#aether
A thought form the aether
Will come to me,
And I will claim it
Comfortably.
But the matter of fact
Of the matter is that
I will take it as that
Wholeheartedly.
A dream from the aether
Will plague me.
I’ll awake and remember it
Vaguely.
But the matter of fact
Of the matter is that
I’ll endure it, and this, that
Sanely.
A force from the aether
Will slay me.
I’ll perish and join it there,
Maybe.
But the matter of fact
Of the matter is that
The aether is not he that
Blames me.
The aether is not one to shame me.
Nov 1, 2024
Nov 1, 2024 at 11:29 AM UTC
Absence is to love as wind is to fire; it extinguishes the small and kindles the great
— Roger de Bussy-Rabutin, Memoir of Roger de Rabutin
Four thousand meters above the sea, I breathe without air
I feel the same when beside me you are no more
The black, the void chokes me in the moment’s despair
And The Scarlet Fear runs inside me with a thunderous roar
My aching marooned heart bleeds from behind
Of the darkened soul that consumes me at each stride
But love is the golden aether of my troubled mind
An oxygen supply brought to this confusion tide
Without your presence, they were icy nights
Though knowing your fire ignited with my fuel
Is a mild treat, a promise of a beautiful sight
Kindless trouble, is it all in my imagination?
And is the love I feel a mere foolish incantation?
I will never know until she answers my soundless voice
Jan 13, 2021
Jan 13, 2021 at 3:10 PM UTC
Cosmic Ball
Dressed in a suit of pinstripe stars,
He’s discussed war and played chess with Mars,
Far, in foreign solar systems,
He chuckles with their planetary distortion,
He’s gambled for the diamonds of Neptune,
Bowled infinite starlit lanes with Jupiter,
Witnessed sacred scry’s and change from Saturn,
Witnessed lies, severed ties,
Much he has seen, he who walks starlit skies,
Martini’s of primordial soup,
With a scoop of star,
Shared in lieu of chaos, with Venus,
Knocking back a few, so far,
He’s raced Mercury around the sun,
Every lap done, feeling victory, whether he’s lost or won, praises they sung, harmony rung,
He’s sat on the surface of Sol, sunglasses dawned,
Other then growth and to learn he has no defined goal,
Just playing a role,
Breaking energetic chains,
And immortal bars,
He slow dances with a myriad of stars,
Celestial bodies of divine will, power, grace,
Orbiting around him in suits, silk, suede nylon and lace,
All dancing to a distant interstellar song,
A long distant echo of light,
A throng of stars creating the constellations mighty heights,
A universe locked in constant cosmic push and pull,
Never empty, never full,
He reflects, riding the back of a wild cosmic bull,
Riding back to mother, back to varied perspectives of what is true,
Back to a planet of green and blue,
Till the next invitation come queue,
To another night in primordial stew of sights and seeings,
Another quaint Ball with fantastic cosmic beings..
May 8, 2019
May 8, 2019 at 9:12 PM UTC
where do i even begin? to point
into five outward points is an idea that
only translucent particles of nothing or everything
can enjoy with real, unwashed hands.
the glassy revery of daffodils
and powers of numbers stretch
to an aether, a void worth unmentioning, unforgetting,
reforgetting and rementioning.
i say goodnight, even if we're already dreaming,
and maybe the night might undo its amnesia.
May 5, 2018
May 5, 2018 at 2:59 PM UTC
I have been here so many times,
Experienced many falls and many primes.
I am merely a visitor, a player, in this game,
Here for a while before I shed my face and name.
But I play this game, and I do not play alone.
I know of people from the Aether; my true home.
They had come with me, but first I remember none,
Of who they are in this game, and where have they come and gone.
But our hearts will always bring us back to,
Each other's embrace, those words are true.
A wise man said that love is forever.
Past this life and beyond, we've been together.
When we find each other, we would rejoice,
For our union is beyond a mortal body's choice.
But I feel sorrow for the day of my soul's return,
To this place, and forget them for one more turn.
My dear family of soul and heart,
Please hear me now before we part.
I love you all, my words are too true.
I'm glad we've united. me and you.
I hope one day, when our lessons are done,
When we drop this video game to finally have fun.
