Too Late Words Have Become Music

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Is it too late
That we travel
Past the warnings,
That we dance
In the sky, that we
Dream in the sea?
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Is it too late
That the words
Have become music,
The music our dreams,
Dreams become clouds,
Swirling symphonies of stars?
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Is it too late
That we part the veils
To return to our sleep
And rest, sweetly reposed
In eternities
Of infinite song?
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Bear … o8.18.2014
ⓒ Bearspawprint 2014
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SITTING

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I SIT.
I TURN MY BACK 
TO MYSLEF.
I CREATE WALL,
SOLID, OPAQUE.
I DEADEN MIND. 
I AM QUIET, NOWHERE.
I TURN TO WALL,
DENSE, UNYEILDING,
CONCEIVED OF THOUGHT.
I AM WALL,
I AM NOTHING.
I SIT.
I PERCEIVE WALL.
I PERCEIVE SELF.
I PERCEIVE ANGUISH.
I PERCEIVE HOPE.
I PERCEIVE  NO SELF.
I AM NOT.
THE NOT I NO SELF PERCEIVES.
PERCEPTION IS ILLUSION.
ALL THOUGHT NOTHING,
ETERNAL NOTHING MERGING,
ILLUSION WALL NOTHING.
INWARD INTO NOWHERE,
NO ETERNITY NOTHING.
WALL IS MAYA.
SELF IS MAYA.
ANGUISH IS MAYA.
HOPE IS MAYA.
ALL ILLUSORY NOTHING.
NOTHING IS ALL.
NOWHERE.
BETWEEN THE INFINITE NANO.
ANCHORED IN THIS LIFE
BY MY BODY, BY LOVE. 
SORROW,  SHADOW  NOTHING.
ALL ONE  SWIRLING, DREAMING,
SWIMMING THROUGH NO LIGHT,
UNREAL ILLUSION THOUGHT. 
I  AM MY OWN WALL.
I DISSOLVE SELF NO WALL.
NO THOUGHT MERGED
SELF MINDLESS.
ALL MAYA.
I AM NOWHERE. 
I AM HERE.  
I AM DEAD.
I AM HOME.
I AM NOT.  
SIT. 
SITTING.
NOTHINGNESS.
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Bear … 02.19.2014

Illusion

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All hearts are broken
It is nothing
All hearts are broken
Illusion is all
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Eternal memory is now
It is nothing
Eternal memory is now
Illusion is all
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This body restricts
It is nothing
This body restricts
Illusion is all
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All inclusive grief forever
It is nothing
All inclusive grief forever
Illusion is all
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Some of us live
It is nothing
Some of us live
Illusion is all
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The never is forever
It is nothing
The never is forever
Illusion is all
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Nothing and all are the same
It is nothing
Nothing and all are the same
Illusion is all
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Beyond cognizance no meaning
It is nothing
Beyond cognizance no meaning
Illusion is all
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Bear … 02.02.2014
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UGLY

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In a fit of pique,
That lasted
From her birth
Until her death,
My mother destroyed
All of the affection,
All of the care,
All of the reminders,
Of her despair, 
That she could find.
She destroyed much else.
Those few bits of herself
And her love
That survived,
Did so by being
Unknown,
And so,
Lost to her grasp.
I was not real,
Only a representation
Of failed dreams.
I was not real,
Only an unredeemable
Wasted effort.   
When I have
Occasionally
Seen the odd surviving
Image of myself,
I am amazed. 
I was not ugly
As I remember myself, 
Long ago.
As I danced
I could dance
Beauty into being.
I would generate an
Aura of Beauty
That deceived everyone.
Anyone who saw this
Dancing illusion 
Would believe that Beauty
Existed and I could
Hide my essential
Inescapable ugliness
Within that beautiful illusion.
I danced a magic spell
To mesmerize all judgment.
I did not recognize
My Self
As my own illusion.
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Bear  01.01.2014
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