I walk on a beach of
being
occasionally I pick
up pebbles
put them in my mouth
they speak my words
for me
my mind condones
passively
without formal
attention paid
there is laughter
that comes
brings me to the
brink of now
as I grab for it
with the grasp of
attention
it, who brought me,
laughs at the me
for the attempted
response to the invite
how to embrace
from the silence of
the laugher
without effort,
gesture, meaning,
or the seduction of
repose
no moment pays it forward
with memory
or assumptions being
in carriage of charge
nextness is a shill
and to, by
entitlement, assume
hand-me-down thought
processes
or elbow-to-elbow as
if by association
as the intended
tool-work
in a falsified timely
manner
this ability to
think
presumes in that we
believe
that we are in time
every event
depicting it,
is eventfully losing
it.
the method of
experience is life with a camera
and a mission as if based on story
senses lobby for
foundness
but in the vaster
presumed context of lostness
language condones
separateness
as if we are stand-alone
significance
there is no grip of
experience on oneness
no traction brought
to words
no foreground
obliterating
the background connected
enormity
there is no search
no gain of
sacredness
or security, or soul
nothing of a
triumphant nature
produces sufficient
stature
surrender is to give
up objects,
attachment, attempts
at depiction,
self as relevant dialogue
any causative nature
to thought
even the frame sense
of surrender
must volunteer to it’s
backup plans
to nothingness
so that no
perception is served
by surrender as its
formula
the beach in its
grandness, is awash
and pebbles have
their moments
being these,
tumbling of words . . .
(this is the beginning of the 8th year of daily blog posts) . . .
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