Ashes

Primal/transcendental prose-poem

She who birthed me in dissociated skewed love turns to ashes. The lost beautiful boy who struggled in darkness turns to ashes. She who engaged me with open heart and quivering thighs turns to ashes. She who simulated wanting me with phasing brain turns to ashes. Facebook friends, flesh baked friends, and all the fine fucked asses turn to ashes. This abject acute loneliness turns to ashes. Inflated or repressed, you are not who you think you are turns to ashes. Visage of this mirrored staggering champion turns to ashes. Luminous lyrics and buzzing blurbs turn to ashes. Avoidance of deeper inquiry turns to ashes. Ecstatic ardent lovers turn to ashes. My volcanic lava-bursting godcock blowing us both to joyful smithereeens turns to ashes. Torch of aeons' agon turns to ashes. Your soaring praise and searing blame turn to ashes. Punk rock squirrel monkeys discovering cures for all diseases turn to ashes. All bewildering thrill-ride billions o' biped births and deaths, all heart-rending children of the earth turn to ashes. Dionysus damned turns to ashes. This lead-lidded golden mind bomb turns to ashes. I turn to ashes. The cataclysmic spinning globe turns to ashes. These searching words turn to ashes ashes ashes. Ashes.

Smoke wafting from the ashes not yet cold vanishes into subtle realms to stay distilled, sublimed, or reappear as smoke ring-enhanced ash-fuel fools for stained grasping in worlds upon worlds. 

Adamantine pure Love-Mind sky remains, awaiting this aching ash smoke heart's attunement. And so this bittersweet chalice empties unto the dawn.

Beginning yet again, the original undying Fire of Only Being will ever have its Way.

Reviews

[KAOlmsted]

About half way through I found myself spitting the word "Ashes" with a bit of a sneer on my face and my fists clenched in my lap. The last three stanzas were a bit gratuitous, in my opinion, but I enjoyed them just the same. It was sort of like going from this diatribe that fully engaged me to all of a sudden hearing the end-credits music and blinking in the lights that just came on in the theater and wondering...what? Is it over? That is to say, I enjoyed the ending, but the movie was too short (for me...greedy kimmer) ;-) The things you have turning to ashes up in the main body of the piece were far more interesting to me than the denouement, which, frankly, didn't fit...meh...just my silly little opinion ;-) I thoroughly enjoyed (most of) this poem, and I sincerely thank you for sharing it with us.

-kimmer

[Pax Analog]

It's a literal process of life & death in form, perpetually renewed by the Formless. Real Consciousness Itself vis-a-vis karmic time lines.

[KAOlmsted]

Yeah, I totally got the premise...I was probably just distracted by your volcanic lava-bursting godcock blowing us both to joyful smithereeens ;-)

[Pax Analog]

Hahaha! -- o that's lovely! Never underestimate the power of deep psychic engagement! And post-smithereens is a grand expansive time-free clarity.

[ZeeArsonist]

I really enjoyed this read. The repetition of ashes.ashes.ashes. Each use felt more sharp. This composition has a ferocious charge. Uncouth, raw, skinless truth. Its pieces like this that keeps me searching for good poetry reads in this place. Well done.

[Pax Analog]

Thank you! And the shift from the gross infernal to the subtle realm is not about consolation, but about a literal cycle of conscious existence. Just a note for all to consider. Cheerz!

[Clayton Bardwell]

Yeah, but before all that it was fun, right?

[DrD]

Superb symmatry spelled out with a sensual rhythm that I found delightful.

[ms. barrie]

all i can say, is that while reading this, i fell in love with it. Very poignant, thought provoking, wise. i agree, i also like the repetition of "ashes to ashes". This is written with eloquence, speaking of consquences of thoughtless actions, even lack thereof any action, can render one drowning in disillusion, yet, one dusts itself off from the ashes, eventually moving on, still, the memories linger in hearts. incredible write. this is being put atop my bookshelf, so i could re visit it. thanks for sharing

[Pax Analog]

Thanks for your fine words! Ultimately, this is about the fact mortality itself does not add up -- the highlights are erased by disintegration of form. However, the perennial wisdom is we are not who we think we are, our conclusions are half-baked to the extent they leave out the saving grace of transcendence, the epiphanous discovery that reality is not governed by form, but by Consciousness.

