Scanning old paintings - Marieta Maglas (book club recommendations TXT) 📗

Content

1.The non-existent truth.................page6
2.Blue love..............................page9
3.Our love is mixed with algae...........page11
4.Inner sense............................page13
5.Game...................................page16
6.Eternity of silence....................page18
7.Flight.................................page20
8.Common sense...........................page22
9.Insular thinking.......................page24
10.Cleopatra.............................page27
11.Aracuana chilena......................page28
12.Scanning old paintings................page30
13.Cosmic alarm..........................page32

The non-existent truth

The defined and undefined truth,
Endowed with knowledge or without knowledge,
Sometimes real or unreal,
Certainly including being and non-being....

Accepting that being is true,
Accepting the non-existence of being.....

When the absence of existence means the negation of being..

Accepting that truth did not exist,
And it would have been true that it did not exist ,at the same time...
Understanding that truth is eternal.

Imagining the idea of a non-existing world ,
Before its own existence...

Accepting the universal and immortal truth,
So interchangeable with being,
While the universal never ceases of itself...

Recognizing the truth always existing in an eternal intellect,
While the created truth is not existing....

Understanding the created truth as not existing...
Remaining truth,when the true things have been destroyed....
Or remaining truth,when all true things can be destroyed.....
Or remaining truth,when our minds can not see the truth itself....


Truth, being in sense ,always as a consequence of its act.
Truth , not being in sense because
The sense does not know the truth it truly judges,
Even it judges truly about things....

The existent and non-existent truth.......

Blue love

Give me your love,
When the blue rain is pouring down.
Just open the window of Heaven for me.
I can hear the rain whispering your name.
I can hear the whisper of the white trees,
And I can wait my falling rainbow.
Just give me your blue love.
I understand that you are mine.
And now that I have you I'm alive.
I stay near you ,touching you
And I want to stay this way forever.
Just ask me to stay
And I will never leave.
This could be for all time.
Just ask me to stay,
Again and again,
Just give me your love,
Again and again,
Just wait the blue whispering rain,
Again and again,
And let me wait my rainbow,
Again and again.
Again and again.
Again and again.
Again and again.
Again and again.

Our love is mixed with algae...

Our love is mixed with algae...
It is tasted with salt.
It is the first fruit of a great struggle for our freedom...
Our love,
sometimes like a spring breeze....
sometimes like a hurricane....

We can see the green waves crashing
And cooling the sand....

Between this old hot sand and the new salty waves
We can feel our perfect love,
We can see its ripples
And its shifting designs, left behind by the tide
And sculpted by our steps......

We can feel our angel,
That angel with injured wings,
We can hear him, still screaming,
We can see him in a sphere of air,
So well hidden.

Or maybe we are enclosed
In our sphere of reality,
Seemingly a dodecahedral geodesic sphere....

As though being hidden in psychological twilight.....


However,
We can hear the sound
That sound just like a screaming echo...

*Inner sense*

This is an illusion of time-shrinking
With empty time intervals.......
And I can feel the cosmic pulse of life shrinking in a reverse spiral.

I try to forget myself, I try to dig deeper and deeper into nothingness..
But your lost steps bring me back.
I find myself in your arms, in your bed, inside of you.

It seems to be evening, but no, the immortal mobile horizons
Immolate themselves
In the hardened surface of the shrinking blob of quartz...of the sand..

We are trying to rely their shape on our sense of sight,
Our sense of sight, that seeing-eye , crept into our vision.

Our mental vision, rooted in our mind,
Our physical vision, rooted in our astral nature.

We are trying to make them real,
But we understand that the shape can be cropped only inside of us.
We understand that the dream itself is lost, even it is nevertheless our dream,

It is lost toward the still hot quartz of the soul,
Like an imaginary horizon line of the eye the bird’s eye view,

Completely off the image....

In the offing.

And we let the time to go on......

Because


Time is an a priori form of inner sense
It makes possible the cognition of objects qua appearances,

As our friend Kant said.

Game

The game of seasons,
in which, if you had been the autumn,
I would have been the spring,
by giving you my flower
sweet chestnut-tree....

The game of universe,
in which, if you had been the earth,
I would have been your moon,
by eclipsing you forever, my dear....

The game of the earth,
in which, if you had been the mountain,
I would have been your valley,
by giving you a place to hide......

The game of thinking,
in which, if you had been the abstract,
I would have been your value of judgment,
by keeping your ideas safe....

The game of love,
in which, if you had been in love with me,
I would have been your half of sphere,
by searching you, by searching you, by searching you...

The game of the existence,
in which, if you had been in death,
I would have been your part of life,
by continuing you, by continuing you, by continuing you...

^^Eternity of silence^^

The wings, struggling
On a leaden sky,
Distorting the space and time,
Sinusoidally...

