Quotes like Fatherhood is pretending the present...

Fatherhood is pretending the present you love most is soap-on-a-rope.

quote by Bill Cosby
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Synergy of Love

'Were you honed from poetry? '
I asked your saddened smile.
For it seems to tell a longing tale -
One of words in oratory
That speaks in languid metaphors
From lips of mind in deep despair
And solitude from inner wars
That over time has rendered life so frail.

'Were you carved from doleful prose? '
I sought to ask your gaze,
For a pain lies deep within your eyes -
One of barren territory
Where no fair heart could ever drift
And hope to venture back content
With grateful memories in a gift -
A land of your affectional demise.

'Do I hear a mournful hum? '
I wondered of your cry,
For it sings a song of deep lament -
One of quiet soliloquy
Recited on deserted strands
To waves that have no sense of song
And only wish to fight the sands -
A chant that cites emotional descent.

Do you know your face portrays
The colours of your soul?
It tells me at a single glance
Of how you burned your furnace whole
To stay the fire in our romance.

And see the prismic hues they bore!
I cherished all I ever saw:
Mauve of mystic; browns of rustic;
Reddened tones to match your blush;
Marine of passion, spending out your being,
Leaving you for ashen embers, fleeing
The dying light in hush of night.
And how you lay there empty.

So let me help re-grow the flowers
Once erect in fiery showers!
For now I've seen what love can do
When torn asunder - oh my catastrophic blunder!

But we must realise -
Our flaming want is meant to be!
We are the ocean and the sea;

[...] Read more

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Forsaking My Love

I hate you
I wish to tear you away from me
This tumor that clings to my chest
The thing that makes me ache
That haunts my dreams
And tears at my desires
You have brought me only pain
My untamed heart
That beast that gnaws at my soul
That pitifully whines
Bringing my mind into unwanted pain
Yet how can I blame you
How can I chastise you when I listen intently to your pleas
Why should I punish you for what my eyes feed upon
How can I blame my eyes for falling upon her
She who brings light to the eternal darkness of my soul
She whose eyes bring me to subjection
Whose smile leaves me in awe
How can I blame you when my ears are met with her laughter
How they submerge into her song
How they quiver at her voice
Why should I punish you for inclining my soul
Tempting it with the one sense that has been forsaken by her
How could I look over the thought of the brushing of lips
The touching of hands
The binding of the soul, mind, and body
O you wretched heart
What am I to do with this constant companion
How could I tear you away
When she is the cause of my agony
Or rather
It is the lack of her which brings me sorrow
It is the need for her that leaves my heart in pain
Yet she is not mine
She was never mine
She will never be mine
O my poor heart
How can I make you see reason
When all you do is show me the truth

[...] Read more

poem by Michael Silver
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The greatest sin

Having supremely spell binding eyes was simply not a sin at all; but
pretending that you were gruesomely blind; unable to see a step
further even after possessing them right since innocent childhood;
was the greatest sin,

Having robust complexioned feet was simply not a sin at all; but
pretending that you couldn't walk even an inch forward; had not the
slightest of capacity to run even after possessing them right since
innocent childhood; was the greatest sin,

Having tenaciously knotted fingers projecting from the palm was
simply not a sin at all; but pretending that you had grave difficulty
in hoisting objects; didn't posses the most minuscule of power to
defend yourself even after possessing them right since innocent
childhood; was the greatest sin,

Having dangling earlobes delectably cascading from the periphery of
your rubicund cheek was simply not a sin at all; but pretending that
you couldn't bear the tiniest of sound; floundered miserably to
decipher the intricacy of voice even after possessing them right
since innocent childhood; was the greatest sin,

Having a perfectly throbbing heart palpitating in marvellous
synchrony inside your chest was simply not a sin at all; but
pretending that you just didn't have the power to love; the virtue to
embrace other humans of your kind even after possessing it right
since innocent childhood; was the greatest sin,

Having dual pairs of luscious lips was simply not a sin at all; but
pretending that you couldn't speak a single word; abysmally stuttered
to convey the most infinitesimal of message to your compatriots even
after possessing them right since innocent childhood; was the
greatest sin,

Having ravishing clusters of hair on your scalp was simply not a sin
at all; but pretending that God had kept you disdainfully bald; that
your head shivered uncontrollably in cold even after possessing them
right since innocent childhood; was the greatest sin,

