Thursday, March 23, 2006

Hello and a Poem

Hello everyone!

My name's Michael, and I'm posting from Burbank, Ca. This is my first post, so I hope you all like it! It's a poem that I wrote a couple months back. I thought I might find an apt audience here. Enjoy.

Experience

Sensations mapped onto mind-made-matrices,
Echoing interference patterns, perpetually propelled, rippling throughout.

Reverberations.

The wellspring is founded on its nearest neighbor,
“Let me lean on you” it commands, subtly, unnoticed.
It goes on leaning, lending ideas of meaning.

Concepts.

Emotions navigated,
Reactions based on previous patterns, imprinted reverberations,
Still echoing into eternity ever-rewriting the matrices; the maps.
Conditionings, subtle, unnoticed; just echoes.

Imprints.

Memories re-experienced in ignorance,
Unrecognized; Thought to be external stimulation.
Navigation through previous programs, or new experiences?

Provocation.

Collectively protesting acceptance of Grandeur,
Pushings and pullings; graspings, aversions;
Born into societal perversions.
Hierarchal projections, professions, corrections, repressions.
Whoring away infinite potential.
Forgetting the unconscious desire to ignore; we drift into separation, gladly.

Floating.

Cosmic conduit; constricted, controlled, contracted, closed
The Media-cracy destroys, societal faux-joys conjure and deploy,
Girls and boys, Saturated in a Sea of Impotence.

Lies.

Negativity; conservatives conserving nothing but comfort based on past identity.
The infinite defined as, attached to, experiences gone, of presents that have passed.
Tomorrow is an excuse for the obtuse to use.
Floating on life rafts made of meaning to keep from drowning,
In this ocean of truth.
You continue to weave the fabric of yourself; only in the Mind.

Systems.

Antique worries come in flurries,
Basic needs seem to supersede those of lofty goals,
We need ascenders, understanding and kind, anti-contenders reaching up high.

Love.

Thinking requires division; language is rotten with fission,
And reading is scanning line by line.
You’re taking your time, yet reality is instantaneous.

Now.

Universal gestalts fall apart, the whole is decried,
And simultaneous apprehension is muddled with externally projected intentions.

Crumbling.

Reverberate, echo; interference patterns infinitely complex,
Suppress yourSelf into the unconscious for sake of fear.

Fear of Grandeur.

Realization destroys destruction.
Understanding annihilates apprehension.
But without constrictions, controls, structures, and poles
It’s one ever-flowing ever-present manifold.

One.

It’s too much to handle for fear of individual dissolution.
Attachments, feelings, personality, experiences crumble into the solution,
Absorbed back into the ether.

Vibrations.

Ideas. Echoes. Reverberations, waves, holographic frequencies, imprints, and memories.

You are not your experience,
You are not your ideas,
You are not your words,
You are not your thoughts,
You are not your fucking conditioning!

Masks.

You are not echoes of a moment dissolved.

The present is eternal, infinite; purely aware.
Neither going nor coming, leaving nor staying,

‘I’,
Dissolve away.

3 comments:

THE SCRIBE said...

Dude, that was thee best poem I've read on the entire blog network, thee best. Excellent, excellent, excellent...

Bogus Magus said...

Thanks for the poem Michael! Like the scribe said - excellent stuff.

We started off so keen, and slowly this place turned into something like a monoculture of Bogus postings (not the game plan).

What a delight to have fresh input, of rich and evocative language (I lean to the dry, literal wordage myself).

Michael said...

Wow! Thanks a lot.

:)

I'm quite flattered.

I appreciate your kind words.

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