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"materiality" poems
It was but was not god nor  goddess. It was but was not deva nor devi. It was but was not angel nor demon. It was but was not metaphysical being of any kind. It was but had not any name nor could it be named. It was but had not any  face nor likeness. It was but had not any body or corporeal state. It was but had not any form nor lack of form. It was but not incarnate nor disincarnate. It was but was not existent nor non-existent. It was but could be described in words in any way. It was but had not depth nor height nor breadth nor volume. It was  but could not be measured in any way. It was but had not materiality of any kind. It was but had not immateriality of any kind. It was but had not space nor lack  of space. It was but had not direction nor lack  of direction. It was but had not nothingness. It was  but had not somethingness. It was but had not anythingness. It was but had not beingness. It was but not Isness or non-Isness. It was but had not light nor dark. It was but had not wetness nor dryness. It was but was not nowhere. It was but was not nowhere. It was but was not somewhere. It was but was not anywhere. It was and then It manifested the nature of Its essence and became the universe and all that was in the universe. All that was incarnate and disincarnate. All that was physical and metaphysical. All that was existent and non-existent. And still It was. It manifested Itself in ignorance of Its own nature as the Isness of the Universe, in order to participate in the existence It had created from Its own essence,on an equal and fair level with humanity. It gave of its own essence by putting a small piece of its own essence--the individual Isness-which is equal and autonomous and individual and independent--into all human bodies,both female and male,at conception. And It made humans ignorant of their nature--the  individual Isness-- as It  made itself ignorant of Its own nature. And then It set humans and Itself the Riddle of the Existence that had come from Its manifestation of its nature as the universe and all that was in it. It posed these three questions to humanity and to Itself. 1--Who am I?. 2--Why am I here?. 3--When I knowhow I am then what is my purpose?. Who am I?. Like all humans,and for the sake of fairness, It manifested Itself  into ignorance of its own nature also. The Isness of the Universe set humans the task of realising their own nature--which is the individual Isness--as an equal individual autonomous and independent part of the essence of the Isness of the Universe,so that they could then show the Isness of the Universe Its own essence and then share existence together. The principle governing Its action in creating the universe and all it contains, especially humanity,was that before you can reach the heights of existence you must go through the depths of existence. Why am I here?. Obviously I am here to answer the first question. After answering the first question --which can only be done existentially and not intellectually-- there would then be the third question to be answered. The answer to the first question lies in regaining your existential nature--the individual Isness--as a small but equal,independent, individual,nameless,formless,genderless and non-physical Isness formed from the Isness of the Universe which is free from Mind and Conditioned Identity. The answer  does  NOT lie in amassing the false knowledge of all "religions" and "political systems  that the Mind and Conditioned Identity have created in order to mislead the individual Isness from realising ,existentially,its true nature. The Isness of the Universe  did not want a world of maniputed puppets,as the Mind/Conditioned Identity,does but in order to achieve fairness in solving the Riddle of Existence,it gave humanity these attributes and the ability to live out their opposites. Freedom of Will. Freedom of Choice. Freedom of speech. Freedom of Truthfulness. Freedom of Association. Freedom of  Debate. Freedom from Violence. Agreement to Disagree. www.beyondenlightenment.co.uk
0
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 1:21 AM UTC
mannley-collins
The Isness of the Universe is an eternal process
It was but was not god nor  goddess. It was but was not deva nor devi. It was but was not angel nor demon. It was but was not metaphysical being of any kind. It was but had not any name nor could it be named. It was but had not any  face nor likeness. It was but had not any body or corporeal state. It was but had not any form nor lack of form. It was but not incarnate nor disincarnate. It was but was not existent nor non-existent. It was but could be described in words in any way. It was but had not depth nor height nor breadth nor volume. It was  but could not be measured in any way. It was but had not materiality of any kind. It was but had not immateriality of any kind. It was but had not space nor lack  of space. It was but had not direction nor lack  of direction. It was but had not nothingness. It was  but had not somethingness. It was but had not anythingness. It was but had not beingness. It was but not Isness or non-Isness. It was but had not light nor dark. It was but had not wetness nor dryness. It was but was not nowhere. It was but was not nowhere. It was but was not somewhere. It was but was not anywhere. It was and then It manifested the nature of Its essence and became the universe and all that was in the universe. All that was incarnate and disincarnate. All that was physical and metaphysical. All that was existent and non-existent. And still It was. It manifested Itself in ignorance of Its own nature as the Isness of the Universe, in order to participate in the existence It had created from Its own essence,on an equal and fair level with humanity. It gave of its own essence by putting a small piece of its own essence--the individual Isness-which is equal and autonomous and individual and independent--into all human bodies,both female and male,at conception. And It made humans ignorant of their nature--the  individual Isness-- as It  made itself ignorant of Its own nature. And then It set humans and Itself the Riddle of the Existence that had come from Its manifestation of its nature as the universe and all that was in it. It posed these three questions to humanity and to Itself. 1--Who am I?. 2--Why am I here?. 3--When I knowhow I am then what is my purpose?. Who am I?. Like all humans,and for the sake of fairness, It manifested Itself  into ignorance of its own nature also. The Isness of the Universe set humans the task of realising their own nature--which is the individual Isness--as an equal individual autonomous and independent part of the essence of the Isness of the Universe,so that they could then show the Isness of the Universe Its own essence and then share existence together. The principle governing Its action in creating the universe and all it contains, especially humanity,was that before you can reach the heights of existence you must go through the depths of existence. Why am I here?. Obviously I am here to answer the first question. After answering the first question --which can only be done existentially and not intellectually-- there would then be the third question to be answered. The answer to the first question lies in regaining your existential nature--the individual Isness--as a small but equal,independent, individual,nameless,formless,genderless and non-physical Isness formed from the Isness of the Universe which is free from Mind and Conditioned Identity. The answer  does  NOT lie in amassing the false knowledge of all "religions" and "political systems  that the Mind and Conditioned Identity have created in order to mislead the individual Isness from realising ,existentially,its true nature. The Isness of the Universe  did not want a world of maniputed puppets,as the Mind/Conditioned Identity,does but in order to achieve fairness in solving the Riddle of Existence,it gave humanity these attributes and the ability to live out their opposites. Freedom of Will. Freedom of Choice. Freedom of speech. Freedom of Truthfulness. Freedom of Association. Freedom of  Debate. Freedom from Violence. Agreement to Disagree. www.beyondenlightenment.co.uk
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66
