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Ilya Shambat

Jan 19, 2022, 6:03:46 PMJan 19
a galaxy inside a human eye
a galaxy cupescent and discerning
through powdered jeweled spark of human yearning
explodes mind's universe into a lie -

a cobweb spun of insolence and truth -
a cobweb bled of bundled hope and fear -
ensnared a soul - and tore a vision clear
ensnared a soul - and culminated youth

delight of live and innocence of true
achieve consistency of fiberoptic cable
that leaps across the Mendeleev's table
to spark the light through every me and you -

a moment springs to life and weaves to bliss
all timeless springs that were ungently shattered,
a breeze through misty caves of time and matter
awakes despondent scrutiny of Is -

a fairy plays beneath a dragon's maw
discerning eyes of logos never see her
for symbol grates and fears it would deliver
a glance that scorches essence Dull and Raw

the word begins and spins a seamy spell
and savagely remembers to deliver -
the seed sprouts forth and is a sweet don't-fear
inside the cozy darkness of don't-tell -

a who will rise at dusk and start to cry -
until a what returns to which's lair
to kill the when contained within the where
to strangle how with an ungentle why -

to smash obstruction with a clanging door
into quintessence perfectly inviting
through bursting fire and ecstatic lightning
a gunning powder of the world-what-for -

a world not of what-if but of what-could -
a world of gushing thoughts that move no turbines
as quantum haze of whirling bits determines
a passion burning and misunderstood -

a world of think that's not a world of see
where logic shatters like a crumbling mirror
that if intention only made it clearer
would flow with perfect nothingness of be -

through nearly-deads and almost-never-borns -
through fragrant clever and despondent ponder -
through shady knows and inadvertent wonder -
through words that cinge Forever on their horns -

through crystal skein enfolding fields of stars
through nebulas of heart's incessant rhythms
through incandescent scrutiny of schisms
through turning points that mark the life like scars -

each minute's spell impaled upon a crux -
each blueprint raging storm-like in the ocean
to flow through filter-mind with seamless motion
to Morph all screaming Matter into Flux:

to resurrect from Lymphic Gashing air
pluperfect life that was not fully made
to form of foam and fire unbetrayed
the Venus-seed that consummates despair

with skin that melts and sublimates the sky
with consummation of all thought and habit
with mind that is too thoughtful to inhabit
the murky inside of a changing eye:

a lightning strikes and sends the waters fuming
a lightning strikes and scatters stars awry
the cloud recoils again and heaves a sigh
that only thinks its darkness all-consuming -

but in the depth the soul resumes a spark
that coils and boils and bursts into intention
and struggles through the darkness of convention
to weave the essence toward a question mark

to maybe so that batters and deceives -
to maybe no that sits on treasure markers -
to maybe be a perfect misty darkness
impaled on aimless synergy of ifs -

on consummation of the be and through
on sounds that fly in smooth and swirling motion -
on incandescence shattering emotion -
on moments far too tattered to be true -

on moments far too gorgeous to be present -
ob moments far too potent to sit still -
on moments that spring numbness into will -
on moments that are spindling and incessant -

on moments that are gentle like a breeze
and rageful more like a volcanic fire -
on moments that mix present with inspire
and set the future sailing on high seas -

that leap across a timeless arctic shelf
to overthrow the tyranny of never -
to kill the soul's deceit and to dissever
the hideousness of thoughts that murder Self -

if but to seize such moment by its neck
and let the treacle of the sun completely
expunge the poisoned sting that indiscretely
erodes its soul into a crispy speck -

if only but to grind into a dust
all that is unalive and unforgiving
and pour it through the filters of the living
into the all-consuming grave of must -

if only but to boil into a tea
the jasmin past with cafeinated present
and let the rainbow, elegant and pleasant,
revive and consummate Infinity -

if but to scald with Restless Timeless Hands
the Inadvertent and the Undeserving
and let the passion that is always burning
instill a heart that always understands -

if but to live like constant bursting flame
like an interpid and explosive thunder
that leaps in syllogisms of restless wonder
across the restless I-am-that-I-am -

that weaves like spider through a petal heart
with filaments untender and inviting
electric nebulas of sudden lighting
that cinges souls and burst facades apart

to polarize into a now and hence
from which springs forth in Now the apparition
that brings the knowledge-seed into fruition
thus to agglomerate to Circumstance -

to tap into the cosmic of each stream
and let it gush torrentially toward solution
across the pattern bled to destitution
the throbbing voice of an abandoned dream

that steals its soul and drapes it with disease
that steals its nerves and pours inside obstruction
that hopes the grating lard of its instruction
would be enough to clatter eros into grease

still knowing of the lie that is in-built
still knowing of what underlies the reason
still knowing and aware of this treason
warping the mind forever into guilt -

still knowing of the grating skein of lies
that hides the mind inside a womb of fear
and warps the gloried new of every year
into a "why does sun still even rise"

into a yes but build on this deceiving
into a yes but me is really not
into a mind that splinters into rot
each time it bursts athena-like to living

into a don't you ever dare you to restore
the glorious passion that the heart can feel
into a don't you dare to see the real
for everyone is broken at the core -

into be gentle to retain the coils
into be silent lest you spark into a fire
the essence that is known to inspire
but is now buried under toxic soils

into a make a fear your basic center
into a make a life a theorem thereon
into a call this structure Babylon
and scatter human reason into banter

into a code that from start to end
is skein of lies desiring to dissemble
confounds the judgment and with each new amble
composes prison further of one's head

a skein that then grows thickness of a knee
and places mind upon a horn distorted
then dully bashes straight into the forehead
with a rock-headed lie of this-is-me -

to cinge these lies and spring the passion pure
to cinge injustice still and let the light
flow with a perfect essence of delight
into the minds no longer burdened with manure

to be like sunlight shining through each tree
to in each clorofill produce a prana
that consummates the nature to nirvana
that it is the given pathway into free -

weave mind through nature, leucocyte through blood,
a thread of love through every needling fear
and to arrive, magnificent and clear,
into a synthesis complete of man and God

to consummate the soul-spark into true
to bring through reason's path each Inspiration
to weave each passion into Incantation
to tear the life-lies by their roots and build Anew

to resurrect the spirit in each me
to resurrect the spirit that is all
to resurrect the core of every soul
and make it beautiful with clarity

to dare and know and never to forget
to dare and know and weave into fruition
the basic essence that through uncondition
is bled as pure and true as all beget

to lose the sanity and gain a mind
to lose the partial and gain the whole
to open doors into a human soul
and let its foul fetters fall aside

to break the border between think and can
to deconstruct the lie of every prison
to unobstruct the soul from all false reason
to shatter mannikin and resurrect the man

to take the burning fire of each me
sprawling on bins and shattered with false know
and let the passion of its essence grow
into the consummate Integrity

not cowardly move-on but move-right-through
not craven grow-up but a Becoming
not lying similitude but weave-all-coming
into a mind that to the universe is true

into mind that like a beaming sun
awakes each day and with a fire unyielding
restores the world to clarity while wielding
the sound as bright as barrel of a gun

a sound to wake a creature neath the waves
who builds a pearl of every sandspeck grating
and consummates with patience unrelenting
chaotic patterns into seamless caves -

and from the gentle and caressing sea
from their concupiscent and misty darkness
springs forth to life a loving muse that hearkens
all seems of Try into an art of Be.

Ilya Shambat
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