Many Gods But One

 

 

 

            I want to write an epic,

An epic of proportions where

Each and every opposite, pulls

Gravitation past its orbit, to spiral

Out of minds control,

            A countenance

Of disapproving states

Like sea-saws movement bouncing

Bigger – up and down,

A balancing of equals like the art of

Keeping sanity insane –

            Like brave upon the coward

Who’ll take a snipers aim

Take upon the pain of bullet

For futures of no fight.

            Like submariner skipping

Leave beneath the waves

For flight of aeroplane,

I’m teasing my own conscience

To consider every notion

Dash away each form -

For recitals of my own.

 

 

            I want to write an epic

Of such grandiosity the humble

And the blind will see,

And the deaf will hear

And lives considered senseless

Will soon begin again to feel,

Like positive to negative,

Like negative to positive

The neggie pos

And possie neg –

This stemming of alternatives

Sends intellects the robbing of,

Unwittingly for thinking of

Clocks that twice speak naming of

The same hour in each day –

AM PM and considering all the

People space is hemming in

Where does the discord harmony

Displays within notation

Find its stave to sing?

 

 

            Where does this fractal

Universe anchor down momentum

In its preach, its preach for

Life, Death, Go – Stop!

I’m reaching a conclusion

In absurdity of words,

For life does grow eternally –

Eternity its choice,

                        But does death,

                        Does death

I ask as worlds turn anti clockwise

On their axis,

And here upon our globe of Samaritans

Thieves question all who claim a

Sense of self,

And now I see each paradox

Born rich imprisoned in its fallacy,

And uttering contradictions

I proclaim that death is life,

Life is death

And this be a point upon epiphany

For only out of time and time again

Death is Life,

For out of death comes life,

And Life is Death,

For out of life comes death,

And I realize we only see the fractal

Whilst invading forms of life,

But where upon the fractal is our death?

 

 

            The answer’s bearing down

While going up is movement within

Questions as I wear the knowledge

Of a frown,

                        And here upon my being

I’m locating in the Galaxy

The Stars that keep us living,

Finding fractals in everything

I’m thinking

Finding fractals in the death

We take for granted,

While furrowing our seed

                        And it’s like a knife

Through butter as each and

Every opposite makes declarations

In favouring its rules;-

            None of this exists

None of this would permeate

Unless inconsequence battles

Lovingly and hatefully the all of

Nature’s truth,

None of this at all in

Any way makes sense,

Unless you realize and understand

The meaning of subjective,

The objective and rational of thought,

None of this would within our lives

From past, present, and future forms –

None of this would plea!

 

 

There’s tension in relaxing as

The light within the catacomb’s

Of doubt sparks mercy on my thoughts,

For none of this would be,

Everything would cease,

If secrets of the utmost were

Revealed to primitive enquiry,

For there is a state in which the

Magnitude of life is best preserved,

For ‘we,’ are more than just a carbon,

We are more than balancing on

Scales,

            For at the centre of each soul

At the centre of all our very core,

At the end of each and every thing

And deed, and life-form,

            Nothing could exist,

Without Universal Spirit cutting

Through the dangers of an

Un-eventful void.  

 

 

 

Michael J Waite 19^thJanuary 2010.