Me & the Other

When I was born, I was crying and the other were in joy of my crying
When I leave, the other cries for stealing their joy, their memories, their idea of me and never me

For the me I call me, is a relative me that is framed and formed from the fabric of the other
To know the me, to know the I that is other than given by the other, maybe I need to look at the tether of the other
A tether that is non relative to the other and that which does not reside in the other, and has its roots with the me I call as me, the image of the me within me

And maybe when I stand alone, I may come across this tether of the idea of the other and the nature of my perception of the relationship of the other
To get to know this tether of the other is to know the nature of the nether
For the feather and the nether within is relative to the other and the other in the I that is neither in the I nor in the other

To bow to another, to row with another may extend the hand of comfort, lend the land of the concert and justification of the act of non-rectification
And I may never come across the nature of the I that is lost in any of the other

So sound the horn of the Human, Be the lumen that is born in every numen, realize and actualize the Hu within the Human
For to be the Hu, is to be the new in every morning dew
In the new is the true and in the true is the new

New is not a relative new to that of the old
For the old is a memory with its prangs and gangs that gets drunk in the name of the new
Break this gunk, shake this skunk and make one self debunk
To know the nature of the new
For such new, has no knew or new to show the old or the bold or to uphold the so told
Like water this is the very matter that is behind all of the later

To face this new is to travel within, to ungravel the in, and to brace this akin is to make the fuel for my actualization of the realization of that which is burning
Burning within, from which I am running and yet akin from running
For standing has strength while all else are running from this aking

For the kingdoms and the doldrums, the rags and the riches, the drags and brags are all in the with in
So wake up, Stand up with in the up that has no ship of relationship, that which is neither the up of the down or the down of the up and is always around and abound

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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

Dominant

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Always All Alone

I walk alone
I stand alone
I speak alone
For divided, I fall and United I stall

Divisions are dependent on Unison and unison is dependent on division
For both are the opposite of each other and cannot exist without the other

So when I unite in the name of division
When I divide in the name of unison
each and together they become my confinement, my prison, giving rise to my loneliness

Loneliness as the onlyness, I know of no aloneness
Always looking for the other, both physically and mentally
I live through the other, for the other, in the name of one another

Unknown to the mind
Not known, what to find
Unable to define, to refine and to confine
I mine my memories through predefined image of my image

Unable to understand the perception of the perceiver’s perception
I float around in the idea, an illusion of my perceptions deception
I take up the makeup, hide behind the cover up to show up that I am the up and the cup
For in reality, I am just an empty cup waiting for a fillup

And when I wake up from this makeup
I stand up, I rake up the I that is lost in the ME, that is lost in the WE
The I that is a host of the why
Maybe here, the I that comes across the Why know of no I
For the I of the I has no I to look at the I that looks at the I

And here, my dear there is no one dear or near to stand with the I
For in the beginning and in the end of the beginnings end, I am always all alone

Solitary

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Human & Numen

A human needs no high-rises nor 10 bed townhomes
A human body needs a shelter within nature, within the nature of nature

A human needs no company of a companion
A human needs to accompany the mind of the human

A human needs no security of tomorrow
A human needs to scrutinize the human mind of today

A human needs no fort of comfort
A human needs to get to know the confinement of the comfortable mind

A human needs no needs of the wants to haunt
A human needs to daunt the wants of the needs

A human needs no free will nor the free will of choice
A human needs freedom, from free will and free will of choice
Freedom, from my own known voice

Freedom is not a dome that it is confined to but maybe is the home that has no dome
Freedom is not in the blame of the other nor in the acceptance of the other, but in neither

Freedom is not in the experience of the yesterday nor the repetition of the memory of the yesterday but maybe in the birth of the awareness of today

Freedom is not in the labels, not on the tables of the labels, nor in the fables of the labels
But maybe, in the unlabeled, in the un-tabled, within the un-fabled

Freedom is not in the confinements and conditions of hate or love, chaos or peace, for both are simply refined confinements, refined conditions
However refined the confinement, The refined, is only as fine as its confinement
But maybe in that which is neither confined/refined nor conditioned

Thus, a mind that is unexplored beyond its confinements, beyond its own known refinements,
is a mind that is unexamined

For a human that is free is like a numen and a lumen that know of no numen or lumen
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