Dynamic Reflections

After all this reflection, my conscious perception is clouded with projections yearning for transference to an object external of “me.” The activated archetypes resonant with their specific vibrational frequencies, compelling my spirit to set them free onto something outward defined in terms other than “me.”

The ambiguity and dynamical nature of the terms “other” and “me” result in a continuous game of deliberation, evaluation, contemplation, and modification.

There is never enough time, yet, ironically, the abundance, or at the least, the continuity of time is the basis for the dialectical change ceaseless taking place between these two names.

The task of equilibrium requires continuous energy. Even my conception of appropriate starting points does not remain the same. As I project onto others names, blames, and similar types of psychic games, self-doubt lets itself back into my mind to remind me of what may have changed across the span of time.

All the turbulence produced from everyday change creates a seductive argument urging my analytical brain to review the evidence, yet again. Inevitably, I rewrite my scripts of beliefs when presented with new evidence that reveals the presence of blight in what I currently believed were genuine insights.

Only through hindsight can I access a different vantage point from which to survey my constituent parts’ nature in a new light, left once more to contemplate what’s right.

Determining Sequences

stained-glass-1181864_1280

Could it be so simple?
Break down the principle,
And trace the threads that interweave reality.
Do the same patterns that govern the stars orient the psychic content floating in me?
Have I merely been blind this whole time?
Particulars combined and arranged in an infinitude of creative gestalts.
The need for discernment in deciding when to halt has become a reoccurring thought.
Is it based on what I’ve been taught or lessons from creeds that are pervaded by oughts?
How much time do I allot to cognitive wrestlings, such as this?
I could be opening a bottomless abyss.
Yet, dismissing these inquires could prove to be remiss.
Therefore, I continue to persist seeking a degree of bliss from my inner restlessness.

Life Entangled

Tree cropped

Relax in the fragmentation of the senses.
Breathe in, allowing the recession of your defenses.
Freeing the mind from its proclivity for assessment
And the constant association of judgment.

Permit the authorization for amusement in uncertainty.
Ending the persistent cycle of modernity –
Replacing the world of urgency with that of harmony.

As tension melts into psychic malleability,
Refrain from the urge for mobility.
Refusing to flee from the onset of tranquility,
Erase the unquenchable desire to find utility.

Vying for Control

In times of turmoil, confusion, and uncertainty,
It becomes ever so easy to turn to the mind and hit rewind;
Or, make the choice to intensify the ever-raging battle against time.
Control becomes the mental shovel used to dig deeper the hole of despair.
All the while, masquerading around with a callous belief that we do not care
But this, too, is a mental delusion reinforcing that our will is the final conclusion.

Voicing the Unheard

When will I be taken seriously?

For, no matter what state,

The words that I say

Carry no weight.

How much longer do I have to wait,

Until my cries merit a single taste?

Doubting often is what I’ve become.

Never knowing what it will take showing

To justify my feelings that night.

I wish not to fight,

But all my pleas are met with might;

So, it is as you say.

Let me rest in dismay.

A Thought for a Time

My desire to dream brought to wrought

To spring free from the weeds of thought –

Yet, my presence is bound to thinking.

Therefore, I keep on policing:

Day and night,

In search of fright,

Anticipating a fight,

As if it became more manageable when presented to my sight.

The Choice of Becoming

Self-awareness is the root of unpreparedness.
Filling with bliss while ignoring its ignorance.

Prior aggression transform into present regressions.
All coinciding with expressions of life lessons.

Sighs in time, double as words spoken between lines.
Dictated by the tongue,
syllables attempt to confine.

Through societal transgressions,
we perceive our message:
To stay,
or to hope,
or to metamorphose into ghosts.

Life awaits those, who choose to seek the most.

 

For more poems from my book ‘A Two Sided Truth’ click the link for a free Kindle copy:

A Two Sided Truth: An Anthology of A Human Experience