Friday, November 14, 2014


No containing the unstable liquids within. Concrete, lead, fail spectacularly, bursting, crumbling, disseminating poison in dissolution.

Equanimity is as fleeting as joy or triumph and in its impermanence is suffering just like everything else.

This moment won't hold. This love. This safety. It's already passed, destroyed by observation.

This sky will rain acid. This earth will breathe mercury. This body will breathe dirt.

You, my love, my reason, are a wisp, a puff, a fragmentary figment.

We, together, this holy union, a notion, and the believers strung up, pilloried, crucified, and piked line the road ahead and behind.

I hate to talk so, but sideways, with averted eyes, is the only way to approach Truth, because to see Truth is to know death. To know death is to be free. To be free is to let go of attachment. To let go of attachment is to see the futility of desire. To see the futility of desire is to know death.

You want sense? It doesn't exist. You want justification? I present to you sheaves of it.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

You are quite a poet. Like your paternal granddad. Like your aunt to the west. -- s29