Having boundless lines on your glowing palm was simply not a sin at
all; but pretending that your entire life was ruined; your progress
had come to an abrupt standstill even after possessing them right
since innocent childhood; was the greatest sin,

Having pompously bulging muscle in your arms was simply not a sin at
all; but pretending that you were as feeble as a mosquito; couldn't
lift your very own body even after having them right since innocent
childhood; was the greatest sin,

Having thousands of voluptuously tantalizing eyelashes extruding from

[...] Read more

poem by Nikhil Parekh
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I’m Pretending

I’m pretending nothing happened,
that we are still together.
I’m pretending you never
went away with someone new.
I’m pretending we are still a couple,
that you are still nearby.
I’m pretending,
pretending
I am still with you.

I’m pretending that our love
still shines brightly.
I’m pretending that you still care
and lying to myself each day.
I’m pretending that you just stepped out
and that you are not far away.
I’m pretending,
pretending
I am still with you.

I’m pretending it always summer
and that winter never comes.
I’m pretending life is as it was
and I’m forever with you.
I’m pretending you are with me
and not in the arms of someone new.
I’m pretending that I am smiling
and that I’m not feeling blue.
I’m pretending,
pretending
I am still with you.

20 April 2009

poem by David Harris
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Pretending

(by jerry lynn williams)
How many times must we tell the tale?
How many times must we fall?
Living in lost memory
You just recalled
Working on the sound of the band
Trying to get the music right
Two go out working
Three stay home at night
Thats when she said she was pretending
Like she knew the plan
Thats when I knew she was pretending
Pretending to understand
Pretending, pretending
Pretending, pretending
Satisfied but lost in love
Situations change
Youre never who you used to think you are
How strange
Chorus
I get lost in alibis
Sadness cant prevail
Everybody knows strong love
Cant fail
Dont be pretending about how you feel
Dont be pretending that your love is real
Dont be pretending about how you feel
Dont be pretending that your love is real
Pretending, pretending
Pretending, pretending

song performed by Eric Clapton
Added by Lucian Velea
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Her...

I can never get my mind off her,
I wonder if she'd mind if i'd,
make her my own,
and never let her go,
hug her tight,
treat her right,
act all polite,
take her on a date,
make sure i'm never late,
kiss her on her lips,
talk about our kids,
Make her feel like princess,
living in a castle,
hope that is not too much hassle,
But i am so blessed,
hope i can be the best,
hold you tight,
have your BR3A$t,
on my chest,
pass the test,
NOW YOUR MINE!

sorry for word spamming: (

love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love

poem by Jordan Moore
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Pretending

Love is a flame that can't be tamed
And though we are its willing prey, my darling
We are not the ones to blame
Trust is a word all lovers know
The glorious art of staining souls, my darling
We are not the ones to blame
The more we have the more we want
And the more it hurts our hearts, my baby
It always ends up in tears
So keep on pretending
Our heaven is worth the waiting
Keep on pretending, it's alright
So keep on pretending
It will be the end of our craving
Keep on pretending
It's alright
When doubts arise the game begins
The one we will never win, my baby
It always ends up in tears
So keep on pretending
Our heaven is worth the waiting
Keep on pretending, it's alright
So keep on pretending
It will be the end of our craving
Keep on pretending
It's alright
Come on...
So keep on pretending
Our heaven is worth the waiting
Keep on pretending, it's alright
So keep on pretending
It will be the end of our craving
Keep on pretending
It's alright
Love is a flame that can't be tamed
And though we are its willing prey, my darling
We are not the ones to blame

song performed by H.I.M.
Added by Lucian Velea
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Pretending

Love is a flame that cant be tamed
And though we are its willing prey, my darling
We are not the ones to blame
Trust is a word all lovers know
The glorious art of staining souls, my darling
We are not the ones to blame
The more we have the more we want
And the more it hurts our hearts, my baby
It always ends up in tears
So keep on pretending
Our heaven is worth the waiting
Keep on pretending, its alright
So keep on pretending
It will be the end of our craving
Keep on pretending
Its alright
When doubts arise the game begins
The one we will never win, my baby
It always ends up in tears
So keep on pretending
Our heaven is worth the waiting
Keep on pretending, its alright
So keep on pretending
It will be the end of our craving
Keep on pretending
Its alright
Come on...
So keep on pretending
Our heaven is worth the waiting
Keep on pretending, its alright
So keep on pretending
It will be the end of our craving
Keep on pretending
Its alright
Love is a flame that cant be tamed
And though we are its willing prey, my darling
We are not the ones to blame

song performed by H.i.m. (his Infernal Majesty)
Added by Lucian Velea
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Keep It Clean

Keep it clean.
Every crack your packing.
Soap it up and down.
Rinse that dirt away.