Beyond a beginingless beginning. It was but was not any "god" or "goddess". It was but was not "deva" or "devi". It was but was not "angel" or "demon". It was but was not a metaphysical being of any kind. It was but had not any name nor could it be named. It was but had not any face nor likeness. It was but had not any body not corporeal form. It was but had not gender nor *** It was but was not incarnate or disincarnate. It was but was not existent nor non existent. It was but could not be described by any words in any way. It was but had not depth nor height nor breadth nor volume. It was but could not be measured in any way. It was but could not be imagined. It was but had not materiality of any kind. It was but had not immateriality in any way. It was but had not space nor lack of space. It was but had not direction nor lack of direction. It was but had not nothingness. It was but had not somethingness. It was but had not anythingness. It was but had not beingness. It was but had not light nor dark. It was but had not wetness or dryness. It was but was not nowhere. It was but had not somewhere. It was but had not anywhere. It was and then it manifested the nature of its essence and became the endless Universe and all that was in the Universe. All that was incarnate. All that was disincarnate. All that was physical and metaphysical. All that was existing and non existing. And still it was. It manifested itself in ignorance of its own nature as the Isness of the Universe,in order to participate in the existence it had created from its own nature on an equal and fair level with humanity. It gave of itself by incarnating a small piece of its own nature into all human bodies,both male and female ,equally but different,at conception and then it made them all ignorant of their beginings as it made itself ignorant of its own beginings. And then it set these Isness incarnated in human bodies the riddle of the existence that had arisen from its manifestation as the Universe and all that was in it. It posed these three questions to Humanity and itself. 1--What am I?. 2--Why am I here?. 3--When I know what I am then what is my purpose. The Isness of the Universe set each individual Isness incarnated in a human body the task of realising its own nature,which was a part of the nature of the Isness of the Universe, so that each individual Isness could then show the Isness of the Universe its own nature incarnated in a human body,female or male equally of any skin colour,dancing the dance of life,singing the song of life.. The principle governing our joint action on creating the Universe and all it contains,especially Humanity,was that before you can reach the heights of Existence you must  go through the depths of Existence. And oh boy are we going through the depths playing these Mind games?. www.beyondenlightenment.co.uk
0
May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 1:05 AM UTC
mannley-collins
The Isness of the Universe
Beyond a beginingless beginning. It was but was not any "god" or "goddess". It was but was not "deva" or "devi". It was but was not "angel" or "demon". It was but was not a metaphysical being of any kind. It was but had not any name nor could it be named. It was but had not any face nor likeness. It was but had not any body not corporeal form. It was but had not gender nor *** It was but was not incarnate or disincarnate. It was but was not existent nor non existent. It was but could not be described by any words in any way. It was but had not depth nor height nor breadth nor volume. It was but could not be measured in any way. It was but could not be imagined. It was but had not materiality of any kind. It was but had not immateriality in any way. It was but had not space nor lack of space. It was but had not direction nor lack of direction. It was but had not nothingness. It was but had not somethingness. It was but had not anythingness. It was but had not beingness. It was but had not light nor dark. It was but had not wetness or dryness. It was but was not nowhere. It was but had not somewhere. It was but had not anywhere. It was and then it manifested the nature of its essence and became the endless Universe and all that was in the Universe. All that was incarnate. All that was disincarnate. All that was physical and metaphysical. All that was existing and non existing. And still it was. It manifested itself in ignorance of its own nature as the Isness of the Universe,in order to participate in the existence it had created from its own nature on an equal and fair level with humanity. It gave of itself by incarnating a small piece of its own nature into all human bodies,both male and female ,equally but different,at conception and then it made them all ignorant of their beginings as it made itself ignorant of its own beginings. And then it set these Isness incarnated in human bodies the riddle of the existence that had arisen from its manifestation as the Universe and all that was in it. It posed these three questions to Humanity and itself. 1--What am I?. 2--Why am I here?. 3--When I know what I am then what is my purpose. The Isness of the Universe set each individual Isness incarnated in a human body the task of realising its own nature,which was a part of the nature of the Isness of the Universe, so that each individual Isness could then show the Isness of the Universe its own nature incarnated in a human body,female or male equally of any skin colour,dancing the dance of life,singing the song of life.. The principle governing our joint action on creating the Universe and all it contains,especially Humanity,was that before you can reach the heights of Existence you must  go through the depths of Existence. And oh boy are we going through the depths playing these Mind games?. www.beyondenlightenment.co.uk
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46
An abstract of an academic paper written by a doctoral student: "In this semimanifesto, I approach how understandings of quantum physics and cyborgian bodies can (or always already do) ally with feminist anti-oppression practices long in use. The idea of the body (whether biological, social, or of work) is not stagnant, and new materialist feminisms help to recognize how multiple phenomena work together to behave in what can become legible at any given moment as a body. By utilizing the materiality of conceptions about connectivity often thought to be merely theoretical, by taking a critical look at the noncentralized and multiple movements of quantum physics, and by dehierarchizing the necessity of linear bodies through time, it becomes possible to reconfigure structures of value, longevity, and subjectivity in ways explicitly aligned with anti-oppression practices and identity politics. Combining intersectionality and quantum physics can provide for differing perspectives on organizing practices long used by marginalized people, for enabling apparatuses that allow for new possibilities of safer spaces, and for practices of accountability."--an abstract of a paper by doctoral student Whitney Stark Atomic particles, how can it be so that your purpose is not just to flow in and out of existence, building reality-- the stars, cosmic gas and galaxies-- but to “ally” with groups of humans fighting “hierarchies” and demanding “safe spaces” (even though their entire race is at the top of their planet’s food chain). In this mysterious universe there is no safety, accountability or identity, only elements, and energy. Brief combinations make life legible for a nanosecond in cosmic time, and doomed to strife. Biology does not know oppression, only generation, reproduction, until our growth chokes us and we fall like so many of our ancestors, who lived and died on this blue-green ball. And one day the sun will explode and blow even our atoms, which have endured (despite oppression), and the particles will go far until maybe they sow new life, in bodies unfamiliar, on planets unknown.
0
Jun 11, 2017
Jun 11, 2017 at 9:31 AM UTC
scarlet-mccall
The Universe v. Ideology
An abstract of an academic paper written by a doctoral student: "In this semimanifesto, I approach how understandings of quantum physics and cyborgian bodies can (or always already do) ally with feminist anti-oppression practices long in use. The idea of the body (whether biological, social, or of work) is not stagnant, and new materialist feminisms help to recognize how multiple phenomena work together to behave in what can become legible at any given moment as a body. By utilizing the materiality of conceptions about connectivity often thought to be merely theoretical, by taking a critical look at the noncentralized and multiple movements of quantum physics, and by dehierarchizing the necessity of linear bodies through time, it becomes possible to reconfigure structures of value, longevity, and subjectivity in ways explicitly aligned with anti-oppression practices and identity politics. Combining intersectionality and quantum physics can provide for differing perspectives on organizing practices long used by marginalized people, for enabling apparatuses that allow for new possibilities of safer spaces, and for practices of accountability."--an abstract of a paper by doctoral student Whitney Stark Atomic particles, how can it be so that your purpose is not just to flow in and out of existence, building reality-- the stars, cosmic gas and galaxies-- but to “ally” with groups of humans fighting “hierarchies” and demanding “safe spaces” (even though their entire race is at the top of their planet’s food chain). In this mysterious universe there is no safety, accountability or identity, only elements, and energy. Brief combinations make life legible for a nanosecond in cosmic time, and doomed to strife. Biology does not know oppression, only generation, reproduction, until our growth chokes us and we fall like so many of our ancestors, who lived and died on this blue-green ball. And one day the sun will explode and blow even our atoms, which have endured (despite oppression), and the particles will go far until maybe they sow new life, in bodies unfamiliar, on planets unknown.
