Orgamanage

it would seem my words come

when thoughts echo in time

of what is a handful of air

gathering these in the breeze

living life like the trees sway

with a fire deep under us all

some crawl free in the dirt

like farmers and their tools

like rulers and their weapons

madness in familiar song

hate is not a thought had

having feelings like leaves

after seeing the past lives

staring at the future sun

belief has made blind lions

fear in the eye of a storm

love in a time of giving

lying in lines to be kings

reaction without meaning

culture without symbols

religions without consent 

a temple becomes capitol 

a moon worshiped in darkness

a statue created for a monster

swimming in clothes

naked in the stormy sea

surviving building boats 

what we feel is law

what we feel is art

what we feel is worthy

if you find a penny there

can you pick it up and stare

would you spend it anywhere

weighing every tired soul

valued when owned

ignored when left alone

swinging fists for ghosts 

what seems to find one 

a sight of enemy found

hating anything in memory

wandering island in night

what then wakes one found

when sorrow is a poem

and life is sung aloud

are these sides to a coin

shadows in the temple

sermons on the mount

are these sides to a coin

sheep surrounded by wolves

wolves surrounded by bears

bears surrounded by men

men surrounded by angels

angels surrounded by heaven

heaven surrounded by darkness 

A Cup In A Waterfall

Logic will do to chaos what spirit does to warlords. Considering that if their debates were instantaneously turned into a game show they'd all be sent home early.

It's my belief that dark matter is the water, and the big bang is just a bubble of light matter on the surface of our omniverse pool, that would be just about big enough to make us small enuf to witness a blackhole as the invisible gravity that pulls against the smallest states of matter, and that we're inside the atom, and viewing it simultaneously -- and I'm still kinda loving the idea that black holes are the byproduct of really fast space vehicles and we just lack a complete picture of how space and time work. 

Hell the idea that the deep has little between worlds it's not much different from society. The middle ground of space and time, I kept thinking until I was thinking. I kept listening until I was listening. 

Two enemies in the light and truth, the scarcities of reason, the scarcities of resources, and in that act, being the enemies until they were enemies. It seems disturbing to peace and long life that two worlds would be one war. Needless to say that the cost of your own ranks means you weren't meant to lead them. 

Now onto the ones afraid of laughter and standing. The subject, in the old sense of the word a person is subject to rule from another, would be forced to joke until the warlord laffs. The warlord, would have to stand and find something entertaining. One learns to speak to fight, one learns to fight to speak. 

There is a fun game of words called Improvement. Two warlords sat drinking tea, in a monastery far from their homes. They decided to discuss the shadow downhill until they could truly be discussing the shadow. Then decided to discuss the growing grass until they could truly be discussing the grass. The name is the rule, improvement, and serves as the basis of conversation. In order to be wise enuf to debate or conversate, they made rules against disagreeing. Only statements of perception, this improves communication -- and only questions, this improves perception. 

One very much loved shade and all shadows, and the other very much loved grass. 

Blades of grass grow in light. 

Blades of grass grow in light making shadow. 

Shadow of night lets grasses cool. 

Shadow of night lets grasses cool while they wait for the sun. 

They argued and argued for twenty days, but in the spirit of improvement, so that their armies wouldn't fight until they were just fighting, so their armies wouldn't die until they were just dying, the two philosophers never got emotional. 

Understanding they are very much two different people. 

Understanding they are very much two different people, with important different perceptions. 

There we are, left to understand that the two philosophers found a fusional goal, the way fog surrounds what we can see, and covers what we can't see. Our memory is synthetic, not a photograph. This risk of passing bad analytics, or bad logic, we can pass to ourselves. Analyzing sometimes takes the form of doubt, the way fog also reveals nothing. So it is, the vague image of peace had to be held in their focus until the fog lifted when they could truly have peace. 

Words have power and shouldn't be wasted until they are truly wasted. Your memory is a cup in a waterfall. Learn to learn, drink good memory until you can drink the river of time. Toss bad memory until you can fill the space. 

A blade of grass does not steal the light any more than a brilliant star steal darkness. And when a star dies, the other stars don't share thr light, they become one, as they shine until, they are shining. As two, as one. It is that nature is the governing principle that we should strive to be natural, not at each others throats. If you all need to collectively worldwide meditate maybe you should try something easier first, like tea or waterfalls, instead of blades and darkness. 

There will be time and space for that until there is only time and space. 

Earthrise

A dream during sleep is only a moment, but decompresses until you wake up and installs until you sleep again.

The fantasy created by the endless potential of the mind, in a moment shorter than any other moment, a reflection of the infinite, a remnant of the collapse of existence into a single moment exploding when colliding with another dimension.

The capacity for eternal salvation reduced to its own ash dispersed infinitesimally across the endless void, rare and profound only incomplete and destroyed, taken in large breath of the human imagination unable to consume the iota of the big bang, and taken into the primal psyche.

Unfathomable power confined in unexplored dimensions unconceivable by the awakened and unattainable by the living, is trapped by those that dream as a confusing source of immortality.

The gateway of the mind, holding onto the knowledge of this entity and where the dreamer exists, must take that from the ethereal plain into the fledgeling nightmarish landscape of our memory while in the dream state.

For that is a task best perceived with time going backwards and reality abandoned, confronting ourselves at the gates of the many worlds of life across the omniverse, without distraction of known things nor loss of inimicable knowledge.

A dreamlike seed, which holds comparative knowledge of complex code to simply germinate, whose form changes countless times, when single task takes its true form, what reincarnation simply aspires found in total reincarnation.

From the realm of the unknown, into the domain of the undiscovered, until the new reality consumes all controls of sanity in recreating invariable power while consuming all opposing forces, as we feed the roots of our imagination.

Becoming an element of the dream equation, as astral projections of our own shadows across the brightest lights of stars and synaptic energy, naming the objects of the dream world with hallucinogenic skills as the young of the event horizon.

Then we must wake, and carry with us this memory, of a vanishing landscape from an indecipherable program unbound by reality itself, as if breathing the restless universe to heal eternity.





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