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Sometimes, in the lively and dense fog of our lives, small inconsistencies appear.
Short moments when the fog dissipates a little, just enough to see a tiny bit through it.
The reality unveiled beyond the fog brings me to humble, mortal tears.
For a brief moment i was able to catch a glimpse of a bigger picture,
OH, but it is not for human eyes to seize.
If they do endure the sight,
they will quickly retreat to a thicker part of the fog,
where it's more cozy, human and sane,
away from the despair of Ephemeros.

In contrast, if the curiosity is too great, one might risk it's humanity by gazing too long into the gaps of the fog, all the while missing the fun and crazy shapes the fog takes or the colours that shine through at different times of day.

Two specks of dust join each other and decide to deconstruct themselves, both giving a part of them to create a third particle of dust, that is conscious about being a bad speck of dust, even knowing that being this tiny grain is utterly meaningless, it was the product of two bits of dust, therefore this meaningless effort should not go to waste... should it? How long has it been...? ... going to waste for...?
These moments usually have a trigger, today: photographs of my parents when they were young and travelling together... they had a life... how time flew... how much they invested in me... my defects that i can't fix and bring shame only to my inner self and nobody else...
I was looking when I got lost
ignoring the bill when I saw the cost
Saw my future in the turbulent waters
Of the porcelain pool into which I was tossed
Bemoaning  yet accepting the fate I was enduring
Upon hearing the sound of the handles clank
I relinquished all control
as I began to roll
Gave no fight of self preservation. as I sank
The echoing swoosh left its sound in my ears
Then solid darkness closed in tight
So much more vivid than night in absence of light
The water was thick and seemed to be swallowing me down
Any oxygen of life seemed a fast fading memory
As all the while I could feel a gathering momentum
Like a ride through some putrafied tunnel of .... well...now all ephemeral in it's sudden ephemerality
As I was
Blasted loose from that officious muck
Propelled far far beyond the cascading flow
as a lust for life returned in a flash
I flicked one fin and then the other before  allowing sweet gravity
To carry me down affording me that glorious splash.
Wow! It thought ' this is an enormous and wondrous bowl '
Oh oh oh!
That poor little goldfish that had suddenly become the hapless to happy victim
Of a frustrated and angry parent who had lost all control!!!

GOOD LUCK little one...you will need all you get!



Question/ riddle of sorts.
Anyone know the reason for my naming the. poem this ... bit of
i _ _ _ _ _ twist?
Emory Aug 2018
I could live in those moments forever,
Like when in shock my brain suddenly lost language,
My heart ceased beating,
My lungs no longer filled with air,
Creating a temporary death to accompany my realization of your permanent one, Annalisa.

Or perhaps the moment when,
We were frantically trying to get back to your hospital room, Flora,
When we got the call that you were fading away,
Helping your husband as he struggled with his walker,
And more heartbreak than I have ever seen on one face,
All while knowing we would be too late.

Even that brief sensation of dropping,
My body falling faster than my heart,
That suddenly occupied my throat,
As I rushed to an imagined release,
Could last me a lifetime.

But the memories of your smile, laugh, and happiness,
Fade more quickly than I would have predicted,
Those moments so sweet,
They melt as quickly as cotton candy in your mouth.
And I am left only with a sour aftertaste,
Cruel, lingering memories here to haunt me forever.
The Precursor’s Psalms
Book Two
Chapters VI- X: Ragnarök

A sacred parcel to the soul who looks to ―raptured firmaments for their salvific benison. Se'lah.

VI: The Paean of Lovelight (The Paean of Lovelit Life)

1 Every particle in the soil of my epidermis roves for its emanation,
Its musicality, vibrating in pulsing fuchsia shockwaves,
This melodic energy is the Paean of Lovelit Life.
2 It reverberates the remittance in reminiscence;
yes, the Circle of Life breathes through the conduit,
it peregrinates
The ephemerality, even, the eternity in all entity.
(For in us exist dichotomies)

3 In a moment of self-revelation
I know naught but the vagary of the self;
still, the pain remains,
In the benighted truth of epiphany;
4 Yes, even,
Upon the Visage of Creation
All existence groans in groping
For its Nirvanic Pulse, ―like a wraith.

