Sunday, May 31, 2009

surrealism has won the day--

ain't the joyous marxbros movie
we thought it'd be

(er winged octopus...can't have a surrealist poem
without a winged octopus in there...)

otherwise turds buzz flies
bill knott commits suicide yet again by lying in the street
and jumping off the curb into the sky

and a large sun glows brown as an arclamp
under yet another chariot of the gods
that thinks we're a pit stop
on the way to some black hole
eating another universe 8 trillion light years away

I fear I will go down in the cataclysm
one of many
instead of being on top of Mt Kathadin
watching assholes float by

boy not ready for transcendence am I?

(why is that odd bearded face staring down at me
though a tear in the clouds?)

this is what happens when I've nothing in particular in mind
and various  transmissions float through my brain

think I'll put a sign on my forehead saying
"SHOUT---FOOL AT WORK"
and leave me at this keyboard while I go elsewhere

for real--

                                Content (c) 2008-2009 Philip Milito

Saturday, May 30, 2009

for one moment

I thought

Time

did not

exist and so

was disqualified




                                        Content (c) 2008-2009 Philip Milito

Thursday, May 28, 2009

as I wonder what supermassive black hole
I must build a cosmology around

my faintest flutter of heart
will sustain no further fantasy of expectation

and justification       I do not know what vortex
will consume all conditions or consciousness

but shortly a lifetime of waiting will reach
its apotheosis and in a mere time of three

more spins or so around the sun
this world will finally after the eons of prophecies

see exactly and finally how this long-awaited apocalypse
will really go down     and at last we will stand on  a precipice

entirely what we are and  our actual living reality
at last sustained by Awareness    our notions released


                                                                           *


oh here I go again
another listless depressed day
and I'm taking refuge in my imagining
of transcendence

hard to live with the false
assumptions
and a thousand times worse
to live without them


                                                                              *

              Content (c) 2008-2009 Philip Milito.  All rights reserved.


                                                         

Friday, May 22, 2009

How blessed to be alive
In the time of the turds!

                                                                             *

I lived through enough suffering
(Back there in my youth--during
The ending Piscean Age)

To last several lifetimes
Over the coming ages--

I'm not lovin' it...

But

If the old light bulb lights

And a transcendence beyond what
Can ever be imagined lifts away that detrius

I would finally be back to all
That I actually am and would never
Recognize myself...


                                                                            *

I swamp with awareness

Including the knowledge of our
Limited worldly estate--

The mocking of Materialists
I am used to--

Yet who but an idiot would try
To tell an idiot that he's an idiot?

Being in the earth one is broken down
By others and as my buggy rolls free and careening

Down an assumption disguised as a prompting
I renounce vanity at last convinced it's a sucker's game--

I turn inward but not away--the strength to maintain
Slipping away but for the float that bobs me on waves as

Awareness swamps me...





                   Content (c) 2008-2009 Philip Milito.  All rights reserved.

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

It all came together    at last...

A spark in the sky
And the night opened...



                                                                               *

Such it is for the entity in the earth--

That in order to live you must die--
Anxious and cruelly terse

In earthbound incomprehension of why--


                                                                              *

Watch out for 
The hot old foxes--

     Even more than
The young        they will

Blow you in front
For your money

Then laugh behind your back
While they spend it


                                                                              *

I can feel the finish line looming--

Not see it  mind you
But feel it--

Emanating invisibly as
Out a crooked tunnel
In overlay
Upon my sight--

Every step bringing me closer
To the mad last dash
And the ribbon snapped
By the hurling body--

The race with myself done
In which neither I nor myself won--
The Higher-Self-'I' taking a lesson
While lower-case 'me'

Lies paralyzed in the spent shell--
But as cheering fades and dissolves
And sight goes black
And soul peels out from completed skin--

Feeling comes to certainty--
As I go the line will trip me unawares and

I     at last   will see..


                                                                            *

We resume  (how appropriate for a Mercury
Retrograde)
                         and what will come will come--
Keep busy
Stay active
Do what you must and be done

It will turn out as it will--

Put your whole being in one laser focus
Of will and attention on whatever of yours is at hand

And fix the first breach that set you on your way
Continuing....

                      Content (c) 2008-2009 Philip Milito.