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23
Peoples’ lives are dying in consistency; Greed in their pedestal has corrupted this world’s societies. A fruitful opportunity, a gold rush was encountered! Underlying the main ambition of many unfortunate ambitious desires.    Persistently seeking an object of materiality, Children have become contracted to labor endlessly till mortality. The corporate pose has overshadowed humanity, Predetermining existence through living in a vision of obscurity.    Freedom has evolved in many attaining their dreams, Yet, failing to realize their limits in overstepping boundaries. Morality has been compromised to new opportunities. Ultimately, corrupting one’s essence in living spiritually.    We have eluded to perceive the subtle communication they have established you see. Projecting honesty while planting a seed, they enrich themselves invulnerably. Enabled through the loophole of ignorance attracted by social mediocrity, Revealing a battle between each other secretly disguised as insecurity.    Asking how do I seek success, freedom, and happiness endlessly. Indubitably, the answer relies inside, secreting awareness internally. Discovering that the war begins within may end the violence indeed. Extinguishing eternal destruction of the world through peace and harmony.    By: Michael M. De La Fuente
0
May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 7:47 PM UTC
Michael-M-De-La-Fuente
Greed
Peoples’ lives are dying in consistency; Greed in their pedestal has corrupted this world’s societies. A fruitful opportunity, a gold rush was encountered! Underlying the main ambition of many unfortunate ambitious desires.    Persistently seeking an object of materiality, Children have become contracted to labor endlessly till mortality. The corporate pose has overshadowed humanity, Predetermining existence through living in a vision of obscurity.    Freedom has evolved in many attaining their dreams, Yet, failing to realize their limits in overstepping boundaries. Morality has been compromised to new opportunities. Ultimately, corrupting one’s essence in living spiritually.    We have eluded to perceive the subtle communication they have established you see. Projecting honesty while planting a seed, they enrich themselves invulnerably. Enabled through the loophole of ignorance attracted by social mediocrity, Revealing a battle between each other secretly disguised as insecurity.    Asking how do I seek success, freedom, and happiness endlessly. Indubitably, the answer relies inside, secreting awareness internally. Discovering that the war begins within may end the violence indeed. Extinguishing eternal destruction of the world through peace and harmony.    By: Michael M. De La Fuente
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21
*I am sorry for all I caused you. I saw you sink in my eyes and I lost you. Thought it cost you, To see me breathe in broken souls, Never knew about the love I sold. I ripped up all the truths in my head, Wished me dead in a bed Where I bled, And the wind spoke. All the secrets that I had inside me Beat on the doors till they shattered and the lock broke, I always felt like a flower on a hillside, Mercy to the wind and you till I finally died. The sun set in my throat, It rained in my eyes, I had no where to go. I am sorry that my anger left stains on your skin. But you cut me with the lies you told, And you broke me with things that we never could have been. I sinned, Serpents sliding down my cheeks. When I speak, Its like the tide is in my mouth, The waves moving south until they're gone. We build up our bodies, Broken promises, And whispers we hear in our head. The foundation we've set is shaking, It can't handle us breaking, And can't handle us faking so tell the truth. I have never lied to you. But you took the love I gave and you threw it. I never knew how my half a heart craved your hand but now I do. You are like the greatest poison. Moving through my own veins with no noise and, My hands shake wothout my fix, But you can't fix me, Its true. I need you to stay here now, While I fly away, Leaving you standing on the ground, Don't frown, You never needed me, With concieded tragedy Trembling from your lips. And I know you can feel it, Can taste materiality when you kiss. My head is crashing, My body thrashing on the ground till its blue, I'm not saying that I want to leave, I'm just saying that you can't love me like I need. I know it might be hard But I'm looking so far And all I can see is my tears. How am I supposed to live this way? Waiting day by day For you to reveal all my fears. You know I hate my future, As much as I hate your present suture You're letting dive into your heart. I don't know how to start, In a world where you're my world But I'm not yours. I say that I will leave and close the door, Leave it a crack, So I can see your light in the dark, And find my way back. All I asked of you was your hand, Press it to my chest, I know you can. You make me resent all the words that I've said, Went through your ears, Passed by your brain and out your head. You said, You don't know how to help me, I'm not the titanic that's sinking, Just a person that's wishing, that someone had taught me to swim. I know you don't get me, Don't understand what my head thinks, Well darling that makes two.*
0
May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 1:17 AM UTC
two-parts-of-a-broken-heart
If I was La Dispute.
*I am sorry for all I caused you. I saw you sink in my eyes and I lost you. Thought it cost you, To see me breathe in broken souls, Never knew about the love I sold. I ripped up all the truths in my head, Wished me dead in a bed Where I bled, And the wind spoke. All the secrets that I had inside me Beat on the doors till they shattered and the lock broke, I always felt like a flower on a hillside, Mercy to the wind and you till I finally died. The sun set in my throat, It rained in my eyes, I had no where to go. I am sorry that my anger left stains on your skin. But you cut me with the lies you told, And you broke me with things that we never could have been. I sinned, Serpents sliding down my cheeks. When I speak, Its like the tide is in my mouth, The waves moving south until they're gone. We build up our bodies, Broken promises, And whispers we hear in our head. The foundation we've set is shaking, It can't handle us breaking, And can't handle us faking so tell the truth. I have never lied to you. But you took the love I gave and you threw it. I never knew how my half a heart craved your hand but now I do. You are like the greatest poison. Moving through my own veins with no noise and, My hands shake wothout my fix, But you can't fix me, Its true. I need you to stay here now, While I fly away, Leaving you standing on the ground, Don't frown, You never needed me, With concieded tragedy Trembling from your lips. And I know you can feel it, Can taste materiality when you kiss. My head is crashing, My body thrashing on the ground till its blue, I'm not saying that I want to leave, I'm just saying that you can't love me like I need. I know it might be hard But I'm looking so far And all I can see is my tears. How am I supposed to live this way? Waiting day by day For you to reveal all my fears. You know I hate my future, As much as I hate your present suture You're letting dive into your heart. I don't know how to start, In a world where you're my world But I'm not yours. I say that I will leave and close the door, Leave it a crack, So I can see your light in the dark, And find my way back. All I asked of you was your hand, Press it to my chest, I know you can. You make me resent all the words that I've said, Went through your ears, Passed by your brain and out your head. You said, You don't know how to help me, I'm not the titanic that's sinking, Just a person that's wishing, that someone had taught me to swim. I know you don't get me, Don't understand what my head thinks, Well darling that makes two.*
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83
Miracles lay behind decimals In this domain of imminent decay They tread drearily Coming and going But hardly making a difference at all Dwindling happenstances Going unperceived by untrained eyes Ephemeral, glowing thoughts That transcend into dull, mere materiality But they don't really matter at all.
