Memories are habits designed to help others survive.
Oh Mercy, that's what's really going on, at the mercy.
Kazaam, totes a line, and represents nothing so fragile
flashing its pow, no one considers the pause as eternal,
the infinite opening of space in which life finds itself.
Too involved in the status quo, signs and banners - the fare.
Those dedicated studiers of culture's creative language-
I fear for their souls, locked up in our town squares.
Someone made up a loosely collected record as history
and the rest of us were unable to resist this formal bias.
We can't make any new moves dimensionally, together,
precisely because nobody sees history, endlessly absurd.
There's a real abyss between relativity and death in life.
This is a well documented backbone of history's crest.
We call it a biography, a guest list to test with the rest,
calling attention to life on end, clowning and infantile.
Anyone can do it and everyone has - at some time.
Is there a real way to fabricate immortality this way?
Unable to know anything beyond our own eventuality
we spend our time constructing bits of fish tales, in bliss.
Oh but, why? I wouldn't cry out, except I decry this.
For those of you focusing on history in consciousness
don't forget your time is limited; make haste not to waste.
Can you resonate, echo the world's symphony today?
How else to move or progress without flowing in this,
a presence we express simply being alive with all life.
It's the rules and boundaries, rigging we're snared in.
Dec 2009, rjduberg