Power In The Tower

In the name of the Power, I am trained to crawl up the Tower
The lover & the giver is just another name of the power over the other
For each is another control tower to hover over the other
To tether, to hither & thither, the other

Living through the other, unable to examine my own perception of power
I look for the other that is also after the power

In this race for power, to create a space for my control tower
I divide my mind to create a self called myself to abide to my divided self
A divided self, fed and bred by my denomination of abominations

Abominations of denominations of Race, Religion, Color, Country, Culture and every other segregation
I aid to this fire power to build up for my hour

Maybe I do this, so “I” don’t have to change, I don’t want to give up my habit, my mechanistic way of my miserable “known” life
for the unknown, for the new that is not known is abandoned, is condemned to the habituated slave mind of mine

For example:
A thief justifies his/her way of life through another thief, thus calling the world as a bundle of thieves, so I don’t have to change myself, look at my own self and my way of life

Maybe this why I identify myself in everyday life with, my race, my culture, my country, my religion, my this & my that, inside/outside
And actually want YOU to do the same and I AID you to do the same through a million masks of mine

Satisfaction as my gratification
Ratification as my formation
I live for the proof of the other, in the spoof of another

Holding on to the “My”
Shielding the My from the I
Yielding to the My over the I
I am lost within the tide of the MY, a divided MY

The day is here and the sway is near
Like the footprints on the sandy shore
Every mark will be wiped
Every spark will be swiped
Wiped from the face of the earth and the very mask of the man

For every tower will fall, every power will stall
Above all, every flower will hail & prevail

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Survival as My Revival

For a few loaves of bread and a few grains of grub
In-between the joys of pleasure and in the sorrows of pain
I find my life I call life, I define this as my life

Enslaved to my desires
Engulfed by the objects of my desire
I make my desire my attire
And I roam the streets of slavery in the savory of my for hire

Unable to create a life on my own
I recreate and procreate on the knife of pleasure and pain

Lost in the images of imagination, I build walls of hallucination
And I deck my walls with accusations of the other

Comfort as my fuel
Comfort of Security as my duel
I burn in the flames of my own habit

Unable to open up to the unknown
I stone the unknown for the known, to the known, through the known

I trade freedom for security to find freedom through security
For I know of no freedom without security

I wonder if I am dreaming, if I am asleep
Only to realize that the dreamer and that which is being dreamed are me, one and the same
I wonder of that which I wake up to, I wonder if that is another dream within my dream of the dream

Unknown of my own known, I weave a web of a prison, a prism
Where I am the thief ad I am the police

Tired of the games and afraid of the memes and the names of the memes
Walloped by my own imagination, I no longer can gallop through my memory of life
For my life has become a few grains of grub and few loafs of bread

Survive

Survival

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Meditation

Meditation as my medication
Another form of intoxication, another form of hallucigenic dictation, to escape into an imagination
to create a new scape, a new cape to gape
I take shape to reshape the same shape

Meditation as a repitive mechanistic idea
Meditation as a habit, as a pratice
I become a babbit to that practiced habit

I may Ace my face in this habit and hop around like a rabbit as I inhibit the persona of the exhibit
For now i have become an exhibit, a inhibit to my very self
To prohibit myself, to come out of my shelf

For Mediation when practiced as a habit, as a repetitive idea, whether attached to my current habit, or developed as a new habit, will just be another habit
Another habit that will eventually loose its luster as soon as the pleasure of the new habit has faded, for that very idea of habit is jaded
For all I am trying to do is to fulfill my desire to achieve something (the quality of the desire might differ but still there is a want, even if it is a want of no want, no desire)

Mediation practiced as a space, as a place to hide away for a few min or few hours or as a place to mind the mind, “control” the mind
replace the current images of the mind, occupy the mind with a different imagination to experience some form of my perception of ecstasy/bliss, a place to go away, a space to escape from my daily life,
My daily life that is not serving my pleasures and wants of the pleasures and wants of the mind born out of pleasures and wants will just be that –
A framed, a confined, however refined it is, still a confined “hallucination” that the mind will eventually get used to
which inturn will no longer serve my wants to fulfill my wants of peace/bliss/love/ecstasy etc.

For now, the practice of one mediatation is no longer serving me, I will start swinging between this type of mediation and that type of mediation, never understanding my want, my desire to meditate in the first place, to “escape” in the first place.

And meditations of this type, any type, will be like this to me – Before meditation I am digging my hole with a shovel and when I have gotten into habit, into the practice of meditation, I will dig my hole with a bulldozer.

Maybe when I actually see this, actually realize this nature of the practice, nature of all these well known mediations, nature of my own minds habit, will I still go after developing and attaching more habits to my already habituated mind, my practiced mind, filling/replacing more of the refined confinements?

Or will meditation be something entirely different for me?, as a space to become completely “Aware” of every single thought that is happening within me, questioning the nature of every thought and the very thought itself, and the self I call myself that is thinking of these thoughts?

Maybe then i will Question, Question the Question, Question the Question that is questioning the question?

I wonder, What would such a mind of mine be then?

Will I then become aware, totally aware with utmost attention, not focus but “complete attention”, complete responsibility to my every thought that may bring upon a different change within me, that may take me beyond habit, beyond practice, beyond every form of meditation out there?

Then, maybe then, will I still need to confine my mind, my thoughts for few min, few hours of this and that silly medications?

For now, maybe now, every thought, every second and every part of my life and the very life itself is a meditation in itself, a meditation of “Awareness”, A mediataion of “examination”.

A meditation of wonder, wondering the wonder that is wondering of the wonder to wonder of wonder with no wonder to wonder wonder
Maybe …..

Focused Inhabit Portion

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