So hard they've tried to reflect perfection.
A wholesome outlook,
With good deeds done they do!
They want to project a godlike self righteousness.
With wings adorned and hymns sung!
Angelic voices from everyone,
Harmonizing,
In collective united bliss.
But the truth about this...
There is BS that sits within their midst,
And not one of them can resist
An addicting sniff!
Since they are all full of it!

Keep it clean.
Every crack your packing.
Soap it up and down.
Rinse that dirt away.

Something kept stinking...
From fat greasy meat.
Suited and smoking cigars,
Chartering planes with high profiled stars.
And posing with those who piloted...
The sucking up of all resources.
As admirers rejoiced!
Thinking they heard 'voices' from beyond...
'You too could live like this!
We'll make sure of it! '

Keep it clean.
Every crack your packing.
Soap it up and down.
Rinse that dirt away.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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This, My Song, Is Made For Kerensky

(Being a Chant of the American Soap-Box and the Russian Revolution.)

O market square, O slattern place,
Is glory in your slack disgrace?
Plump quack doctors sell their pills,
Gentle grafters sell brass watches,
Silly anarchists yell their ills.
Shall we be as weird as these?
In the breezes nod and wheeze?

Heaven's mass is sung,
Tomorrow's mass is sung
In a spirit tongue
By wind and dust and birds,
The high mass of liberty,
While wave the banners red:
Sung round the soap-box,
A mass for soldiers dead.

When you leave your faction in the once-loved hall,
Like a true American tongue-lash them all,
Stand then on the corner under starry skies
And get you a gang of the worn and the wise.
The soldiers of the Lord may be squeaky when they rally,
The soldiers of the Lord are a queer little army,
But the soldiers of the Lord, before the year is through,
Will gather the whole nation, recruit all creation,
To smite the hosts abhorred, and all the heavens renew —
Enforcing with the bayonet the thing the ages teach —
Free speech!
Free speech!

Down with the Prussians, and all their works.
Down with the Turks.
Down with every army that fights against the soap-box,
The Pericles, Socrates, Diogenes soap-box,
The old Elijah, Jeremiah, John-the-Baptist soap-box,
The Rousseau, Mirabeau, Danton soap-box,
The Karl Marx, Henry George, Woodrow Wilson soap-box.
We will make the wide earth safe for the soap-box,
The everlasting foe of beastliness and tyranny,
Platform of liberty: — Magna Charta liberty,
Andrew Jackson liberty, bleeding Kansas liberty,
New-born Russian liberty: —
Battleship of thought,
The round world over,
Loved by the red-hearted,
Loved by the broken-hearted,
Fair young Amazon or proud tough rover,

[...] Read more

poem by Vachel Lindsay
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Bitter Blow of Love

Love! you dealt a bitter blow –
You lay me cross the mortal plains,
Bedewed, bedimmed amongst a show
Of tearful clouds: eternal rains
To weep at my enduring foe

Of harsh reality – searing pains of
Destiny: dependable propensity
To fool myself repeatedly
That I could ever triumph over love!

[...] Read more

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Pretending

I was right the first time
But I outguessed myself
You sympathized so sweetly
When you sent me to hell
What have I got to complain for
Had to throw myself overboard
Like to see that my dues are paid
Its just the way I was made
And when I cry, I was burning inside
Youre out there pretending
And though I lie, I had nothing to hide
Youre the one whos pretending
I live in anticipation
Things that never occurred
Turned my back to the loving ones
On the strength of your word
Whats the answer Im looking for
You mix your meanings with metaphors
Glass bricks and a ten foot wall
You really dont care at all
And when I came to relieve all the pain
You were somewhere pretending
And Im still here, and its still just as clear
That youre only pretending
I believe in believing
And I hope that theres still hope for me
cause I need to be needing
And youre free to be free as you please
But Im not the kind
Who can live with life
And I never could
cause Im just no good at pretending
Whats the truth after all this time
Is it your perception or is it mine
Sometimes youre better off alone
You cant get blood from a stone
And while you cry, Ill be laughing inside
cause I know youre pretending
Look me straight in the eye
When I tell you good bye
cause I wont be pretending
You could beg me and fall down on your knees
But youd just be pretending
Maybe someday youll have something to say
And you wont be pretending

song performed by Utopia
Added by Lucian Velea
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Just Gimme Some Truth

