15 October 2013

Chapter 271 - The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)


CCLXXI

Everyone has as one set of capacities and limitations or another.
None can ever aspire to play out more than they are
But through reflections of imagination.

* * * *
From greatest to the least,
All truly sovereign within.

* * * *
What the human paradigm is,
How it could have been,
Might someday be.
The illustrious “if only”
Echoing through the maze
In the dreamy wonder of time.

* * * *
Sometimes it seems like this is first time
You have ever really awakened,
Though surely it is not,
Or is it,
Given that now
Is ever the same naught.

* * * *
Once you have scaled the zenith of truth,
There’s really no going back down,
So why cling to any ladder?

* * * *
Isn’t this world harsh enough
Without those who have
Neither need nor knack for it,
Joining in at being boorish and unkind.

* * * *
In this ever-flowing moment,
You are truly that which is called god,
The memory of which, is the fall from grace.

* * * *
The current fad will inevitably make an appearance
In a variety of yard sales and flea markets,
As it makes its long, squalid journey
To being just another thin layer
In one landfill or another.

* * * *
You are that source from which all things spring.
You are earth, sun, moon and stars,
And all space between.
And none of them all the while.

* * * *
Cynical wonder.

* * * *
We are all born
Of the same womb,
Live in the same house,
And share the same grave.

* * * *
It really doesn’t mean squat
To anyone but you, and you alone,
And even that indifferent reality
Is of relatively short duration.

* * * *
Some here-now in one tomorrow or another,
Will be in the here-now soon enough.
Give attention to the here-now
Being allotted here-now,
And you will know,
You will be,
The grace,
The inviolability
Of that which is eternal.

* * * *
In the topsy-turvy of all things absurd,
One topsys, the other turvys, one turvys, the other topsys.
One man’s confusion is another’s order.

* * * *
Every life form has its own sensory universe,
None ultimately more or less real
Than any other.

* * * *
Even the most incorrigible demon
Serves its meager part, its divine function,
In the theater of consciousness.

* * * *
Ignorance is a hell of its own.

* * * *
El grandito infinito.

* * * *
You need not travel far to attain infinity.

* * * *
Curious how it is always left
To the next generation
To work it out.

* * * *
Ambition, what was that, anyway?

* * * *
More toys than longing to play with them.

* * * *
Where are you
When the mind’s chatter
Grows still?

* * * *
Children of a lesser quantum.

* * * *
Does any cancer fathom itself a cancer?

* * * *
To label any life form or thing a resource
Likely sets its temporal, worldly course
Toward exploitation, depletion or extinction.

* * * *
Fighting the good fight is rarely, if ever, easy,
Especially when a wave knocks you flat,
Another one coming up only seconds behind,
And who knows how many more following after that.

* * * *
The dust of eternity courses in your veins.

* * * *
You don’t have to recall all the details
To know the essence.

* * * *
The irony of paradox
And the paradox of irony
Are the helix of time
Born of eternity.

* * * *
Sounds good, anyway.

* * * *
All things ordered by mind
Deprive the natural order
Its penchant for spontaneity.

* * * *
An inexplicable madness
That is the most ordinary quality of mind
Consciousness can attain.

* * * *
Very challenging to be free of all patterning.

* * * *
Ironic how compassion for others
Often creates even more suffering.

* * * *
How could it be even remotely possible
For an omnipresent, omniscient, omnipotent god
To be separate in any way, shape or form.

* * * *
You are but a minute ripple in the stream of time,
Which itself is but an infinitesimal capillary
In the inestimable ocean of eternity.

* * * *
Fate is merely playing out the role
To which one is most inclined.

* * * *
Dubiously curious
What any given culture
Considers normal.

* * * *
The precipice of the abyss
Is well-cloaked by gravity.

* * * *
Faith, hope and belief offer little aid
In the reconciliation you truly seek.

* * * *
The Great Whatever.

* * * *
Each and every name ever given it
Is just another wisp of sound
Born of, fathomed by,
That which you truly are.

* * * *
Do not be bound by mortality.
It is of no lasting duration.

* * * *
All things rise, all things decline
In the relativity of one duration or another.

* * * *
Whether or not anyone else ever discerns it,
We are each and every one, very much alone.

* * * *
The surest way to ignore what dare not be realized
Is to ridicule or destroy with little or no reflection.

* * * *
Do not be looking to anyone else
To tell you what to do, or how to live.
Fathom your own mind, find your own way.
Do not fear standing alone.

