Protest

Protest

A Poem by Q'ANIL
"

We have created a society of imitators

"
Previous Version
This is a previous version of Protest.



We hear overstated metaphors

throughout life,

and we tend to find ourselves listening

to such descriptions.

We are inclined to live out life believing

the society’s beliefs and stated laws

for we’ve listened and grown with conscience,

we’ve become conditioned

by the containment of ludicrous empty eyes

that speak to us purely

through lies that are meaningless.

           

We hold on, gripping tightly,

clutching to everything that are only the spoken lies

of the undying mind.

 

It is the truth that must be seen

in order for you to awaken;

it is the truth that must be seen

in order to be totally taken.

           

All that’s hovering is the mind,

but while you allow it freedom to hover,

the heart and your own awareness weakens,

and the wine of life,

            a pale purple essence

is never, and can never be gained

while striving to compete

in the society of competition.  

           

We are severely nomadic in the pits of life

where we create our own premature deaths

instead of rising above our thought patterns

            to witness

that life is not the pits.

 

We go on hissing, gasping, toiling for breath

while within these pits, we wait,

and all that is created

is an eye to the end,

and this becomes the unnatural collapse of us.

 

By totally living each moment,

by living life moment-to-moment,

we are able to experience the harmony

in every part of the surrounding evidence.

 

We are able to feel

the extraordinary air of which is existence.

           

The perfume of life is not offered

without the hard work of silencing the mind,

and the pale purple essence

            that is the wine of life

will never be tasted

if you continually travel your path of life

and see it as a pit of destruction.

 

All the paradise surrounding becomes

            lost and wasted

in the moment you should be living,

the whole of existence, of yourself, is left

            spent and withered

without witnessing the truth

that all that is real is eternal

and that all the pain you are feeling

            in this moment

is nothing but the illusion you’ve created.

© 2011 Q'ANIL




Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

6 Views
Added on January 28, 2011
Last Updated on January 28, 2011
Tags: poem, poetry, mind, existence, society, beliefs, laws

Author

Q'ANIL
Q'ANIL

Australia



About
"It is not that we are seeking answers to questions, it is that we are seeking an answer to our being" - OSHO "December 21, 2012, will NOT be the end of the world or the end of humanity. In fact, i.. more..

Writing
Pothole Pothole

A Poem by Q'ANIL


Dogma Dogma

A Poem by Q'ANIL