Tag Archives: Emotional Suicide

Visions of Muses

 

From deep within the terrifying yet oft exhilarating infinite limits,

Limitless,

Of Escher labyrinths,

This lost and found boy;

 

A chosen light, stirred, awakened, ignited;

S C R eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee A M S upon shattered bone yards

Of rhetoric,

Meteoric echoes of a boy confined in a mans body;

Though not his own,

Not mine, not now, not ever;

I and I and I,

Beyond comprehension as

Concentric circles collide,

Like the infinite loops of the Typhon, reminiscent of oracles,

Delphic;

 

Non Omnis Moriar, Non Omnis Moriar,
Non,

Omnis,
Moriar.

 

Cerebus, as always,

Chuckles as Orthus orbits death,
“Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.””

 

Reluctantly as yet without possibility beyond the foretold,

Alpha to Omega , Beta to Theta,

Gamma and everything in between,

Immortality now, sound bytes at a time,

Selfies and facebook posts;

The rush of fools, errands, errant,

Living for the dying, despicable pawns, in a cosmic quandary,

Little boy lost,

Here;

Doing societal laundry.

Moriar,

Omnis,
Non,

Trailing backwards granted powers beyond omnipotence,

As strange fruit hangs from trees,

The hollowed out trunks of spirits subdued, blackened by soot,

While Mississippi burns and the ashes pure,

White like a forest of birch,

The touch of the divine.

 

Asphalts stained with progress and hotter than the sun,

Reveal devilish intents, malcontents and miscreants,

Pugilistic linguists portend of a cunning,

Whereby they knowingly, willingly, crazily,

Cut off their noses to spite their faces,

A pound of flesh no more nor less.

 

While Lamia plots her nine course meal,

Virgil awaits her intrigue,

Delectable feasts for the sins of the father

Are revisited on the kindred innocent,

With Harpies as footservants and wolves as maître ds’.

 

The Sirens call, serially,

Sailing me to the edges of a vile torment,

One that was created a moment before my consciousness,

Primordially secreted and passed on,

As I too have done; Realizing I am

Left in a rowboat,

Steering for the rocks,

Bubbling discontent like an effervescent pill,

Bitter,

Locked inside…

 

Then,

With a heralds cry,

Hark,

Love,

Like a resounding vision,

In words, deeds and sensational vibrations,

Draws me near,

Pulls me, all of me,

I and I and I from the gauntlet,

Embraces every atom of my being,

And in that instant I understand,

The universal discourse,

Treatise and song,

That brought me back from the edge,

Void of reason,

Want or desire,

Other than the pure radiance and resplendence,

Of an authentic life,

Lived genuinely,

Advancing,

Choosing now to actively avoid the prison of my emotional suicide,

Instead practicing abstinence from it,

By being I and I and I,

And,

Creating,

s e r e n d i p i t y,

s e r e n i t y,

Love and L I G H T!

Sender D. MacLean

 

(Inspired by a good friend who gave me the following words; serendipity effervescent labyrinth abstinence rhetoric and the song)

 

 

 

 

 

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Emotional Suicide

Emotional,

Suicides,

Continuity of contemplations,

Yesterday gone by,

Now;
Catalyst of catapulting concentricity,

Like hell,

Only opposed,

For those seeming endless hours endured,

Tattered tears of troubled tears,

Reveal Hemingway’s hidden truth,

Exposed,

My invisible doppelganger sings out;

“The world breaks everybody;

And afterward,

Some are stronger in the broken places.”
Broken places,

The caves of dialogues with Plato,

Wherein shadows portend light,

And light seems a forgotten meme,

Like a vanished childhood memory;

 

Recaptured with the taste of a candy apple or cotton candy,

Or dirt;

 

Simplicity refined,

Ill defined and unwritten,

Until now.
Emotional suicides aside,

For now,

The cave dwellers,
I and I and I,

Elect to reemerge as chosen light,

For the light we have chosen,

I and I and I,

Seek clarity, knowledge of self(ves),

Nosce Te Ipsum,

To triumphantly engage,

In the most precious journey,

Fatherhood.

Let this cry ring out,

From broken soul

now

Kintsugi,

To broken souls,

This light is not the end of the tunnel,

But the tunnel itself,

Neither pessimism nor cynicism,

Can or will alter Sender revisited,

Rejuvenated, restored and improved.

 

Let these cries be perceived,

To all those searching,

Walking the daunting paths of Dante’s design,

Feeling entombed,

Dash forward, ever onward,

Tunnel and tunnel more,

Until this universal truth becomes as real for you,

As I and I and I.

 

Words can seem empty,

Feeble and pedantic,

Yet as I climb from this cavity of interminable despondency,

I and I and I stand witness(es),

Bold and humbled,

By the fire inside,

That is the light;

Emotional Suicide be damned,

And art on,

Whatever that art may be

For therein lay your (OUR) liberation,

And utter determination,
I and I and I’s art is simple,

An authentic life;

Non Omnis Moriar.

Sender D. MacLean

 

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