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Monthly Archives: November 2011

On my walk back home
I am greeted by a friend
a bug by the name of “lady”.

From my shorts to my hand
over the hair on my arm:
she travels up to greet me.

I smile at her splendor
and wonder about the life she was given.

From my arm to my hand
to the wind and gone again.

Happiness is mine to have crossed
paths with such beauty;
to have shared a moment of life.

 

solitudinus

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In the land of the eternal moon
all are copies and nothing is real

through this cold hard
surface I cant feel you.
your reflection is a
stabbing without end.
and I am left naked,
crumbling, before you.
the steps are lit to my soul
and you no longer walk them.

as I reach for you
I find an image;
a shell of aloofness
keeping me just out of bounds
just outside your perimeter

In a flash I know
your weighing the odds
deciding to open or close.
and what you do
makes me want solitude.
I will not have a border
my depths will remain open

What more can I say?

I want to experience who you are
to share myself with you
to feel and touch you
to carress and kiss you
to bathe in your taste
to float in your scent

when will the reflective walls be broken
so the true light can shine through?

I dont want this pale light tonight
I want your solar sight

In the land of the eternal moon
all are copies and nothing is real

 

solitudinus

Knowing that you know nothing is the first and most important step. It is a way of Being that allows for the understanding that all knowing/thinking is a knowing or thinking of something. And therefore thinking/knowledge is secondary. Since the thing-it-self is first of all and therefore more than a mere thinking about/of something. This is to say:

All knowledge is already bound up within a certain context or frame and therefore only exists as it is within that frame/context.

As Nietzsche might say: “God is the error of man”. And this is to say that to hold a mere word/description over and above the thing-it-self is tantamount to insanity. An example of this is The Book of Job. He wasn’t satisfied with what his friends were satisfied with; merely words and descriptions of what God is and so he, in a sense, transcended the common description/knowledge of God and came into the full presence of the Cosmic Spirit itself. This however points to something deeper, what we might call the irony of life and truth; that while we need the word to communicate and get things done the word itself, when held onto too tightly becomes untrue: the exact opposite of what it was originally meant to be. I like to say it this way: “Truth leads to untruth, untruth leads to truth.”

And so, if understood, the real problem becomes how do I, who now understands both the lowliness and height of words/language use language to communicate something that can’t really be communicated without it being sullied by my subjectivity and yet must be. And yet it is my subjectivity, in the form of creativity, that gives these mere words, which if they are the truth do not come from me but merely through me, their ability to cut through and past our subjective opinions/prejudices and bring to light the objective simplicity of what Is beyond all petty¬†sentimentality.

solitudinus