Me & the World

Born to the ocean of the world
Learning the ways of the world as my mold to hold
Looking at the world through my past hold
Fooled to the idea of the old, I lost my bold

Unable to swim alone, disabled to think alone, blink alone
I look for the ship of relationships to sail me through my loneliness
A loneliness that stems from the ship of the friendships, the kinships, the courtships, the flagships and every other ship of relationships

Afraid of loneliness, I fear of being alone
As a runaway from aloneness and as a walkway of my life, I make my habit my life
Life as a habit, I have become a slave to my habitual grave

In the comfort of habit, in the comfort of the security of my habit
I create my hull with the repition of tradition, I recreate my skull with the mission of ambition for another tradition

In this repetitive tradition, I became a competition to my own premonition

Caught in these waves of my premonitions, I set sail with my ships full of frail
Riding the waves, abiding by the fav’s, becoming the waves
I rise and fall in the ocean of the world
I crash and trash within the potion of my mold

I create the chaos, so I can make the waves
the hate wave, the love wave, each is just a wave
the dark wave, the light wave, each is another wave to rave, to be a slave to the wave
so I can dance the dance of the wave
For the world is just another dance of the wave

When the dance is done, when the stance is done and done
I get the glance of the nature of the wave
I get the glance of the trance of the wave

Here and near when the fear and the smear and the rest that hear is no longer dear
I come to rest, I come back to the nest
Into the depths of the ocean, in the very motion with no motion
Within the abyss of this bliss, I have no eye for the I, nor an I for an I to miss

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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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My World

My world is another mold
A mold of another fold

For i realize that every fold is just another hold
Another hold i can no longer withhold
For every withhold is of the told
Both the fool’s gold and the white gold

And all that i am told is now my own blindfold
Blindfolded i am, making the known my backbone

For my Laughter is of the known
My laughter after is of the known

My happiness is of the known
My sadness is of the known

My pleasure is of the known
my treasure is of the known

My pain is of the known
my came is of the known

The faces i miss are of the known
the spaces i kiss are of the known

And, all I know is of the known
All i have yet to know is through the known

To the known, i am alive
To the known, I die

And when i am alive to my sense, i speak of the nonsense of my sense
And when i am no sense, i have no sense to sense the sense

For my world has become a senseless sense with known sense of unknown nonsense, that has no sense of the nonsense, of the sense

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