(A convivial wandering through Existential and Absurdist delusions)

 

Moments in time are snapshots of cosmic grandeur stored in the corridors of our past. If we dare to pace the hallways with our ghosts we need be prepared for the unexpected be it wraith, phantom, or merely a shadow. The hope is of course that time itself will hold still and allow us to share a treasured vision of comfort through the crevice of our memories. But maybe you think some of those stored memories are from the moments of a previous life. Some of your memories seem like they’re not yours at all. Far too often what becomes revealed when we tread too deep into philosophies of life and death down our corridors of reflection an unclear picture leaves us more confused than content. Ghosts talk in a strange language.

 

Went to see the blind man

Upon the mountains crest

Came across no man of vision

Just a buzzard at his nest

Disdainful perched and grinning

Bird of opportunity and prey

Screeched a baneful warning

Told me to walk the fuck away

Although the Buzzard scared me

Sent the blood up to my head

I stared right down his beak

And this is what I said

I came here in search of my moments

Scraps of time which are mine to own

It’s the sage that I thought would have them

Instead some buzzard sits at his throne

This made my buzzard angry

To be spoken to in verse

He scoffed at me disdainfully

As though I were perverse

But I came to see the wise one

The sighted blind old sage

You shouldn’t be free to mock me

With one foot stuck in your cage

At that very moment The Blind Man stepped out from a shadow

Its not with eyes you see your soul

Nor is it with ears you hear your song

If you think those moments are yours alone

My son you’ve got it wrong

You came to ask some questions

On life and what comes next

But that not why you’ve really come here

With you brain all pumped and flexed

So tell me then why you have come

I took a toke and pondered before I replied

Why do I stand here all alone

In a world of ashes and dust

That grows nothing but rain

Leaving everything in rust

Then I let myself speak free of silly verse

Why do I sometimes I feel sad

Yet cant remember why

Tears well in my eyes without reason

I wonder why do I cry

Remembering moments that don’t belong to me

Is it past me’s who make me sigh

Or have I simply forgotten

Are the me’s who live inside before

The ones who had to die

So I could be who I am

Are they the reason I cry

In way of firm reply the Blind Man laughed

Are you high?!

What you feel is normal

That’s your compassion through time

You really have no clue why you came

The mystery you seek is what is time

The greatest mystery of forever

Time is a complex set of gears all turning at the same time

Those moments you claim are just a small part

And everyone’s times overlap and intersect

Increments of distress or patches of pleasure

Your choice

But whatever you do don’t let time pass you by

While you stare and wonder why

Accept and live

Remember

Make the best of all you have

You won’t get it back because time cannot be given back

Nor can it be owned

It doesn’t belong to any of you

 

 

 

 

My thoughts began to course through me

Leaving understanding in my wake

Somt things we should never know

Just appreciate

Because all we will leave behind

Is moments for the ones we love

And we should make those moments real

 

The Blind man called to the Buzzard it’s time to go

The Buzzard winked at me before he left

Be careful of the truths you seek

Some truths come straight from Hell

Both of us can stab you with your very moments

Life is wheel which never stops

Then he laughed and sang me a verse

“The wheel is turning and it won’t slow down

You can’t let go and you can’t hold on

You can’t go back and you can’t stand still

If the buzzard don’t get you then the blind man will”**

The Blind man laughed as the Buzzard flew away and motioned me to look in his eyes. “ You don’t need these to see truths you need only yourself. You say you are searching for your moments but no one owns their moments they are meant to come and go. Every moment is shared and becomes the past mere seconds after they happen. What you seek is the purpose of your moments and your answer to past lives. Reincarnation is a punishment my son. Forced to repeat over and over isn’t some grand gesture on the Karmic Wheel, its what some theologians would call limbo. Your moments are meant to be enjoyed so if you missed the enjoyment you are doomed to repeat it until you learn to appreciate the moment. When that happens, you will shed your eyes as the will no longer be necessary. All I’m saying my son is….Stop searching for what’s not there because while your searching those moments are passing you by.”

Disclaimer… The trippyness of this text is a combination of a philosophical self search combined with some misheard lyrics.** Robert Hinter tune The Wheel performed by Jerry Garcia** Upon hearing this song under the influence of mind altering enhancements my peyote challenged ears misheard “If the buzzard don’t get you then the blind man will” Instead of thunder and lighting. At the time I never questioned the validity of such Dr Seuss like lyrics but accepted that they made sense in some Pablo Picasso sort of way. Once hearing the song under less foggy circumstances my first thought was well shit, that would make a good line anyway. It took me over 30 years to work in to a story. Peace