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Array ( [sid] => 160425 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => manifesto. . . constancy. . . [time] => 2010-06-07 21:38:44 [hometext] => [bodytext] => do you ever wonder why humans do things that are not real?
why do they put up fronts. . . juggle tiny pieces of truth,
mix in some blah blah & pseudo-info. . . semi-conductors?
why coagulate? why be vague? why, indifferent?
why spill falsehood?
why shade reality meaningless? falsify ones' self
then, pretty much turn around & in one stupor fell stroke
expose the unreal about it all. in this case, self negation = self exposure.
does this mean that one becomes meaningless, in, or to some higher context?
as these scarring behaviors & powers are enlisted,
do they remain lifeless or do they take form?
do they become?
do they linger?
do they prey? what is the nature of the beast?
it is distinguishable. it is the negating power of the universe.
it is the undoing. . .
& I have watched & heard & witnessed it's unraveling effects, many times,
sometimes, incoherently. . . but now I know & I seek to know. . . my enemy.
I seek to attract what I ought 'befriend.
there is power & safety in distinguishing. . .
I wonder. . . yes & I marvel at this :)
within considering, I want to recoginize truth, to feel truth for myself.
to know my self as a going out of truth, as a coming in of truth, a sublime thread of all that is real.
I want to ally with the force that reveals splendor & hides nothing from it's gracious light.
I want that subtle immersion that relies only on trust. . .
the entering in, that does not eat itself alive
regurgitate its' blandness,
peel back it's manifest layers, hoping to find. . . only to find. . . emptiness,
emptiness. . . so stale a veil. . .
it hurts. . . when sifted through any of the forms that deceit takes on,
truth becomes a bitter calx,
a turning away.
for one, who only desires what's real,
the turning away is a feeling akin to loss.
(almost always, I do feel it. . . here, I mean a lack of honesty, if it's present,
like unstrummed vibes of intuition, omission in the air
or a just not right feeling. . . settling every where.)
as I achieve the person that I long to be
I want to bless our paths. . .
the path of ones who create void,
who craft nothingness from the essense of themselves or others,
who unknowingly blind themselves,
binding the very spirit. . . binding. . . because the first lie is always one to self.
I've found myself, unusually, wishing or choosing to turn away.
who am I, therefore, to interfer, to even name the deed?
hopefully by now, I've learned how to engage.
to slow or impede this most intimate & personal, but dangerous process,
is not my choosing.
to bind & cling. . . to free & release. . . the choice is always our very own.
we may learn together. . . but choice is an extremely private & personal priviledge.
each soul journeys countless, thousands of fears,
arrives at & delivers a multitude of the most loving encounters,
there'll be enough limbo in life, to fill a moon,
every shade of everything will cross your threshhold, bare.
there is no where that essense is not.
even in emptiness, the essense of emptiness is there.
where nothingness dwells, there abides it's essense, as well.
it's self defeating, but people choose the false & unreal, the undoing
over truth & the sublime prism, that it offers, almost constantly.
this vortex of misconception. . . doesn't always indicate or encompass my spirit,
yet, I've been sucked into the lie. . . the subtle touch of it upon my skin,
it triggers. . .
the blush of questioning in my mind,
it stains. . .
even the word lie, proposes a passiveness that does not ( & never will ) accompany the act.
the act itself, is a fury, leaching.
a parasite bent on undoing. . . a scale that peels to bleed but sadly seeds. . .
Beauty comes. . . solely, by not being deceived
it stays lovingly, by not practicing to deceive.
these are powerful choices. . . divine opportunities. . .
these are lovely blessings & so, given gently.
I say gently, because there's always pain & the solitude of withdrawal
in truly knowing. . .whether deceiver or deceived, or innocently in between, you are bound. . .
& so there is pain in truly knowing.
but in knowing & choosing wisely, you become truly boundless. . .
you become the essense of your true self. . .
that is to say that now. . . nothing false can bind you. . .
& possibly instead, you can bind whats' false.
the spirit of truth is a fragile being.
it's fragile strength lies in the absolute. it always is. it always was. it can only be what it is.
nothing more. nothing less. nothing can manifest it & no thing destroy it & so. . . it is eternal.
you can bend, twist, cut up, reconfigure, modify, combine, scramble, magnify, calculate, postulate or circumcise but you will never, ever impede it. . .
you will never undo it. . .
you will recognize it's truest form. . . & deny the false archetypes.
it will always prevail.
it's essense glows even within the cruel center of fear, mistake & misunderstanding.
yes, even in the base, the callous, the dire, the dread. . . it's shadow will heal, it's remnant will sustain. . .
all broken gifts are mis-shapened tools. . .
offering such machinations as pride, envy, lust, greed & any other prodigy
that deludes trust & seeks to encourage the worship of False Ness.
I am only a humble observer & surely I am capable of this self-inflicted blindness, as well.
& so I beseech, Bless & Guard me 'nigh & day. . .
for I witness, in my entirety, that what I set before is whole, what I share is pure & what I want is actual existence.
there is no other salve. . .
& so I share a solemn, most cherishable belief. . .
blessed be. . . elle



~~~~~~~~~~~~


Truth is relentless.
It keeps presenting itself.
It will always do so.
It waits, silently, as lies flail about.
It exemplifies & radiates peace.
It longingly awaits our humble desire.
It is the blessed silence before dawn & at the end of time.
It resides in the wholeness & manifestation of God.
It comes to be known. . .
for it's will. . . is to be.


