Tag Archives: Nosce Te Ipsum

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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Infinite Smile of Love Accepting

From birth,

Inside each of us burns a desire,

An ever growing and rapidly expanding light,

That seeks to create bliss in others,

As a pay it forward,

Such fire that burns brighter than the suns of every solar system,

And emanates from every fibre of our being,

Initially we are dumbfounded by it,

Trying to play catch up with those grown things we see around us,

Supposed adults that act like children,

While WE children,

Seek to profess universal truths,

With giggles, glowing eyes and radiating glances,

Beaming to every corner of the cosmos,

Every planet, far and wide,

Every island, old and newly forming,

Adorning in our hearts,

A compassion that seems lacking as we get older,

But herein lay the good news,

While we must age,

We do NOT have to grow up,

Nor should we…

 

Don’t judge; embrace the difference in others,

Don’t hate; for it is merely ignorance dressed up as anger,

Don’t yell; improve your argument,

Don’t fear; we are all here for you,

Don’t hide; you are meant to stand out.

You see,

The trouble is,

My beautiful child,

Sweet, innocent, lovely and resplendent baby,

Too many adults forgot how to be children,

But not me,

And I truly hope, for you,

And for the world,

That knowing people like your awe inspiring mother,

(who know kids like me),

You hold onto all that greatness inside you,

Remembering every step, walk and then run of the way,

You were born out of a boundless,

Interminable and stunning natural truth,

LOVE REPEATS,

We are not alone in this world, or this universe,

(as yet unproven but nonetheless true)

And we can not, must not try to replace natural law,

With our arrogant human folly,

As grown ups for countless millennia have done,

You, are not an island,

Well,

You are,

But that is another matter,

For Celtic wisdom and Gaelic ancients to explain to you,

(and they will, trust me)

In their time,

This is our time,

Two kids,

One young,

The other younger,

Exploring the dynamic and rapidly evolving landscape,

Of love repeating.

My precious and beautiful love,

In your eyes I see my own soul reflected,

I see the promise of another child,

Who like me,

Will choose to remain a child,

That will burst from the pack,

Be a leader, by example,

In an extraordinary explosion equal to,

If not greater than the big bang,

(and someday you’ll understand just how much I see in you),

For every promise of our forefathers and foremothers,

The greatness of our ancestors lives within you,

You have the power,

To breathe,

To see,

To hear,

To touch,

To create,

To become who and what you want to be,

Guided by the externalities of those who love you,

And the internalities,

Of locked caverns inside of you,

That you have no need to ever explain to anyone,

You were born out of a love repeating,

Love,
Love,
L O V E,

You were born to design a manifest destiny for your own reasons,

A meaning and purpose built by your own passions,

Thus ensuring,

Love will be repeating,

And many years from now,

When I recite these words to you,

Still, as a kid, one young, the other younger,

I hope that you will remember these words,

Natural law and universal truths,

And maybe, luckily,

Cause my belief that,

Non Omnis Moriar,

When explaining to your love repeating,

Why these words were born,

Your words,

Yours alone,

(though I trust you don’t mind I have unleashed this force of love).

Precocious,

Incorrigible,

Fierce,

Preordained to ascend to prominence,

I carry the joy of your radiating spirit with me,

Now and ever more,

For the moment I laid eyes on you,

I knew,

I saw the future,

And yours is a force that no man, woman or animal may stop,

Yours is a future,

Where love repeating,

Repeating,

Repeating,

Will replace the resounding sound of armies marching,

Machines plundering,

And truly the iniquity of man,

My sweet and beautiful escape,

These words are yours,

And if I ever find myself stranded on a desert island,

I will never be ALONE,

For having seen a joy,

A destiny,

Of love repeating,

And I am humbled by your shine.

SDM

PS. Listen to Mommy and Daddy. They may not know everything but they do know a lot. Tell them the truth no matter how hard or scary it is. READ everything you can get your hands on. QUESTION EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE. BE YOURSELF.

Nosce Te Ipsum.

And know this, I am always here for you. Non Omnis Moriar.

 

 

 

 

 

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R O A R – Sia Didn’t Stay

“I was not the lion, but it fell to me to give the lion’s roar.”

