surging from the nest of mites in the
nested bent bough of the milky firmament,
comes the collective aid of
an unconscious unity,
unconscious insofar as it is without self,
belonging within us all;
a cosmic bodhi-branch, a vein,
a meridian.
snakes carry ladders
as we rise and fall;
zenith & nadir,
the necessary circle, we spin in a
material vortex,
limbs are boughs
you are I
we are, as we are not.
your simian obsession
we breath ; I&I;
chokes & vibrations, a relative sense;
I & I ; I & I;
sense & senses
no ego-mind; no-mind
exercise spontaneous caprice beneath
all conceptual, rational, linguistic
FRAMEWORKS
NO NAME-WORKS; NO SAME-LURKS;
LASH-OUT-INTO-THE-ETHER-OF-ALL-ONE-MINDED NO-MIND WHICH REACTS IN ITS ACTION
cause and effect only makes sense in words,
like birds making no sense in nonsense.
the tapestry is wrenched beneath the
...vibrating moon,
the sun wanes & bursts
like incense sparkling in an ancient tomb
no eyes see
no mind says me
in the sprawl of being we reach the
point where it's the only choice
to do nothing,
a marvellous emptiness which hosts
immaculate compassion & humility.\
like the midnight train,
like the moon-lit bower,
like the human evolution,
like the spider's holy-hunger,
like the monsoon of rationality,
like the bees' comb so sweet,
like all "quivering meat conceptions"
materialism prevails
we begin to wail
Triup's snow unveils
the masked fever of
the leaping faith of
a tormented gecko into
a concrete void which
falls bygone & returns
to those who heave with
sorrow for man's own
man-ness ; holiness ; growth.
Alas. words are not birds
comparisons are odious
the ink will not run
the link is not all fun.
BOOM! we cry tonight,
alive
passive
hungry
eager
Bent. There's my vent.
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