Caustic consequences
Sequence initiated.
What! With only a whisper are we lured us into acquiescence.
But surely it is all but a game.
Zero, nine, eight, seven, zero, nine, four.
A roll of the dice.
What really did we humans do –
to force time into retreat?
A sea of darkness
There was no reference point,
as I looked around – nothing to see, to feel, to smell,
nothing but thoughts without matter.
In perpetual motion.
An ocean of silence in a sea of gray.
As a void slices, suddenly, through a crack in the sky.
Split like a seam, in a moment of birth.
Critical juncture
I am millions of years old and broken beyond measure,
imploding, transmuting, shifting into a state
of non-definition and delirious despair.
Misery fights for control, tearing me in two,
between past and future –
between what I am
and what so many must endure;
such a prolonged, deplorable existence,
forcing their hand with what little there is –
all at the expense of mere numbers.
Not that anything is easy.
Many of the brightest have thought it through,
and thought they had it figured out,
even without proof
even without correspondence,
with formulas far removed from reality.
Like bees to pollen, the theoretical, the speculative,
the string-laden phenomenon in
league with faith and absolutism
of a thousand transcendent varieties
comes loaded with half-truths
and a bevy of broken neurons,
to give us anything and everything
to avert the pain of uncertainty.
Cause and defect
– external sensory collection –
– biological-based genetic data –
– hierarchical mechanisms of storage –
– the manifestation of time –
– emotion to mood to attitude –
– intuition and sensing –
– a synthesis of biological and psychological movements –
– urges to desires to a need for structure –
– logic to reason –
– self-awareness to consciousness –
– to universal awareness –
– equilibrium to despair –
– anger to reconstruction –
– struggle to seclusion –
– meaning to knowledge –
– acceptance to tranquility –
– growth to transference –
Trust and decay
There should be. There ought to be.
There must be –
because comprehensive reality includes subtleties,
possibilities, worlds beyond perception –
gradients of matter stealthily occupying
the same earthly space
light years beyond recognition.
Abstraction or substance?
If every effect has a cause,
where's the tie between nothing and something?
Where's the link between body and mind,
between the real and the unreal,
between matter and non-matter?
Do objects ever touch?
Unseen forces have you feeling in the dark –
ripping, tearing, shredding the tiniest
morsel of knowledge –
inverting and flipping and reshaping
the obvious until its true nature is
effectively obscured.
You want to believe.
It feels good to believe.
We will make you believe.
You will believe.
In a world of restriction,
the socially dominant live for supremacy –
fragmenting and reforming themselves
until group control is assured.
The lies are true.
Trust us.
The contradictions are fabricated –
shameful insecurities bred in obscurity.
You have a duty to trash your tired imperatives –
wrapped as they are like wire around your soul.
A universe of gray
Strange it was.
Like the mind.
Bigger on the inside than it was on the outside
We surmised it was related to balance,
perplexed by the infinite nature of it all.
Our minds it turns out were the strangest things of all.
Were we making things too complex, or too simple?
Where was the bedrock?
Why can we not immediately turn that which is
within our minds into material reality?
Imprisoned we are by the forces of the inanimate,
by the unknown and untouchable.
We observe patterns and shapes and centers
and breaks and cycles and borders and arrows
and sheets and spheres
and every possible synthesis in between.
We observe recurrent processes and phenomenon.
A complexity of emotions and drives and disassociation –
from fears to heartaches to love –
coursing through our veins, beyond our conscious awareness
We fasten our beliefs on unsighted faith and presupposition.
We make it so by redefining the nature of evidence.
We call everything matter or everything mind
– complementary but independent.
Do we really know what's real?
Are we not but conglomerates?
Relationships in search of a structure.
Compounds tethered to elementary forces
a thousand times more complex
and profound than we can imagine.
Phenomenally frail creatures
with small minds and big delusions.
We feel the edges. We touch a whisper.
We think we know it all.
Absolutes. Infinity. Morality.
Disingenuous desperation.
Assume – extend – believe – demand – conform
Can no one see – the depth, the ingrained elements,
the core in humanity that changes only by chance?
That idolizes then repeats? Ad infinitum.
