I see thru you
Or rather I can’t see you
Each reflection goes deeper into my soul
I know myself more when you’re my mirror
I see thru you
Or rather I can’t see you
Each reflection goes deeper into my soul
I know myself more when you’re my mirror
Who’s greater, the Sun or I?
In terms of force, the winner is known
But ask the Sun to disobey a law, it cannot
Ask the Sun to say no, it cannot
The Sun follows laws and for it it is great
I can choose not, and for that I am greater
The Sun can’t overcome retaliations that come from breaking laws
I can
The Sun can’t move without authority
I can
The Sun needs to burn
I can alternate
The Sun needs to shine
I can shade
The Sun can’t create shadows at noon
I can shine at night
The Sun needs to be composed
I can deconstruct
The Sun needs to age
I am forever
For I am free
It is not logic that references itself, it is us, its children
Logic made us reference it, or reverence it
Why can’t we choose nonsense? Why not reject the word and live wordless?
In solitude, and quiet
Anywhere two souls gather, logic will present itself
A necessary awareness stemming from my own contingent awareness
Autonomy being able to move contingency like we move choose to move our eyes across a page or choose to look away
We read on, willingly, the other’s soul
A necessary awareness of an abyss contained in an Other
Two contingencies existing in nonsense willingly choose logic to deduce necessity
Did logic make us narcissistic by making itself necessary?
Is logic selfless?
Does logic lack identity?
Does logic lack transitions?
Is logic eternal?
Listen not to me, listen to the Logos.
Amen
Babel Towered
Taking wide steps, walking through numerous cultures in one stride
From afar, there were no differences
Patterns and trends that reflected only one race
No ethnicity, religion
No individualized destinations made unique from old myths
All one chaos forming a passage
Each step glided over millions of people
Who, through all difference, came together to make one road
The steps left prints, Babel towering over
All looked up, a repeated tale since Plato’s cave
The road wanted to walk, too
The unending sky used as a reference point for infinity
Knowing that, while the ground below was infinite,
The ground could not be seen without drawing memory
Memories full of wrinkles and politics, shame and pride
Memories full of duties and expectations
The sky, kept clean of bloodshed,
Stood for everything we ever were, but had forgotten
At the beginning there was consummated love
A gargle of fluids and intention
From the order, came distinction
From the mayhem, formed a body
The light came forth and shone
Stumbling and crawling
Some weak dough on stilts
From experience, a soft body
Impressionable but full of memory
A stage of development until it met its cousins
In the land of the hard bodies
The hard bodies that can’t forget
All the impressions
Experience made
Thoughts that belong to all
Fenced by an ego that thinks it knows better
Thought becomes property and all are stolen from
We all defend the thieves and give them crowns
We lampoon the fools for not knowing
Knowing only belongs to a few
Meditate and find peace but not through my property
From a dark cavern, shrouded questions appear
Tormenting every soul in its wake
Every soul offers a response but not all responses bring reward
Riches accosting the god of greed as a ghost wearing a sheet