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.

[...]

Pax, I can't believe I haven't visited you until now! This is mind fuel :) I agree that everything is ashes, but only here! Your writing is profoundly stimulating, sir :) So good to sample your art. I shall return!

[Pax Analog]

Mind fuel's good. ;-) Poetry & poetics are best when they catalyze more poetry & poetics. Thanks!

[Kimberly "Melody" Carne..]

I loved this

[shultzfeather]

caught up in it, a big firing

[MOON]

yes we live and die everything eventually ashes, get the sense too of how fleeting everything is nothing lasts. Poignant write.

Yes, so true, those who rebirth time after time, are still searching the "divine" religious or not, that word means both sides. Even after a thousand rebirth some plumbum, or Pb is an temptation for fools... yes... But they shall be as light as a feather when they are understanding your essence, and truly amazing ending ... ;)

Eye-opener! loved it!

E.L.

[Ruth]

I remember when I read this, how moving it was and still is! Everything birthed shall see the demise and rebirth of that held dear...inevitability is sure a ride but you always manage to include hope in a universal manner into that message xoxo

[Pax Analog]

Review's sound, darlin', but it isn't "hope" that remains. Innate God-Consciousness remains. And that is who we are when we discern it. Till then, quasi-amnesiac recycling. . .;-)

[Ruth]

Yup...agree...but hope can be found in that consciousness :) For we just are and if we just are, we have nothing to fear....mwah!

[Pax Analog]

Right on w/the second sentence -- but again, I must insist: it ain't about hope. It's about the adamantine insight that blows away the hope/hopeless crutch. Stickler, me -- but that's why you love me! ;-)

[Ruth]

lol Yup ♥

[Poetic Beauty]

Many things on life turn to ashes if we arwnt mindful we can lose a great deal of things. There is a lot of true and.bluntness in this piece.

[Jazmen]

As I read this I felt the rhythm I was hoping it would continue with, I heard it all in my head before I read it and as I kept reading, keeping satisfied, your words and your ideas and even your modern twists were very compelling. I honestly am trying to ignore that before I even read the second sentence I had "ashes ashes ashes" in my head. low and behold, I found you ended the [large] stanza with the very thing (plus one) I just had to say that.. cuz it is kind of remarkable, I think. Especially with the overall message or 'point' of all these things turning to ashes. "Beginning yet again, the original undying Fire of Only Being will ever have its Way" is so raw and it's all so personal and ultimately spiritual; Ashes is a cleansing read. I really enjoy reading your work.

[Muse]

interesting....it made me think of one thing for some odd reason. The saying that we were made from the dust and dirt of this earth....so like cremation....our bodies...our dreams...our friends...our desires...our inventions...all of this will someday disintegrate. Thus; letting the cycle begin all over again......