0
Dec 1, 2013
Dec 1, 2013 at 9:59 PM UTC
devyn-batchelder
Mere Miracles
Miracles lay behind decimals In this domain of imminent decay They tread drearily Coming and going But hardly making a difference at all Dwindling happenstances Going unperceived by untrained eyes Ephemeral, glowing thoughts That transcend into dull, mere materiality But they don't really matter at all.
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10
body genre at a carnal address sensory and sensuous effects materiality digital images anthropology of desire she tied a knot around his **** a wedding band made of licorice shoelaces for the art of tongue and **** driving it in her pink throat back and forth like a shift stick flared for the retina a puzzlement and fascination haptic screen of fiction adventure of  being pinned down an unpremeditated punctum fucktum sucktum the stadium of desire a shop window banality transcending banality the literal transformed into the ****** a ****** smiles red girl in a suitcase with a hole to **** a treasure chest the leaky boundaries of erotica sing in musical blood whistles I packed her up limbless and threw her on the bed and with tender kisses of endless wet permutations banged three oozing holes into finger ponds of oblivion she taunted    age play- ageless ***** class a weird ethnicity from Timbuktu racially motivated lust for a conveyance of fleshy intensities way past help a big **** dips a tender dimple like a barnacled whale in a deep dive the violence of a preemptive strike for everything imaginable across raw lips in her cosmos of swinging hips and cross bone riddles oh happy ***** suicide ****** at the computer screen **** bullets birthday cake in a River Styx of flames
0
Jun 21, 2020
Jun 21, 2020 at 4:40 PM UTC
zebrablack
Disturbing Fleshy Text
body genre at a carnal address sensory and sensuous effects materiality digital images anthropology of desire she tied a knot around his **** a wedding band made of licorice shoelaces for the art of tongue and **** driving it in her pink throat back and forth like a shift stick flared for the retina a puzzlement and fascination haptic screen of fiction adventure of  being pinned down an unpremeditated punctum fucktum sucktum the stadium of desire a shop window banality transcending banality the literal transformed into the ****** a ****** smiles red girl in a suitcase with a hole to **** a treasure chest the leaky boundaries of erotica sing in musical blood whistles I packed her up limbless and threw her on the bed and with tender kisses of endless wet permutations banged three oozing holes into finger ponds of oblivion she taunted    age play- ageless ***** class a weird ethnicity from Timbuktu racially motivated lust for a conveyance of fleshy intensities way past help a big **** dips a tender dimple like a barnacled whale in a deep dive the violence of a preemptive strike for everything imaginable across raw lips in her cosmos of swinging hips and cross bone riddles oh happy ***** suicide ****** at the computer screen **** bullets birthday cake in a River Styx of flames
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64
Abandon's clay roiled, doubled what pulse of life...in tune and out of. Pathological music derived from music... ecstasy--whose recompense is a sound loss of selves. Multiform unto archetypal gods--Dionysus first among, Apollo last among...eviscerated, trophied, slathered upon these rotund Grecian ladies and gentleman. Hallowed names depart the incontinent circle, forgone the synoptical scarlet lettering of name...transcendence. Torrent upon torrent of ambrosia down the throat...skyward runoff of chins...scribbled down the primordial bloom of ****** O sylvan gathering, crowns of laurel graduate thee from materiality...a shuddering beauteousness--broke shafts of light clash lovingly from luminous head to head. Here...the extenuating circumstance of consciousness appropriated quoad sacra.
0
Feb 2, 2015
Feb 2, 2015 at 1:12 PM UTC
Onoma
Dionysian Dithyramb
Abandon's clay roiled, doubled what pulse of life...in tune and out of. Pathological music derived from music... ecstasy--whose recompense is a sound loss of selves. Multiform unto archetypal gods--Dionysus first among, Apollo last among...eviscerated, trophied, slathered upon these rotund Grecian ladies and gentleman. Hallowed names depart the incontinent circle, forgone the synoptical scarlet lettering of name...transcendence. Torrent upon torrent of ambrosia down the throat...skyward runoff of chins...scribbled down the primordial bloom of ****** O sylvan gathering, crowns of laurel graduate thee from materiality...a shuddering beauteousness--broke shafts of light clash lovingly from luminous head to head. Here...the extenuating circumstance of consciousness appropriated quoad sacra.
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21
Dearest John, Whats the point of writing something to you that you will probably never read. if writing nothing to you is the only something I can write?. Whats the point of writing nothing to you if I cant write something to you that's really nothing to you?. Whats the point?. A nightingale singing in the the Lilac bush in my backyard? Is that the point?. saying hear me sing just for you--listener!. A luscious Blackberry swollen with its lifes nectar, dangling insouciantly, singing its song silently-- pick me--crush me in your mouth-- wash your tongue with my sweetness. Is that the point?. A Selmer hand made Alto Clarinet on its stand- daring me to play the melody of the Isness of the Universe just for you? Is that the point?. swooping keening hawk like notes flowing from my very beingness. An empty canvas waiting patiently for medium to be applied. The Chaos of my emptiness crying out to be stirred into the action of your Form. Is that the point?. Or just to say for your ears alone--I Love You!. An unfilled pan needing filling with hen ***** and milk and salt and pepper-- and then flamed into the tasty miracle of scrumbled eggs. Yummy yummy yummy Ive got food in my tummy and everything is gonna be alright. If I tried to write my life down for you would you come to my waiting arms? Would you end this cruel silence? Would you commit a line of meaningful prose to your keyboard just to tell me you love me? But your gone to heaven knows where? Memphis?. Dissapeared into the maw of electronic death. Leaving me bereft of your yourness. No access to your body fluids. No more your flesh to caress. As if I could penetrate the skin of your aloneness and merge into the Isness that keeps molecules of your georgeous beingness together. Walking talking laughing the symphony of life together. Would you listen if I spoke truthfully to you or would you prefer one of the many "truths" of your multiple "religions" or "politics" or "philosophies"?. But as I can only speak truthfully then I guess youll hear but not listen. Wasting your opportunities at Isness realisation as you have done since I,as the Isness of the Universe, brought into being voidness from my own essence with time and materiality--hearing but not listening to the Brownian arpeggios of the rising and falling scales of the music of the spheres. I play my horn of blackwood to the empty rooms of my universe-- accompanied by the booming bass of harmony-- Amazing Grease. India the Corrupted. Moanin and Groanin. Warm as Luke. A Chicken Supreme. Satis-Faction. God Rest Ye Gerry Mandlebaum. The Universe listens. Everyone else hears. I speak. your ears are closed. www.thefournobletruthsrevised.co.uk
0
Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 12:38 AM UTC
mannley-collins
I couldnt write anything to the Isness of the Universe but this
