Thursday, June 14, 2012

The Ineffable. Unspoken. Unsought.

“I’m as dark as December; I’m as cold as the man in the moon”-Sting.

Lines that draw between the unspoken; blur, bend, twist & contort: In & around every phase of me.
The golden age of being, of existence and of the state of me. I am you and you are me. Blend. Breathe. Exist. Be.

Walk down a flight of stairs to the wine shop and get a bottle of wine. Pay for it with means that serve you and walk right back up. Slowly as you ascend, the flight of stairs feel like a stair way to heaven. A one way ticket to your being. To revel in the spirit of me. The spirit of me.

The spirit I would soon engulf, swallow, slithers down my throat, starting from my mouth flowing down into my stomach and the core of me. I speak of me, as frequent as I be as I see.

Now, descending into me is my being. It is me who lowers my existence into the deepest depths known to me. ‘Me’ figures again so as to paint a figure that eludes me, in state of consciousness that I cannot see.
The brain comprehends, establishing an element of time. Of space and travelling to & from the eternal.
Every moment that passes by, yawning of it’s spawning. Thawed into being, pushed into seeing, the wine kicks back. Pushes and pulls me into a lull of euphoria. To revel in this phase of my hour, is to dwell on the pieces of me that lay scattered. Scattered yet one. One yet many. For I have not won, but spun into this myriad abyss that absorbs me further.

Further into the void. The void of me.

The void of being. The void spun by the society around me, to suck into it’s vice grip that tightens its noose around me. A slipknot that with every passing moment, only seeks to asphyxiate.
It’s not all that bad, when the day has been mad.

Had, which slipped through my fingers. Fingers that couldn’t hold on. Don’t get me wrong, you are the eternal. The golden being. The very droplet of rain that brings warmth. Fold the mould and watch it bend. Push the point, that stands at the joint. The joint that takes you from anorexia to gluttony. From an altering state of mind, to the truth you stand to find. Where every millisecond, my mind can only unravel as much as it can decipher. In this state of its enigmatic existence, is what you find that is the truth. The truth eternal. Which can stand on its own two feet of faith and move forward only as its veil is lifted to reveal a null.

The kingdom come, of which only some. Only some. Would make em, swallow that glum. That rum which overpowers the wine. The wine that only makes your transcend. Into, through, me & you. It’s this spirit that I feel, it’s this spirit that makes me squeal of things unsaid. Unspoken speaks more than words. The silence that falls still, the moment that holds in. The yearning that makes believe. The lie that’s woven, the words unspoken.

From me to you, & from you to me. What we are, is what we believe. But step back, take a plunge into the beauty of being. The joy of existence, of breathing this air. Makes it all fair, bright and colorful that drenches in it, the spirit of me. That spirit of me, far removed, I seek to find. To me, to bind. The spindle of time, that weaves every moment into the very fabric of my soul. The golden threads of this connect with you.

Connect this connect, don’t disconnect and select. A fresh new being, a fresh new soul. A fresh new you, and a deep black hole. The mole that turned into a mountain shall boast of its rise to fame that seeks to flame everything held dear. The ascension through phases, the phases of me. The me of you and the you of me. Of each other, we draw. Little by little, drop by drop. Until we stand still & then we stop.

Swim into me, sink into me. Blink not your eye, for this moment shall cease. The continuum of space and time, of words and rhyme. Of birds and the wind chime, of sounds and breaking new ground.

Till these words that escape my vein, they shall stand stolid. Stolid not the word, you perceive only as you believe. You see as you wish to seek. To seek only what ye know. To lands beyond, to kings dethroned. To minions controlled and the mind on a leash. The leash, that works as a harness of taking me back and forth. On this day, the fourth; I declare sanity in insanity. Of logic & reason, blending together the spirit of this season. With no rhyme and reason, I move further towards the deep, the darkness that lay below me, gentle as it absorbs, brings me in. Into its ineffable self.

Of words that leave my fingers, of veins let loose. Of blood that is flowing, of thunder that shall follow. The calm that hangs low before the storm, of me and my form.

From the C, to the A. From the D to the E. Oh dear you; who might read, this tyranny of me. This unspeakable state I see, this unfathomable darkness that descends, into, under and through. This darkness that absorbs seeks the light at the end of the tunnel. A funnel that only takes, as you move further. Further to conquer the unknown. The ineffable. The unspoken. The unsought.

Above & beyond, of none he knows. Of equality of gender, of this world that whips people together in a blender.

Of times spoken as golden, its words that solder the meaning, the purpose. The adipose, the bereft, the line of it and the disparity within.

Mind games that serve, serve a purpose of swerve to the rhythm of the soul that lays unconquered. Of winds, and moments spent. Of ticks & tocks, of clocks that wound. Boiled, filatured. unwound.
Condense into me. Oh ye the reader, despite you be that part of the despicable me which might read from the eye but not from the heart, I banish thee to my fleeting memory. Shall I come across as bare and barren, shall you not make sense of all this spoken and felt.

Cards were dealt, shall you draw a joker. The joke which leaves you speechless is what I leave you to guess. For if you shall not feel my feeling, shall not hear what I’m hearing. For you who shall not see what I’m seeing, or connect with my being. It is you who shall stop this instant, to move further is not too distant. Make amends, think from your mind and feel with your heart. It’s only our open arms that populate the swarms with the love that we speak, of shall not depart back into that stolid state of me.
Drift away, float into me. Don’t stand there staring, it’s not for you to see.  

To make sense, is futile. To think it over, is vile. Live. Breathe. Exist. Be.

For when you shall feel from your heart & think from your mind, is when you seek and you shall find.

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