Those who speak all the damned time and cannot shut up
Can know only their own conversations because
They can’t hear anything anyone has to say.
And the same goes for thinking too much. We betray
The Unspeakable World when we’re caught in the jaws
Of the beast of chit-chatter who holds a dark cup.
Stop and listen to people once in a kind while.
What they have to say complements conversation
As in back and forth dialog. As for thinking,
The subvocal orator, when silenced, will bring
A deeper awareness of life and how it’s run.
Constant symbols and imagery is not its style.
The moment you stop thinking, you’ll be in contact
With a world without texture and all that makes sense
To the bodily senses. No sight, sound, or smell
Or the names we have given to all things can dwell
In the presence of beingness. Insight immense
Can be had for the asking. This is a known fact.
With a handful of colors we’re blind as the bat.
With a brief scale of notes, deaf we might as well be
Yet the world of no thoughtform remains infinite
Both in color and sound, and it feels only right
To indulge The Unspeakable World frequently.
Stopping fixing conceptions, I shall not fall flat.