Dearest John, Whats the point of writing something to you that you will probably never read. if writing nothing to you is the only something I can write?. Whats the point of writing nothing to you if I cant write something to you that's really nothing to you?. Whats the point?. A nightingale singing in the the Lilac bush in my backyard? Is that the point?. saying hear me sing just for you--listener!. A luscious Blackberry swollen with its lifes nectar, dangling insouciantly, singing its song silently-- pick me--crush me in your mouth-- wash your tongue with my sweetness. Is that the point?. A Selmer hand made Alto Clarinet on its stand- daring me to play the melody of the Isness of the Universe just for you? Is that the point?. swooping keening hawk like notes flowing from my very beingness. An empty canvas waiting patiently for medium to be applied. The Chaos of my emptiness crying out to be stirred into the action of your Form. Is that the point?. Or just to say for your ears alone--I Love You!. An unfilled pan needing filling with hen ***** and milk and salt and pepper-- and then flamed into the tasty miracle of scrumbled eggs. Yummy yummy yummy Ive got food in my tummy and everything is gonna be alright. If I tried to write my life down for you would you come to my waiting arms? Would you end this cruel silence? Would you commit a line of meaningful prose to your keyboard just to tell me you love me? But your gone to heaven knows where? Memphis?. Dissapeared into the maw of electronic death. Leaving me bereft of your yourness. No access to your body fluids. No more your flesh to caress. As if I could penetrate the skin of your aloneness and merge into the Isness that keeps molecules of your georgeous beingness together. Walking talking laughing the symphony of life together. Would you listen if I spoke truthfully to you or would you prefer one of the many "truths" of your multiple "religions" or "politics" or "philosophies"?. But as I can only speak truthfully then I guess youll hear but not listen. Wasting your opportunities at Isness realisation as you have done since I,as the Isness of the Universe, brought into being voidness from my own essence with time and materiality--hearing but not listening to the Brownian arpeggios of the rising and falling scales of the music of the spheres. I play my horn of blackwood to the empty rooms of my universe-- accompanied by the booming bass of harmony-- Amazing Grease. India the Corrupted. Moanin and Groanin. Warm as Luke. A Chicken Supreme. Satis-Faction. God Rest Ye Gerry Mandlebaum. The Universe listens. Everyone else hears. I speak. your ears are closed. www.thefournobletruthsrevised.co.uk
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72
follow the yellow brick road... The terrible freedom unleashed by typewriters. Condition of complexity judged without criteria. Radical provocations. Urinals and prams. Contingent. Anarchist aesthetic. Not truth nor beauty but freedom. Materiality of language. Multi-hued wheel barrows. A cuttlefish. A crate. A cassowary. A cigarette. A ****** Paratactic order. Particular phrasing. Pulsing pastiche. An infinite conversation without resolution as with the stupid friend who won’t shut up. Ever. A transcendent dialectic based solely on proximity. Ineluctable modality of the near. Only that. Buck it. An unquiet ghost endlessly self-questioning. No answers. Moaning in the meaning. A simple stuttering. Sibilant. Turbulent and unpredictable as waddling wolverines. Words that only mean whatever is seen. Juxtaposition. Dissolving into desired dissonance. The magic chord. Absolute verity in the experience of the fraudulent for the same reason as the ubiquity of toothpaste. The poem as its own universe, complete and whole, fodder for the mind, not balm for the soul.
0
May 3, 2016
May 3, 2016 at 1:21 PM UTC
mike-essig
A Road Map To Modern Poesy
follow the yellow brick road... The terrible freedom unleashed by typewriters. Condition of complexity judged without criteria. Radical provocations. Urinals and prams. Contingent. Anarchist aesthetic. Not truth nor beauty but freedom. Materiality of language. Multi-hued wheel barrows. A cuttlefish. A crate. A cassowary. A cigarette. A ****** Paratactic order. Particular phrasing. Pulsing pastiche. An infinite conversation without resolution as with the stupid friend who won’t shut up. Ever. A transcendent dialectic based solely on proximity. Ineluctable modality of the near. Only that. Buck it. An unquiet ghost endlessly self-questioning. No answers. Moaning in the meaning. A simple stuttering. Sibilant. Turbulent and unpredictable as waddling wolverines. Words that only mean whatever is seen. Juxtaposition. Dissolving into desired dissonance. The magic chord. Absolute verity in the experience of the fraudulent for the same reason as the ubiquity of toothpaste. The poem as its own universe, complete and whole, fodder for the mind, not balm for the soul.
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21
There's a sensation of floating here, diamonds rushing past the corners of our faces. Space is only the distance between two orbiting bodies, two objects who obsessively tug and pull on each other because no one else is around. I see gemstones around me, fortunes in mineral materiality wasting beside us. We do not waste in this space, we may only grow, age, harden but gleam due to the molten hot pressure of countless hands touching pushing grabbing stroking pinching prodding us, stealing and plotting though they pet us nicely, now. We haven't slept, the diamonds shine like miniature suns, being pulled towards the immense contraction of our tentative super massive black holes. White blocks emit light from below, the source of the glow. Night sets in, the stars would be out but there are stars within. After the glow comes the afterglow, permeating all and floating through everything, lifting the pearls and diamonds from our necks and our bodies, stringing them back into space. No one cares about what will become of them, as space is the true richness, the attraction between bodies, the tug and pull of heavenly objects. Let the hands invade you, ravage your riches and your minerals; regardless of them or their ruthlessness you will still glow, you will still glow.
0
Aug 14, 2010
Aug 14, 2010 at 12:07 PM UTC
hands
Distance
There's a sensation of floating here, diamonds rushing past the corners of our faces. Space is only the distance between two orbiting bodies, two objects who obsessively tug and pull on each other because no one else is around. I see gemstones around me, fortunes in mineral materiality wasting beside us. We do not waste in this space, we may only grow, age, harden but gleam due to the molten hot pressure of countless hands touching pushing grabbing stroking pinching prodding us, stealing and plotting though they pet us nicely, now. We haven't slept, the diamonds shine like miniature suns, being pulled towards the immense contraction of our tentative super massive black holes. White blocks emit light from below, the source of the glow. Night sets in, the stars would be out but there are stars within. After the glow comes the afterglow, permeating all and floating through everything, lifting the pearls and diamonds from our necks and our bodies, stringing them back into space. No one cares about what will become of them, as space is the true richness, the attraction between bodies, the tug and pull of heavenly objects. Let the hands invade you, ravage your riches and your minerals; regardless of them or their ruthlessness you will still glow, you will still glow.
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97
When we are sick Our body suddenly appears as a conscience Creating unease and pain A burden uncontrollable yet much thought about The realization of its materiality And the existence of the physical becomes more clearer The mind and body separates into a two winged subject As both separate and intimate existence One that depends on the other and vice versa This new rythmic thoughts go on. A body, a presence is felt for the first time.
