THE BIT INSIDE

The bit inside
The furnace where
my dynamo sparks off
The fulcrum where
polarities sit
The seed, the core, the crucible

Who said it is me
Who said it is why, or where
This beingness begins, began, begot
Who said?
I plot the nuclear core
and freeze it in no-time
I get out my micro-speculation kit
And zoom in.
And what do I find but something laughing at me
a cosmic eye at the other end of mine
peering in, peering out
a distorting mirage, mirroring.
Betake ye off to the wilderness!
focus on the mindless umbilicus!
Where it comes from, goes to?
What is the point of a nothing in-between?
I swallow the tale of my tail and complete the pointlessness
the cycle, encircling, the macro and micro
exploded into and out of the Void.

Nirvana unmanifest.
Oneness.
Phenomena nothing but a joke with no-one.

O!
Mind is a juggler, a clown, a crook
It jiggles about on the edges of this or that
Upside or downside, in or out
it fiddles and frets at perspective and size
and then fixes the equation
to fit
what it
perceives, conceives, deceives.
This is real. That is God-stuff. This is no-go-zone
The non-place of the un-mind.
My take on whatsit-all-for.