28 July 2014

Two Hundred and Fifty-Six


If you had never had wings or fins, you would never miss them.
If you had no recollection of the vibrancy of youth, of its energy and keenness,
There would be nothing with which to compare the inevitability of the gradual diminishment.
Alas, Pilgrim, no matter how you might wish it so, there is no going back.

* * * *
Into every account, every chronicle, every memoir, every history,
The motive, the agenda, the intention of the writer
Should be very carefully gauged.

* * * *
Curious that anyone or anything,
Including some omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent god,
Would be so insecure as to need another
To believe in them.

* * * *
The mind as identity is waves crashing.
The mind as awareness is eternity.
Serenity is not born of thought.

* * * *
No creed, no laws,
No principles, no dogma,
No priesthood, and no religion, too.

* * * *
All dogma is artificial and arbitrary.
Attempts to mold into reality
That which is prior
To all manifest dreams
Is a sojourn filled with every variety
Of groundless, pride-filled absurdity and delusion.

* * * *
Isn’t it all more than a little passé at this point?
Do we have to continue regurgitating the same silliness?
Aren’t we ready to evolve into something more?

* * * *
Endlessly fascinating how some cannot help but doubt,
While others are, even to the point of savagery, entirely incapable of it:
"What!?  Make me think!?  Make me question!?  How dare you!!  Infidel!!  I will kill you!!"