jikan myshkin
06-08-2008, 02:31 PM
Well someone had to be a God
I guess the dice were fixed for me
I fell down from a great height
To take my holy order
I reigned with wrath and power
I was a good God, you know
And I bit my tongue in anger
When I was revealed in my naked shame
Yet still I walked down the street
Carrying my burden and cross
(Which existed only in my mind)
For I felt unable to assent
To take on such a light burden
As the ruler of the universe
So I created hunger and famine
For my wretched mind
And fed it with the songs of poets
Who aspire to greater things than I
For I never desired power, power was thrust onto me
And my shoes are torn and broken
Yet still my heart is free
To feel this empty burden
That clogs my holy veins
And to justify all this I remember
That it was the dice, not I
That is to blame
-----------------------------------------------------------
Visions of God are but a passing craving of the mind wanting something to think about.
Meditation is simply thinking that there is nothing worth thinking about.
This is my meditation. Worthless
I have all of these ‘deeply profound’ insights that I choose to ignore and would rather not speak. Silence is bliss. Bliss is love.
Dylan said it “My love, she speaks like silence”. God is love so God is silence.
Listen
To
The
Silence
For
In
It
God
Speaks
To
You
---------------------------------------------------
Oh ancient gods of literature
Look down from your dusty pedestals
And mock my humble attempts
To put my thoughts into words
Oh shine down upon me
From these dusty shelves
Where you have been bound and forgotten,
Left the in shadows of the mind
And although the raven is quaffing
Its stilled voice cannot be heard
And although the saints still burn with the energy of slaves
They are chained and cannot move
Yet still these holy envisions clog my lowly mind
As I put this stuttering down onto paper
And cry my heart out till dawn
And dream of ilze, my angel
To whom I cannot speak
For my words have fallen
Down upon this great pedestal
Called the world
I guess the dice were fixed for me
I fell down from a great height
To take my holy order
I reigned with wrath and power
I was a good God, you know
And I bit my tongue in anger
When I was revealed in my naked shame
Yet still I walked down the street
Carrying my burden and cross
(Which existed only in my mind)
For I felt unable to assent
To take on such a light burden
As the ruler of the universe
So I created hunger and famine
For my wretched mind
And fed it with the songs of poets
Who aspire to greater things than I
For I never desired power, power was thrust onto me
And my shoes are torn and broken
Yet still my heart is free
To feel this empty burden
That clogs my holy veins
And to justify all this I remember
That it was the dice, not I
That is to blame
-----------------------------------------------------------
Visions of God are but a passing craving of the mind wanting something to think about.
Meditation is simply thinking that there is nothing worth thinking about.
This is my meditation. Worthless
I have all of these ‘deeply profound’ insights that I choose to ignore and would rather not speak. Silence is bliss. Bliss is love.
Dylan said it “My love, she speaks like silence”. God is love so God is silence.
Listen
To
The
Silence
For
In
It
God
Speaks
To
You
---------------------------------------------------
Oh ancient gods of literature
Look down from your dusty pedestals
And mock my humble attempts
To put my thoughts into words
Oh shine down upon me
From these dusty shelves
Where you have been bound and forgotten,
Left the in shadows of the mind
And although the raven is quaffing
Its stilled voice cannot be heard
And although the saints still burn with the energy of slaves
They are chained and cannot move
Yet still these holy envisions clog my lowly mind
As I put this stuttering down onto paper
And cry my heart out till dawn
And dream of ilze, my angel
To whom I cannot speak
For my words have fallen
Down upon this great pedestal
Called the world