Im sick and tired of hearing things
From uptight, short-sighted, narrow-minded hypocritics
All I want is the truth
Just gimme some truth
Ive had enough of reading things
By neurotic, psychotic, pig-headed politicians
All I want is the truth
Just gimme some truth
No short-haired, yellow-bellied, son of tricky dicky
Is gonna mother hubbard soft soap me
With just a pocketful of hope
Money for dope
Money for rope
No short-haired, yellow-bellied, son of tricky dicky
Is gonna mother hubbard soft soap me
With just a pocketful of soap
Money for dope
Money for rope
Im sick to death of seeing things
From tight-lipped, condescending, mamas little chauvinists
All I want is the truth
Just gimme some truth now
Ive had enough of watching scenes
Of schizophrenic, ego-centric, paranoiac, prima-donnas
All I want is the truth now
Just gimme some truth
No short-haired, yellow-bellied, son of tricky dicky
Is gonna mother hubbard soft soap me
With just a pocketful of soap
Its money for dope
Money for rope
Ah, Im sick and tired of hearing things
From uptight, short-sighted, narrow-minded hypocrites
All I want is the truth now
Just gimme some truth now
Ive had enough of reading things
By neurotic, psychotic, pig-headed politicians
All I want is the truth now
Just gimme some truth now
All I want is the truth now
Just gimme some truth now
All I want is the truth
Just gimme some truth
All I want is the truth
Just gimme some truth

song performed by Lennon John
Added by Lucian Velea
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Give Me Some Truth

I'm sick & tired of hearing things
From uptight, short-sighted, narrow-minded
All I want is the truth
Just give me some truth
I've had enough of reading things
By neurotic, psychotic pig-headed politicians
All I want is the truth
Just give me some truth
No short-haired, yellow-bellied son-of-tricky-dicky's
Gonna mother hubbard soft soap me with just a bundle of hope
It's money for dope
Money for rope
No short-haired, yellow-bellied son-of-tricky-dicky's
Gonna mother hubbard soft soap me with just a bucket of soap
It's money for dope
Money for rope
I'm sick to death of seeing things
From tight-lipped, condescending, mother's little chauvinists
All I want is the truth
Just give me some truth
I've had enough of watching scenes
With schizophrenic, egocentric, paranoiac prima donnas
All I want is the truth
Just give me some truth
No short-haired, yellow-bellied son-of-tricky-dicky's
Gonna mother hubbard soft soap me with just a bucket of soap
It's money for dope
Money for rope
[Repeat 1st & 2nd verses]

song performed by Travis
Added by Lucian Velea
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Blind Youth

No future they say
But must it be that way?
Now is calling
The city is human
Blind youth take hope, youre no joe soap
Your time is due, big fun come soon
Weve had it easy, we should be glad
High-rise livings not so bad
Blind youth take hope, youre no joe soap
Your time is due, big fun come soon
Dehumanisation
Is such a big word
Its been around since
Richard the third
Dehumanisation
Its easy to say
But if youre not a hermit
Youll know the citys okay
No future they say
But must it be that way
Now is calling
The city is human
Blind youth take hope, youre no joe soap
Your time is due, big fun come soon
Blind youth take hope, youre no joe soap
Your time is due, big fun come soon
Weve had it easy, we should be glad
High-rise livings not so bad
Blind youth take hope, youre no joe soap
Your time is due, big fun come soon
Blind youth take hope, youre no joe soap
Your time is due, big fun come soon
Blind youth take hope, youre no joe soap
Your time is due, big fun come soon

song performed by Human League
Added by Lucian Velea
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Yet Dish

I
Put a sun in Sunday, Sunday.
Eleven please ten hoop. Hoop.
Cousin coarse in coarse in soap.
Cousin coarse in soap sew up. soap.
Cousin coarse in sew up soap.

II
A lea ender stow sole lightly.
Not a bet beggar.
Nearer a true set jump hum,
A lamp lander so seen poor lip.

