Truth & Life

Maybe “Truth”, “The Truth” is like water, it has no shape nor form and yet takes on the shape and form of the perception of the perceiver
Maybe this is what it means when I hear – “Truth will set me Free”.

Maybe it is the actual understanding, actual self realization, of this statement that the truth I perceive is the truth I created/accepted unto myself to fit into my mold, to satisfy my wants and desires at that point of time.
And since time is limited in its very nature, in its very quality,
Thus, the truth I created/accepted is always limited to fit the confinements of myself, the self that I made as mine, claimed as mine

So, when I claim to have the truth, I have my truth and not “The Truth”, for the truth I have is my perception, my filter of deception to myself and not “The Truth”

For example – when I go to the beach and hold water from the ocean in the palm of my hand and claim I have the ocean in the palm of my hand, do I really have the Ocean in the palm of my hand?

Such is the nature of every Ideology, every Practice, every Religion, every race, every boundary, every Separation, every division and every form/formless that claims to have the truth,
the way, or one way, or one of the ways of truth.

Each way, each truth is another perception, is another perceptive deception, but is neither the right way nor the very way itself, Including hate and the comfort of Love
For neither hate nor love is “The Truth”

And when I claim hate/fear is an illusion, “Love is all there is” – It is like holding water in the palm of my hand and claiming I have the ocean.

The healers, the dealers, the feelers, the kneelers, the hallucinators and the story tellers,
NONE, NONE has “The Truth”

For to claim the truth in any way or form/formless, is to separate the truth from the Truth and enclose it in a booth
A smoky booth filled with soot

Claims are blames
blames that aim at the flame
flame that is fueling the shame
shame that is the taming of the same name, same game
Same game in the name to rename,
rename to a different trade name, at a different place to play the different, yet the same game of fame

So I keep away from the claims, from the blames and from the names of the frames and of the fame

For Life is not a game nor of fame and both the game & the fame, are only smoke filled frames

Maybe Life is the very nature of the nature that is here to nurture the nature of the nurture

So I let Life arrive, to this hive, to be alive, to revive, and to thrive
For Life and every life has the right to THRIVE

Realize

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A Mind that Doesn’t Know

To a mind that doesn’t know, it only knows through the kind it knows, through the bind it knows
To a mind that doesn’t know, it only knows the no through the know but never the no
To a mind that doesn’t know that it doesn’t know, it only knows the unknown through the known but the unknown through the unknown

For such a mind,
Life is a Game, Life is a Name
Life is a Fame, Life is a Blame
I become a Muppet to the name of the Game and the blame of the fame

In this frame, I only know the name and the fame, the games and the blames
but never the very life
For all I have known is only that which I have known, the known of the known

With such a defined mind, constrained mind, will I ever know life

I may know life as a highlife, as a lowlife
Life as a Strife, life as a knife
Life as a fife or may be, life as a Rife
But never life as life

For to the mind that knows the meaning of life, only knows the definition of life, a description of life to make it a prescription for its life
But never the very life

May be to know life is to be life
To be life is to unknow that which I think is life
May be then, I may find out for myself the very life
For when I am within life, when I am life, I will never know life as life.

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Escape to a New Scape

Some wants to Escape, Some wants a New Scape
Some wants to Escape the New Scape, some wants a New Scape to Escape
For some wants a scape that is a cape to cope with the escape

In name of hate, in the name of fate
In the name of the love, in the name of the dove
I play the same game, again and again for the same gain
I say the same name, again and again for the same pain
Wanting the same thing again and again to cling on
For repetition has become my petition and my repetitive petition has become my imagination

With my hand full of experiences
Mind full of memories
I live in the thoughts with knots and not’s
For I am caught in the knot and I fight the not

My fight has become my flight
My night has become my light
And In the name of light, I take my flight
and in the name of flight I hide behind the might
Filled with might and the imagination of light, I lost my sight
For my sight has been blinded by the darkness & brightness of the light alike

Thinking this is light, I escape to another scape
A scape formed from my own memory to commemorate my memory of my repetitive imagination of the same name and the same game, Same gain and the same pain
Which I label my life

For I know of no life.

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The Other

In the death is the breath of the other
In the breath of the other is the birth of another
In the Birth of another is the experience of each other
In the experience of each other, is the memory of together

In the memory of the together, I tether
To the memory of the other, I wither
For the memory of the other, I shiver
To the memory of the other, I hither

For a few moments in the memory and for a few monuments within the memory
I go after the memory to make a memory of the memory for another memory
Not realizing that within my memory

The name changes
The game changes
The fame changes
The shame changes
And the reason behind the season for change, changes
But the essence behind the name, the game, the fame and the shame, remains the same

For my memory ignites my recognition
Whether the recognition is of un-compassion or of compassion, is still my memory

Recognition as my ignition
I burn on the fuel of duel
The duel of the bad and the good, one for the other, one over the other, one or the other

In this battle against one another, each other, within my memory
I rattle my own memories making more memories
Memories that make me a cattle
cattle that is served into the plate of my own battles

And this I call, memories of life
I wonder of when I un-memorize my memory and my memory of my memories, with no memory to memory to memorize the memory of the memory

what is that lives on, what will be life then?

Tether

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