I wish to explore infinity and beyond,
With you, until stars come and gone.
Thank you, my soul family...
Feb 2, 2018
Feb 2, 2018 at 8:29 AM UTC
Mist clouds forming on my skin
I dye my mind in thin formations
soft sentient siblings aviate my fingers
frost lit prisms projecting visions that I relate to
chromatic distillation fancying the minds eye
dark transient beings no longer apply
dispersing and spilling into stretches of time
Aether, Aether, help me climb.
Jun 25, 2015
Jun 25, 2015 at 10:17 PM UTC
Is a realm where alchemy is alive and well
It resides in the aether making it difficult to envision
A place of dreams but if you are imaginative
There is also structure
Dreams without structure are just whispers of nothingness
Quickly dissipating
Without structure, dreams quickly fold back into the aether
Waiting for a less superfluous re-imagination
To make it on the physical plane, there must be roots
When dreams are infused with structure, roots can be found
There is potential that those dreams can wake up
When the dreams are provided with structure and
Are re-animated with function
Then we have a breath of life
Structure and function are what allows Us
To step out of dreamtime and into reality
To find the roots of that architecture you must have vision
Not see with your eyes vision, but a different type
This framework hasn’t always existed
Relations have created it
That’s why it’s recognizable
The framework are the laws, both natural and synthetic
It’s the place where duality and non-duality collide
It’s a place of transcendence
A place of truth
Maybe we can learn to see holistically here
Anisotropica has many functions
It’s art and science fused
It’s poetry and song and dance
And mathematics and physics and chemistry
It is an expression of sacred geometry
An amalgamation of binary and analog
The fusion of dreams and laws
Creates a space that can be mined for transcendence
A place where we can extend past many current limitations
It's a springboard to become who you are
Oct 20, 2014
Oct 20, 2014 at 4:26 PM UTC
< - - Housekeeping - - >
Why is there no checklist for life?
Can you say … recipe for disaster …
If you’re planning to fail …
… then you’re failing to plan
I cut my teeth in a house where we could eat off the floor if we so desired
The floor was either that clean or some other innate wisdom was built into that statement
And I thought my inane wisdom came from ...
Do you, don’t you want me to love you?
#9 #9
Now somewhere in the Black Mountain Hills of Dakota
**** Sadie you broke the rules
Singing in the dead of night
Obla-di
Why don’t you stare into your own Glass Onion
… Beatles
(My head is spinning, ooh...
Ha ha ha, ha ha ha, alight!
I got blisters on my fingers!)
Sep 17, 2014
Sep 17, 2014 at 5:03 AM UTC
52 Weeks: Whitman
The spotted hawk swoops by and accuses me, he complains of my gab and my loitering.
I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable,
I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.
The last scud of day holds back for me,
It flings my likeness after the rest and true as any on the shadow’d wilds,
It coaxes me to the vapor and the dusk.
I depart as air, I shake my white locks at the runaway sun,
I effuse my flesh in eddies, and drift it in lacy jags.
I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love,
If you want me again look for me under your boot-soles.
You will hardly know who I am or what I mean,
But I shall be good health to you nevertheless,
And filter and fibre your blood.
Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged,
Missing me one place search another,
I stop somewhere waiting for you.
52 Weeks: Mullein
The Red-Tailed hawk swoops by and catches just a glimpse, he tilts his head Dionysian style mouth slightly agape.
I too am a wild thing, I too am untethered,
And I sound animalistic in the dining halls of the tamed.
The final missile thud holds me in a sweet caress,
My likeness rockets earthward … tried and true and tired and truer,
I am coaxed into existence once again.
I maintain my aetheric ties as I know this is the roadmap back to you,
It’s nice to be enmeshed in the living once again even though they drain,
To drain is to live, one gives eternity to be mortal - it’s the only thing that ever made sense.
I won’t depart, I dig in my heels,
And I turn my back on the organized.
I am of the earth because I understand my antecedents … my mother’s mother’s mother …
And because of this knowledge of ante’s I can set prece’s, hopefully precisely.
I hardly know who I am or what I mean (on a good day),
But I am good for you none the less,
As our tastes and sounds and smells and touches intermingle.
And always I wait patiently,
for me for you,
for us.
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 10:52 PM UTC