npwm, #5 #1

sitting here as
the black car drives round
as the crow swoops down
from rooftop to tree branch

b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-waaaaaaaaa
motorcycle's echo in the distance
the distance drifting towards me

and what do i have?
besides this seat upon which i'm sitting
and this head filled
with thoughts i'm thinking
and this mind so full of space

and time

where am i?
ca-caw, caw, caw
and whatever that sound is
that'll never make it to text
or from words into a mind,
whole as it was in my ears

what carry these flimsy vessels
filled with emptiness
filled with that
which it is figured should be

does it follow the crows?
they're gone now.
did the idea drift away
on some breeze similar to that
which they have sailed away upon?

where does realization rest?
are its rations "on the house?"
a little bit of lagniappe
for this blind hermit
peddling the best and worst of things

to the best and worst of me.

back to reality,
this more persistent dream.

npwm, #6 #1

pity the poets'
souls trapped in flesh and mind's
eternal ascent



our words "love" and "God"
obscure the true Truth behind -
cosmic unity

npwm, #9 #1

so,
apparently to-
day
i feel like pre-
facing statements
with a "so,"


so, i'll sow "so" -

sew "so" on-
to the fabric of

what i say today -

because i say "so,"
be-
cause
i say so.


i can be a cautionary tale!



so please don't fall victim to
that narrow so narrow -

your own stupid brain.


- but especially -
- so, especially -
- (so especially) -
- so, so especially don't
fall into the narrower
masquerading
as smarter.


he'll
replace windows with mirrors
and keep
you focused for a lifetime.

npwm, #11 #1

ideas, thoughts
decay
become soil

feed new generations
of ideas, thoughts

seemingly related,
seemingly unrelated,
all from same place

in same space

One



thoughts, like trees.
people, like trees.
generations, like trees.

trees, like trees.

seemingly unrelated.
all from from.



thoughts like clay,
moulded into ideas


children like clay,
moulded into monsters

moulded already broken

broken to break

continue breaking,
unless braking,
changing


decay;
feed life,
fed poison


children like clay,
nurtured
to nurture

sow love,

life


decays, feeds life


people are children -
always children,
sometimes denying.

always, though,
a child when dying

npwm, #3 #1

imagine would you
original sin was but
the first question thought



what has been named
was not and will never be
that which satisfies

oops

gravity is matter being repelled by space - like similarly polarized magnets. like the entities within me, there are three of the divine Creator. there's i, and me, and I. there's "the Father;" there's the inverse; there's their coexistence; and their cancelling each other out. their coexistence is matter; the void is the result of their cancelling each other out. these two outcomes are one and the same, and repel each other as do magnets, as the void does matter.

now for the entities within me. there's Me; there's my inverse (something like my perspective as separate from myself as discerned by me [this is effectively stream-of-conscience typing, so nothing's sure]). Me is balance and cohesion; my inverse is, i think, purely imagined, and the progenitor of all disharmony within my being. So, there's the balanced Me, of a nature that i cannot describe (but, until now, imagined was my "spirit," the aspect of my consciousness the nature of which is transcendental, "divine"); except maybe as the cohesion of my "spiritual" consciousness - the eternal flow, and this specificity which is my physical being - though not merely as i have grown to know it, with its five senses and limitation to this finite, physical form, but as it is the conduit of consciousness into this physical plane.


losing what i was saying, though nothing's been lost. there's One, and there's the perception of its inverse. the two outcomes of this are the same as space and matter; there is harmony and a Nirvanic mindstate, and there is the disharmony that is my usual depression and the routines with which i sustain it, filling my head always with negative recollection and negative anticipation. i am depressed, anxious, angry, and looking for someone to blame and for someone to make me feel better, to relieve me of all of this seemingly real sadness.

whatever it was that i became that i recall as and term the "perfect" state of awareness, is more than i can wrap my mind around, more than i can figure out, and something that i am helpless to find my way to. the only way to become it, is to let go of the pursuit of it, or of anything in particular.

i think that existence as i usually experience it is three of those four (of “Father,” inverse, coexistence and cancellation), and “God” as we limit our perception of him is also three of the four... when it may be that “God” actually encompasses the two opposites, and the two resultant opposites, and whatever more there must be (there must be Everything), and the pattern of this eternal encompassment and the encompassment itself.

aaaaah... God is the very beginning, the “Father,” the initial, that the inverse of which spawns all of the resultant inverses - and God is the ultimate result/total of all of these inverses. the Alpha and the Omega. and everything else imaginable and unimaginable, of course.

one day, i’ll be sure. on that day, i think i’ll no longer be sure of anything in particular.

or something like that.

a double-edged sword
and they're both pointed toward

my mind's deploying chaff and flares
trying to dodge this one

i gotta say to that: good call, man.

tender girl and her closet breakdown
the act now over

steely visage now replaced
with tear streaked face

silly man.



or something like that



once again,
just a silly man