Final Entries

 by  shaun lawton 

 Zodiac constellation, from Latin Taurus 

bull, bullock, steer, from tauro, 

bull, Lithuanian tauras aurochs; 

Old Prussian Tauris bison; 

often said to be from steu-ro- 

be big, be strong, be sturdy.

Sanskrit sthura- thick, compact,

Avestan staora- large cattle, 

Middle Persian stor horse, draft animal, 

Gothic stiur young bull, 

Old English steor, see steer.

 

Steering the course of our lives 

until the day comes we grab on 

to the wheel, fear of hearing 

the source of this thrives until 

the way hums; bestower of resources 

haven to your kingdom having come, 

driven forth from afar and beyond 

 the commodious oases hidden 

deep within the plantation's sinuous borders. 

A sturdiness as of a draft beast. 

Taurasia, a small compact cluster of stars, 

the common denominator amid foreign 

culture's view of the constellations.  

To be ridden or guided by the hand of fate, 

that is to be led by angels and demons. 

An insinuation of parameter's stellar origins, 

The flag a black shadow cast by the head. 

Bedeviller and bejinxer, be cleverer and methinks, 

sir, to grab the bull by the horns.  

A maniacal observation from the flight's talon saurus, 

a tyrant ran over the lawn, apparently before it looked 

over and saw a wire had been planted upon 

the scene's lay of the land, a long straight strong line 

to hold the drive as we follow along for the ride, 

to stare as in to look in a direct line ahead, 

or to star as in a starring role.  

A finalist in the starriverse. 

A violinist in the stratoverse.  

Violence in the wine is fine. 

Torrid molten malleable pliable 

utility sculptures,  frozen 

into mandatory marmalade 

daiquiris.  A finite finish

from which to replenish. 

On the Shores of the Triverse

 by  shaun lawton 

    Here in this desolate parameter of planet Earth (situated in a region known across the Triverse as The Shallows) we hover adjacent to the great void.  Circumscribed by forces beyond our comprehension in which theoretical notions such as those justifying the existence of black holes (for example) only begin to suggest the deeper reality, to which the extent of our mind's ability to grasp not only remains insufficient to correlate it all, but more to the point, was never intended to do so in the first place; we, as individuals, are left with a deep personal choice on how to ease our consciousness into accepting or rejecting these notions and how they apply to our existence.  

 

     Behind and beyond Earth's moon lies a complicated conduit of orbital pathways that bend space and time until certain events in our own collective history bleed out, drop by exquisite droplet, as if pressed from a tourniquet in the eye of the storm.   When one takes into account the wisdom inherent to the poet Antonio Porchia's aphorism, "To wound the heart is to create it," one may get a better handle on this analogy.  There may not be much progress made without its equivalent toll paid in sweat, blood, and tears.  This remains part of the old wisdom which our youngest generations have yet to learn from experience.  

    

     As the navigators of temporal vessels (which we have somewhat thickly dubbed "space ships" in our literature of the fantastical) must surely come to intuit all too well, with every fold and gyration and orbital loop to cross over the great expanses, a new space opens which can be entered, while allowing anything in there to escape, this being a simple result of the law of conservation of mass. The thing about incoming mass and energy, there's always an equivalent portion that invariably gets exchanged. An electromagnetic connection does appear to exist; a quantum entanglement, if you will.  This is where quantum entanglement "at a spooky distance" becomes extremely interesting.  

    

     Here at Triverse headquarters, our new understanding of portals has significantly affected how we think of everything, now. As we have covered in the Blog of the Triverse, within the great map of The Territory it has been demonstrated how a certain dwarf planet-sized moon of our solar system's largest gas giant may serve as sort of electromagnetic and superconducive capacitor which allows for a limited travel into a posterior time field (necessarily away from The Shallows and into a deeper realm of The Territory, also referred to as the subDominion, i.e, The Worlds That Could Have Been) in which alternate states of conduction are occurring in a sublimated state of suspension.  

     In a sense, if you're reading this, you are standing before a hyperportal of the mind. As readers, we traverse a hidden territory of understanding when we are led to read transcriptions which could be said to reflect the truth; just as, conversely, when we're led to read lies or false information, that could be described as merely having been prevented from passing through certain portals, where our understanding serves as a gateway toward comprehension.  Our interpretation and discernment of certain bits of information fosters an appreciation and understanding that may lead us onward toward a capacity to factor faith into the equation, regardless of how technical and scientific our method of approach.  

     We are possessed and dispelled by the void while breathing in our planet's oxygen-rich atmosphere and regulating our heartbeats with the mass and motion of our daily activities, all of us born here on this Earth at the very quick of the latest outcropping in our reality, which despite ordinarily not being perfectly equipped to realize it fully, happens to be comprised wholly of something we can only dimly grasp as "time."  

     Here on the shores of the triverse, when we take the time to remove our egos from the equation and just stand outside at night to examine the constellations slowly sweeping by in their gradual orbital tracking as our planet spins along its trajectory around the Sun, we can actually learn to tell the difference between where our feet are firmly planted upon the soil of our world and our true being grounded in the current moment of time itself, which remains an electromagnetic property of a cosmic totality which may stay infinitely beyond our ability to really grasp, yet remains intimately here and now for us to appreciate while it sustains us. 

    Welcome to the Triverse, where faith and science dovetail seamlessly, and paradox itself becomes the mirror into which we may look for clarification or madness.  Where avenues toward damnation and salvation become so inextricably intertwined that only blindness and random chance may eventually light a pathway forward, and steadfast convictions may just as easily lead one toward a darkened and dead end. The point being simple, really. 

     When The Territory of our ultimate reality may be described in terms of time instead of space and the rocks upon which we plant our feet, then we may truly begin to consider that our minds may become free of the prison we've built up brick-by-brick, as with our own form of logic that we project onto the cosmos, effectively constructing for ourselves the greater panopticon of a reality we've chosen and remain in thrall to, over the reality of time in which we've become manifest.  I don't know what you would call this form of self entrapment, unless that's just society, which remains, after all, a collective manifestation.  

     Way out here at the outskirts of the universe as the limits of our triverse continue to unfold. How we have come to be among the few who survived all these storms remains a mystery to which we can only pay our respects.  Out here on the shores of the Triverse, who's going to take us all in our wild glory and youth? 

  

      

deadofmydreams

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