the only one we will have for all eternity
though patterns abide
the particulars will never be the same--
March 25, 2010--
and the last part of the day's already gone
so Dylan and the Bible inform us
and as they and all the rest of 'we' know the situation to be--
*
another closure another opening
on all levels simultaneously--
no wonder we never know if we're coming
or just gone--
*
the moment you mark the eternal
in the incidentals of this world
the moment passes--
and you're back in the world--
a crowing victory for those earth-bound hell-bound
who want your company on the way
to perdition--
only through this world do we get
to the other worlds--
some go right and some go wrong
with really nowhere else to go
*
on the spot I'm swallowed whole
the spot was a mouth
and I the morsel that fed its hell
*
now who wants to challenge
the unbreakable habits
that chain us to the wheel
of death and rebirth
(yes these things still and always will matter
despite the comfort of touch
in a solid-looking world--
despite not being a consideration
of any kind in the current discourse
of minds in the disarray of apocalypse)
I tried and a gimp of lifelong street living
shook me wake (just a word
turd) he might as well've been
God's own barking spider
conducting me to the air of acceptance
that we forget the purpose
when we are too wed to our...what?
*
howmuchiwantyouitgrievesmetothinkwhatiwouldhavetodo
tobewithoutyouinthiseternitythishoaxthisjestthatseparatesmefrom
whatIlovetotestmeforsomeeverlastingIamalreadylivingbut
squanderingatanagonyofdesireforyouforyouforyouforyou
*
God I can remember when such tricks were considered art
*
is anybody somebody
that fuels our vanity
because we are not aware
somebody is anybody
*
the valiant are fools
they fight for illusions that glorify themselves
in some ways like the one who creates
a danger to others so he may ride in and play hero--
what a pitifully tiny ambition
to play God and mess with the destinies of dunces
*
Oh hell help me help
this little rabbit got his side torn out by buckshot
before the little man in the cottage
could bid me enter and abide
at least I won't end up cooked in herbs
by a barbarian
*
I've lost track of everything--
a lifetime rolls away like scattered pearls
from a broken necklace--
oh Goddess damn it!
*
to say God or Goddess denotes the sex
of the worshipper--
the perpetual danger of projection
of our own image on the universe
*
bloody and pink
the moon
after a night of bloodshed--
the joys of citizenry
upholding the brief time of their ignorant triumph
against the inevitably of the ceaselessly morphing
process of coming to be and falling away--
the human race has been utterly insane
since it began walking on the earth--
insanity is our worldly condition
and the tears in heaven the tears of realization
a slap to the spiritual forehead that says
what the hell was I thinking?
*
Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
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