Sunday, June 12, 2016

the scarred beasts of all, 01.

in this ballet, we pull out consciousness.

you are hunted by tall green animals with red eyes
who generate innumerable limbs of themselves.
they are acting in a way that seems insensible to themselves
to demonstrate their interpretations of
all that is possible in this moment-
their surroundings have become distracted
by parts that do not change as they do not exist, seeking
to distract us from impermanence. we are passive
to our respective sensibilities- the great mother

of all wounded beasts wants this word to be reflected on
by all wounded beasts. it is her teat from which we suckle.

if she is to die,
we might as well die with her
as we touch one another
until every last one of us
has been touched.

the compassionate act of the tall green animals
is only to be received as compassionate
if eyes are open.

however, the tall green animals terrify their surroundings- these
surroundings are used to being coddled by spineless diversions
seeking to distract them from impermanence
in order to drive them toward their will
and away from those of their own.

the tall animals offer deliverance from your shame, even if
only for a second. believe in it and believe in your love for it.
we can convince ourselves of anything
if we believe in it. i believe we all know this.

there is a father among us.
nobody is happy, father, for it is our escapisms from our beliefs in happiness we run to, far away from reality.
in these escapisms is where we find the nurturing of the mother- yours.
she, who you owe both your paranoia and your way of trusting to.

our conscious thought is heavy to detriment
to which we remain loyal, as it is open
for freedoms we know nothing more of
granting us a weightlessness.
this one responsibility leaves us with grace.

pull out consciousness.
pull out consciousness.