...by Leon
I’d like to be more Greek than Roman
Resting under Beauty’s shade
Instead of chasing her pale shadow
Watching Prometheus fade

Yes, they do have seven standing hills
And they loom and they surround
Even I built my seven towers
Now I try to tear them down

my breath is held
not by will,
but by a state of
concentratedness.
friday finds me
as
mon/tues/wednes/
thurs/sun/satur-
days do.
the days they find me
on my wayness
to that place deep within,
so that i may look out
and see in everyOne/thing
myself looking back at me -
there will be no more need for
translating anything
for we
would have had been,
are,
and, would forever be
transcending transcience...
I do have a raincoat
But no, it’s not blue
So I don’t think I’ll be
As famous as you
My mantra seems to like to hide
And though I’ve been taught,
That’s not a sign for me to seek.

Why do I feel the need to do?
When doing does not
And trying aggravates the leak

Of thoughts that taunt the transcendent.
I ought not get caught
Up in this thinking doing streak -

If the mantra wants to vanish
Like a hungry ghost,
Let it go and it’ll do the most

Remember it does and we don’t -
We’re just playing host
To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

This is the first day I do not feel hounded,
Since I returned and the soundless sound sounded:
Deeper than deepest the depths did I descend;
Clearer than clearest, that clear when I transcend.


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