Winston Churchill

 

It fell to me,

As you ran,

From yourself,

From who you want to be,

It fell,

To me… Yet…

 

Too timid,

Too confused,

Too immersed in misunderstood cultural actualities,

Too fooled by an naughty smile,

Filled with insecurity

(still evident and handcuffing)

I know it’s hard to believe,

For years of my life,

I fooled you all,

Submissive to designs,

Of those who did not have my best interests in mind,

Avarice and deadly sins like fallen skeletons,

Wounding me,

Those that learned love was my Achilles heel,

Is my Achilles heel,

And like Sisyphus I feel

This weakness is rock but also

My amour, armor pierced,

Genuine to myself,

Nosce Te Ipsum,

Who and what I am,

Yet still

Left reeling,

Panging,

Longing,

Desiring,

My everything,

Wandering our proverbial jungle,

Concrete, wilderness and my mistaken impressions,

In efforts to understand,

Who am I?

What am I?

I and I and I left standing again,

Holding an empty bag,

Where once my love was known,

An unborn child lighting my way,

My Sia,

To the life I wanted,

The life I need,

And in an instant gone,

Torn from my happiness,

And I fell.

 

More like alley cat than lion,

Battered and bruised after one too many brawls,

Until my life changed, destined,

First a nervous break down,

My purr not yet a growl,

Wounds licked,

My tongue satiating a troubled mind,

As with loves ripe cancellation,

My growls not yet roar,

Though the seed was thrown,

Aborted,

Poor Sia…

Tossed aside,

As readily as a half eaten plate of food,

Worse still,

You must reap what you sow,

Therefore I had to submit to pain,

Sullen,

Fallen,

My Black Dog screaming…

Priority one,

Revive this beautiful soul,

Radiant spirit,

Release myself,

Held captive by endless lies,

Heart wrenching,

After months of sublime bliss.

 

Admitting defeat,

Of my spiritual energy,

My mental plague,

Excelling beyond the blind leading the blind,

My eyes opened by continual struggle,

Between perceptions of good and evil,

Love and hate,

Right and wrong,

I dare you to deception again,

Forewarning you,

That while I have been,

Fooled since birth,

Fooled by you,

Shame on me for believing,

Told of only two polarities,

Black and white,

Account for all,

Rather than the truth,

Shades of grey,

Cultural difference

And outsiders interference,

Inference, conjecture and aspersions,

I and I and I,

Gaining strength,

Gaining insight,

I and I and I,

Gathering the will to journey on,

Allowing my face to become a beacon,

A signal to the world,

To you,

My mane is growing again,

My growl becoming roar,

Here I come,

One word,

One sentence,

One stanza at a time,

(Though even the Lion needs pride)

Platitudes left behind,

As you thought I’d stay in this repressive mental state,

Following the trail of deceit,

Taking the bait,

Self induced, professed and confessed,

Caught inside the scope of a trophy hunters rifle,

Yet the hunter visionless,

Saw only the immediate in front of them,

No foresight.

Roar,

Now firmly entrenched in my literary persona,

Warrior Poet,

King of,

Not just the proverbial jungle,

But also the one,

That leads me to you,

Whoever you are,

For now,

Poets united,

Wrestling with the intangible,

With love, fate, hurt and the Ether,

Over optic cables,

In the distance,

I hear you all,

And beseech you,

To do the same…

 

R

O

A

R

!

 

Rise from the shackles of experience,

Be more,

Better,

Rise,

Slough off mistakes,

With wisdom gleaned,

Rise,

Know that tomorrow is another day,

Stand proud,

Shattered yet intact and recognize,

These words are salvation,

While cold comfort to the romantic ideals we strive,

These words,

Like a lion’s roar,

Keep us alive…

R

O
A

R

!

 

SDM

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Trimester Realities in Multiple Dimensions

A few short weeks ago,

I was a third trimester fetus,

Reincarnated,

Brought on by a first trimester reality,

Clinging to the umbilical cord of life,

While letting go of the other,

To my great dismay,

And my black dog’s laughter,

A symbiotic relationship that benefited both love, and me

Now,

As the day approaches,

When sober thoughts

And new opportunities present themselves,

It is time for me to learn anew,

Everything that once I had known,

I do not know,

I did not know,

Taking nothing for granted,

I must,

Listen to the world around me,

To the Ether,

To Ernest,

Finding the auditory cues that will again lead me to speech,

I must develop new teeth,

A painful process from which my words will gain bite,

I must learn to crawl,

Wiggling this Peter Pan body all over the place,

A man child,

Until finally,

Finding balance,

I can stand and walk for only a few steps,

Those steps the beginning of a lifetime of journeys,

Love lost,

Love found,

From walking to running,

I sprint toward myself,

Intentionally,

Relentlessly,

Beautifully,

Making mistakes all along the way,

Experience,

Releasing a pain so fresh,

That my body aches just considering it,

As too does my soul,

Now,

I must learn to speak,

First through repetition and rapport,

Until finally,

I am forming my own words,

My own sentences,

My own expression of self,

Nosce Te Ipsum,

Growing up through this world,

I will learn ever new and wonderful things,

Be awed, inspired and inspiring,

And I will become what we all know I am meant to,

What I have always known,

Ernest in my ear,

What I already am,

Though,

Like child rearing,

(and believe me I was sand am o ready)

