stark-face, staring at the unmentionables
hiding behind all that presents and represents.
the mind-fill always reaching
over the counter of self-awareness for engorgement.
so mundane as if to be the stream-think of daily life
by conscious consumption as the pace of the day.
how thick this moment is in mind-full ways.
can’t pick out one thing, one thought
that can represent the all of it.
just a drop of water from the ongoing stream.
whatever is tagged as representative
is really a force for denial for the all of it,
an obscenity, a thing, a standalone
in the wake of the massiveness of the ongoing.
why does mind-full stream with that
which bobs to the surface
as if recognition is some life-saving technique,
some firm grip on this moment for sanity’s sake.
yet muddledom hums along,
even if never vocalized.
there are internal walls with echos from it.
there is murmur under foot with it.
there is reek, thick with memory, of it.
language is bad geometry usage
under-dimensionalizing for conscious consumption.
to live for the want of full-frontal as soul.
done with the toast from a goblet,
the drink from a glass,
the sip from a bowl.
I want the all of it.
ocean as a way of giving up on ‘I’.
earth as a way of embrace beyond the ego.
solar system as a way of humble presence of being.
and the universe as a sense of wholeness
consciously un-denied.
I am hurting with think,
ambushed by thought,
captive of my bodily senses as means.
want to throw words away
and the medium that uses and makes them.
want everywhere to become the means
and subsequently therefore meaningless.
no more the disease of particulars advancing
no more the preoccupation of differences
no more the advance of conclusions’ confinement.
isness is wealth,
living is confinement
self-consciousness is not duty-free.
life is the vastness between thoughts
and living is the think
that never gives in to thought
either by perception, awareness, cognition,
insight, understanding, discernment, or subsequent retention.
I want to sip the now with no side-effects
as if to be a person of experience.
chaos is my homeland, laughing kindly.
inquiry is a black slick surface reflecting how far
I would have to come
as a person with the baggage of needing to know
and the methods of investigation, analysis, and conclusions
as my primary means.
now has no way,
composed of all means,
leaves no evidence,
is non-referential.
you can have think
but no thought of it
has ever been realized into existence.
so, stark-faced, staring at the unmentionables,
hiding behind all that presents and represents,
the mind-fill always reaching
over the counter of self-awareness for engorgement.
so mundane as if to be the stream-think of daily life
by conscious consumption as the pace of the day.
how thick is this moment, in mind-full ways.
can’t pick out one thing, one thought
that can represent the it of the all . . .
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