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Sunday, May 8, 2016

experience itself 5/8/16

imagine a child’s experience, climbing a tree
and in its own quite limited way,
the tree was attempting to hug back.
when is experience more than a bleacher seat?
all creatures communicate with each other
yet we, humans, function in understanding-override.
we train animals rather than communicate with them.
experience is our prison of location,
our prism of sense-limitation.
we are the staircase up
without a possibility of levitation.
we tread on dreams in the lockdown ocean of logic.  
we are the creators of encryption
hidden within the tears that we cry.
we know little of the melody
that raindrops silently stream-sing in passing,
for we are umbrella mentality
and the apprehension from thought-form floods.
experience is our b. o. of the mind.
it exudes linearity against free-flight whimsy.
experience expects full frontal,
does not guarantee any in-depth clarity.
experience is a season ticket holder.
it is our involuted boa constrictor
using our shallow breathing to fully compress us
inside  out, by what we claim as real.
experience is lip sync karaoke
sung by the retentive mind.
it is a three-card-monti game of short attention spans.
where would we be
without the white cane of remembrance?
without the hearing aid of self justified?
without our kinesthetic-visceral as self-identity?
hey, not that we’re not what we are.
experience is a form of intimate tagalong,
a sense of self as fluid decals on bones as baggage.
experience is life-force buffoonery
posing as vitality on display.
we are unbeknownst, a persuasion in oneness,
under the experiential supervision
of separatism, always recovering from discord.
experience itself, is our oxymoron of being.
experience does not help us to help each other
out of our habit of superficial helping.
experience is a religion of process without verbs.
it is an art-form of labeling-diminishment,
the grand hording of all parts.
how can you turn and face experience
and not see beyond yourself as a hypocrite?
what vanities of the mind and consciousness exist
outside of this experience realm?
look, if we took off our clothes,
got out of our bodies, let go of our minds,
how far down that road would we have to go
before we let go, of experience itself?

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