* * * *
All this is meant for those
Whose fate it is to awaken.
All others are for now pawns,
Rudderless in the wave of time.

* * * *
In every mind’s eye,
The same witness.

* * * *
Any history is only as real
As the memory allotted.

* * * *
Yes, it’s that simple.

* * * *
Who knows what death will choose you.

* * * *
The heavens are as infinite
As a mind untarnished by time.

* * * *
Over and over you pinch yourself to forget.

* * * *
We are all distracted by so much absurdity.
The only real question is, how much of it
Are you able to disregard, dislodge or suspend
In the quest to be free to witness what there is to see.

* * * *
You will know your brief mortal existence is in decline
When cars stop slowing down, and nary a beep blares its lustful approbation.
And if that never happened when you were younger and sweeter,
Well, the fates can be pitiless in many more ways
Than we might wish to imagine.

* * * *
Another self-absorbed gnat.

* * * *
Same clay,
A different day.

* * * *
The immeasurable
Can only be measured
To the nth degree.

* * * *
An unreflective mind
Is no friend of wisdom.

* * * *
The gift of wonder few crave to discern.

* * * *
An unparalleled, paradigm-shaking lesson
About the infinite nature of singularity
Is a-dawning upon the horizon.

* * * *
All is relative until boiled down to the absolute.

* * * *
What wonders, what blessings, what horrors,
Are being fashioned in laboratories and garages,
That will inevitably add to the vast host of footprints
Already crisscrossing the besieged landscape.

* * * *
An inescapable conclusion is an inescapable conclusion.
No amount of vain wishful thinking or effort
Can prescribe otherwise.

* * * *
Another meditative day for words of a random nature
To flow uninhibited from the matrix of consciousness.

* * * *
To discern what ends these words will meet, if any,
Is but an imaginary ponder only time will ever know.

* * * *
Inner simplicity is the surest means to freedom.

* * * *
This is a work that wrote itself
One serendipitous thought at a time,
Until that final wheezing breath
Stole away the given mind.

* * * *
All stand up in time,
For as long as time allows.

* * * *
Back to the future,
Where nature rules.

* * * *
Stylized anything
Is rife with limitations.

* * * *
Pen and paper in hand,
And the discipline to use them.

* * * *
Belief and faith are comfortably meaningless.

* * * *
A wryly humorous, curmudgeonly day, it is, it is.

* * * *
Science, with all its astute observations and measurements,
Must eventually reach an impenetrable wall
Of profound inexplicability.

* * * *
What barbaric notion would inspire a species to adorn its liveing spaces
With the castrated sexual organs of another species,
And then, without irony, call it love.

* * * *
Milo Minderbinder continues to bedazzle us all
Into a quandary from which there is no escape.

* * * *
To awaken to totality
Is all any one can really do.
And it cannot be cajoled or coerced.
You either see it, or you don’t.

* * * *
The most manageable prison
Is the one in which the prisoners
Are all passionate volunteers.

* * * *
Nothing in spades.

* * * *
Beware my fine young pretty,
Else a two-legged will catch you,
Flail you, and gobble you all up

* * * *
Memory allows all to wander every aspect
That imagination may render an interest.

* * * *
It’s all one,
But some facets of the oneness
Are more conducive to your continued interest and well-being.

* * * *
The world, the universe you juggle in your mind,
All the memories, anxieties, obligations, possessions,
And on and on, ever on, can be more than a little exhausting.
Sometimes you just need to set it all down, and wander about alone,
Unconcerned about anything or anyone, including your Self.

* * * *
How many twists and turns a mind must take
To want to wantonly torture another life form.

* * * *
That hoard of wealth, that pile of gold,
Is a relative, ephemeral state of mind.

* * * *
Any given universe
Can be so easily undone
With such mundane panache.

* * * *
Hell is, indeed, in the details.

* * * *
Not a state of mind
You would ever have,
Could ever have, predicted.

* * * *
That which you have come to expect
Is likely that which will manage to continue.

* * * *
Well, that’s not much of a question, now is it.

* * * *
If that is what you call love, I think I will take a pass.

* * * *
A true gourmet can dine happily
On the relativity of nearly any delicacy.
Even hemlock likely has a memorable zestiness,
Were anyone still around to recall it.

* * * *
Through what happenchance
Did a copy or link of these onerous writings,
This chronicle, this soliloquy of across-the-board ponderings.
Show up in your dream of time?
Oh, happy fate,
Perhaps, perhaps not.


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The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)
© Michael J. Holshouser 2009
World Rights Reserved