Author: Pisceanesque

"It's not from within that I emerge; it's by emerging, that I am truly within." www.pisceanesque.com

THOUGHT #75

Cleaning up one’s strategic mess often clutters one’s mind with further possibility.

THOUGHT #70

Cloaked emotions scream a visible silence.

THOUGHT #64

Losing one’s way is incredibly empowering upon reflection.

THOUGHT #63

Chipping away at rock until it develops beauty will take no time at all, if one will only start.

THOUGHT #61

No-one stands alone when alone; nothing connects us all.

THOUGHT #58

Each other side is another one always yearns for.

THOUGHT #56

One’s size is meaningless, for the universe resides within.

THOUGHT #54

It’s not from within that one emerges: it’s by emerging that one is truly within.

THOUGHT #53

One’s flaws provide a solid reality for grounding.

THOUGHT #50

False accusation is one’s public mirror for internal conflict.

THOUGHT #49

One is unaware of seeking self when blinded in the search for love.

THOUGHT #48

Honesty is seeing all truths staring back at oneself, looking out – eye to eye – from within.

THOUGHT #47

A single thought produces manuscripts of possibility in the authorship of one’s voluminous soul.

THOUGHT #46

Beauty, being everywhere, leaves one blind to detail.

THOUGHT #45

Tears are a visual drowning from stimulus unwelcome amongst the silent emotions of the mind.

THOUGHT #43

Caution is a small bump on a straight road, but a winding track uphill to mimic.

THOUGHT #42

When one expects to see everything, one sees only what one expects to see.

THOUGHT #39

All sight contains the deliberate glitch of imperfection from which one derives a perfectly unique experience.

THOUGHT #38

Labeling them miracles proves that one’s faith and vision are both absent.

THOUGHT #29

Time, full to empty with nothing, is something of which there is never enough.

THOUGHT #24

The unjust dessert of temptation creates an edible scenario that one must swallow whole at once to contain the many pieces.

THOUGHT #20

Instead of studying death to appreciate life, one should be studying life to appreciate the life beyond it.

THOUGHT #13

The weight of money is unbelievably light compared to the weight of the burden it was designed to carry.

THOUGHT #11

Often, liability is forgotten until it’s too late to remember.

THOUGHT #7

Befriending another for gain is quite the loss.

THOUGHT #5

Erring is judged by a standard of perfection that has never existed.

BROTHEL SHORE

Falling fast down hovelled stairs,
digesting wealth to ransom cares,
grotesque men who soil and harrow
suspend my dreams from thinning rope.

As discharge weeps from places raw
and blisters burn a molten core,
another phallus, soiled and poisoned
wants for smack and cunny’d whores.

I bleed from wounds so deep within
of pain so stark and crude and sore
that pins me ‘neath the brine of sin
like drowning prey in spunk and piss.

I fail to dim the moving shadows:
those twisting jerks of spewed release –
but coming soon will silent growls
of dripping fat and blistered guilts.

Voiced within me, vague and distant,
something cries, yet tears withdraw.
Copious unheard pleas are buried:
here lay I, unknown, destroyed.

To burrow past unhuman men
(to further seal a keyless lock)
would ‘splay me in the public eye,
exampled, maimed, defeated: lost.

Phlegm and fur may line my mouth;
engorged, my lips, a whore for more.
But somewhere deep inside myself
I’ve walked away from Brothel Shore.

EVEN BEYOND DEATH

Concurrent sessions of geometric,
(explicitly whimsical)
liquified squares
arose from patterned nether regions
of ‘somewhere else out there’
in smothering particles of
truest radiant flares.

And sat I upon the visible dreamscape space
that existed no-where
but outside of my illusory plan,
and cherished, I, the pictorial preempted
in the moment of my after-life birthing
of which polite demand
again beseeched me ride.

Yet not a one of the graphical displays
(filtered fresh from infinite dimensions)
approached me like a complete whole
– neither a partial whole –
but as a synchronistic sphere
of clouded systemic rumours
made to halt to keen attention
but one light-bodied and mirrored virtual soul
such as the sporadically alter-egoed I.

Flowing from one source to the next,
beyond the simple measure of a single point
a blast of knowing flagged a recognition spark
that folded time and space
betwixt one universal structure
unto the
(not unlike symbiotic)
self instructioned mind –
and so to Mind Exist described another route
for Love to spread It’s fastest cycle;
birthing cells and growing rife,
to yield a fresh creation.

And hereupon I watch/ed with hunger
that which transpired time before,
providing what is harnessed now,
with will to still repeat again,
and so again to knot forever
into chains of new momentum;
weaving,
waving,
slipping through and marking too,
another path to God.

BIPOLAR

Standing here
I stood my ground
floating
closer
than the distance

Further
than ‘ahead’ I saw
me
fighting for resistance

Fast
unmoving
– not alone –
with only me
I stayed

Fumbling
– screaming loud –
to hear it:

. . . silence . . .

yet I disobeyed

Cocooned in air and
muffled
by these fitful gulps
I dared not breathe I
marked out time
in vacant space
I owned – yet
not yet: not for me

Thinking hard
I cleared my mind
– illusioned, lost –
yet
memories traced

Would I
(should not) leave
I’d try

The where?
Just ‘some’
to
ANY place

ABSTRUSITY

(meaning: wisdom that is incomprehensible to one of ordinary understanding or knowledge)

Alone, let me dissolve into the stale persistence of repeated memory, where,
to sink, into that moment, long at last, I will;
to time that stained my white and holy life like thick excreted waste,
as lost among the black apostles, self detest infection festered.
My soul did roast my psyche.

Let me watch through wiser eyes as I was suckled dry by rogues and devilled men who
fed me lies and praised degraded hopes in tight knit bondage ropes and
prayed their symbiotic futures whole;
their shackled lives, encased by squalid dwellings, raped to empty, burnt to coals. Then,

let me fear again the death I cheated, let me shy away again from light and love,
as once I did,
and let the drugs inspire hunger, let my ribs admonish friendships;
show me seated on the sharpened iron throne that clawed its way into my life.

Let me remember courage, this, when biting clean the straps
that bent my arms behind my back,
that tied my feet without allowing slack, that stole my mind, that seared my life,
that scarred my flesh and sent me running, set me free at last
from final unforgiving seas that tempted me with futile guarantee
to nurture, care and carry me.

Let me, lastly, naked, stand in stark surrender, found by precious realisation.
Finally human once again! Majestic once again! While
chains of brutal, rusty, rotted steel detach,
and I begin to heal; to patch at last, my puzzled life that, muzzled,
once,
I hanged among
such sordid ruin.
Now a sequined future wheel rotates as I transition
from a past so art surreal,
so damn unreal,
and yet, a history, sad, but passed, that’s mine, alone to boldly feel.