spiritual suffering

what of this filth?
what of this monster,
this crazed incompetent Know.
something about "a million miles
away" truly makes me weep.
truly,
the distance
fascinates me.
i believe in my soul.
i believe i keep myself away
from Know
to stay here.

I mean to say a lot of things
but i've taken to silence.

there are expressions all around me-these
gorgeous things
i hope
to in a lifetime
of lifetimes
achieve.

why is there SO MUCH filth?
is there wisdom in it?

I light a cigarette in contemplation.
I created myself
to find out.

I created myself eternally lost
to keep on finding out.

hello, discovery.
so, this is your face.

this is your expressionless face.

in my many lives
i have not uncovered.
i have died each time
a child.
when will age finally reach me?
must i sit in meditation
for enlightenment?

these questions are the filth.

there is a heavy existence
i must undertake.
there is a world to see.
perhaps,
if i see it all
in this one life
there will be no need
to have another.

Green Earth,
i'd like to stripe you of my soul.
i'd like you to want loneliness
and to have not one roaming being
left at roam.
Green Earth,
in my worship
i do adore you.
i'd like you to be less humanly.
i'd like to be the first
to never
come back.

i'd like very much for you to simply be green.

but how?
imagining myself as a mother
i would choose always
the company of my reckless children.
of my children beating each other,
of them inventing foolish things
of them doing nothing
at all.
i would choose beyond doubt
to remain in filth, and
to give filth further
to my offspring.
to lend them the quality of Lost,
a mind without knowledge
but a mind with
massive potential.
i would love them, dearly,
for trying to escape themselves.

this must be the way of earth.

i understand that pain is existence,
and that by creation, pain is only spread.

i will be a mother one day.
the pain i will bear to birth
will be the suffering left
for my children
to survive.