What a night.  I was up late because I fell asleep, but then awoke, momentarily refreshed and unable to call on the deep trance of dream.  Caught between, my mind was a flurry of waking dream images, a vast rumination running on autopilot. Like a psychedelic trip without the disorientation.


 

The Line

Dissolved

Between here

And there

Sleep

And waking

Dream and dreamlessness….

 

This dissolves

It’s a solvent

ripping apart

taking down

those boundaries,

setting in place

A poetry of soul

Self

And bone…

 

So many weep,

holding the remnant masks

grieving

For a nothingness

that came from itself

And dissolves back to its origins.

 

Rejoicing,

The soul rises

to its paradise

lying folded between the leaves

of lost pages

unknown

unseen

until the boundaries fall away

the mountains,

the walls,

the illusory beliefs…

as the book blooms

into a world of sweetened scent

and wonder

for the hidden

now revealed.

 

Your images fleeted through me

(she lay cuddled over him arms tucked in)

The words and sounds

Both of laughter

(She sits up, taking him in)

And wonderment,

Secrets only you knew

(Like a radio star; she received in pulses so fast)

Fleeted through an emptied house…

(Uncertain and dizzy with desire)

as images emerged,

Like a full-on psychedelic experience

Driven by dream

(And desire)

Focused through waking.

 

Strangers moved

Indexed

Stored

Released

As my mind

Balanced between worlds

Watched in wonder

As it all slipped through

My hands

like a great rushing stream.

 

My mind does not know what it means

Nor always to whom it belongs

It all becomes

Noise…

A flurry of images

From personal lives

The soul

Linked into realms of light.

I listened as I heard the peculiarly loud vocalization last night

that sitting here now,

I hear the man next to me chirping out

exactly as it had come

in a time that came backwards

from the way it usually comes.

 

What secrets do any of us think we hold in worlds such as this?

 

But for purposes

I wonder

The chaos of our world

Slipping through the radio of my mind

As the daily broadcast is ruminated

By minds other than my own

As my own can only guess

At the glue that holds them together.

 

The desire

The greatest one

Is what holds it all together

Even as none of it makes sense sometimes.

Sometimes it all just comes so fast

So furiously

Meaning meant for another self inside

While the mind just cannot grasp

Nor should it,

I think.

 

It is what it is

Assigning importance

Robs it of its reality

 

All our masks are lost

I think

To the deep river of time,

and as they do

you too will see as I have seen

as the veil thins

not between worlds

but in the world of the self

which sees all worlds.

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