0
Jan 27, 2016
Jan 27, 2016 at 10:38 AM UTC
jasmine-fernandez
Think body?
When we are sick Our body suddenly appears as a conscience Creating unease and pain A burden uncontrollable yet much thought about The realization of its materiality And the existence of the physical becomes more clearer The mind and body separates into a two winged subject As both separate and intimate existence One that depends on the other and vice versa This new rythmic thoughts go on. A body, a presence is felt for the first time.
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12
"The most exquisite face wrinkles and droops with age Roses too must wither, mocking man's desire for any eternal beauty in materiality Death will destroy the buds of youth, Cataclysms will demolish the grandeurs of this earth But nothing can destroy the splendor of the astral cosmos" Many forms, but crystalline perfection; Mystics pine, on the meaning of raging storms; In lieu of real connection. We can Appreciate the beauty that is laid before. Before our time, and we veer Without axis, & detached from direction.
0
Jul 31, 2023
Jul 31, 2023 at 8:28 PM UTC
manx-kronos-pragna
Whitley
"The most exquisite face wrinkles and droops with age Roses too must wither, mocking man's desire for any eternal beauty in materiality Death will destroy the buds of youth, Cataclysms will demolish the grandeurs of this earth But nothing can destroy the splendor of the astral cosmos" Many forms, but crystalline perfection; Mystics pine, on the meaning of raging storms; In lieu of real connection. We can Appreciate the beauty that is laid before. Before our time, and we veer Without axis, & detached from direction.
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10
Investors need to stop treating stocks as a ‘beauty contest’ and follow the difficult investment style of Keynes, global pension expert Keith Ambachtsheer said. Data produced in a working paper from the Harvard Business Schoolshowed that portfolios built on firms with a good material sustainability rating outperformed those that had a poor rating, an aspect not considered enough by investors who were caught up with quarterly returns, Ambachtsheer said at a Chartered Financial Analyst seminar in Sydney on Monday. “What I see happening out there is largely speculation – what Keynes called ‘beauty contest investing’, where everybody tries to figure out what the most popular stocks are going to be in six months, buys them and when they become really popular sells them,” Ambachtsheer said. He added the implications of this investment style as an aggregate was a zero sum game, whereas investing should be taking savings and turning them into wealth producing capital. “The key thing is you need to look beyond the next quarter; you look at the long-term sustainability of the business model of the corporation, as well as the people behind it in terms of how it is being managed.” The Harvard Business School (HBS) working paper superimposed the Sustainability Accounting Standards Board materiality map (which identifies likely material sustainability issues on an industry-by-industry basis) onto 400 common US stocks identified through sustainability metrics from Kinder, Lydenberg, Domini Research & Analytics. They examined what effect materiality would have over the long-term (starting from the 1980s) and found the top 10 per cent of firms that scored strongly on material sustainability outperformed the bottom 10 per cent, by nine per cent over a rolling twenty-year period. “The practical question is, can you actually manage money this way in the real world? And the answer is yes, but it’s very hard, because you are doing unconventional things,” Ambachtsheer said. Real-world Keynesianism investors – such as Warren Buffett and the Ontario Teachers’ Pension Plan – are in a minority despite outperforming over the long-term. In chapter 12 of his seminal workThe General Theory of Employment, Interest and Money, Keynes explained the reason for this was the essence of long-term investors meant their behaviour would be eccentric, unconventional and rash in the eyes of average opinion. “Most organisations can’t function like this,” Ambachtsheer said, as they were too focused on the present.Read more at:www.marieaustralia.com/vintage-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/backless-formal-dresses
0
Nov 15, 2016
Nov 15, 2016 at 2:31 AM UTC
judy-smith
Stop ‘beauty contest’ and act like Keynes
Investors need to stop treating stocks as a ‘beauty contest’ and follow the difficult investment style of Keynes, global pension expert Keith Ambachtsheer said. Data produced in a working paper from the Harvard Business Schoolshowed that portfolios built on firms with a good material sustainability rating outperformed those that had a poor rating, an aspect not considered enough by investors who were caught up with quarterly returns, Ambachtsheer said at a Chartered Financial Analyst seminar in Sydney on Monday. “What I see happening out there is largely speculation – what Keynes called ‘beauty contest investing’, where everybody tries to figure out what the most popular stocks are going to be in six months, buys them and when they become really popular sells them,” Ambachtsheer said. He added the implications of this investment style as an aggregate was a zero sum game, whereas investing should be taking savings and turning them into wealth producing capital. “The key thing is you need to look beyond the next quarter; you look at the long-term sustainability of the business model of the corporation, as well as the people behind it in terms of how it is being managed.” The Harvard Business School (HBS) working paper superimposed the Sustainability Accounting Standards Board materiality map (which identifies likely material sustainability issues on an industry-by-industry basis) onto 400 common US stocks identified through sustainability metrics from Kinder, Lydenberg, Domini Research & Analytics. They examined what effect materiality would have over the long-term (starting from the 1980s) and found the top 10 per cent of firms that scored strongly on material sustainability outperformed the bottom 10 per cent, by nine per cent over a rolling twenty-year period. “The practical question is, can you actually manage money this way in the real world? And the answer is yes, but it’s very hard, because you are doing unconventional things,” Ambachtsheer said. Real-world Keynesianism investors – such as Warren Buffett and the Ontario Teachers’ Pension Plan – are in a minority despite outperforming over the long-term. In chapter 12 of his seminal workThe General Theory of Employment, Interest and Money, Keynes explained the reason for this was the essence of long-term investors meant their behaviour would be eccentric, unconventional and rash in the eyes of average opinion. “Most organisations can’t function like this,” Ambachtsheer said, as they were too focused on the present.Read more at:www.marieaustralia.com/vintage-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/backless-formal-dresses
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10
In one dreadful winter night I awoke and found the Truth The self in me died And the duality melt To synchronize To become The I. Now I am the Absolute The really Real Earlier... I was a 'being' A myopic over-bent A creature of false crisis Of Hamletian dilemmas Of Ramusian dualism Caught up in the concentric circles I was one.... Spirited into myriad forms Of love and lust, Of desire and appetite. A pilgrim sojourning into the endless night Purblind by the dazing mirages. I lost my way In the eternity of illusion Materiality held me Time bound me At the dead-end of my experience In the flash-back of my awareness I delved into the I And found myself in the Edenic Garden Rejoicing in the celestial music.
0
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 5:44 AM UTC
krishnapachegonkar
Song of the Self
In one dreadful winter night I awoke and found the Truth The self in me died And the duality melt To synchronize To become The I. Now I am the Absolute The really Real Earlier... I was a 'being' A myopic over-bent A creature of false crisis Of Hamletian dilemmas Of Ramusian dualism Caught up in the concentric circles I was one.... Spirited into myriad forms Of love and lust, Of desire and appetite. A pilgrim sojourning into the endless night Purblind by the dazing mirages. I lost my way In the eternity of illusion Materiality held me Time bound me At the dead-end of my experience In the flash-back of my awareness I delved into the I And found myself in the Edenic Garden Rejoicing in the celestial music.
