Search

An Ode to The Chaos

a free verse nonsense poem about nothing and everything





For this post I’ve decided to share something a little less formal blog style and go with a more creative piece. I’ve felt inspired to share something more personal, step outside my comfort zone, face my fears, make room for growth, be vulnerable, etc. etc.. If you follow my Monday Mantras, this is an offering of proof that I too practice them. To lead by example...or as the guinea pig, your choice hehe.


This is a free verse poem, An Ode to The Chaos. There's a staccato rhythm and a lot of nonsense with the hope that the reader becomes lost in the whirl, lost in the divine madness. It is meant to mimic the exact phenomena it describes, by embodying it. This is a clear influence of Taoism. To be in harmony with The Tao, is Taoism. This poem, thus, strives to capture the ephemeral, uncapturable essence of Chaos through chaos. To express chaos by being one with it, in harmony with the chaos itself.


While writing it I realized that both the word Chaos and the word Tao are spelled with an obscure letter order, “ao,” fairly uncommon in English (Tao is a Chinese word meaning The Way, and Chaos of Greek etymology meaning abyss.) Both words are confusing to type or write because of the unique letter order, just like the underlying meaning of both words implies: confusion. In a way, that is the point of this blog. It is what I’m feeling lately and what has been coming up for me. A bit of this and that and all and none and the inherent paradoxical relationship between seeming opposites. The Nonsense. And Chaos. And Order. And the natural universal law that ultimately rules.


Anyway, would love to hear feedback and constructive criticism! Send me an email.


Hope you like…




An Ode to The Chaos


Oh Chaos

Momentum and fire spirals out of control

Truth hate lust greed

Lash about

Love harmony softness ease

Tumble too

And laundry

Piles up

And

The

Bucket

Over

Flows

And the flood left behind

Stains the floors

Of

Chaos itself

Back in

In

In

To chaos

Purifying with each

Spin

Weeding out the uneven

The forces that keep from steadiness

Like clay on a wheel

Spinning free. Chaotic. Fast.

Off center

And yet

The spinning

Is the key

The mud can never

Shape

Refine

Serve

Without this pass Through its worst fear

And then again

Into the flames

Of wrath

And purity

Of discipline

Devotion

Inner knowing

To succumb

Completely

To be

Totally

Free

Melding and viscous

Under the powerful hands

Of the potter

And both

Under the powerful hand

Of the potters wheel

And both

Under the powerful hands

Of the clock

And time

As it ticks by

Tock tock tock

Jampacked

And

Chaotic

And spiral of momentum out of control



But the calendar

And the schedule

And the meeting

And that thing

And that other

And


And


And


It never

Ands



And then


Death


And


So begins a new chaos

Of a different flavor

Like a found possession

Like a magician's fist

Like the nostalgia of a familiar face

In an unexpected place

And somehow

Order

Comfort

Home

In the chaos

Right there between running late

And gasps for air

And laundry

And fear of jumping off

As if a net

Could

Possibly

Not

Appear


Out of the strange

Illusive

Depths

Of

Esoteric


Misunderstood


Chaos



So we change our mind

And our eyes

And shift the glance to the side

And squint

Like maybe we could make sense of it

If we look from a different angle

Like

Abstract art

Like there are invisible patterns

Woven into the scene

Into the very container

Of existence

Right down to these

Silly

Heavy

Funny-shaped

Bags

We walk around in

And call “I”



And the bigger pieces we don't yet understand

Because

Our vantage point

Is

Limited

And so all the moving parts

The changes, the loss

The constants, the gain

If we could just step back

Look at it

From

A little

Higher

Or at least

Honor

The secret

Mysterious

Perfection

Of

Chaos

Accept it as something

We simply

Cannot

Predict

Or determine

Or ever really know

We just have to go on playing the game

Like the well behaved boys and girls

That they taught us to be

And sometimes

We’re rewarded

In our endless search for order

With clues

And deja vus

And new friends

And synchronicity

And the sense that

Everything is right and good

And

Exactly how it's supposed to be

It's like for

Just

One

Moment



We trust


We forget


To obsess


To worry


To try

To control


We experience The Great Tao

The Wuwei

Nirvana

The pure state of Bliss

And we recognize the gift that it is

To Be Embodied in this Lifetime


The knowing from beyond

Vague

Distant

Like the words to an old song

On the tip of your tongue

Like looking around

When you get off the bus

As if to say

“This must be the place”

And in those moments

Lost so deep inside the chaos

Without warning

That very chaos

That had its web

Sneakily ingrained

Into the flow

Like a chameleon

That blends into its surroundings

Undetectable

Elusive

Hidden

The Chaos

becomes

The Truth

The Source

The Maker

The Potter

The Potter’s Wheel

The Pile of Laundry

The Worry

The Wuwei

The Chameleon

The Search

The Fire

And

All The Things


Simultaneously


One



And all Logic is lost

And Reason gone

And knowlege useless


And then suddenly


Faith arrives


And Contentment


And Freedom


And then


Love



And then



Chaos

0 views

This Website is Made with Love