Topology of Spirit

April 22, 2015 § Leave a comment


Situated above the body and looking down
It is possible to see the way that things are

Unorganised, as it were, the site maps
A slow-forming casual consciousness

Where the multiplicity of the mind patiently
Unfolds and eventually unwinds itself across time.

Images are tacitly turning the present
Into an infinite future, and an irreducible past

In this slipstream there is no tangible current
For it is always elided and instead sprawls

Beneath me like a cartographer’s wet dream
Where the clichés of existence repeat

The repetition of endless differentiation
As contours along the crinkles of cognition

Forming a being becoming adrift from words
All the while imprisoned by their finitude.

But wait, beyond the dark, a darker dark arises
As an unknown multitude of nothingness

Waiting for subtraction to bring the lines
Into the verse from the gluttonous abyss

Until the poetics of knowing entwine now
The wandering lyrics lost in blackness

So that as I look down upon them all
And configure the new and old together

We might wax lyrical on the nature of life
And living, free from the burden of the body.


Such folly does not go unnoticed
As reason ossifies the nonsense

For subjectivity de-limits the potential
Of what is practical to perceive

Rather, the reality is much more mundane
And a meandering mind must be bound

To the boarders of rationality and facts
Not the nomadic romantic of the rhyme.

From above the body there can be no way
Of knowing what the markings mean

That is to say, specters must be reflected
Upon and feelings felt in actuality

For while observation enables us to see
What it is that we experience

Truth lies objectively somewhere inside
Not subjectively elsewhere entirely.

The darkness is not darkness then at all
Instead, it is the all-knowing

That which we can never know
For it is the absolute enlightenment

Of an estranged friend
Also known as the complexity of truth

Hiding no agenda and simply being
Having no idea of what it is

Inducing empirical regression from the nightmares
Lurking in the labyrinth of my mind.


So above is fine and helpful
As we all need a topology of spirit

Once in a while this circumspection
Gives clarity to our condition

So that we might understand it All
Or begin to posit a position for the many

Where we venture into the void
To find objective truths

That ripples and ruptures reality
Inducing more and still more

Knows and unknowns and so on
And so forth.

However, care must be taken
In these flights of fancy

For sitting in the philosopher’s chair
And tracking the trails of ‘freedom’

In order to discover and make and unmake
Everything into a model for your image

Results in a reduction of form
And an unnecessary overturning of ideas

Where the nothingness it total
And the new machine stagnates.

Therefore, return

To the organised body
To corporeality and to your cage

But remember to explore
And internally dwell away.

Do not o’er think you circumstance
Nor uphold nor overturn the past

Rather create yourself anew
From within and without

Sense less important
Than thinking your way

Towards a creative conclusion
That seems to be all your own.


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