The Matrix

Inside the Matrix

I think I used up all my chances

For loving this life

Or light-hearted romances

I keep on choosing the red pill

Fantasies dance with me

My imagination runs with me

Occasionally

But I have come to believe

That what is Sold in this world

Is just not meant for me

I can’t live in Reality

(said sarcastically)

The way they do

All blindly

Though, I know it’s a ruse to call

It real, ‘cause reality’s not kindly

Eyes wide shut to The All that lives

To exist instead in the Matrix of illusion

A fusion of merely meager things

They are capable of seeing

I see the Unseen

Constantly

My heart splits and splits again

They ask me things I can’t ever answer

Because one can’t Explain the Deep Mysteries

Then, when I attempt, they think, “She’s crazy…she’s inflated.”

Full of myself, perhaps, or maybe inebriated

But I speak My Truth whether I’m sober or not

While they’re held hostage by illogical thought

Dismissing me away

Even as unconsciously they are asking me just What It Takes

But they don’t really wanna know just

What It Fucking Takes

I must resist the temptation to tell them

The answers they don’t really seek

I must toss my need to try and connect

Into the Humble back seat

You can’t sell Soul

When they live to forget

When they’re just not ready

Or it’s too deep to get

So I walk my journey alone

Yes, alone

My fantasies only an escape from my home

A home lived in Shadows

I row my small boat

Though my mind sometimes serves me

I eat

Alone

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What Cannot Be Understood

Who are we to take the seat of Judge

When the Universe itself does not?

Who are we to cut down our own highest ideals

By ripping apart the beliefs and values of our fellows?

The Circle of Life does not start at birth and end at death.

For a circle, if you will recall, has no points at all.

Our limited human view makes us pick a moment on the wheel:

We call it Birth;

We call it Beginning.

We break down the unimaginable, the unknowable,

The Mysterious –

Into small, digestible, human fragments of False Wisdom

That claim we can know something which we –

Quite simply,

Cannot.

Consciousness gives us only so much.

Science, Psychology –

Gifts that offer brief flashes of Knowing.

And for these we are grateful.

But we must not mistake gratitude as some Fixed Truth.

All That Is,

Outside of those knowable points –

Is The Unconscious.

It is The Great Awe that is

Every.

Other.

Unseen.

Point.

And so, we may seek to Know

But may we remember, on our journey,

To lay down our judgements of ourselves.

This first.

And in ending that internal war,

We will find peace with our neighbor –

And Freedom instead of Fear

In the beautiful, dark Arms of

What Cannot Be

Understood.