Friday, August 30, 2013

THE OLDER ONES

Our own brains are canned in bone.
We rarely think of this when left alone.
With three times as many appendages as an octopus.
Memories dim as dreams take over the mind. 
From what depths we dared our hold on history. 

We crossed the gap arriving and gasping for air from the shore.
At the cellular level aware of our capacity to adapt. 
There is no justification for polluting an entire planet. 
The reason for this is because neither does justice exist. 
Only a sort of static balance amid the roiling turmoil. 

An  entire world exists outside our thought!
We have words that represent the aspects of that world. 
Mountain, stone, water, sinew, feather, lightning, thunder, dark.
Keep these words true to your heart and align yourself with earth.
Disregard abstractions such as good, evil, truth, justice, etc. 

They work to cloud the mind and further obfuscate our lives.
Lives we are dreaming up on the spot so get with it and wake up. 
The ancient lords who swam up from the greatest depths. 
We are surrounded by them today just take a look around. 
Kings of our dominion are wearing our own clothes dressed to kill.  

Groomed with immaculate grace pupils full blown in our face. 
Everything Is Under Control someone possessed of sardonic wit once wrote.
Except for the grip we may have on our own lives we suppose. 
One thing matters in the dark protected by calcified helmets. 
Extruded upright by gravity and guided by the wind.