by Shaun Lawton
photo by Vincent Daemon
The industry now turning here has been doing so for awhile.
The mirrored analogy lies in the striations of our smile.
It appears in genuflections of an ordinary grimace.
And disappears in the injections of our blood's burning furnace.
Momentary in a slipstream plunged into the intermittent.
Turned inside out from a synapse into another galaxy.
The trick is understanding that our plasma is our currency.
Space and time itself remain nothing but the flesh and blood of God.
We are just the garment he wears which appears to us very odd.
That's because we have displaced Him according to his greater plan.
Written in the script of paradox spiraling through modern man.
Paranoid paranormal paradisaical to the bone.
Steeped in ecstatic tortures infernal divinity our home.
What is truth but loyalty to an ancient handed down notion.
Faith in the veracity of staying solid firm and steadfast.
Meanwhile knowing all along our own physical bodies won't last.
Our fidelity to being correct will someday backfire.
The friction it engenders may lead to our funeral pyre.
This is why we must remember to forget most of the time.
Forgetting to remember always promotes remaining sane.
The more we memorize the further we clog up our own brain.
In the act of hypnotism we become our own victim.
Staring into this dark prism we transform our innocence.
Our experience observed by a bright myriad audience.
Oblivious our isolation stays just an illusion.
Blind to the rich assembly that exists as an intrusion.
Wearing the stellar mantle a fallen crown upon our head.
Neglecting the difference between the living and the dead.
While one must disappear from here the other emerges there.
It escapes our understanding that this points to everywhere.
Except when we perceive that time and space are one and the same.
We forget our magnetic interaction with the stars.
It remains constant between us no matter where we are.
Unbroken and perpetual connected at the core.
As beyond so beneath we should never mistake our dream.
For something we can't realize existing in between.
By focusing our vision on the here and now instead.
Disembodied for a time more or less within our head.
We can learn to recover our lost sense of sanity.
After tumbling over in this distant proximity.
Awaken to the furthest always being near at hand.
Remember the one whose eyes open when you close your eyes.
Going north in winter traces our passage from this world.
Before our lives began here we were under different skies.
By unclenching our balled fists our blood banners are unfurled.
Everyone alive stands upright their own sentinel.
Illuminating the current hive like a candle.
Conducting electricity with our flesh and blood.
Manifesting on the plains of diminishing lands.
Forming this unique chain of a legacy of hands.
Converging on a point parallel to each other.
Thread the needle through our eye to a long lost mother.
Weave the garment made of skies cloaking our own brother.
Shed the warm hide that was grown such a long time ago.
Dread the pride that you've shown for not knowing it was so.
Ever going on this ride that is continual.
Like snapping shut and picking open a pair of locks.
Without keys we escape the prison of paradox.
Truth has been described as a twi-edged flaming sword.
This depiction remains a lovely metaphor.
It cuts both ways and also burns down villages.
Those who think it absolute remain adamant.
It scalds and razes those untrained to handle it.
To see within it we may have to close our eyes.
To know it better we must learn its new disguise.
Overcome that which we're told has been forbidden.
There's nothing wrong with knowledge as information.
The real danger lies in gaining a distinction.
Thinking we know the difference between right and wrong.
Unravels the harmony of our mutual song.
Remain steadfast in holding off conviction.
Trade our ears with another's in dictation.
Swap our shoes with each other just to listen.
Serve others as you would want to be treated.
Stare into these mirrors however fleeting.
This behavior's in accordance with reason.
Our liberator arrives with the season.
The protector's concealed within our own skin.
All is revealed when we take time to begin.
Thinking we've started just because we're awake.
We all share that in common a big mistake.
The fact is we haven't even begun.
Our transformation under a new sun.
There is no reason for us to pretend.
That every moment we do not transcend.
Although we may be seen as illusion.
Our identities just a confusion.
Only present without past or future.
To help focus keep up the inversion.
The blurring at worst doesn't go that far.
Keep looking til you first see the polestar.
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