III
Never so round.
A is a guess and a piece.
A is a sweet cent sender.
A is a kiss slow cheese.
A is for age jet.

IV
New deck stairs.
Little in den little in dear den.

V
Polar pole.
Dust winder.
Core see.
A bale a bale o a bale.

VI
Extravagant new or noise peal extravagant.

VII
S a glass.
Roll ups.

VIII
Powder in wails, powder in sails, powder is all next to it is does
wait sack rate all goals like chain in clear.

IX
Negligible old star.
Pour even.
It was a sad per cent.
Does on sun day.
Watch or water.
So soon a moon or a old heavy press.

[...] Read more

poem by Gertrude Stein
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It IS Milk!

Pretend it is milk!
That is all we are asking you to do!
Just keep pretending that it is.
What difference does it make,
That it isn't produced from a cow?
Keep pretending that it was!
And your pretensions will make it come true.

'But...
It is not milk!
It's not even a cheap version of it.'

'It is!
It IS milk! '

Great!
Now...
Let's move on to the meat and vegetables.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Hunting of the Snark: An Agony in Eight Fits

Fit the First.
THE LANDING

"Just the place for a Snark!" the Bellman cried,
As he landed his crew with care;
Supporting each man on the top of the tide

By a finger entwined in his hair.
"Just the place for a Snark! I have said it twice:
That alone should encourage the crew.
Just the place for a Snark! I have said it thrice:

What I tell you three times is true."
The crew was complete: it included a Boots—
A maker of Bonnets and Hoods—
A Barrister, brought to arrange their disputes—

And a Broker, to value their goods.
A Billiard-marker, whose skill was immense,
Might perhaps have won more than his share—
But a Banker, engaged at enormous expense,

Had the whole of their cash in his care.
There was also a Beaver, that paced on the deck,
Or would sit making lace in the bow:
And had often (the Bellman said) saved them from wreck,

Though none of the sailors knew how.
There was one who was famed for the number of things
He forgot when he entered the ship:
His umbrella, his watch, all his jewels and rings,

And the clothes he had bought for the trip.
He had forty-two boxes, all carefully packed,
With his name painted clearly on each:
But, since he omitted to mention the fact,
They were all left behind on the beach.

The loss of his clothes hardly mattered, because
He had seven coats on when he came,
With three pairs of boots—but the worst of it was,
He had wholly forgotten his name.

He would answer to "Hi!" or to any loud cry,
Such as "Fry me!" or "Fritter my wig!"
To "What-you-may-call-um!" or "What-was-his-name!"
But especially "Thing-um-a-jig!"

While, for those who preferred a more forcible word,
He had different names from these:

[...] Read more

poem by Lewis Carroll (1876)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Hunting of the Snark

Fit the First
THE LANDING

'Just the place for a Snark!' the Bellman cried,
As he landed his crew with care;
Supporting each man on the top of the tide
By a finger entwined in his hair.

'Just the place for a Snark! I have said it twice:
That alone should encourage the crew.
Just the place for a Snark! I have said it thrice:
What i tell you three times is true.'

The crew was complete: it included a Boots--
A maker of Bonnets and Hoods--
A Barrister, brought to arrange their disputes--
And a Broker, to value their goods.

A Billiard-maker, whose skill was immense,
Might perhaps have won more than his share--
But a Banker, engaged at enormous expense,
Had the whole of their cash in his care.

There was also a Beaver, that paced on the deck,
Or would sit making lace in the bow:
And had often (the Bellman said) saved them from wreck,
Though none of the sailors knew how.

There was one who was famed for the number of things
He forgot when he entered the ship:
His umbrella, his watch, all his jewels and rings,
And the clothes he had bought for the trip.

He had forty-two boxes, all carefully packed,
With his name painted clearly on each:
But, since he omitted to mention the fact,
They were all left behind on the beach.

The loss of his clothes hardly mattered, because
He had seven coats on when he came,
With three pairs of boots--but the worst of it was,
He had wholly forgotten his name.

He would answer to 'Hi!' or to any loud cry,
Such as 'Fry me!' or 'Fritter my wig!'
To 'What-you-may-call-um!' or 'What-was-his-name!'
But especially 'Thing-um-a-jig!'

