We can abbreviate life to action and reaction

Or action, then reaction, reaction and reaction.

A fraction of a notion, in motion

May probe sensation’s drive

Ripe for devotion.

Impaction’s inevitable when erupted emotion

Blinds us or binds

A universal commotion.

A step to the left, a shimmy to the right,

In sight, filtered by ego is a one-way flight

To total despair

At least in the mist of western air

Though compared to eastern time

Their circular take bears truth’s resemblance

Aware of impermanence

 

Breath in, breath out

Reaction, reaction

‘A transitory shout! 

There’s no absolute?

I shoot a dispute of manic uproot, 

Lest destroy or clutch what we can,

I demand material thread

Or to be no more than zonked, 

Horizontally spread.

For all that is, we may as well be dead – 

We derive from naught and die as such,

Void of all sense of whom we have touched’

 

Breath in breath out,

Reaction, reaction

The hedon’s attraction to nihilistic grounds

Drowns the sorrow, though too

The true sounds of silence.

We are all a flicker of light

In spite, such guides captains away from

Rock-strewn shores at night

Or simply be a sight of ecstasy-fueled beauty,

Spanning acutely.

 

Breath in, breath out

Reaction, reaction

We are, in part, sensitive.

We learn, collect, reject,

Partially discern

The movements of prior,

Yearning for our lost entire.

Movements come, movements go

A step to the left, a shimmy to the right

Permanence, a fib in material sight,

But let things be instruments

For rhythmic delight, growth of insight

And anarchistic height.

 

The distaste of the fast-paced rat-race

Shan’t debase our might

Though still it be infiltrated

For needless foresight of vacant tokens,

Quickly broken.

Awoken to perspective, this energy

Can be used to diffuse

A blaze of solitude

With our potential aptitudes

Interluding the narrative

With a state of renewed, revitalised mood.

Lest not be ruled by instruments, by systems,

Schooled by ignorance, so wilful

For all forms deprived of breath are neutral.

 

Our ideas, intentions compell,

A chair be brutal if expelled

From one’s hand into another’s face

Or a place of refuge, an emblem of futile space.

Our grace goes beyond

The arms of fathomed embrace,

Traced behind the barricades

Of fixed or unconfronted past,

Our Ernest path, perpetually harassed.

 

Breath in, breath out

Reaction, reaction

The material is confined, intuition vast

And lasts the longest,

Withstood in mind’s mast.

Alas, time, rounded or not

The ocean is merely a legion of drops.

Flock from despondent, dismal stop,

Swap bittering for bettering ourselves

Propping up those by self-compassionate overflow.

The top is mirage, we are in the know.

Forgo who we think we are,

The roles we play

For no more than one minute

The stillness holds the greatest mass of possibility,

Our true, known infinite.

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