bound beauty

bound beauty

the white shadow casts long, 
raging against the night.
jagged lines define the divide,
as awe shoots through the spine.

ideas lost to entropy,
like reflecting faces in the river, 
unspoken answers from those born marked,
where even eyesome looks fall apart.

as ethereal as floating spider webs
blown from trees, drifting in the sun.
scattered particles of dusty theories,
just waiting to be found- one.

carrying space and time
upon our backs, like turtles carry shells.
a biocentric unity where the observer
is always in a dance with the observed,
running from the hare.

life creates the universe. perhaps,
a dream inside a greater consciousness.
running a thought experiment on p-zombies,
understanding everything about color,
having never set eyes on blue skies.

the qualia freak embraces phantom pangs, 
a side effect with conscious veto.
hands worked the mud and clay,
built for pleasure, lay at my feet golem, 
no mouth to scream like r.u.r. a dream? 

no a priori reason exists
for a grand theory of everything kingdom.
no matter, it is written in equations,
a string on recurring golden loop waving in a torus.
animal, simply listen and you will find the wisdom. 

bound beauty hanging from the red string, swinging past the three,
as the white shadow finally meets the alphabetic spinners. 
spin, measure, cut, but jump from tree of life to tree.
for it is those that climb the seams of paradox that are truth winners...