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The Cathedral of Winged Epiphany

A Collective Tribute to the Grace of the Mind

12/29/04 08:27 pm - cat_the_knife - Birth Through Dying

I am of the mind that all things tend to cycle and dance in circles. I am of the understanding that I am not alone in this thought. So.... the thought in my sky tonight is this. If all things cycle, then that would mean that eventually, at some unmarkable point, progress would have to double back on itself and become regression. Otherwise, how else would things get back to where they began in the cycle and from there cycle on?

Those of you who are part of my personal journal have probably heard me think out loud on the subjects of technology and scientific progress and what double-edged swords they really are. Modern medicine saves lives, yet through doing so, it also causes certain disease-causing genes to remain out there alive and well in the populous instead of letting them die out naturally as they would without. The internet gives us the opportunity to gain access to people and information sources and forums we wouldn't have without it, yet in many ways it causes us to lose touch more and more with the world around us if we're not careful. These are just a couple of examples... but I'm sure you get the point.

I worry though that with computers to do so much of our thinking for us, we do less and less of it for ourselves and risk growing dull as a species. Is this, however, a form of progress in itself? By progressing through to this grand scientific age are we causing ourselves to cycle back on ourselves and actually regress... closing the circle and completing the cycle? Maybe that's the natural way of things. Maybe it's destined to be that way and could be no other way. I would really love to hear your thoughts.
 

12/21/04 02:53 pm - andydarko - A Very Peculiar Dream To Have, And A Chore To Read About, No Doubt


The following actually occurred as a dream I had last night, most of what I will say actually happened in the dream, a large portion of the dream was fairly fast paced but I have studied the dream and came up with a unifying theory behind the story and decided to give each moment of weirdness its proper chance to shine; but every visual and most of the dialogue actually happened --


A very peculiar dream…Collapse )

That could mean everything or it could mean nothing at all, or it could be both.

I'm not sure if I've fully decided which, all I figured out is the general gyst of the metaphor/story, any significance is still up for debate in my head.

12/10/04 05:30 pm - dragonfly_sidhe

I LOVE nature. The cold dew on my bare feet walking outside on a summer morning. The smell of the air after a summer rainstorm. The fiery colors of the sky at sunset. The sound of leaves rustling in the breeze. The cool mist near a waterfall. My tragedy is my light and heat sensitivity. It’s physically painful to be outside most of the time. But there is that rare moment between night and day when it’s dim enough that I can look at the sky (sometimes without sunglasses!), and love the world around me. It’s at those times that I feel in touch with myself and my surroundings; I know my place in this existence. I’m torn between feeling sorry for myself that I can’t enjoy it more often – and being able to more deeply appreciate those extraordinary moments of lucidity.

Why be torn? Perhaps it's that link between humanity and divinity.

12/8/04 01:37 am - utopophobia - Regeneration

Past those fields
The domains of escapists and killers
You can close your eyes and see
Beneath the surface, we're all holding hands
Today is the day you'll see
Not tomorrow
Just close your eyes

Blood is flowing and flesh is soft
And I can sleep and laugh again
Regeneration of vitality
What was taken from me

Don't be jealous, don't be afraid
Let yourself go beyond breezy pleasure
Reach for deeply rooted joy.

This perfect air, I can feel it again
The songs of the stars, I can hear them again
Shatter, shatter into silver dust
Grind the gears away into silver dust
And let them become wings.

Let's smile
Let's regenerate

12/7/04 01:59 pm - cat_the_knife - The Name of the Shade

There is a word for that color
That one
That one fixed perfectly snugly
Between blue and green
That shade the ocean turns
When it is cold
And foggy
And seals appear to be something other
Something half human
And half sentient guardian.

That shade
That one
That you sometimes see on peacock tails
And taste in fairy tales
Like lime and ether
In Shadow Lands
Shadow Lands
Lands you know how to get to
But can never find on any map.

There is a word for that shade.
There is a name for her
The one that was never born
At least not out loud
The one that wears her robes like mummy dust
That saves her soul through blood lust
That one
That one that knows how many stars
It will ultimately take
To buy a brand new moon.

~Cross-posted in lucifers_echo..... somehow the girl that wrote this today seems to be wearing wings and horns.~

12/5/04 03:41 pm - pixyoflavendery

omg i found my new favorite poet


suppose
Life is an old man carrying flowers on his head.

young death sits in a cafe
smiling, a piece of money held between
his thumb and first finger

(i say "will he buy flowers" to you
and "Death is young
life wears velour trousers
life totters, life has a beard" i

say to you who are silent.--"Do you see
Life? he is there and here,
or that, or this
or nothing or an old man 3 thirds
asleep, on his head
flowers, always crying
to nobody something about les
roses les bluets
yes,
will He buy?
Les belles bottes--oh hear
, pas chères")

and my love slowly answered I think so. But
I think I see someone else

there is a lady, whose name is Afterwards
she is sitting beside young death, is slender;
likes flowers.

~ee cummings

12/5/04 02:20 pm - danman3142004 - Cave

I'm caught in a cave.
I see the light of the outside world,
But I'm chained to this wall.
Little do I know I'm in my body.
Viewing the outside effects, but
Never able to escape.

12/4/04 01:07 pm - danman3142004 - Sitting Game

Life is just a sitting game,
Lost to the refuge of life.
You ponder and sit.
Sit and ponder.
But you are still full of strife.
Think all you want.
Question everything,
But I give you this advice.
Take everything you ever wanted
And never look back twice.

12/4/04 01:06 pm - danman3142004 - War for Imagination

We march,
Left, right, left,
Down the crowded city streets.
Where our voices carry down
The alleys of disillusion
Where we're out in the open.

We march,
Left, right, left,
Into the oblivion called time.
On our own tune.
Armed with a beat within.

They will see us from the
Statehouse floor.
The will see us from the
Jail house door.
They will see us from the
Cities corners.
They will be stricken blind
By our rebellious yells.

On the television they speak their
"American Dream" propaganda.
"You are now who you forever
Will be."
Whatever happened to change?
Whatever happened to creativity?
This is the war for Imagination.

12/4/04 04:30 pm - she_opened - Impulse!

Life is to be lived! In episodes! In seas! In other languages! In other ways unknown to ourselves! We must be brave enough to fulfil our own natures! Forget ambition! Forget politics! Forget inadequacies! Forget work! Forget society! Forget philosophy! Forget! Forget! Forget! The truth is and always remains within ourselves! It is time to be true! It is time to run and never look back! It is time to destroy and create! It is time to imagination our own futures, our own lives, our own adventures and chase after them like wild little savages, learning, absorbing, knowing, believing..! It is time to open our heads and let light in! It is time to rush in and barge down tyranny! It is time to forget time and remember eternity! It is time to obey our rhythms and pulses! It is time to forget those who wish to destroy our will! We are music; we are rhythms; we are unknown; we are beautiful; we are everything; we are stanzas; we are myths; we are ectasy, despair, madness! Break away! Run and run and run and run and RUN into infinity!
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