5 Finding meaning in all that I am,
all that I see, all there will be, and all that is,
I understand the fallacy in knowing, the bane in consciousness:
6 In an instant, one must forget

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all they have learned, all they feel, all they sense,
in the diminution of a moment
lest the soul relinquish that which does seamlessly transmit itself through
The Streams of Tempus Fugit.

VII: The Virescent Masquerade

1 Forsake all sorrows of the morrow, for
Beneath the Masquerader’s Virescently Butterfly-Winged Mask, there is a beckoning;
2 O, even amidst foible for which you long to be assoiled, excogitations do roil;
A tremulous heart: eventualities do saunter past, present,
future, and in communing you examine the finitude & the frailty
(Will their Exodus, my Exodus,
Come before I am ready?)
Of those in the Land of the Living.

VIII: Hierarchy of Sacrality

1 Wisdom
Is a cosmos,
2 Love,
―Invictus Dei,
3 Power,
The Cradle of Cosmogenesis,
4 Justizia,
Universal Scales through which Edicts of the Cosmogonist unfurl.

IX: Vagrant Story

1 Profundities lie in our vagrancies,
And in these there lie Faiths;
The faithful hunger for
―Virtue
For through these, we find a Savior.  

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2 Our Deiform-Apotheosis is ordained by of the Arbiter of Fates,
3 He Is Our Nexus to Transcendence,
The Empyrean whom carnal perdition hast braved


X: Nelumbo Nucifera (Sacred Lotus)

1 ―O, Jah,
The Sovereign of Songbirds,
Sing in the Key of Elysium,
The Requiem of Our Swansong;
2 Beseech the Earthen Womb
Of the Terraqueous Mother
To conceive us anew that
We partake of an elemental legacy.

3 O, then
Might we re-alight,
Upon an aforetime wearied land,
―Nelumbo Nucifera: The Impregnable Sacred Lotus
4 Whose aegis’d petals through
Dusk, Dawn, Midday, Twilight, and Eve
Might effloresce
In the Aeonic Light of The Empyrean One.

(Se’lah).

Written on
Monday
May 20th, 2019

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The Book of 1st John
Chapter 3,
Verses 18 -24

(Verse 18)

“Little children, we should love, not in word or with the tongue, but in deed and truth.”

(Verse 19)

“By this we will know that we originate with the truth, and we will assure our hearts before him”

(Verse 20)

“regarding whatever our hearts may condemn us in, because God is greater than our hearts and knows all things.”

(Verse 21)

“Beloved ones, if our hearts do not condemn us, we have freeness of speech toward God;”

(Verse 22)

“and whatever we ask we receive from him, because we are observing his commandments and doing what is pleasing in his eyes.”

(Verse 23)

“Indeed, this is his commandment: that we have faith in the name of his Son Jesus Christ and love one another, just as he gave us a commandment.”

(Verse 24)

“Moreover, the one who observes his commandments remains in union with him, and he in union with such one. And by the spirit that he gave us, we know that he remains in union with us."

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Hearken unto
the
Resplendent Sol,

The Twilight draweth nigh,
Whence erupts from Sundered skies
Arcadia
In
Aeonic Light

Let ye soul
Transcend
By
The Great Apothecary;
His Panacea of Healing Love.

Though
I am a Loveless
Blight, worn, of Earthly Denizens,
I bid you
Immortal heartsease.

Borne of the Father:
Who
forms
all
things.

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Sired by the Son:
Who
Conceives
All
Truth.

Begotten by the Spirit:
That
Burgeons in
(our)
―dreams.

The Grand Creator's
Magnum Opera:
Loom
Within
All of us.


Excelsior Forevermore,


Sanders Maurice Foulke III.

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Daniel H Shulman Oct 2018
The enduring ephemerality,
Strung together moments of blissfulness,
Each fleeting in its temporality,
But feeling infinite in wistfulness.

The hands of time spin circles without end,
While memories live in moments discrete.
Some moments blur to a nondescript end,
Moments with you time will never defeat.

Events live so long as not forgotten,
Life’s meaning breaks time’s continuity.
With each breath a new time is begotten,
So time gone lives in perpetuity.

When timeless blissfulness is in the past,
The paradox of time still makes it last.
Instagram @insightshurt
Blogging at www.insightshurt.com
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