to me, long and thin
But better pieces of myself
Escaped as earth's new skin
I'm buried deep within it
I feel worms on my bones
Cocoon pieces become dust
But my heart: a smooth sea-stone
All criticism is welcome! I'm definitely looking to improve.
Soul, trascendental tether to infinity
Voice of instincts & individuality
Ever will I endeaver to reflect this inner self in my personality
Allow this abstract apparition to cast its ambitions through my identity
We all begin with the same block of stone, family carving away deliberately, often in fits of spontaneity
Every person we touch takes a piece away and impacts our reality.
Now we're old enough to carve our souls into actuality
Its been within me since my infancy still I struggle to perpetuate its conceptuality
On occasions when I can summon its voice to my lips its gone just as quickly & I mourn for the brevity
All I'm left with in my renderings is a fragile, frugal effigy -how could a mortal hope to attain the likeness of divinity?
I am the dog, collared and chained,
deemed useless and left alone.
I am the nail in the wall left unhammered, jutting to snag at your sleeve.
I am the hole in your line through which all of your energy will be filtered or lost.
I am heavy with meaning and weightless with meaning and grounded in someone else's reality.
I am that reality, while my own remains silent and hidden and threatening.
I am a threat to some, no one to someone, and everything to one.
I am the card in play, always, even
when you leave the table and
I will be there when you get back.
Also, I am the deck and few cards are missing.
I am the mirror in which you might one day see yourself and startle your eyes into misrecognition.
I am the cup that overfloweth,
and the child guilty for wanting.
I am the season which seems like it will never let up.
I am the sun casting rays of golden relief on the faces of many lonely strangers.
I am the forgotten sun, just as well.
I am the ruin of those who came here before me and the stain they left on the white fabric of time.
I am the fabric, loose and changing
in the winds of perpetuity.
I am a glass sphere in the midst of a landscape, puzzling and divine and uncanny alike.
I am a door left unopened.
I am a line with no end and a point with no beginning and I will let it be known that I am here seeking all.
I see everything; I am blind.
I know all; I know nothing.
I feel all; I feel nothing.
I am all; I am nothing.
Sept. 30th, 2016
Whatever fear troubles you
it has happened
You will have nothing left
but your Godhood
You will be hurled back
to the center
of the circle
And most of all
you will remember
My chains are loosened
The prison door is open
Nothing holds me in this world
Only my wish to stay
keep me prisoner
-W 57:1:3,5,7-8 *A Course in Miracles
Our meeting was nothing more
Than a quiet return of a memory
a gentle waking
to love's eternal melody
When I lay in the forest
I always feel happy no matter what is going on.
I lay with a moss blanketed Oak pressed to my back,
Listening to the trees
Swaying rhythmically in the quiet breeze.
They seem to say,
"Do not worry, I will protect you."
When I leave the peaceful place,
I am both happy and sad.
Happy to know the trees care,
But sad to leave the heavenly place.