three poems


I.

a purgatory fire bright,

did cast the moon asunder,

and the solemn sun stood in awe,

as he watched the cosmic blunder.

why do the stars move in fixed ways?

maybe to not worry about their path.

but do all stars move fixed always?

there are changes of many from math…

venus peers down to earth from above

with sorrowful eyes to cast her gaze.

she knows the orbits fit like a glove

and that we travel through a hidden maze.

II. a godless purpose

as a pod-less porpoise,

a hawk grounded;

a lion by morning,

exhausted by graze.

an owl’s gaze,

during nocturnal mourn;

as a fish on land,

flopping hapless to death.

a something for nothing,

and nothing for something…

a dead fawn by road,

the flies consuming;

flight is naught for a bird,

with wings torn and broken.

at once was found something,

amidst a shroud of nothing;

the crowd is untruth, as Plato’s beard —

a bell tolling for thee, a simple “Dinge.”

III.

self-discipline is naught

but an idol, behind which

we fortify the false ego.

true life is found sans self,

through abandonment; death:

for in death there is new life.

in resurrection we truly begin

to become, and to be:

to finally live, and to finally see.

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