Copyright © 2009 Ernest Bloom.
Listen!
In this second, all my
Cherished alibis are stripped.
I am condemned to the life of my
Very own imagination.
Ruination! Horror! Freedom! Contempt!
Cut free in a centerless universe
In the revolution of the inner-mind,
Without values or
Incorruptible eyes.
We cement the future in the moment,
In each and every breath drawn,
In every painting and song,
In every sunset and
Orange dawn.
Choose!
Invent!
Who I am is
What I do.
Revolution must be perpetual.
Yes, freedom can be a frightening affair. A slave for many centuries finds the fresh whiff of breath contaminating somehow, a shock to the system, a collapse of established values. Habitual life in the chains may grow favorable to the chaos of freedom for the mere sake of the habit. But salvation is the Sun in the far horizon that no man ever achieves but struggles, and should struggle, to lurch by the sheer effort of the will and by the power of his freedom, onward and onward, inch by inch and mile by mile nearer to that blazing, fiery mass of beneficient warmth. Each step onward brings us farther away from the land of Winter and that's something, always something and one day, who knows, we might make it to the Moon. On the cosmic scale there may be a center but in life the only center is the one concealed deep in your conscious, awaiting always the most ardent explorers. Each man follows a different constellation and Sun but the scheme and the prize- happiness itself- is universal to all of mankind.
ReplyDeletei speak of freedom here in a deeper existential sense: for we who knowingly create our reality from moment to moment, the sense of obligation and terrible lonliness are astounding. . . .shocking. . . .preposterous. every "system" for crystallizing out freedom is necessarily a new form of tyranny, for believing that it has improved the status quo, which it has, its next step is to deliberately lower consciousness. but finally freedom exists within the narrow confines of each and every mind. all consciousness must be made to diverge infinitely, and yet the human individual seems to have been engineered like an ant in a colony to toe the party line. perpetual revolution of the mind is hope, and it is a never-ending quest. whenever we win the graile, we begin to fail.
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