Spacemeat. The light cone enfolds the individual effectually creating a ghost through geometric topology. The negative of the person, the "ghost" is a result of the lensing of the original person's light cone interacting with a tertiary lightcone that predicates it's future on the subsequent intermingling of the light cones. The result is essentially apodictic insofar as the consequential nature of the topological result is the determinant by which the conclusion from the incipient portion of the status aforementioned is solidified. Spacemeat.
You do not beat the Devil
By hollering at him, punching
Him in the face – that’s what
He is, violence, physical and
Spiritual discord. You do not
Beat the Devil by heated protests,
He feeds on your discord, relishes
Your fevered pitch. You don’t
Beat the Devil by binding him,
Throwing him into flames – He
is flame, pain and suffering. He
Joyfully savors every lick and
Subsequent ash. In fact, you do
Not beat the Devil, the Christ
In you must be risen to bear
Righteous arms. Take the battle
Upon yourself, make yourself
Arbiter of the Lord’s justice
And you will lose – He will
Defeat your lesser ego for that
Is his inlet and base of operation.
Shut Him out, do not give him
Any power for presence – and
God wins. We all win…. As my
Dearest Friend said, "Resist
Not evil."
Line of inquiry:
“joy, empathy, compassion
on an upward arc
an effervescence eternal
causes bliss ignition to start” Unseeking Seeker
_______________________
Purity is dissolution complete
subsequent to passing every octave
spirit within spirit resting blissed sweet
peaceable compassion but concoctive
Through life's craving roses or fearful thorns
empathy, forgiveness remain a must
to tread challenging course blithe or forlorn
fortitude points luminary bow just
Above us arc stretches calling our name
irrepressibly chaste serene its zest
sorrows, anxiety, goals mere mind games
transcendent patient is Beloved’s nest
Reverent spirit willing with reason
travels curve in own orchestral season ~
________________________________
5th Placement : Premier Contest
Sponsor: Unseeking Seeker
May ‘26
He gave of His life
so that I could live free
a benevolent act
impossible to believe
and my only response to His brave deeds
Is to praise Him while down on my knees
I now say this without any shame
Glory to His Holy name
the unselfish yielding
of His personal plans
His existence orchestrated
by His Father's mighty hands
and my only response to His brave deeds
Is to praise Him while down on my knees
I now say this without any shame
Glory to His Holy name
His humble birth
and subsequent crucifixion
was the holistic juxtaposition
of His flesh, the bread most divine
of His blood, the consecrated wine
and the sole purpose of Him even living
was so that my sins would be forgiven
and my only response to His brave deeds
Is to praise Him while down on my knees
I now say this without any shame
Glory to His Holy name
I now dedicate my life back to the Anointed one
Jesus of Nazareth God's only begotten Son
who died so that I could live free
who gave His life just for me
and my only response to His brave deeds
Is to praise Jesus while down on my knees
and I say this again without any shame
Glory to His Holy name
Tiny train...tiny memories...
how toys bring us back,
travel great distances
without actually moving --
how replicas resurrect
the plastic solders and tanks
in an attic trunk, my favorite
gun -- dry, bet the caps still
bang...?
Should these shaky old hands
pass them on? Or let them
desire their own -- to see what
future dusty attics will hold
after a fresh settling of years?
Spears, arrows, muskets, laser
blasters -- does anything really
change? Christ has not returned
despite our subsequent crucifixions....
Yet, love gives me hope....
Give unto us, a home that puts God first
To conquer every satanic devilish thirst
Cum subsequent tempted thrill reversed
Giving another try to get heart's conviction coerced
Give unto us, a home fervently strong in prayer
Which would beforehand averts despair
And cement hope grace truly ensnare
With everlasting merciful covenant's flare
Give unto us, a home richly blessed
With housing large enough to have guest
Which glorifies God's name to manifest
What our daily supplications; God bequest
Give unto us, a home where love rules
That not one but both are useful tools
Of efforts to adjust necessary schedules
Creating time for each other unlike fools
Give unto us, a home that nurtures children's sights
Aright in Your directives both in days and nights
That Your wills be their surging appetites
Of Your words as guides in earthly frights
Rain's eloquent sorrow, unheard when
Youth's surge was proceeding
More impressionably wrung out of
A subsequent heeding.
Talk, once run-related, spluttered
In meaninglessness about
Struck of, when night-slouched, prints for
Loneliness leaves no doubt.
they are yours
and mines;
the hard-boiled
cookery of virtuous noise.
a polyphony wrapped
in aluminum foil
on a tedious shelf
w/bits of mythic statuary,
petite reliquary
of gastronomic demise,
and jars of jazz
sit motionless,
mummified
in gifted dishes.
they are the cool
epistemologies
that gel I the mixing bowl of life
that sudden slap
in the face of time
and the subsequent freeze.
You waited
with no ideas of your own,
no vision, plan, or blueprint
for the future.
Empty, awaiting guidance,
you longed only for the right words.
In anticipation,
your blank face held no expression,
your every fiber
begging for my gentle touch,
your very essence
crying out your need for fulfillment.
