kendera it was an good thing to become so selfish.
selfish enough to become so jealous, of him,
and realize it was not love.
chiidi came from outer space 010326
amy it fractures again and again,
until i remember its separation, and its simple singularity.
A Viking In Peru It bounces like a frog with an alkaseltzer in its stomac.

It speaks of flourescent subaquatic architecture.

It peelsback the tape on the pianist's mind.

It frames dice and rolls pictures.

It gives nonsequiturs undenyable context.

It pilots a sleigh through the ever deepening night.

It writes strangers' names in the dust on their enemy's refrigerator.

It moves the bones of various reptiles.

It gathers newspaper clippings like a knife through warm butter.

It bakes sausages below the Antarctic circle.

It illuminates objects that were never seen.

It spells mathematical equations in imaginary alphabets.

It translates household appliances into binary code.

It causes people to question their belief in belief.

It makes nine degree angles roll down gentley sloping hills.

It inspires ungulates to learn sleight of hand.

It unlocks doors no carpenter built.

It brings the inanimate into sporadic animation.

It makes you want to revisit the shadow puppet principle.

It invites fluting into an invertabrate's mind.

It waltzes slowly down the isle.

It corrects misspelled grocery lists.

It stealthily adds sand to the hour glass.
pilgrim To write down an acurate description is to lose the essence of this thing. Burying the Truth of it under a heap of concepts that actually stand between You and "It". The Reality is that It is unknowable. Totally outside our understanding. By It's very nature It is beyond the scope of the Physical Mind.
It is That which came before and will remain after. Absolute Awareness, Complete,Alone. All-Knowing existance in a place where Nothing is made Manifest. No Time. No Space. Stillness in Motion.
All analogies Stand in the way of true Realization. The Spirit moving on the Face of the Deep, The sound of One Hand Clapping. All that Is, Is "It". Good and Bad, Light and Darkness The Created and Uncreated. All This It Is. It's Essence Forms our Thoughts and Feelings. Gazes out upon Itself Through our Eyes. Seeking an Understanding of Itself through All Experience. In Lucid Dreams and Deep Sleep It Communes with It's Innermost Nature, That which has Never left the Unmanifested Timelessness, Eternal Light Shining in the Void, Absolute Brilliance with nothing to Illuminate. Behold The Miracle, From Nothing , Everything!
Doubt Its Existance If You will, For the Doubt You feel is the Uncertainty of the Divine, and All is as it Should be.
zedel it feels like
This Is It

but i know most it's feel like that
what's it to you?
who go