It will take time,

To heal,

Mistakes will be made,

And I will learn from them,

Experience them,

Own them,

Yet,

Through the wonder of a child’s eyes,

While imagining my Sia,

I am now looking at this world in a fresh and amazing way,

It is as if I am seeing it all again,

I am seeing it all again,

For the first time,

A trick played on my mind,

Through my action and intent

To comfort my mind,

In this period of grief,

Profound and gut wrenching,

Yet,

Though childbirth is painful,

My childbirth is a different kind of pain,

Ripe,

Rather than worrying about ten fingers or toes,

I am concerned with taking this newly born,

Innocent and empathetic mind,

Through the stages of childhood,

To reveal a man reborn,

Not a perfect man,

A better man,

Better than I was yesterday,

I and I aware of the exquisite pain of this rebirth,

I am to become,

The man of my dreams,

And one day,

Someone will see me,

For who and what I truly am…

Loving me without hesitation,

But until then,

Childbirth can be painful!

SDM

 

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Buddha Says…

 

“You Are Your Own Master…”
If only this were true,
Perhaps at one time it was great Buddha,
Yet,
Inside of me a furious demon of possession burns bright,
So intense,
That it darkens my thoughts,
Maybe one day I shall return,
Triumphant inside my own mind.

“Be A Light Unto Yourself…”

I am trying,
How am I trying,
Through this inner exploration of strife,
The endless cycle of creation and destruction,
The black hole of my existence,
Seeking from within,
The answers that I am without.

“All that we are is the result of what we have thought. The mind is everything. What we think we become….”

Is that so dear Buddha?
For if it is I then am victim of my own mind,
This is my fault,
Imprisoned by thoughts I do not understand,
Is this possibly true?
If so,
Is it possible then,
That I am capable of changing my Black Dog,
Into a Brown Lab or Border Collie,
Or perhaps make a red rose yellow,
Would this truth then,
Free me from these bastard thoughts?

“You yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe deserve your love and affection.”

Time has taught me differently,
For though I give of myself selflessly,
Without seeking reward,
Love has always abandoned me,
Left me bleeding by the roadside,
Kicked while I was down,
To the point that I wonder,
What do I deserve in this universe?
I’ve answered its call,
I’ve done what it asked of me,
What more must I do?

“Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth.”

As I wander through your thoughts,
The record of your life,
The great way with which you lived,
I can say without equivocation,
This is true.

“The only real failure in life is not to be true to the best one knows.”

Really?
I have tried,
Toiled,
Struggled,
Battled,
Fought,
And sought to be the best my mind allows,
Though it seems not enough,
The fragmented mind I did not choose,
The rampart shattering distractions of this psyche in flux,
Major failure,
Major setback.

“Believe nothing, no matter where you read it, or who said it, no matter if I have said it, unless it agrees with your own reason and your own common sense.”

Sense is by no means common,
And my reason right now must be questioned,
Perhaps one day,
It will prevail,
But now,
It seems,
The three parts of I,
Separate and distinct,
Require that I question reason,
For reasons I don’t know.

“A jug fills drop by drop.”

Drop,
Drop,
Drop,
This jug will never be filled,
For I crave more knowledge,
More skill,
More understanding,
Supposing that my jug will fill,
With my last breath.

“Even death is not to be feared by one who has lived wisely.”

I fear not death,
Though I fear that does not make my life wise,
For when my last step has been made,
I will know that what I knew was always overreached by what I didn’t,
In that,
I am contented.

Don’t know why dear Buddha,
But today,
It’s your words, your beliefs,
That led me though tormented by thought,
To find comfort,
In all that I don’t know…

BUT… I do know…

Myself,
This world,
And beautiful,
Transcendent love,
Delivering me,
As surely as I sat underneath that tree,
Together,
Floating to a new understanding;

NOSCE TE IPSUM…

NOSCE TE IPSUM…

NOSCE…

I do…

And that is why I strive,
In spite of all…

SDM

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Concentric Cirlces

Bound and tightening knots,
Viscera turned and twisted,
Triumphant feelings arise,
Just as Phoenix reborn time and again,
Out of the ashes of a love decayed,
Hope restored and unchecked,
Robust agitations inside a craving mind,
As the soul longs yet unfulfilled,
Remembering that pain of loss, tragic,
More still the illustrious illuminations,
Of a childlike wonder and awe,
The unexplained actions and reactions,
Love, dear to all aspirations,
Of feeling mortals,
Such tumultuous and uncontrollable functions,
Of a body determined to realize passions veneration.