Eternity of silence,
Dividing moribundity,
Separating the flight
From the the oblivion sleep....

I need to save me from myself,
From the illusion that absorbs everything,
From the disillusionment that digest all....

Give me your warm hand.
I know, it is a man hand.
And when my fingers will touch you,
I will kiss your silence.

You give me the necessary strength,
So much desired, to continue
The great symphony of life.

+Flight

When the sacred kingfisher is flying
It is frantically flapping his wings to
The sand of the sea.

In the form of a deep curve, as the rainbow.

Its flight is mothlike with deep, steady wing beats
for flying higher and higher.
So skilled at flying
Is the sacred kingfisher
And naturally suited to the sky.

In the form of a deep curve, as the rainbow.

And from that deep curve comes the screaming,
And the bird falls
To eat its silent prey.

While its life becomes a broken winged bird
that cannot fly
any longer

**Common sense**

The matchless difference between
a falling rock and
a bell, rocked by the wind,
consists of
the sense of the motion.

The difference between you
and the whole world, by the sense of motion,
is that you can move the world away
by being so statically,
by being so obviously imprisoned
in your own memories.

Moreover, you say
that you will never demote,
by staying in order to typify
our memories
in the eternity of delays...

.

Insular thinking

I could feel the vibration of your screams in the air.
I could perceive your sight touching this vibration, by curving the time.

I could understand this vibrating touch.
I could realize the sense of curve

And the sight of the second curve, the sigmoid curve.

The air would be very much compressed, it would beget the sound..

The twinkle in your eye would be aslant
Through an opening and it would reach the ground,
By gliding rapidly along your very long, curved eyelash...

You would re-enter your own world, deep inside you,
You would become the curve in itself.

Love would become an unstable point of equilibrium...

A gray cloud would form when the air would be heated by the sun
And a sphere of incumbency would engrave your insular thinking.

I wouldn’t be able to keep that second anymore.

The second would glide between my fingers

My praying fingers.

The horizon by the sea
Would be photoengraved with corals and shells..

The eye horizon would receive this for comprehensiveness....

That would shiver the universe...

You would be awake, you would be able to be revived.....

Cleopatra

Under the mask of gold,
I see only venomous snakes
poisoning that name forever.

^^Aracuana chilena

I look into your eyes and I can see
Those wonderful Amsonia tabernaemontana
You have so much trustworthiness and confidence
And when I look deep in your eyes,
I swear I can see your soul.
I look to your soul and I see
The uplifting spirit of the sunny sky and the soothing ocean...
I can feel your deep love,
I make love with you,
You make love with me...
A little more ,harder than before,
I look into your eyes and
I see all my blue dreams come true....
I see two little birds of Aracuana
Trying to leave their blue eggs....

^^Scanning old paintings

Withered canvas in new color
Sentiments evaporating
Ancient moments jumping in no time
Washing away the colors
Cracklings of the light
Configuring the best angle
Visualizing the faces with red scarring
Understanding their riots
Catching a rerun of the silent scream
Hearing their heart beat
Envisaging their static movement
Envisaging the freedom within the florescent framework
Stoning the reality
Covering its eruptive erosions
Galvanizing the ugliness.

^^Cosmic alarm

Living in land-mark times,
Those times of uncertainty and imbalance

Emerging new paradigms
Through hearts and minds
Like flowers growing through the cracks
In the cement sidewalks
Becoming conscious of all that has been unconscious
Awaking to the beauty of our interconnectedness
Being like pieces in a cosmic puzzle
Understanding that the wisdom is in simplicity,
Those profound and untapped depths of wisdom
Understanding that fear is the primal universal human reality
Understanding the human nature
On the edge of extinction and breakthrough
Realizing the power to change the outcome
Synchronizing the nature and existence
Living within our hearts revealing themselves

Living in land-mark times,
Those times of unspeakable intensity


Looking within ourselves and awaking
To the higher and deeper dimension of our being
The Black Road or Xibalba Be
Willing our participation in these energy shifts
The day coming back to its sacred Zero point
While the world's soul is crying out to all human hearts
Coronal mass ejections shooting highly
Charging matter toward the Earth

Living in land-mark times,
Those times of uncertainty and imbalance


Nuclear bulge of the Milky Way
Rising over the solstice horizon to the southeast
Being victims of the reality and holding the reality together
Keeping the light of awareness
The field of human coherency
Riding the crest of a very big wave
Cosmic alarm clock ringing in our psyche,
The realm where energy lives and weaves
Coming the time of change to us ,
Leaving seeds for the future
Flowering our human consciousness in harmony,
That spiral of evolution.


Living in land-mark times,
Those times of unspeakable intensity


The day coming back to its Zero point
Cosmic alarm clock ringing in our psyche
Waiting to be awaken from our cosmic amnesia
Being inbetween