I remember
the hungry birth I never had
and while I’m rolling like a pebble
down on a mountain I’ve never seen
I sense the abyss that does not exist
full of sand
frenetic inside a wave
following a cyclic course
with bubbles bursting
in a memory of circles.
Motion of orange limb
cloudlike epicenter
in the mindful gap
of my vision –
motion
bulging multitudes
of dismay
faraway kaleidoscope
in the origin of the mind,
of dense, opulent
location – married to
chance and improbability,
the bread of destiny
in the ruthless jaw of divine
novelistic forces –
a day here
and a bulge of eternal
there,
two
spiraling towards each other
like the allegories
of the eternal return
and the empty
nirvana.
Has the raucous broth of
mad existence
in the twinkle ruin
of your perception?
Has the incense of repetition
shoal the antipodes of speech
in the colliding spiral
of absurdity?
Has the impervious rant
emerging like a Zen of clouds
immolate round and sound
as reason of the ephemeral?
Has the curve of light
lost in mind
like the rolling dimension
of unknowingness?
Answer me!
Is there a possibility
of ache and wonder
some knowledge
of cave and cadence
has man
any recognition
of the dream
in the edifice
of infinity
the sun
is drowning
in red essence
everything
sleeps
like a butterfly
in flight
lucid
shapeless
earth.
why choose
sky as volatile
art form
nihilism or
the other side
of beauty
or dimension
as a monstrous step
forward into the
wild
there
in unison
poetry and nature
blend as I stare
towards the
illusion
I chose
to be an insect
cradled in some
unspeakable obscurity
these are great steps
to take
and leaps of sense,
allowing
everything to be
and to be gone
Beyond Language 
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