I keep standing
Farther and farther back
Trying to push the waves back
That roll ever in upon the sand
Only to crash as wind
Is displaced within
The hydro-active arc
The words within me seem to grow ever fonder of themselves,
So I start to speak in abstract.
Then
Some of a sudden
All that exists is somewhat
More purely expressed through
The apparatus of thought’s body
Verbally as well as fluidly
Dance-esque in appearance
I somewhat fully attempt
To understand the feeling
Of all that exists
Simultaneously
Upon which I am thoroughly compelled
To react to the immensity of it all
In such a manner as to suggest
That no other possible action should suffice
To artistically, interpretively,
Demonstrate the transcendental state
Of cosmic consciousness,
Were such an experience even possible
Which I highly doubt
Due to the fact that
The energy of the whole universe combined
Would overload your capacity
To remain organized matter,
And thus you
As you presently know yourself
Would cease to exist.
As I stopped speaking in abstract
I noticed not a single wave
Had even been minutely moved back
By my standing farther and farther back
About the Creator
Conjury
Poetry, reveries, and streams of consciousness. Musings, revelries, and free dreams of consonance. Metaphysics, philosophy, and magick cognizance. Writing things that make me high and do a dance.
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