~~~~~~~~~~~







[comments] => 2 [counter] => 148 [topic] => 62 [informant] => elle [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 10 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => spiritual )
manifesto. . . constancy. . .

Contributed by elle on Monday, 7th June 2010 @ 09:38:44 PM in AEST
Topic: spiritual



do you ever wonder why humans do things that are not real?
why do they put up fronts. . . juggle tiny pieces of truth,
mix in some blah blah & pseudo-info. . . semi-conductors?
why coagulate? why be vague? why, indifferent?
why spill falsehood?
why shade reality meaningless? falsify ones' self
then, pretty much turn around & in one stupor fell stroke
expose the unreal about it all. in this case, self negation = self exposure.
does this mean that one becomes meaningless, in, or to some higher context?
as these scarring behaviors & powers are enlisted,
do they remain lifeless or do they take form?
do they become?
do they linger?
do they prey? what is the nature of the beast?
it is distinguishable. it is the negating power of the universe.
it is the undoing. . .
& I have watched & heard & witnessed it's unraveling effects, many times,
sometimes, incoherently. . . but now I know & I seek to know. . . my enemy.
I seek to attract what I ought 'befriend.
there is power & safety in distinguishing. . .
I wonder. . . yes & I marvel at this :)
within considering, I want to recoginize truth, to feel truth for myself.
to know my self as a going out of truth, as a coming in of truth, a sublime thread of all that is real.
I want to ally with the force that reveals splendor & hides nothing from it's gracious light.
I want that subtle immersion that relies only on trust. . .
the entering in, that does not eat itself alive
regurgitate its' blandness,
peel back it's manifest layers, hoping to find. . . only to find. . . emptiness,
emptiness. . . so stale a veil. . .
it hurts. . . when sifted through any of the forms that deceit takes on,
truth becomes a bitter calx,
a turning away.
for one, who only desires what's real,
the turning away is a feeling akin to loss.
(almost always, I do feel it. . . here, I mean a lack of honesty, if it's present,
like unstrummed vibes of intuition, omission in the air
or a just not right feeling. . . settling every where.)
as I achieve the person that I long to be
I want to bless our paths. . .
the path of ones who create void,
who craft nothingness from the essense of themselves or others,
who unknowingly blind themselves,
binding the very spirit. . . binding. . . because the first lie is always one to self.
I've found myself, unusually, wishing or choosing to turn away.
who am I, therefore, to interfer, to even name the deed?
hopefully by now, I've learned how to engage.
to slow or impede this most intimate & personal, but dangerous process,
is not my choosing.
to bind & cling. . . to free & release. . . the choice is always our very own.
we may learn together. . . but choice is an extremely private & personal priviledge.
each soul journeys countless, thousands of fears,
arrives at & delivers a multitude of the most loving encounters,
there'll be enough limbo in life, to fill a moon,
every shade of everything will cross your threshhold, bare.
there is no where that essense is not.
even in emptiness, the essense of emptiness is there.
where nothingness dwells, there abides it's essense, as well.
it's self defeating, but people choose the false & unreal, the undoing
over truth & the sublime prism, that it offers, almost constantly.
this vortex of misconception. . . doesn't always indicate or encompass my spirit,
