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"Phenomonology"

time drips through
the lens of philosophy 
phenomonology melts
the solid realisation;
was all that time 
spent inconsequential, 
the purpose of it all
bought abruptly, 
for an expected cost
(for this annal
somewhere soft 
and vaseline-lensed, 
we anticipate, it is never
an unexpected cost, 
we know the cost 
of all things eventually), 
fraught and contradictory
brought into alignment 
with a loose end, 
that’s a wrap
and nothing tied, 
question mark; 
semicolan, pause
avoid that full stop; 
simply being before thought
yolk and white separate
cracked and measured
flaws in the reasoning 
of existence,
there is no rational
explanation beyond
faith and belief, 
monastic pantheists
flinch to the hymns 
of science’s abrasive voice
it has its answers for 
substance 
through the gate racing
on the get-go 
phyrronism
scorches everything;
Everything,
raises its hand
palm open – there’s that 
measured full stop. 
structures of consciousness
shakey foundations experienced 
through a First person view 
beggars belief 
in trust, 
yet nothing tangible;
we speak to ourselves
and our internal gods;
Spinoza confers with
some of us, 
excommunicated,
we understand that,
in one way or another
and we are just like 
the others
but different, 
waiting for validation
and logical answers 
to form on our tongues
like words we swallow
to speak into life. 
in the beginning 
there was the word

but before that,
the thoughts;

from the mind
sits Epoché’s nature
Ataraxia


(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)

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