I walk life through trudging moments,
steps trace the last mile to the vanishing point,
configured in the cauldron of timeless nothingness.
I sink with my morphed essence
within the trance of the mystique night
when the music of life’s violin stops
in time transcending void of silence,
shape shifting to arcane image of death
chiseled from the blocks of nonbeing.
The intrinsic awareness channeled through time
drives cognitive impulses incessant,
surges the enveloping waves of acumen
through the emptiness of perception.
The divine force then propels my essence to
embrace the void
As a pebble from a rough rock, my existence began.
Did I, devoid of destiny, have a peculiar plan?
I was caught between the caves of waves and tricky boulders.
The sun over the seashores was not less than a smoulder.
Haphazardly, with nothing of my gleeful goal, I flowed
Amidst coarseness, a ray of refulgence from within glowed.
Hazardous hardships of grinding and gravelling I bore
Priceless perfection, yet, passionately possessed my core
Twisted, turned, and tossed, my hard edges got softened and smoothed.
Indeed, there were moments too, when, by sea waves, I got soothed.
I am strong now. I'm bright and shining like a sparkling gem.
Shreds of sun and moon hide between the bold folds of my hem.
How I am joyous when I am in a child's tender hold!
How grimness grills my heart when, by a merchant, I am sold!
Ups and downs are parts of process my existence, I know.
This is why I don't fear when in streams like a leaf I flow.
I am humble even when I look tall, fat, high, or wide.
In the process of my becoming, I have lost my pride.
As every being or nonbeing, I too might be gone.
Isn't life a bon voyage from the known to the unknown?
Ink
with acuate nib
you trace my skin,
inscribing the slimmest contours
next to your old scars
what is this book you write
in blood and darkness
what shadows your mind
and guides your pen to slaughter
that you want to see me
unhinged, demented,
vanished into your words,
irrecoverable
do you crave the death
you cannot have
so much that
you must find it
in others
scratching at me
with furious strokes
as if to blot out
your own poison
until I am made
a volume of nonbeing,
indited in scars,
obliviated by ink
*Image of Human Wake Up Light by Pixabay.
The Eternals Wake
Afterlifer's believes consciousness dabbles, effecting furtherance,
gainsayers, henceforth, interjects jocularity,
knowledgeable limits mortality nonbeing ... obliviates predominating, quasistationary,
relinquishes significance tasked ultrafamiliar,
vaticinators wanderings xenial,
yearning zen.
2021 October 18
I see that I am just One Thought.
God’s image – the very core
at the center of the center;
nothing spinning off into endless supposition.
Nothing branching, leafing or imagining.
No platforms of consciousness, realms,
no parallel dimensions, no other existing,
no stasis, no fleeting.
No conditioned realities, no division of reality.
No conditioned creation – therefore create,
no multiplication, no duplication or variation,
therefor understand all differences
and enjoy.
Not these words, no yesterday, no tomorrow,
no today.
No being, no nonbeing.
Not two,
nothing excluded, nothing separate,
just this singularity – absolutely
empty of condition.
One seed thought – just one.
Be like a black bird that shines
in a dark featureless night,
knowing you are
all that is, was and ever can be.
~~~~~
Creation's battle
Of being and nonbeing
The Cosmos is born
(c) Demetrios Trifiatis
23 October 2016
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