yet, I've been sucked into the lie. . . the subtle touch of it upon my skin,
it triggers. . .
the blush of questioning in my mind,
it stains. . .
even the word lie, proposes a passiveness that does not ( & never will ) accompany the act.
the act itself, is a fury, leaching.
a parasite bent on undoing. . . a scale that peels to bleed but sadly seeds. . .
Beauty comes. . . solely, by not being deceived
it stays lovingly, by not practicing to deceive.
these are powerful choices. . . divine opportunities. . .
these are lovely blessings & so, given gently.
I say gently, because there's always pain & the solitude of withdrawal
in truly knowing. . .whether deceiver or deceived, or innocently in between, you are bound. . .
& so there is pain in truly knowing.
but in knowing & choosing wisely, you become truly boundless. . .
you become the essense of your true self. . .
that is to say that now. . . nothing false can bind you. . .
& possibly instead, you can bind whats' false.
the spirit of truth is a fragile being.
it's fragile strength lies in the absolute. it always is. it always was. it can only be what it is.
nothing more. nothing less. nothing can manifest it & no thing destroy it & so. . . it is eternal.
you can bend, twist, cut up, reconfigure, modify, combine, scramble, magnify, calculate, postulate or circumcise but you will never, ever impede it. . .
you will never undo it. . .
you will recognize it's truest form. . . & deny the false archetypes.
it will always prevail.
it's essense glows even within the cruel center of fear, mistake & misunderstanding.
yes, even in the base, the callous, the dire, the dread. . . it's shadow will heal, it's remnant will sustain. . .
all broken gifts are mis-shapened tools. . .
offering such machinations as pride, envy, lust, greed & any other prodigy
that deludes trust & seeks to encourage the worship of False Ness.
I am only a humble observer & surely I am capable of this self-inflicted blindness, as well.
& so I beseech, Bless & Guard me 'nigh & day. . .
for I witness, in my entirety, that what I set before is whole, what I share is pure & what I want is actual existence.
there is no other salve. . .
& so I share a solemn, most cherishable belief. . .
blessed be. . . elle



~~~~~~~~~~~~


Truth is relentless.
It keeps presenting itself.
It will always do so.
It waits, silently, as lies flail about.
It exemplifies & radiates peace.
It longingly awaits our humble desire.
It is the blessed silence before dawn & at the end of time.
It resides in the wholeness & manifestation of God.
It comes to be known. . .
for it's will. . . is to be.


~~~~~~~~~~~











Copyright © elle ... [ 2010-06-07 21:38:44]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: manifesto. . . constancy. . . (User Rating: 1 )
by cashfan1 on Tuesday, 8th June 2010 @ 12:58:39 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
wow! this is really a very deep piece of work.
I will come back and read it again and doubtless find another meaning, good thought provoking stuff, I like it alot, thanks for sharing.


Re: manifesto. . . constancy. . . (User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on Thursday, 10th June 2010 @ 01:41:36 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

Phew...and then she breathes!

The dude on Lie To Me says it's impossible to tell the truth. I dunno...it's possible, just sometimes difficult. Plus, as the ol' saying goes "the truth hurts". So to avoid the hurt, we lie? Again, me the not knowing but you? Sounds like an epiphany to me.

The always amazed and impressed by elle,

Tim




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