While, for those who preferred a more forcible word,
He had different names from these:

[...] Read more

poem by Lewis Carroll
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The Scripture of the Golden Eternity

1
Did I create that sky? Yes, for, if it was anything other than a conception in my mind I wouldnt have said 'Sky'-That is why I am the golden eternity. There are not two of us here, reader and writer, but one, one golden eternity, One-Which-It-Is, That-Which- Everything-Is.

2
The awakened Buddha to show the way, the chosen Messiah to die in the degradation of sentience, is the golden eternity. One that is what is, the golden eternity, or, God, or, Tathagata-the name. The Named One. The human God. Sentient Godhood. Animate Divine. The Deified One. The Verified One. The Free One. The Liberator. The Still One. The settled One. The Established One. Golden Eternity. All is Well. The Empty One. The Ready One. The Quitter. The Sitter. The Justified One. The Happy One.

3
That sky, if it was anything other than an illusion of my mortal mind I wouldnt have said 'that sky.' Thus I made that sky, I am the golden eternity. I am Mortal Golden Eternity.

4
I was awakened to show the way, chosen to die in the degradation of life, because I am Mortal Golden Eternity.

5
I am the golden eternity in mortal animate form.

6
Strictly speaking, there is no me, because all is emptiness. I am empty, I am non-existent. All is bliss.

7
This truth law has no more reality than the world.

8
You are the golden eternity because there is no me and no you, only one golden eternity.

9
The Realizer. Entertain no imaginations whatever, for the thing is a no-thing. Knowing this then is Human Godhood.

10
This world is the movie of what everything is, it is one movie, made of the same stuff throughout, belonging to nobody, which is what everything is.

11
If we were not all the golden eternity we wouldnt be here. Because we are here we cant help being pure. To tell man to be pure on account of the punishing angel that punishes the bad and the rewarding angel that rewards the good would be like telling the water 'Be Wet'-Never the less, all things depend on supreme reality, which is already established as the record of Karma earned-fate.

12
God is not outside us but is just us, the living and the dead, the never-lived and never-died. That we should learn it only now, is supreme reality, it was written a long time ago in the archives of universal mind, it is already done, there's no more to do.

13
This is the knowledge that sees the golden eternity in all things, which is us, you, me, and which is no longer us, you, me.

14
What name shall we give it which hath no name, the common eternal matter of the mind? If we were to call it essence, some might think it meant perfume, or gold, or honey. It is not even mind. It is not even discussible, groupable into words; it is not even endless, in fact it is not even mysterious or inscrutably inexplicable; it is what is; it is that; it is this. We could easily call the golden eternity 'This.' But 'what's in a name?' asked Shakespeare. The golden eternity by another name would be as sweet. A Tathagata, a God, a Buddha by another name, an Allah, a Sri Krishna, a Coyote, a Brahma, a Mazda, a Messiah, an Amida, an Aremedeia, a Maitreya, a Palalakonuh, 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 would be as sweet. The golden eternity is X, the golden eternity is A, the golden eternity is /\, the golden eternity is O, the golden eternity is [ ], the golden eternity is t-h-e-g-o-l-d-e-n-e-t-e-r- n-i-t-y. In the beginning was the word; before the beginning, in the beginningless infinite neverendingness, was the essence. Both the word 'god' and the essence of the word, are emptiness. The form of emptiness which is emptiness having taken the form of form, is what you see and hear and feel right now, and what you taste and smell and think as you read this. Wait awhile, close your eyes, let your breathing stop three seconds or so, listen to the inside silence in the womb of the world, let your hands and nerve-ends drop, re-recognize the bliss you forgot, the emptiness and essence and ecstasy of ever having been and ever to be the golden eternity. This is the lesson you forgot.

15
The lesson was taught long ago in the other world systems that have naturally changed into the empty and awake, and are here now smiling in our smile and scowling in our scowl. It is only like the golden eternity pretending to be smiling and scowling to itself; like a ripple on the smooth ocean of knowing. The fate of humanity is to vanish into the golden eternity, return pouring into its hands which are not hands. The navel shall receive, invert, and take back what'd issued forth; the ring of flesh shall close; the personalities of long dead heroes are blank dirt.

16
The point is we're waiting, not how comfortable we are while waiting. Paleolithic man waited by caves for the realization of why he was there, and hunted; modern men wait in beautified homes and try to forget death and birth. We're waiting for the realization that this is the golden eternity.

17
It came on time.

[...] Read more

poem by Jack Kerouac
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