Jonathan ROBIN (22 September / London)
Inspiration's spent cartridge, having shot its insight bolt from out of the blue out of sight, hangs, bridge ridge ego echo kidding between indifferent and indignant, apparently almost borderline indigent in suspended animation, arrested as if Time and Space had conspired to offset kinetic energy oversight aspiring to fire the Ages, to dissolve need for conceptual anchors and thereby solve descriptions of descriptions of inside/outside interdependant fractal interface tracings pacing the space outline of straight line meta-mode mind-sets while awaiting the meeting mutating mate to mating with itself.
Pivot and pillow wo[l]rd challenge tenets of Ti[m]e and P[l]ace, ful[l]crum[b]s of the soul's immortality, seeking to block the spirit's fleeting winking inking thinking linking greeting shrinking within itself.
A state me[a]ntal line, desperate to [t]race light, as if its existence depended upon its s[p]eed, soars, curving, arching through the marching universe attempting to reach, underscore, and underline itself. Light quark sparks affect all levels of cosmic consciousness until the circle reforms an image impression expression of universal harmony.
Emotions long to [l]ink the pages of the Present, intertwining Past and Future, and, in letters large as life, decipher themselves, decode the genius or gene I us emoticons so near, and yet so far. The door of insight and enlightenment is ever ajar, although it often seems too narrow to those who ephemerally flicker through their three score years and ten.
Up and over, to where, hitting, the lead layers of primary consciousness, 'wait' changed state as weight dissolved, and led away from the temptation of falling back on the memory's backwash flashback switchbacking and side tracking up and down upon a semi colon black background, back to and from basics, a-muse-sing contradiction in terms, as the bridge between Whence and Wither, Cause and Effect suddenly spanned the echo relay race of Eternity's comings and goings, ebbings and flowings, knowing and unknowing as the cycle geared up and peered/appeared over hair-splitting layers of primary unconsciousness.
The sleeper seeks to wake, awakening unlooked for in this temporal continuum. Fake break takes time out for its own sake without making flaking rhyme. The chronological water shed the logical and fed from Chronos' legendary meal, taking from the Gods from which he himself once partook while spinning topsy-turvy among the blue and green rings around Saturn's void.
Kernel, unrooted from the inner recesses of the mind, that dark fertile area where creativity restlessly and relentlessly anticipates release, bursts into nut gut activity. Nevertheless, innovation is considered cancerous by those who their inner selves refute, or fear to know.
The universal soul awaits inspiration to send sap soaring, outpouring from core ring at all levels. Tendrils tentatively touch, tenderly tease to deracinate, sensate and sate the tortured synapses of the spirit. Explosion of consciousness calls all, especially itself, into question.
Warp and weft, bereft of references, dance a double helix under the sum of understanding, st[r]anding both apart from and a part of the hole that leads the whole into and out from itself.
Truth's essential essence reflects prismatically and chromatically upon all aspects of awareness, the soul works on the Will to redefine the Way as harmony and chaos complete each other as cosmic and karmic interplay evolve revolving around each other.
The sleeper wakes, works on the Will, finds, refines, redefines and realigns the Way, which, in its turn, underlines individual inability to assign its paradoxical convergent_seas to seize the day, given that among the English anagrams for CARPE DIEM include PRICE MADE, PRIME ACED, EPIC DREAM, ACME PRIDE, to DIME CAPER? MAD RECIPE, I MAP CREED, AM PIERCED, REMAP DICE!
Borderline inspiration bridges ego echo… nowhere, everywhere, wear the same surround.
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