poetaindagador
Poeta recién llegado
And it came, the expresion of the man
from the deepness of the self.
It was reflected in the blue lagoon
that the moon light forced to shine
with her volatile life. Explained
every thing that there is to be
below the illusory sky that shined
and darkened the demonstration
of the eternal mind of the man.
A symbiotic being wanting to project
just light brightly enough to
blind all the other minds
that shine around the spaceless
continuous ephemeral time
created by man who built
their ordinary life in myths
creations and beliefs
so extremely that they can't
realize that there is not reason
or necessity to mind about
abortions of the mind retaining
simpleton explanations of what
is around their sides.
Who is the guy who runs all that
(w)holly part of our minds and lives
designed perfectly and beautifully
wrong in our intricate selves?
And the beating heart?
Beats and beats unstoppably
inside giving you energy to rise
your body and mind so then you can
action your apparently called soul
which is the third part of the triangle.
The final piece of the puzzle in the
universe of the unknown answers
the ones that are so obvious
it makes it seem stupid to stop and
contemplate their nature.
As simple as who we reeally are
beyond all that we think we are
or what the fuck am I doing here
in my mind living my life
talking with my mind
reading my words being
born in this universe
of enliven change
brightly yellow life
and deeply dark death
perfectly disposed to us
to travel around without
just really a reason why.
Why do we live I wonder...?
But who cares really about that question
maybe everyone/noone who exists
and develops their mind.
What is to care now is this eternal moment
in which I'm creating an expression
of the deeply insight of whosoever
is running all that in which we are all
involve and travel around {maybe called life}.
This eternal moment inside which so many things
happen and not happen they could happen
or they probably happen but a certain part of those things
just happens spontaneously here and now
and why tell me why you creative mind.
Maybe because the air blew south
or simply because the stakes sat
everything down to all that happens
inside that eternal real momentarily
timeless elapsed {time? life?
mind? world? universe?
existence? words? probabilities?
lights? waves? suns?
days or nights?}.
Who nows really what is the real thing
about anyways?
Although for an eternal moment in shape
a man came painted all the colors that were found
in the serpent bucket {mind}
this abstract image of life
as organic as the sun comes
with his violent sometimes soft
energetic waves took something
beyond that moment-less timeless
a glowing beam of something
unknown beyond all that I know
something concrete in a profound
mysterious and inquiring way
of perfect flawed existence.
And then all is done and in the end
leaves everything undone according to
what it was suppose to be.
from the deepness of the self.
It was reflected in the blue lagoon
that the moon light forced to shine
with her volatile life. Explained
every thing that there is to be
below the illusory sky that shined
and darkened the demonstration
of the eternal mind of the man.
A symbiotic being wanting to project
just light brightly enough to
blind all the other minds
that shine around the spaceless
continuous ephemeral time
created by man who built
their ordinary life in myths
creations and beliefs
so extremely that they can't
realize that there is not reason
or necessity to mind about
abortions of the mind retaining
simpleton explanations of what
is around their sides.
Who is the guy who runs all that
(w)holly part of our minds and lives
designed perfectly and beautifully
wrong in our intricate selves?
And the beating heart?
Beats and beats unstoppably
inside giving you energy to rise
your body and mind so then you can
action your apparently called soul
which is the third part of the triangle.
The final piece of the puzzle in the
universe of the unknown answers
the ones that are so obvious
it makes it seem stupid to stop and
contemplate their nature.
As simple as who we reeally are
beyond all that we think we are
or what the fuck am I doing here
in my mind living my life
talking with my mind
reading my words being
born in this universe
of enliven change
brightly yellow life
and deeply dark death
perfectly disposed to us
to travel around without
just really a reason why.
Why do we live I wonder...?
But who cares really about that question
maybe everyone/noone who exists
and develops their mind.
What is to care now is this eternal moment
in which I'm creating an expression
of the deeply insight of whosoever
is running all that in which we are all
involve and travel around {maybe called life}.
This eternal moment inside which so many things
happen and not happen they could happen
or they probably happen but a certain part of those things
just happens spontaneously here and now
and why tell me why you creative mind.
Maybe because the air blew south
or simply because the stakes sat
everything down to all that happens
inside that eternal real momentarily
timeless elapsed {time? life?
mind? world? universe?
existence? words? probabilities?
lights? waves? suns?
days or nights?}.
Who nows really what is the real thing
about anyways?
Although for an eternal moment in shape
a man came painted all the colors that were found
in the serpent bucket {mind}
this abstract image of life
as organic as the sun comes
with his violent sometimes soft
energetic waves took something
beyond that moment-less timeless
a glowing beam of something
unknown beyond all that I know
something concrete in a profound
mysterious and inquiring way
of perfect flawed existence.
And then all is done and in the end
leaves everything undone according to
what it was suppose to be.