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31
An illusory world filled with clocks Isolated palaces with circular rose windows Made of cement and broken mirrors Encased around neat rows of mental blocks Genetically modified organisms Clothed in veils of materiality Caged in artificial environments Looking at life through glass prisms A flaw in the design has been proven A shimmering mirage of ambiguity Shards of shattered perceptions What the hell are we doing?
0
Aug 4, 2015
Aug 4, 2015 at 10:05 PM UTC
rebecca-joyp5
Existential Crisis
An illusory world filled with clocks Isolated palaces with circular rose windows Made of cement and broken mirrors Encased around neat rows of mental blocks Genetically modified organisms Clothed in veils of materiality Caged in artificial environments Looking at life through glass prisms A flaw in the design has been proven A shimmering mirage of ambiguity Shards of shattered perceptions What the hell are we doing?
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12
Esteem of reflection billowing up whenever one puff fades. Day in, day out. Pass in, pass out. Staring off into space, am I getting better at geometry? Looking into the line of nowhere. Physical lines may just happen to converge with this. Darkness may happen to eclipse it. A point happens to be on it. A light happens to shine therein. Lines may also conflict with it. Colors may not align with it. Conglomerations may exist there without any congruence. People happen upon it. Muscles and nerve endings traverse it. Needs cross its consciousness. Predictions cross over it too. Some ideas are superseded here. The esteem of reflection scans all areas: physical, emotional, and mental. The internal image is destroyed, or ground to dust. Sounds are implanted upon it. An imaginary self-concept is manifested on it. The cycle of new crossings re-circulates. Like this whole poem only affected my knowledge and not reality. I sit up. My body is placed on this line. Like it is on stage acting for this line. Cleanliness and neatness cross it. The esteem of reflection takes on the form of part of my body. I lay back down. The self-concept reiterates itself. As if my body's forms must assert themselves. Afraid to look at bold symbols. Afraid to act like I touch the things in this room. A sense of shared humanity is spit out by my head. I am the weak and selfish one. Not esteeming another. Only esteeming me and my reflection. Not sharing a room. Like I'm pulling down and in. With my head in the sand. I consider knowledge that isn't directly observed as secondary. And I don't mean observed in a book. This self-concept becomes the center which organizes the things that cross the line of nowhere. It is the best comparison to my physical self, yet a figment of my imagination. It is shaped more by attention than by materiality. It's funny how anointing is at once a rising over and a descending. Yet it cannot fully transform my mind. For even this blessing crosses the line of nowhere. And the esteem of reflection rises above it. But when the line of nowhere becomes the self-concept then the mind is fully transformed. The esteem of reflection would have equality with the self-concept.
0
Jan 30, 2021
Jan 30, 2021 at 1:49 AM UTC
ChadYoung
Esteem of reflection and the line of nowhere
Esteem of reflection billowing up whenever one puff fades. Day in, day out. Pass in, pass out. Staring off into space, am I getting better at geometry? Looking into the line of nowhere. Physical lines may just happen to converge with this. Darkness may happen to eclipse it. A point happens to be on it. A light happens to shine therein. Lines may also conflict with it. Colors may not align with it. Conglomerations may exist there without any congruence. People happen upon it. Muscles and nerve endings traverse it. Needs cross its consciousness. Predictions cross over it too. Some ideas are superseded here. The esteem of reflection scans all areas: physical, emotional, and mental. The internal image is destroyed, or ground to dust. Sounds are implanted upon it. An imaginary self-concept is manifested on it. The cycle of new crossings re-circulates. Like this whole poem only affected my knowledge and not reality. I sit up. My body is placed on this line. Like it is on stage acting for this line. Cleanliness and neatness cross it. The esteem of reflection takes on the form of part of my body. I lay back down. The self-concept reiterates itself. As if my body's forms must assert themselves. Afraid to look at bold symbols. Afraid to act like I touch the things in this room. A sense of shared humanity is spit out by my head. I am the weak and selfish one. Not esteeming another. Only esteeming me and my reflection. Not sharing a room. Like I'm pulling down and in. With my head in the sand. I consider knowledge that isn't directly observed as secondary. And I don't mean observed in a book. This self-concept becomes the center which organizes the things that cross the line of nowhere. It is the best comparison to my physical self, yet a figment of my imagination. It is shaped more by attention than by materiality. It's funny how anointing is at once a rising over and a descending. Yet it cannot fully transform my mind. For even this blessing crosses the line of nowhere. And the esteem of reflection rises above it. But when the line of nowhere becomes the self-concept then the mind is fully transformed. The esteem of reflection would have equality with the self-concept.
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51
Hot /cold, light/thin light fact fact fact nothing is real so? I think I am real, these words and the thoughts they embody, agree with me. If you exist, dear reader, my materiality no longer matters. Distant spooky, geistlich, action at this distance. Now, you choose do/don't muse/amuse the infection is finished. the walls did fall, the one that's left is not a wall, it's a dam holding back a pushed pile of dirt being pushed to flat, eventually crashing as waves do, in harmony with electro-magneto power systems, urging us past dread guilt lust rage powerlessness urging us past innocent repulsions into ignoring the mob madness pushing us past the peace place truths change? who imagined that the penmen we may not mention were magi, in practice. liars, do liars have a value button? Wachowskis, what do we think? Ruth or ruthless? Symbolic Truth of false, a message, a lesson you paid attention to come this far to learn next and more are not at war and never were.
0
Oct 22, 2018
Oct 22, 2018 at 8:14 PM UTC
kenpepiton
Convectional argumentation
Hot /cold, light/thin light fact fact fact nothing is real so? I think I am real, these words and the thoughts they embody, agree with me. If you exist, dear reader, my materiality no longer matters. Distant spooky, geistlich, action at this distance. Now, you choose do/don't muse/amuse the infection is finished. the walls did fall, the one that's left is not a wall, it's a dam holding back a pushed pile of dirt being pushed to flat, eventually crashing as waves do, in harmony with electro-magneto power systems, urging us past dread guilt lust rage powerlessness urging us past innocent repulsions into ignoring the mob madness pushing us past the peace place truths change? who imagined that the penmen we may not mention were magi, in practice. liars, do liars have a value button? Wachowskis, what do we think? Ruth or ruthless? Symbolic Truth of false, a message, a lesson you paid attention to come this far to learn next and more are not at war and never were.
