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For Just A Moment… A Just Moment

For just another moment, I Am Here, in this empty box.

No,  just wait a moment, I know, Yes… It’s a paradox.

Pardon the bit of chaos, I’ve just this One Single mess left.

So, Maybe I didn’t always Fully “invest”… But I Learned

How to add, dress…and Love, my Self the Best… I Can.

I’ll keep on moving on to the next middle path that’s right for me…

Until there’s nothing left to see. Yes, No… too, is another paradox.

Limitations are necessary all through-out, and in, our lifetimes…

Even four lines two write lines we can read in-between need signs,

So too, necessarily, limits need limits too, to See and Be Seen.

This Is.. How.. I Am.. Praying.. Right.. Now.. For.. You.. and.. I..

Questioning the questioning if there is Really a Me And You, and Why

I felt tied, like some turkey gotten, wild, by forgotten prey… To Try,

Shocked Awake by what mistake we may have made, again, Today,

Or might make again Tomorrow wearing, fluttering, feathers so fake.

This Is All Non-Sense… I’m Sure I can’t be sure, you’re not so sure,

If I know, I don’t know, you know the Understanding that I should.

If I could somehow paint a different picture with words Alone… I Would.

Releasing these animals of fear into the relentless winds, clouds, and rain,

Which keeps swirling around, and around, pounding the bad out of a good,

Poorly damaged brain, into an-other-ringer, and then back into the woods.

This is the tall drink of water I asked for I suppose… it just must have been.

Seas had swelled into raging flooded rivers, and the lake banks overflowed,

Heading towards its other extreme, in an avalanche of glaciers, ice, and snows.

I didn’t, and don’t know, what other Self could had delivered such blows…

But me, for I don’t know why else it was so hard to breath My Very Own Breath,

Like My Lifelong Imaginary Bird Friend Was Mocking Me… Right, To Death.

Why there’s still a line running up my left sleeve to a UFO, again, I don’t know.

Though, it’s an Object, Flying, that Still, somehow may be in some motion,

It might become Identifiable-Under Any Ones, Reasonable, subjective notion.

Who’s Soul I may be talking to you through when I chew on-in their same ear,

May be just a left-over product of my Imaginary Free Will… that spills out…

Into the dreamers imagination of The Dreaming in Souls I hold Dear.

Either such ways, most all of these days have pointed me away…

From any such fears, and towards just One.. Magic.. Endless.. LOVE.

My Love! How could any of This… or That, go on without IT!?

How could we both be neither Here nor There, not Below nor Above?!

It has me thinking all sorts of wrong, from something I may have left behind…

Even though it never seems I tried, I always want to be Gentle, Loving, and Kind…

It seems an Age-Old chip on my shoulder though, might’ve turned into a boulder,

Which blew apart into shrapnel, as confusion hits, and as bits flew off of mind.

I’ve seen these Twos game-play before, written in that One cold hearted lore.

Every Soul checks their anger in standing before, The Endless Selfless Door.

Who will run, who will hither, and (Who?) will hit the bottomless floor…

Depends on how transcendently Within the Love, of the Lovers goes in,

Through… Into… and Out of… Every-Living-Dying-Beings-Core.

My attention might have been scattered, slightly further than my sword,

Though, when our Hearts re-connected, we saw them as broken and shattered…

In a flash, striking us with what Truly mattered, in the coldest, darkest chord,

You sat to my right, as ghosts in a tear appeared by the left corner of your eye.

It stopped a time of my wanting to Live Free to die, and run or hide to be high.

A prince, or a king, Is just one mask of Light to others darkness He brings…

However, I am neither now, so it is clear, why I don’t know, how you don’t know,

Where we keep struggling, and tripping over what their dead god sings.

You can still be my magical princess-queen as long as I See, You See…

Me… Through, The Consistently Changing Dynamics in All Things,

For, we can only relate to new systems changes, by relating back to the old.

Though, if I never Really face the Creation that’s Right Here in front of me,

There would be so much Presence of your True Goddess Self I would miss,

For Now I See, a fore-shadow of Now is in no matter, always, Being This Bliss.

So, I’ll continue on echoing into this box of mine, speaking to my Self in rhyme.

I might find Me in some good Present company, or here all by Myself…

Either way, as I go down, Feel Free to take me Up on what laughter’s left…

And Right off of that dusty high shelf… with the Shellfish, not the selfish.

By ananadam

Anan Adam... Traveler, Seeker, Artist

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