Long Live 12am Poetic Outpours.

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Many lay claim,

“The Day of Judgement is coming!
Seek comfort in the Lord,
The Gracious,
The Merciful,
Repent!
For we have transgressed,
Or a fire burdened eternal awaits.”

Wake.
There is no such other-worldly flame,
Nor a hidden garden-
Guarded by a snake.

Heaven and Hell only exist,
Within the present moment,
The simple smile’s twist,
The perception of an opponent.

Such states,
You lay responsible for,
Heaven never shuts it’s gates,
For the one that is aligned with their core.

Quietly such strong one,
Deliberately seeks growth,
In sorrow’s company- hurt and lone,
Knowing that oneness- is both.

Sitting ever so presently,
On the throne of crownèd thorns,
Forever in pregnancy,
Of the self without horns.

Fearing not,
The unknown knife,
But embracing such a gnat,
Directly in what permits life.

Wise ones fear,
Death before life,
Not before the mother is clear,
Wise ones fear dying for ‘afterlife.’

For those that do,
Lay in strife and pride,
Denying themself,
Their present bride,
Deluded by eternal health,

Lowly seeking power without,
Blindly passing power within,
Raising mountains over gout,
Refusing to sit with such troubles-
Hand it a gin!

The Unwise walk forever towards,
What is beyond all our reach,
Passing by Nature’s Lord,
Speeding through life on preach.

When death comes,
Misfortune befalls the dying,
Pity forever be- such defeating glum,
Those who die before living.

Herein their deathbed,
Soaked in self-denial,
Becomes regret bred,
For they-
Did not sit presently with the trial.

Meanwhile,
When the Wise die,
They cease in simple style,
Becoming as expansive as the sky.

For the Wise,
Seek innards in outwards,
Divine mirrored in the eyes,
Enduring without words.

For such a subject,
Seek outwards in Innards,
Subject in object,
Experts in beginners.

Such that when they walk,
The East and West cease,
To confuse them with gawk,
Merely the universe folds without a cease.

When they talk,
They find all the Friend,
Even within the flock,
They themselves are the end.

When the wise come to die,
They fear not death but life,
For they have died countless times- without a lie,

But life,
Of these themes most recurring,
Exists only once,
Which we are responsible for.

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Not to see life exhausted,
In our final hour,
But exhausted,
Every second of every day.

In every interaction–
between known, knowing, and knower,
Exists a present sitting space,
For us to be in being.

In every moment:
Life is not to be reserved,
But gave
To the child,
Mother, father,
Human,
Being.

Life exists only,
In these moments when we face what is unfaceable,
When we break the walls that impound us,
And expound beyond our being in such a deliberate way.

That life is only a mere description,
Of what we truly experience,
Go on,
Find it in pain, love, beauty, death, friendship, romance.

Life lays,
Only for those,
Who learn to see with open eyes,
Before they close eternally.

And you must chose:
Whether to die before life.
Or live before death.

~

I made my choice.

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