Used Vessels

Skipping through hurdles of the life.. everyone wants a piece, of our action.. seems we’re paying a toll to survive.. slaves of toil.. not of soul or soil.. but to all outside us, mostly.. pay to survive, their menus limit tasted and light.. busy at the days, struggling to make ends meet.. focused on their chores, not the work.. hard to break this spell.. but a spell it is, as some were cast into..

spells, seems hard to break.. if attached to such thoughts passing by.. stay observing.. so many monuments built in its honor.. many priests and congregations in its wake.. seeing around, its consciousness bound.. to unravel this, labyrinth.. epic.. conscious clouding its own consciousness, too many layers for this trip…

turning attention to destination.. users, abusers, psychic, back in the mix.. re legion.. making more sense in now.. re lies Ion.. tune it in.. real eye gene in o.. larger scales now.. cree a nation… crete nation… sighs if observing now.. manipulations, above the predators.. before their bows… gnosis’ archon, if label must come within its naming.. but still, too dim a view.. larger, beyond this ones’ now… but it is in no Ones best interest, except recreating perceptions, realities.. a coitus factory, per say.. spiders maybe, of a One killing nature.. after bigger pictures.. drawing in Ones to their oneness… precludes of a new source.. cut off from their prime…

is there nothing that may be done, to change the course of one becoming the zombie, dead man walking, used and abused by laws and rights taken away… to be, with nothing to do with it’s making, trying to pre-empt its maintaining, at least by this ones’ hand.. not of this mans’ kind or inhumanity, transforms into a desensitized vessel, just trying to live and let… hopes, dreams and beliefs removed, washes ashore bringing with it additional discord.. detest, for the human races, angels, demons or gods.. fed with all of it, now vomiting up its contents… not of me, we, or spiritual nature, as far as this ones eye may see…

All makings, creations of previous hearts and ached, scribbled and etched inside, to be released later, not understanding the direct experienced that went along for the ride in its original teachings… sacrilege, to the new testaments transforming the old schooled ways of keeping it all in.. letting out insecurities to consume something else, reflects letting go to whatever is held within your beliefs and desires, when keeping your mind busy with the nature of your life’s work and its journey, not the road conditioning… building and maintaining the conditioning indoctrinations of previous institutional thinkers, proving beliefs, rather than believing proofs.. put into practice, preaches, theories and evolution.. reality, its revolution, always warring with itself, and quoting scriptures without knowing their original natures, and their experiences and conditions.. solely what we may ascertain from scribers and religions’ striving to survive its own congregational mass…

awol, in the ranks, there’s a mad man about, and he’s closer than you think.. not a deserter, but always to come back to stand the post.. until requiring a holiday from the drill.. leaving all behind, to let loose, then returning to the scene of the crime, content to go back, and stand where before left.. error in the mining of the processing, settling to be caged, then escaping only to return to its original caging.. what madness this, when three feet behind, looking at the entirety of the entity, containing itself, within its own conditioning… used, by self and others, some not knowing it.. others, knowing it, all too well.. sealing the well, and making it a holder, not a refresher, of life-giving waters….

how Deep is your love, and to what degree will it be given, received or broken… where does the vessel and spirit meet, and depart.. going to depths, to understanding the sinking feelings and why they don’t stay on top… nothing, of physical matter may stay within the realities you find yourself upon, only ones’ self may go in.. to plant, reap or sow convictions made under duress, stress or happiness.. so cuddle all before they go down for the count, downed for the duration and restriction, awaiting its next calling from above… staying below, resting where you left it, feelings start to grow from the next incarceration… playing with Sol, to keep it hidden and in the dark, from coming out and replacing conditions placed on its staying.. love grows, where it dwells and swells, braking on foreign and domestic shores when seen or touched, drawn out, forgiving or warmed by its twin, enflamed and enraged by its giving…
different hue’s, of differing degrees of reconciliation, keys its understanding.. omnipresent, always waiting for a hug or kind word to raise the warming.. attraction, to similar colorings, changing hues when presented polar positions, transforming its redness to blue, darkness, and cut-offs from where its coming from… opposing views and news tamp down the airy lightness to darker, more solid unlikeliness.. appears similar to a spirit, stuck in a vessel, caged by conditions and beliefs, flying higher when set free of all restrictions and downers.. growing in size and strength when noticing its reflections in the mirrors of the world… beauty, is the beholder, an awestruck conscious that recognizes and relates to what is observed, taking, and giving of what’s felt…

 

 

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