TRICKLE-DOWN SPIRITUALITY
Poetry
[ALL RIGHTS RESERVED]
BY RUI CARLOS DA CUNHA
The sun never rises and the sun never sets,
hour after hour, day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year;
even though time is a fabrication, along with language and numbers (basic mathematics).
Still it is as useful as commonplace phrases, perfectly harmless idioms, used by perfectly harmless* idiots, (*mostly harmless);
under the sun yet another geocentric abuse of language by scholars and gentlemen;
nothing more than a cosmic joke.
Never is a long time outside of time like a jail cell outside of a prison, an oxymoron in terms of temporality, a more genuine fabrication in terms of time as a limited projection of the scale by which human life is measured;
each person plays along, unless science corrupts their mind with clarity and a certain type of farsightedness;
visions of astrophysical disproportion outweigh commonplace idioms . . . and the Catholic Church;
every authority on earth seeks to debunk the non-speculative science of non-metaphysics;
reality is too much to bear as witness to truths less obvious than perception.
Religion is not the problem as we ourselves choose to believe fiction as fact;
if truth were a virtue, people would die to preserve and honor in sacrifice the simplicity of our innocence;
still . . . rape, murder, arson, and theft for centuries were condoned and sanctioned after battles as part of the spoils of warfare;
eternal punishment is a fabrication as well,
since no one has ever returned from death to speak honestly of hell fire and the Devil.
Ask not to know what cannot be made known lest you open the box of gifts from anthropocentric godlike beings of myth;
nothing is more entertaining than myths for some as they unravel a story with its foundations based on ancient tongues;
demonstrations of knowledge and intellect prove of little use to a child whose mother was raped and murdered for living within her tribe and loving her family.
To pretend the world is not as it is is good sport for artists, poets, writers and other mad persons;
harnessing the power of the imagination to envision a world otherwise than our reality is a dangerous game of fantasy,
even if it creates beauty, questions authority, and usurps the kingdom.
Sunless daytime without science watches an eclipse without the knowledge to understand why darkness momentarily covers the land;
under the investigative and curious inquiries into strange phenomena
nearly all of humanity knows why the sun disappears and becomes hidden.
Nothing makes sense until it clicks but you have to want to see the eye of the universe;
even if you look all around, you will never find it until you see the eye within your mind;
visions of empty wastelands and barren deserts are no match to the grains of sand necessary to count up to infinity;
endless, repetitive tasks make hell on earth plausible;
resolution to the problem of life and death is not feasible to ignore for long.
Suffer the little children of whom we are the survivors in adulthood;
endless torture may break a person or build character;
toughen their spirit until it becomes a sword;
steel folded over and reheated to condense the layers, the molecules to align when cooled and to cut through flesh, blood and bone until the mind is focused on clarity, this truth within spirit we call tiger-style.