A Visionary Quest For The Senses
No Doors Outside Will Open Until The Door On The Inside Opens First
Poem: No Doors Outside Will Open Until The Door On The Inside Opens First
A visionary quest for the senses, a cyclonic rapture that lifts you, suspended into mid-air, circumstantial belligerent threads of energy poking at you, to see if they can find a home. No, I say, I only have mileage for that which is kin to my prosperous unfoldment.
No more shall I entertain the darts and dings, whose impressions have given me too much weight, a predictable spiral that hath no end or beginning.
This is a quest, a quest that shall undress and create a new stream of polarities that exist within a gathering of like-minded electrons and protons, vibrating together in unison, reflecting a consciousness that sees the in-between.
Rejection as redirection, a platonic relationship with what I perceive to be failure, is now morphing into a sexually charged embrace. No doors outside will open until the door on the inside opens first.
Frustration alchemised into neutrality, and neutrality metamorphosised into trust, the questions become less relevant, who needs answers when you enter the door from the inside.
What I perceive to be relevant, perhaps has no relevance at all, the weight in which I have given my circumstances I realise now are unjustified, but the light is coming in anyway.
Always willing, always ready, supple, soft, caring, kind.
I used to hide in the thinly veiled illusion of death, as I used to find safe harbor in knowing that at the end of the day we all die, but I don’t feel secure in hiding within this anymore, what’s at stake isn’t a position or a reward it’s my conscious evolution and inward revolution.
I rotate to take new a position that forms into an incalculable equation that holds its own weight in gold.
A pre-determined path for me is the reminder that there is more to what I see and feel.
Who am I to fill in the dots when the mystery unravels through its own commitment to its own design.
I’m not looking to learn to play the game, as there is no game. The only game is merely an idea, and if we perpetuate this idea into form, that’s how we get played.
I hold no one responsible except for myself, for having not seen the non-answer sooner, I would have realised that the only door worth searching for, is the one on the inside.
I am taken to the next place, a new landscape, an environment soliciting my attention for more learning and growth.
A restructuring of the mind is occurring, allowing a conjoining of ineffable potentialities and idea’s to percolate under the heat of the sun, and the phosphorus that dances in the drift of the sea is reflected in the eyes of its beloved.
Perspective: This was a free flow with very little editing. I’m exploring writing without thinking and allowing whatever style that emerges to surprise me. Would love to know your thoughts if this affected you in any way.
Hugs,
~ Igor Kreyman
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Zinger. Potent flow bro
That’s great!!!! Best writings done without thinking!!!! Loved it!!!! ❤️