What! With only a whisper are we lured us into acquiescence.
But surely it is all but a game.
Zero, nine, eight, seven, zero, nine, four.
A roll of the dice.
What really did we humans do –
to force time into retreat?
A sea of darkness
There was no reference point,
as I looked around – nothing to see, to feel, to smell,
nothing but thoughts without matter.
In perpetual motion.
An ocean of silence in a sea of gray.
As a void slices, suddenly, through a crack in the sky.
Split like a seam, in a moment of birth.
Critical juncture
I am millions of years old and broken beyond measure,
imploding, transmuting, shifting into a state
of non-definition and delirious despair.
Misery fights for control, tearing me in two,
between past and future –
between what I am
and what so many must endure;
such a prolonged, deplorable existence,
forcing their hand with what little there is –
all at the expense of mere numbers.
Not that anything is easy.
Many of the brightest have thought it through,
and thought they had it figured out,
even without proof
even without correspondence,
with formulas far removed from reality.
Like bees to pollen, the theoretical, the speculative,
the string-laden phenomenon in
league with faith and absolutism
of a thousand transcendent varieties
comes loaded with half-truths
and a bevy of broken neurons,
to give us anything and everything
to avert the pain of uncertainty.
Cause and defect
– external sensory collection –
– biological-based genetic data –
– hierarchical mechanisms of storage –
– the manifestation of time –
– emotion to mood to attitude –
– intuition and sensing –
– a synthesis of biological and psychological movements –
– urges to desires to a need for structure –
– logic to reason –
– self-awareness to consciousness –
– to universal awareness –
– equilibrium to despair –
– anger to reconstruction –
– struggle to seclusion –
– meaning to knowledge –
– acceptance to tranquility –
– growth to transference –
Trust and decay
There should be. There ought to be.
There must be –
because comprehensive reality includes subtleties,
possibilities, worlds beyond perception –
gradients of matter stealthily occupying
the same earthly space
light years beyond recognition.
Abstraction or substance?
If every effect has a cause,
where's the tie between nothing and something?
Where's the link between body and mind,
between the real and the unreal,
between matter and non-matter?
Do objects ever touch?
Unseen forces have you feeling in the dark –
ripping, tearing, shredding the tiniest
morsel of knowledge –
inverting and flipping and reshaping
the obvious until its true nature is
effectively obscured.
You want to believe.
It feels good to believe.
We will make you believe.
You will believe.
In a world of restriction,
the socially dominant live for supremacy –
fragmenting and reforming themselves
until group control is assured.
The lies are true.
Trust us.
The contradictions are fabricated –
shameful insecurities bred in obscurity.
You have a duty to trash your tired imperatives –
wrapped as they are like wire around your soul.
A universe of gray
Strange it was.
Like the mind.
Bigger on the inside than it was on the outside
We surmised it was related to balance,
perplexed by the infinite nature of it all.
Our minds it turns out were the strangest things of all.
Were we making things too complex, or too simple?
Where was the bedrock?
Why can we not immediately turn that which is
within our minds into material reality?
Imprisoned we are by the forces of the inanimate,
by the unknown and untouchable.
We observe patterns and shapes and centers
and breaks and cycles and borders and arrows
and sheets and spheres
and every possible synthesis in between.
We observe recurrent processes and phenomenon.
A complexity of emotions and drives and disassociation –
from fears to heartaches to love –
coursing through our veins, beyond our conscious awareness
We fasten our beliefs on unsighted faith and presupposition.
We make it so by redefining the nature of evidence.
We call everything matter or everything mind
– complementary but independent.
Do we really know what's real?
Are we not but conglomerates?
Relationships in search of a structure.
Compounds tethered to elementary forces
a thousand times more complex
and profound than we can imagine.
Phenomenally frail creatures
with small minds and big delusions.
We feel the edges. We touch a whisper.
We think we know it all.
Absolutes. Infinity. Morality.
Disingenuous desperation.
Assume – extend – believe – demand – conform
Can no one see – the depth, the ingrained elements,
the core in humanity that changes only by chance?
That idolizes then repeats? Ad infinitum.