Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
No more magic: magic dreams, magic realities. Does this seem backwards and ludicrous of me to state such a wish? Potentially.

Yet I do not wish such upon all domains: it's more a fallacy from wariness. Yet, even an idle wish cannot change the course of action already in motion.

Ergo, if anyone still vehemently disagrees with the notion of my half wish after the intricacies are spilled upon the table; do as you will. Yet tread with caution, as you've been given heed.

To embrace the multifaceted, multidimensional level of intricate details which form the building blocks of the nature of such a claim and infinity; reviewing and understanding a few core concepts is necessary.

Magic is essentially the higher understanding and manipulation of nature. A form of knowledge, if you will.

Knowledge consists of one of the many pathways or permutations used to control for power.

What of power? Well, within the hands of an undisciplined mind, it is a means of corruption.

This does not insinuate that the presence of power is a causal link for corruption. Not in full. Yet enough power paired with an undisciplined mind can result in corruption. One might find themselves signing over the soul at the drop of a dime.

Furthermore, even for those possessing an extremely disciplined and engrained sense of virtue; power can corrupt if given enough time and the proper circumstances.

Despite this understanding, if given the opportunity: I'd pick magic **** near every time.

β€œI can change” we'd say; after the thousandth retake of the same test of willpower, of failed temperance and appetites. This is cried out to the sky only upon recalling the aftermath of damage caused.

Perhaps we could change.
Yet we vow this each time before starting the process anew; our memories wiped.

Memory is grand, yet it is our virtue that holds the key, that which truly counts. This too can be learned, relearned, compromised, expanded upon. It is not a static state. It adapts, lives, breathes, thrives; and you better believe it's intelligent. (As all energy is intelligent.)

Throw the two together, along with a few more ingredients, and one is given the comprising elements governing most everything; to some degree or another.

β€œThere is no good or evil; there is only power, and those too weak to seek it.”

Not quite. This is a ****** half truth of blind lunacy stemming from everyone who has and shall always be nobody else but you. This is the face of corruption fueled by power, resting inside us all.

Yet it does not encompass all layers. No.

It is every single one of those things, and none of them.
It is the compromised result of all infinite possibilities in between: of everything all at once, until it IS only One; encompassing each subsequent pause and division in between.

It is the unification, the separation, the battle and harmony between form and void; and of the constant, neverending, infinite, perpetual vacuum of everything and nothing in-between all fluctuating at different rates and degrees.

Any reality you could ever imagine, (be it surface level; or diving into one of the immesurable infinities, or somewhere in between) - it has either happened; is currently occuring; or will come to pass at some point.

Time does not exist in the same constraints we are accustomed to. It is cyclical, recursive, nonlinear, and in states of quantum superposition (or cognition) - all happening at once.

Over an unutterable infinity, or within the blink of a cosmic eye. Yet who is to say that these two notions are not the same?

Infinitely many is just the comprised collective innumerable counterpart of One.

Imagine DNA. When broken down at the subatomic molecular level; it is infinitely small. Yet it creates the human body: the same blueprint present everywhere.

Out of the microscopic level of infinitely small forms larger layers. DNA creates the neurons within the human brain. Jumping out a layer: this forms the whole of the brain. Then the human body. It magnifies to the entire collective of human bodies.

This in turn creates the cells for another strand of DNA within a larger One. More neurons. Brain. The bodyβ„’ of that larger One. The collective bodies of the collective of Ones. Repeat this cycle ad infinitum.

It is always One; but how it appears depends on the level of infinity you're dealing with and envisioning at that given moment.


So go ahead and tell me, child.
Would it all have been worthwhile
To tread upon Eliot's allusiory notion
Having bitten off the matter with a smile
Negating warnings, blinded by devotion?
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
During our days to ****** and create
Amnesic to past transgressions of a dying fall
Divulging the insidious question upon our plate?
Daring to disturb the song of the universe
Repeating the same indecisions and revisions
In which we must ultimately reverse?
tuesday, january 29th, 2019

(this stems from something akin to a Harry Potter dreamβ„’ that took on a life all its own; arranging things which are known and recalled to me during my waking Being.)

kalica delphine Β©
wes parham Apr 2015
Fallen angels and pixies and such,
Look into Earth’s skies,
Remembering much,
Of their life as it was,
Time and energy fields,
From the young star above us,
To the way the wind feels...

Could it ever compare
To the home that once was?
Oh, I say to you, β€œyes…”,
Yes, it can,
And it does.
this was a super fast bit written in response to a friend's poem.
It's more whimsical than I tend to write, but it flows and I will own the optimistic mania that it seems to hold.
Read here by the author, with a brief commentary:
Many legends there be back in days of old;
Legends of bold knights upon their noble steeds.
This be a tale starring a knight and his steed
As one and the same.

'Twas in the Renaissance city of Poitiers
The prodigy of a holy knight was born;
Sir NathanΓ«al of the Salomon bloodline,
Lineage of victors.

He bore the heart and voice of an archangel
And the loyalty of a priest to his God.
No other horse he rode but his first and last;
Dear "Divinitus."

Alas, his loyalty had cost him dearly
In the midst of the Battle of Moncontour.
Thus came the end of NathanΓ«al Salomon.
Or so it had seemed.

By the hands of benevolent sorcery,
NathanΓ«al and Divinitus lived again,
This time sharing a peculiar physique
Of both man and horse.

Thus, blessed with fur of white and a mane of gold,
Well-equipped with lightweight armour and claymore,
He walked the outskirts of France slaying evil
As both knight and steed.
Here is my very first sapphic which I wrote as part of my homework for Tees Achieve Creative Writing.


Β© Jordan Dean "Mystery" Ezekude

— The End —