wisefool

A faceless figure stares at me from the past. Stalking me.
Yet, I cannot decide if he truly stares from the past; or from somewhere else indeed.

He seems to be waiting on me. Waiting for me to acknowledge him; to face him fearlessly.

His presence alone is a taunt.
He needs nothing else,
‘cept a faceless face;
to scare me into a state of frozen shitlessness.

I can only glance at him in my imagination; out of some peripheral mind’s eye.

A direct peer would surely mean death. . . . . but maybe. . . salvation.

For you cannot get to salvation without having gone thru Death.

Maybe that’s him; Death.

Just walking effortlessly, silently, facelessly;

starkly. . .
shrouded in a darkness,
coldy. . .
hooded in hardness
sharply. . .
teethed with shark-ness.

I wonder if I approach him. . . . go with him. . . if he will show me something.

Taunting me with

A treasure,
a treat,
a trigger.

This figure stares and waits, facelessly.

How a presence such as this,
in the mind’s mind,
can affect the external world,
proves that we are interconnected
and one
with the external reality.

What happens inside of us, happens out in the world,
sending ripples, ripples. . .r. . i.. . p. . . . p . . . . . . . . l. . . . . . . . . e. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .s

of action out into the land of reaction
of sound out into the endless sea of space
of energy out into the vacuumic void.

The release of energy,
shooting off beyond the horizon
into the netherworlds
elder-worlds,
and other-worlds;
riding the buoyant
electro-magnetic waves
of matter
to the next energy receptacle.

Off, off, and abounds
to stride and ride and thrive
off, off, and abounds
to transform
to transmit
to transceiver
to transduce and transmute
to occupy and stimulate the next corpus materii.

Devils eating devils
Deaths eating Deaths
Gods eating Gods
Moments consumed by moments.

Say hello to me when you see me again.

__________________
Say hello to my frontal lobe.