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27
(Softly now TRUTH COMES OUT) ••• In the Winnebago dream The long country road Stretches beyond lifetimes and finds YOU doing what must be done •• --------Got a god Or goddess Now?---------- ____ What is it You truly are? •• The Story rises in the dark night! The road ends where you've never been before SONGS OF DEATH AND TRAGEDY Mingle with an UNERRING SENSE of THE UNIVERSE'S INNOCENCE ••• (Softly now The Truth comes out) --------- The Rain comes and washes clean All the stories we contrive We try to simplify our lives We only clutter up our minds With weakness that we glorify ••• Let the magic overwhelm Ride the Winnebago dream What DAWN IS? We don't know We write our foolish poetry Of pettiness of LOVE AFFAIRS written within our loveless pain Our solitary prisoning Within our body and materiality ••• We fear to simple DRIFT AWAY We don't know where the long road leads We fear to face the ACTUAL DAWN of a TOMORROW living on its own •• Never born Always here We do what we do and the tale is told
0
Oct 26, 2013
Oct 26, 2013 at 2:53 PM UTC
jeffrey-robin
Rambling robin
(Softly now TRUTH COMES OUT) ••• In the Winnebago dream The long country road Stretches beyond lifetimes and finds YOU doing what must be done •• --------Got a god Or goddess Now?---------- ____ What is it You truly are? •• The Story rises in the dark night! The road ends where you've never been before SONGS OF DEATH AND TRAGEDY Mingle with an UNERRING SENSE of THE UNIVERSE'S INNOCENCE ••• (Softly now The Truth comes out) --------- The Rain comes and washes clean All the stories we contrive We try to simplify our lives We only clutter up our minds With weakness that we glorify ••• Let the magic overwhelm Ride the Winnebago dream What DAWN IS? We don't know We write our foolish poetry Of pettiness of LOVE AFFAIRS written within our loveless pain Our solitary prisoning Within our body and materiality ••• We fear to simple DRIFT AWAY We don't know where the long road leads We fear to face the ACTUAL DAWN of a TOMORROW living on its own •• Never born Always here We do what we do and the tale is told
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50
Think nothing of water which percolates, Liquid evaporates. Such are the forms trapped within themselves, Meaningless rotes. By formlessness corporeal, But with materiality intangible. Forlorn immolation; Condensates re-saturate, only different. Incongruent crystallization; And they say there is change! By factors invariant, But with sums nonconstant. A laugh is a laugh, verbalized or written - It's still the same fundamentally. Tears are tears, dribbled or scribbled - It's still the same in essentiality. By elements unproposed, But with totalities nonexistent.
0
May 23, 2025
May 23, 2025 at 2:49 AM UTC
manx-kronos-pragna
A Fella Named Doctrine, Monroe; On & By The Basis Of The Individual
Think nothing of water which percolates, Liquid evaporates. Such are the forms trapped within themselves, Meaningless rotes. By formlessness corporeal, But with materiality intangible. Forlorn immolation; Condensates re-saturate, only different. Incongruent crystallization; And they say there is change! By factors invariant, But with sums nonconstant. A laugh is a laugh, verbalized or written - It's still the same fundamentally. Tears are tears, dribbled or scribbled - It's still the same in essentiality. By elements unproposed, But with totalities nonexistent.
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18
We rearranged matter with our minds, We made our children our home, There's no singularity, No negative vibes, No distance between us, Just a dream as we walk in the light, Immortal; yet entangled in our dark material world, There's infinite time to learn and move on, We can't hold the matter in our hands, or our hearts, Fear and materiality is not the true reality. Let it go!
0
Feb 15, 2021
Feb 15, 2021 at 4:42 PM UTC
Purcy
Children of the light.
We rearranged matter with our minds, We made our children our home, There's no singularity, No negative vibes, No distance between us, Just a dream as we walk in the light, Immortal; yet entangled in our dark material world, There's infinite time to learn and move on, We can't hold the matter in our hands, or our hearts, Fear and materiality is not the true reality. Let it go!
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11
obsequious bitterness cawed of your hallowed mask take 5 steps and disappear cakes in the oven, save for the life after next, save, footsteps, tinnitus ring, records and mulch everyone cowers   at the wasp on the bus that's passed unnoticed on the open street uneasy orbits of flight   inchoate rage bashing its head against the windows radicalization of blind corners spectacle of death coil and frisk how miserable how unfortunate how tragic how mindless how unthinkable how predictable how impossible how  urgent how hopeless how uncomfortable how tongue severed tie the centre expands, ossifies, swallows and dissolves best leave the dead to speak for themselves, they've history on their side   after all inflected bias in silent tears if only  i could drown the whole world in melancholy siren wail    nervous tinder and pike buzz and clutter everyone   waves their arms in discomfort, but otherwise sits still the irrefutable materiality of inertia the bus drives on
0
Apr 17, 2019
Apr 17, 2019 at 1:38 AM UTC
abloobloobloo
to those
obsequious bitterness cawed of your hallowed mask take 5 steps and disappear cakes in the oven, save for the life after next, save, footsteps, tinnitus ring, records and mulch everyone cowers   at the wasp on the bus that's passed unnoticed on the open street uneasy orbits of flight   inchoate rage bashing its head against the windows radicalization of blind corners spectacle of death coil and frisk how miserable how unfortunate how tragic how mindless how unthinkable how predictable how impossible how  urgent how hopeless how uncomfortable how tongue severed tie the centre expands, ossifies, swallows and dissolves best leave the dead to speak for themselves, they've history on their side   after all inflected bias in silent tears if only  i could drown the whole world in melancholy siren wail    nervous tinder and pike buzz and clutter everyone   waves their arms in discomfort, but otherwise sits still the irrefutable materiality of inertia the bus drives on
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36
First and Last impression foisted a revelatory sheath that is the looking glass of all incarnation. Revelatory sheath Facing both ends of the whited tunnel... prior to birth when exiting...upon death when entering. What was, is, will be Faced...prelude to the sound of silence...that is the mouth of the nameless called by Name. White pearls that spun their shells, as dilating eyes that behold self in no-self. Space fatigued by perfect stillness...self in no-self, suspended animation...whose mind is allotted infinite motion. The Original Face...whore features insure paradox...must be worn and beheld Wholly...lest a chaotic incoherence whorls... irregardless of the image of self...imageless no-self. If Pure Consciousness had a Face--divested of its Way through materiality, to melt by that which it cannot transcend...how would it appear? *"Original Face" is a Zen terminology referring to our face before we incarnated.
0
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 11:30 AM UTC
Onoma
Original Face
First and Last impression foisted a revelatory sheath that is the looking glass of all incarnation. Revelatory sheath Facing both ends of the whited tunnel... prior to birth when exiting...upon death when entering. What was, is, will be Faced...prelude to the sound of silence...that is the mouth of the nameless called by Name. White pearls that spun their shells, as dilating eyes that behold self in no-self. Space fatigued by perfect stillness...self in no-self, suspended animation...whose mind is allotted infinite motion. The Original Face...whore features insure paradox...must be worn and beheld Wholly...lest a chaotic incoherence whorls... irregardless of the image of self...imageless no-self. If Pure Consciousness had a Face--divested of its Way through materiality, to melt by that which it cannot transcend...how would it appear? *"Original Face" is a Zen terminology referring to our face before we incarnated.
Continue reading...
17