pain

From the heights above

From the heights above

region of utter (but momentary) silence

one spasm of current, one flick of expectation: 
 

 

Thundering fingers of light 
 

 

you yearn to reach high

succumb to every celestial impulse

explore paths in those veins of pain

fury and euphoric in blindness

closing in at last to fulfillment

near-annihilation by  its sheer force

forsaken in its brilliance

              as the chariot of doom

                     heralds the advent of change
 
 

 

Then, laugh, laugh in Olympic stride

and close your eyes to the Void inside

 

 

 

 

Go back to Beyond Language

Isolation

 

 

Isolation.

Breathtaking isolating metaphysical estrangement. I am the voice of a prison, an oasis of consciousness locked up in a bottle that is floating on an ocean of beautiful nothingness. There is nothing but myself. But “myself” isn’t human. Consciousness is the moment of absolute silence before sneezing. We are the void that is never heard, we are the undercurrent of a stream that can never rise to the surface; we are motion without name. The unreality of it is not a punishment – it is a promise that nothing – nothing can condemn us to eternal misery. Every pain is a thorn, every joy is a petal: but there is no rose to eternalize them. Life is a dream that will never surrender the mist of its illusion.

We are a particle in that dancing mist,

                         flashing in the light of time,

                                   vanishing in the darkness of boundless sleep.

Heavy Steps

painting_dreams_lost_man

Old and brittle man
walking alone, hands behind back
dragging his feet, stooping his head
as the town of Itacaré swam
in melodies of reggae, seasons of breeze
Poor old man, stumbling amongst thoughts
entreating pain to numb his soul
so as to never suffer harshly
from the whip of regret —
Why does sadness allow me to forgive you;
come here old man
sit by my side, listen to the stars
there are still things your pain
                     will never mar

POEM ii

POEM  ii

Why do I feel I must carry
in distress and despair
the weight of the universe
                       heavily laid on my back
 
How can I ignore the monumental,
the towers of suffering all life
must sooner or later endure
                       and perpetually misunderstand
 
How can silence substitute
the boundless pain in every
instant of transience,
                          every day and night
 
Inexpressible this senseless world!
But a spark of total nirvana
when submerged in this chaos
                         I let everything go…