One word,
and each subsequent one, delighted you.
You reveled
in the sharing of my thoughts.
You became alive
as you drank of my deepest passions.
My touch brought untold ecstasy
as every pore of your being
felt the power
of our common commitment.
Your acceptance the quintessence of trust
as evidenced by the sweet flow of our giving
You rested
complete, fulfilled and satisfied
that you had shared
the intimacy of our total surrender.
For, in becoming one,
our affair gave birth to sweet verse.
PONDERING LABORING DAYS AHEAD
In the laboring days ahead,
Dawning with continuous trials,
And subsequent tribulations,
Let’s not be like sheep
In a slaughtering pen;
Rather, let’s be as lambs
In the garden of God:-
Armed with faith and hope,
And God’s divine guidance,
Let us, as the Psalms remind us,
Journey onwards to overcoming:
“Defending truth, humility, and justice”:-
For indeed, our God is a God of justice;
Justice indeed, being, “His royal scepter.”
Thus, as Summer is waning,
And leave falling Fall preludes
The vicious coming of Winter,
Let us realize resurrecting Spring
Will likewise return with healing grace:-
Thus, let us continue in our resurrecting
Labors of love, sowing reaping justice:-
… do you love me, woman
it is cloudy in this street
as that sandalwood perfume
stretching between our arms
here everything of it is gone
with the floods and good
you are the only tree left behind
and love is the dewdrops
even the axe that cuts them
into pieces, remains a noble soul
falling slowly from the last leaf
to the bare ground of mire
somewhere in the mist behind the bridge
a brain is smouldering with the request
to return this soul
to its former position
and retains its fragrance
in the trap, unaccompanied
thinking about a lover is sweeter than kissing
because love is not feeling
and I cherish that moment in itself
when I am alone but through a subsequent passage
that’s why I illustrate
your perfume filling the dig we create
woman, do you still love me
I’m one of the connexions, though really why
it should be, after all, is none so apparent
your body is a cloth I wear
in this cold weather I’m
struggling with my broken left leg…
To live bound by “integrity”, where rectitude derides you? It’s starkly accustomed. I enrooted, enclosed by academics--the desolate nature of my sentience consuming my interior. Nether perfection defenestrates my subsequent--and I’m so damn tired. Extort my studies till blood seeps via my retinas, weave my pencil till the anathematic led ruptures; a mere standard in our education. Sacrifice my youth as to my future, conglomerate extracurriculars till my collapse, lay none betwixt within life and school; label it as a system. Shut up, shut up all of you! My exertion incapable of being compensated for—silence, silence, all of you! Toil seldom for me, subsequently bequeathing my labor… Discard my passion, coerce me to fill the perforated gaps in tuition—quiet, quiet, all of you! Refrain from protesting till your own encounter, and perpetually weep!
Shut up, all of you
My future prioritized
Discard my own youth
A little child
Got scared of looking
Into the mirror
Fearing ugliness
Look back at her
As she had always been told…
When she grew up
She got scared of failing
In her exams
Fearing neglect
And punishment
As she had always felt…
In her school
She got scared of speaking
With her classmates
Fearing her ugliness
And the subsequent neglect
As she thought would happen…
In her home
She got scared of sharing
What she had gone through
And felt
As she never experienced being heard…
She was fearful
Of fear
And all that she feared for
To only increase
Her fear and
The fearful.
One day
When she woke up
Startled by an unassuming but
Loud sound,
She realised
It was loud because
She was drowning in her fear…
That day
She woke herself up
To face it -
To face herself in the mirror
And love her -
She found that she was loved back.
To face failure -
And realised that success tasted better.
To speak her mind -
And feel light again.
All this taught her
That she must listen —
Listen to herself
To conquer that
Which had conquered her so long..
Fear!
This is the century of the Big Lie.
Right from the beginning
With the Dot Com boom
9/11 attack and subsequent counter attack
We’ve been living
In one continuous deceptive news cycle
Of misinformation, disinformation, gaslighting
And Chicken Little fear mongering.
It’s no wonder the youth today,
Those born this century,
Are terrified of what is, and what’s to come,
Taking it out on themselves
With self destructive addictions and disorders
Taking it out on their peers and families too
Since actions have consequences
That ripple out through all time and space.
We’re all hardwired to believe
But in an era of pervasive brainwashing
In schools and media, entertainment and culture
We need to learn how to doubt
And critically think,
Trust our gut, intuition and the common sense
We’re also all born with.
We need to recognize the lie
And where it has come to dwell
In each of us.
(3/7/25)
still bright orange rinds around juice,
mixing with a few very green leaves,
mixing ultimately with fried rice
and chicken; no peas or carrots.
finally in the mouth, hands
letting go of virtual reality,
face cleansed of sweat;
finally eating at two o’clock.
yes…yes, earlier hot chocolate
with teeny tiny marshmallows.
wake up time was ten o’clock.
the cuckoo clock, doesn’t tattle;
stays silent. at my grandma’s house,
the little birdy checked on us,
not only on the hour with
subsequent cuckoos,
but every half hour too.
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