[Nautili]

Ashes, ashes we all fall down."
i liked the repetition....it drove the point home with a flourish of force. We are made from ashes, we return to ashes, and all we can do in between is learn to love....at least, that is my take on life. And a whole lifetime, never quite matures us fully in that department-"to love our neighbor as ourselves.'
and I took the last line as a reference to God, "a consuming fire"...which mgiht just be my interpretation, but I like that one. Because, in my mind, He is central to a life of love....for love is of God.

[Pax Analog]

Great review, thank you! What you say is true, & I'd like to add it's not only Love that's the bottom line, but Consciousness as the Only Reality. I am always obliquely filtering life experiences through the lens of Zen, Tao, Advaita Vedanta, Nonduality. This is to consistently embrace both God is Love & God is the deep root identity of all beings -- what the Sages know.

[Nautili]

I do not have much of a background regarding what you speak of, but i do think of myself as a mystic, and I do agree that in order to achieve a higher consciousness, you must experience some pain in your life and allowed it to teach you gentleness, humility, and compassion.

[Pax Analog]

Beautiful & true. And when we concurrently refine our critical faculties unwaveringly, we realize the true norm of Buddha-Mind. ;-)

[John]

A rhetorical tour de force that overwhelms on first reading. The response is to say Too Much Too Much. The poem is too prolix and insistent.. Yet it cannot be pushed aside. A second reading reveals the craft and artistry, which acknowledges that there isn't a superfluous word in the poem's first passage. The list of things that will turn to ash seems inexhaustible, but you wouldn't want to remove a single item. The second movement begins the process of renewal which culminates in the evocation of the undying Fire of Only Being and the continuation of the cycle of life and death.

[Pax Analog]

Lucid words, John, thank you. I am always experimenting w/the consideration of how what the Buddha knew relates to my experience & improvisational fancy. And I sincerely desire all poets to understand how important grasping Nonduality vis-a-vis dualism is. Cheerz!

[John]

I see.

[John]

A rhetorical tour de force that overwhelms on first reading. The response is to say Too Much Too Much. The poem is too prolix and insistent.. Yet it cannot be pushed aside. A second reading reveals the craft and artistry, which acknowledges that there isn't a superfluous word in the first passage. The list of things that will turn to ash seems inexhaustible, but you wouldn't want to remove a single item. It concludes in time with the world turning to ash. The second movement begins the process of renewal which culminates in the evocation of the undying Fire of Only Being and the continuation of the cycle of life and death.

[Neva Flores Smith - Cha..]

so true...........well done

[emmajoy]

If everything becomes ashes then life ceases to exist? But surely even out there and there in space where zibbits search for a survival, there's a force so powerful that a mighty tsunami of heat will erupt into life over and over again .. it's that or.. nothing. We'll never know, will we!

Your words burn for sure, you always numb what few senses i have, mainly because I don't understand but- i try!

[Pax Analog]

Eternal Life moves through forms, which dissolve back into that formless Conscious Mystery. It's all about tilting more toward the intuitive Source than the familiar transience we over-identify with. "Eternity is in love with the productions of time" wrote your countryman William Blake. The ashes emphasis was driven home by my mother's sudden demise & cremation. Spirit Fire remains immortal & is the beautiful Grace to match our poignant grit. Thanks so much for your words, love.

[emmajoy]

I feel guilty about leaving the 'featured' review because my comment is somewhat lacking in undestanding, more i left my own thoughts. Apologies.

[Pax Analog]

No worries, love. Writing should merely catalyze more writing. There's no final understanding, just an intriguing process. I love your feedback.