The sovereignty of the individual,
Presupposes laws of attraction,
As ordained by the great unknown,
Not just within, also, further than your imagination can acquire,
Deep insights into what it means to be one,
With yourself,
For before there can ever be two,
One needs to know,
Who and what they are,
What they seek,
Requiring a robust truthfulness that is rare,
In times,
Such of these,
Where instant gratification rules the day,
And the day appears long,
Shorter still then of love’s promise restored,
A lifetime shared.

Shall love require the transfer,
Of all one is to another,
At the expense of self,
No, dare it be required,
That the exact opposite be true,
Where no love can be so true,
Unless those party to it,
Are willing to acknowledge, understand and accept,
Without equivocation,
What love’s presentation requires,
Knowledge of self,
Anything less will make feeble such great emotion,
Leading down a decaying path, lasting perhaps years,
Perhaps only days,
Nosce Te Ipsum.

Standing near the waters edge,
Low tide driven by the moon,
A shingle invites the opportunity,
For concentric circles,
Skipping stones off a sheet of glass,
Water,
Reflecting back to you,
Everything you need to know,
About the way that love should inspire,
Concentric circles.

SDM

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Emerging Nosce Te Ipsum

Sleep.

Precious sleep.

Sleep eludes me,
The luxury of nightly recharging foreign to me,
Despite being ambassador to the inner workings of me,
So too does knowledge of the infinite evade me,
(unsettling me beyond measure)
The ever expanding void of Nosce Te Ipsum,
Whereas the quantum is something with which I am comfortable,
Though my nightly ritual,
Involves a cycle of half asleep and half awake,
I still,
Through some miracle,
(I know I am an Uber human)
My circadian rhythm interrupted,
Still allows,
That R.E.M. sleep finds me rapidly,
Ten minutes at a time,
Though,
On nights where I am half and half,
(Of which there are several weekly)
The dreams that usually come,
Are horrible nightmares of my worst creation,
Deviant creatures of dark purpose,
Annihilation assured,
The mental fragility that is I,
And I and I,
Assaulted by demonic thoughts,
The road I’m travelling is without advice,
There is no beacon of hope,
No light at the end of the tunnel,
No escape from rational thoughts interrupted,
By aggressive advances of my subconscious,
Each step one more in a direction,
That without chaperon,
Alight my fears,
Abandonment my greatest,
Frightening me to take action,
Desiring,
Needing,
Wanting to be surrounded by love,
I press forth,
One more step,
Yes, that’s it,
One more step and I will be free of these nightly terrors,
As societies jester I don’t understand,
Why the backs of all I know have been turned,
Attacking me for some unknown opulence,
A psychopathic doppelganger,
Little bastards of deviant thought,
Those send shivers down my spine,
And serotonin running for my brain stem,
Battling the dopamine rush,
A jolt of epic proportions that pushes me from my half and half state,
Back to this world,
Awakening my resilience,
To comprehend,
That which my subconscious is communicating,
What is it communicating,
What is it I am trying to tell myself,
With doomsday scenarios that play themselves out,
Inside this fractured mind,
Knowledge of the ways of this world,
The morally bankrupt and corrupting influences,
Tempered with a child like idealism,
Running from the reality of mutually assured destruction,
Into the abyss of my own disassociation,
Though I survive,
Unsure how or why,
I press on,
To the beat of obliterations drum,
Finding the time and strength,
To record,
What it is I’m seeing,
Feeling,
Hearing,
Touching,
Smelling,
Believing that this grand design,
Intelligent,
Has some purpose for my life,
And that as necessary precursor,
To this realization of self,
I must battle this nightly dread,
That I am yet to understand,
That I am yet to reach,
Perhaps,
These apparitions,
And the nightly terrors,
Are seeking to awaken the giant,
Sleeping,
So that I may find,
The ability,
To tyrannically proclaim,
Over my own subjugation of a runaway mind,
My domination,
Of this wounded spirit,
One step at a time,
Leading me to the Promised Land,
Of full comprehension of self,
As I emerge,
Once more,
Daily.

SDM

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