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Tuesday, July 23, 2013

comfort zone caskets * 7/23/13


We live in comfort zone caskets.
Most of the time, not near the walls
but generally facing the vastness
across the casket floor.
Repetition is seen as being operational.
Short attention spans are a form of candy.
The ‘why’ questions seem to die in vain.
A bigger picture is a sense of the immensity
of the casket is one’s use.
Everyone is equipped with peepholes
for viewing their own journey.
Dreams represent ceilings
otherwise unquestioned.
A bucket list is a form of three-card monte.
Goals in life are like a form
of stylized penmanship.
Comparative truth is a type
of divide and conquer.
Membership upholds connections
but contributes mightily to biases
never to be personally challenged.
Success in life often offends
the welfare of the planet, thus ignored.
Enlightened economics is way too complex.
The ‘causal’ concerns spend their best efforts
on religion and the pretense of politics.
Real heath matters seek to be
business successes above all else.
The language of product description
functions best as a hucksterism’s delight.
Thus we take pleasure
from comfort zone caskets.
‘Terminal’ velocity is just being
predisposed to busyness.
Most everything rational is really
a form of reductionism
committed to memory.
‘Say’ is the world,
seen through a miner’s cap light
in the dark of objectification’s glory.
Why the ice of our spiritual lives is so thick,
thaw looks like living to the fullest.
The world of personal secrets is a richer form
of exploration for transformation
then dogma, or a code of ethics
could ever admit into existence.
Family, blood ties, marriage,
all represent shackles too cumbersome
for most people to live beyond.
If you look deeply into any person’s eyes
their spirit is evident, their journey confounding.
Comfort, as a result, is really a timeout,
a lower vibrational means for housing
one’s spirit, bound and gagged in passage.
Casket is self-containment,
a sense of separateness
as an inherent deformity,
a challenge without equal.
Thus we do apparently thrive
in comfort zone caskets . . .

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