You are not the pen; you are the ink.
You are not your thoughts; you do not think.
The mind might be perpetual violence,
But you are the tranquil silence.

You are the watcher, you are not the mind.
You are the stillness; you await behind.
The possessing entity has you mistaken,
But become aware and you’ll awaken.

Imagine falling from the highest peak.
Zero spiral, a free fall that triggers vertigo.
Limbs elevating to the sky,
as if the torso was of a separate part of an apparatus.
Body aiming straight towards the ground like an anchor sinking in the sea.
Wind passes through your hair,
and rustles violently against your ears.
Can you imagine?
Gravitational pull,
it drags you down.
An indescribable sensation;
a sensation that leaves you further and further from reality,
As all becomes a blur.
A feeling of sheer emptiness;
for as brief as a second,
Every certainty becomes a questionable factor.
For even just an instant,
time extends; from a moment into an eternity.
And 'Temporary' becomes a word without definition.
It resonates in the mind of those who fear the fall;
Those who live with a brain numbing fear of the uncontrollable.
Eventually this miniature infinity will come to a halt, 
As a strange entity ultimately breaks the fatal fall.
Once again, going back to the embrace of a great cocoon of protection.
And although that brief moment was your greatest fear,
it also became your greatest conquest.
With each glance back at the grotesque heights,
a smile would surface.
Because secretly, you know you loved it.

he sings about a family photograph
in a language i understand no better
than a mathematical equation
and i grasp the strength and weakness in his voice
and the vibrations they send through my wooden table and all its contents
my eyelids flutter open and shut like a dying moth,
trying to be in sync with the music but unable to
i stretch and fold my legs as i hit the replay button,
crack some knuckles and glance around in double vision
as i'm being slowly oxidized to death
i have pictures of a smiling childhood idol
pasted on the wardrobes,
a  series of little pale yellow lights
taped apologetically to the textured, pastel blue wall.
i have writings on my wall in colours i cant find within myself,
and i suddenly pray this poem won't disappear
with the glitches of technology.
i pray to nobody, no god, no spirit.
being the atheist i am, i feel strange closing my eyes,
“please let it be okay” echoing in my head every time.
but these are not my thoughts.
these are not your thoughts.
they simply are.
he continues belting out notes
and i breathe without rhythm.
my lungs are tone deaf.
i get goosebumps on my hairless limbs for a second.
applause resounds, it's a live recording of the song.
short pause, next.
piano picks up pace
and the mellow voice of a different man
of the same tongue fills the room.
a little more lively.
i realize it's not the words you need
to understand what he means.

I decided to breathe today,
To fill my lungs with that invisible, life-giving substance
That I've never really known before.

But now I do, I know it well,
For it has caused my lungs to swell,
And, well,
It got me feeling pretty compelled
To write this down so I could tell
Of the swell of my lungs
That I just felt.

And what's fascinating is that I wasn't consuming air,
I was breathing in life for the very first time.
Inhale truth, exhale death.

Awake. Awake. Awake.

Oh, I want to be more than a pile of bones and air,
Floating away into the atmosphere.

I need to be more than a heart and a face,
Let boundless life take their place.

Let my head be filled up to the brim
With that which my lungs have let in --
Let my path of life truly begin.

Alive. Alive. Alive.

No more drifting up into the sky.

And now the truth will weigh me down,
Keep my soul beneath the clouds.

**** bliss,
I'd rather be aware and alive
Than ignorant and dormant.
We were put here for more.

I want to be more than this.

Awake. Awake. Awake.
Alive. Alive. Alive.
Awake. Awake. Awake.
**Alive for all my life.

transcendence does not mean surpassing, moving above
transcendence is living through opposite ends of the spectrum simultaneously, or even being it

without experience, here, still there is
without eyes to gaze upon the mystery of coherent light
touchable without a hand
i am born again
again and again and again
until i transcend
into an unlookable expanse
within and without of myself

how do i know?

How am I aware?
When did I become aware?
What is aware?

Does a lion know they are a lion?
What do they call themselves?
Does the Zebra know it is only a Zebra?
Does it know it's cause of death is a Lion round the neck?

As it bleeds does it remember it's family?
Does the Lion remember its first ****?
Do the buzzards have an opinion on the situation?
As they argue over dinner do they also debate?
Yes.  

The birds squak " if humans are aware,  why aren't they aware of us?"
The giraffes chime in " why do they pretend our home is a wasteland?"
The monkeys holler "humans build concrete caves to hide from awareness"
The hyenas laugh " what stupid animals!"
The leopard whispers "aren't we all?"

All of it started with the  smile of a flower,
which was an  answer to my wink to her,
then a wind brought her scented thought, to me
to mull over, smile again was the answer, I gave.

Thus began a chain, animals, birds and words,
soon became the links creating lilting tunes,
stars at night chimed in, their magical words
crafted by many hues of pulsating light, delighting us.

Even pain had a heart rending rhyme, a dying star
in the candor of that moment told us truths concealed,
a telescope distant would take her moment of  glory
for records,she fell, showering in to cosmic chasm, magnificently.
I whispered this to her ear, she was willing to join the chorus,

"Aren't we like the elements of nature, braided together,
just reach the core, through many ways possible,
make yourself  this clear for ever; we together make one,
it'd naturally dawn,  if you've nothing to jettison,
those unwanted baggage  stuffed, does nothing for one,
when one gathers this truth  much delight dawns,
love travels at the speed of light, you are just a beam."