Poetry in Slow Motion

I have always thought the term poetry in motion describes a moment in time locked forever in remembrance, forever worshiped in one's mind, but now I realize it is not her steps but the Queen herself my heart worships and only through her do I create and could my words bring slowness and vision upon physical action. To create for her is to blindly portray her wonder reflecting from between the trees, through the lake's moonlit reflection, probably adorned in the finest of shades just to celebrate her with me.

The more I write the further I send her to the ground in a spiraling twirl of decay, some loves are better left hidden and forgotten and even better yet unknown, yet I see her reflecting through all my incarnations as my single Queen, and to hold her in my fingertips I can only dream of, and allow time's decay instead, timeless is my Queen.

a movement is acomplished in 6 stages, and the 7th brings return

The science of dissection is the only form of medical science close to poetry and revelation, cutting towards truth, and if you know how to do it, truth will be there, cold like a corpse. Dead like it too.

They say suicide bombing is putting truths and facts on the table, delivering the cold hard truth. I think its more like mass advertising for 'target groups' and the more commercialized society becomes, its only time before McDonald's start producing commercialized suicide bombings for "now with extra cheese!" campaigns or Tiffany's hijack one of their own stores to advertise the new sale on Ivory Coast diamonds.

The way television is always available whenever you want it is everything that sex isn't and back when television wasn't, masturbation was everything that sex wasn't.

The race for arms in the atomic Olympics makes me suspicious about the basic need to exist of the countries participating and their benefit to the prolonging of the human race. Then again like every country is built from bottom feeders, there are also top feeders, only living on tax payer's money to wreak havoc worldwide or nationally. At this rate entire countries will start hitchhiking together to other countries and at the end there will only be one country and one nation for all.

I'm constantly amazed by the gradual shifts your consciousness goes through based on whatever you have been consuming be it food or drink, alcohol or drugs, cigarettes or medicine, its all an amusement park with a single Ferris Wheel on 1 bolt just waiting to go asunder.

Everything you take will lie to you, the past is a lie, the present is definitely not the real truth when you dissect it postmortem, who knows whats up with the future. There are no merchants for the truth, in fact I don't think there is such a thing as truth, can you find comfort in that?

The sun levels with sea
I ponder my existence but bought nothing
When you talk truth whispers

time; the illusion

The prospect of time travel, from a philosophical approach can be seen as a fairy tale reflection of our own reality; sending the lore of time travelers through the ages, of living with accepting ill omens and blindness ahead, doubt, no prior knowledge of future events. Dwelling into the origin of the myth of time travel one must also look at the amount of death and tragedy this planet has been through, the billions of souls lost to eventful calamities and the mundane silliness of life in society and in nature, the family cell, the need for leaders, the need for wars. All these human factors are certain catalysts for the tale.

What is known of the past is not concrete evidence of it, and it shouldn't be regarded as such, nor should we not learn what we can from it, albeit with a grain of wariness. The option of traveling to the past is available to anyone who desires so, through relics, historical writings, false teachings, mouth to ear folktale and now through cinema too, all privileges of those who are victorious and survivors, but to find an unbiased view of the past, a true chronicle of unedited cold fact, to achieve the undone is still unaccomplished.

It is a known human concept that anything that is considered impossible thus far is the craft of god, and to achieve anything of this field it is as if to look into the eyes of god, see as it does. Some say we are not far behind, having mapped out almost all of the human body through its DNA in the last century alone but with the poisoning of the land, its human and animal inhabitats, growth and living space ratio, extraordinary tyrannical super nations and smaller nations striving to become super nations, by means of atom, terror; with borders and racial awareness, constant holy wars, eternal oppression, but when the slaves grab the whip by its hand or claw, who will remain to write the future? What will the future have to say about the present?

The prospect of arriving from point A to point B, by means of little importance, would mean the fabric is complete i.e. predetermined, otherwise you won't be able to project yourself to a point in time that does not exist yet. The ethical implications of changing the past are irrelevant, as the first moment you step into the future, the past becomes null. If you would consider the human body as a time machine, with its nooks and crannies, faults and divinity, taking into consideration that it hosts different time streams all at once through nostalgia and anticipation, genetic memory, consider emotions and thoughts as a virtual interface, the mind's ports are sealed off and all you achieve is internal; you're basically hurtling your body towards the future at the speed of the Earth

Milan Kundera spoke of doubt, in relevance to it appearing when facing new situations, having no foresight and facing failure or uncertainty and of eternal return, concepts that both of which interlock with eachother, relating to the same field of thought, and touching eachother in theory, if the future is not only predetermined but lost from our sight, being, essence, the human race is not the first, last or only race based on intelligence and mental capacity and every magical feeling of fate is crushed under the weight of a programmed reality in which future never truly exists.

Heaven in Shambles

In the Mythological days the first sins against God's Law were Prometheus' theft of the flame of the Gods and Eve's bite of the fruit of Knowledge, the first apple. Both of which brought an extra step of the human evolution reserved only to the gods and resulted in the ultimate form of punishment.

Prometheus' eternal suffering by the beak of an eagle and Eve's banishment from the ancient Paradise, both reflect as one and the same, was it malice in their hearts when they offered the gift to Man or was it the understanding of the human endeavor, the mutual need to share knowledge and sorcery.

In retrospect it matters not, as with this Endnote all of humanity is both blessed and punished, forever shunned from the Gods. It is with high regard to these first acts of judgment through which we punish our own and banish them from the human paradise.

Are all modern crimes a nod to that initial original sin? Of course not, yet Man assumes the role of god and condemns his own to banishment and suffering, an evolution of law and judgment, another offshoot of the first need to accelerate humanity's rise.

Break not the law, lest you'll fall out of grace with today's Godhood, seated by humans same as you, with sin in their heart and also hope. The first sin may have passed long ago but its echo calls still through these times, and we are as far away from Heaven as the Gods have intended, who knows how many years past.