Wet leaves swim in the breeze;
everything is as it is, yet
nothing is ever how it seems:
As green falls to greet deep substance,
far above the breathing trees,
birds oscillate through waves unseen;
insects teem, mammals dream
& Gaia abounds with
collective recollections echoing
through space & time.
Ceaseless interaction,
constant inconstancy & change;
the finitude that births infinity;
all that is beyond me, just as
there is an outer limit to all things,
beyond which others limits persist:
the world consists of what
does & does not exist.
* Ludwig Wittgenstein
Mysticism
Alive
Here we’re
alive.
Here we are as we love & complain,
orgasm & menstruate;
vomit & piss & waste our hate
on the smallest of things.
Here we are
with or without
mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters;
comrades or enemies;
consumers or revolutionaries*,
attack or defence,
for or against:
reasons so solid yet insubstantial
at the same time.
An accident upon infinite accidents,
so improbable
as to constitute a miracle,
here we’re alive
to the glorious light:
your life is not a cage, a stage
or a performance,
it’s just an accident.
You’re alive, & one day you will die
So…laugh until we burst**?
*Those Anarcho Punks Are Mysterious – Against Me!
**Idioteque – Radiohead
Words for Ghosts 