THE TAMING OF INERTIA (Penned in early twenties)

Why must we shoot popcorn kernels at the moon,
when we know that Salvation is truly
a slow taming of Inertia
by an inside force?
For what is at rest remains so only
through our own will to disempowerment.
And this is so, too, when formulating loneliness,
and the insurmountable gravity we are all irredeemably encumbered by.
Yet still, we seek a kindred galaxy,
when we are all truly lone stars.
And when we come to grips with this solipsistic certainty we cry out-
Shall Eternity be thicker than Time, why must I feel so betrayed?
For when there is no tangible seed with which to fertilize the soul,
a sort of metaphysical parthenogenesis occurs,
and thus is born from this barren egg, the separate Self,
a miracle offspring of the disunified Essence.

Yet even knowing of the fragility of the time-space continuum
of mortal human existence,
which many name Fate,
we neglect it and it soons abandons us,
as our lives are possessed by the laws of Life's inconsistent equations,
all nontheless continuing on a 360 degree axis,
for what goes around and comes around must continually meet at a moot point.

Thus, the synthesis of Realism & Idealism again fails to come to fathomable fruition,
as the Mind passively perceives while the Spirit
and its vehicle, the Body, dynamically & kinesthetically fail to respond,
the eradication of mere premonition coming continually to naught.

For only when the taming of inertia from within begins,
can we be brought to full revolution & evolution,
so the grieving of the loss of any and all former incarnations
may, in due finity be found,
and the loss of our grief, also no longer lamented, find common ground.

And the Laws Of Nature,
and the Philosophical Physics of the Mortal Experiment
may allow the human organism to undergo Gradualism of another kind,
as old traits no longer self-preservatory
are phased out day by day,
by the inimitable laws of Spirit Evolution-
that which will defy all Rhyme & Reason
as it proves someday, beyond the lurking shadows
of any Doubt, that eventually, what goes up, cannot come down.

-Art by Patrick McEvoy "Miss Universe" at http://www.fantasygallery.net/

LIVES NOT ON BREAD ALONE (Penned in my twenties)

Like water to lightning,
a seismic jolt of frisson
rattles and French-kisses the sentience of cognition,
and I am all at once made both fragmented and whole
within the scatter-sighted eye of Lust's suspension of burgeoning.

What is its mystery?
Does it covet only Beauty?
For not all the eye sees does it want,
and not all the eye longs to take in, does it see.

Along with food, sheltering, love and hydration lies Longing,
an essential of costly underestimation and omission.
And truly, is it a matter of what we want, or what wants us?
The latter too often opposes the former.
Is the Who desired any more nobly than the it?
For you see, with Lust, the lusted after is always merely an object
of the subjectification of our need for need.

Without want, we so quickly become wanted not,
especially by those who wanted us only at the very peak of our wanting them.
Perhaps this explains why, even after the had-not is now possessed,
want tends to either completely wane or intensify.

Yet our utmost decline always begins at that moment
when we must ask ourselves what we want,
and can no longer provide the answer, for ourselves.

AN ESCHATOLOGY IN VERSE

The blood toils in longing,
The mind fills with rage,
For want of infinitely wronging,
The false righteousness of the Cage.

1/3 of the sea of the seventh seal one day will bleed,
As the breath of all life turns to poison,
The slaves of the Beast will continue to breed,
Satan's final exert of foison.

In the last days those who have lived under virtuous restraint,
The very same ones with the toiling blood and righteously rage-filled minds,
Will be exalted in immortalization,
In the new bodies granted them, pure, and without taint,
As God grants a final cessation-
The beginning of a new end,
Never to be known again.

A PRIORI (Penned in twenties)

To ask the questions or to live them?
To receive the answers or to give them?
To feud with Day and ally by Night?
Or steer 'round the way, from Sorrow and Plight?
To preserve Innocence at the potential cost of Survival?
To make life your Lover and no longer your Rival?
To love to hate for mere Hate's sake?
Or love only to love and stun Hate right at Heaven 's gate?
To lose to win or to win to lose?
Or see only "good" or "bad" in whatever you choose?
To live whilst ye are young?
Or to remain tragically unsung?
To mate like the swan or to flit to and fro like the honeybee?
To commit to the Dawn?
Or cavort in the Gloaming for all Eternity?
To speak only with words sparing yet true?
Or let loose at every turn, with a loquacious slew?
Thus betraying a heart of wisdom others once thought you knew,
To jump into impartial affusion?
Or riddle the Mind and tax the Soul with hasty conclusion?
What will ye do, of these aforementioned ways to go?
Whose noose-the Devil's or thine own, will ye sow?

ODE TO THE OPTIMIST

Sensations of joy,
Are my main ploy,
I laugh in the face of all adversity,
Love those vs. me,
And never say 'Goodbye' but 'Ahoy!'

ODE TO THE PESSIMIST

Sensations of pain seize far more than those of pleasure,
For the mortal human mind,
Rarely ceases to find,
The seaweed before the treasure.

THE RIVER: A HAIKU TRUE

River rushes by
I am stagnant by its side
yet flowing with it.

BIRDS OF LIFE: A HAIKU TRUE

Mountain birds singing
tiny wings as they flutter

make the air I breathe.