I do not want to be surrounded
by what turns me on.
I want to live beyond on-ness.
I do not want to be the fixed burn
in this, a fall back life.
I want to be fully aware
of all the rules of on-ness.
And surrender to a life
yet beyond on-ness.
No stimulation to be in response.
No dream to live alive and claim.
No proof of worth to demonstrate.
No story to fulfill, pulling me along.
To surrender, beyond on-ness.
Art beyond the frame as coming.
Isness without the wail or wishing.
Presence without the claim solidifying.
All things made out of oneness
as they are confluent and stream.
Fluid beyond what measures.
Time is as a mobius strip in passing.
Space beyond what its gifting means.
Not a here nor there to locate.
No edges made of something solidified.
Just fluid, viscous, into overflow.
Where mass as wardrobe,
winks back, and knows.
Yes, beyond what turns me on,
and be . . .
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