And the stoic spoke to the cynic…: A poem 

We can’t be widowed from existence if we seek no desire 

That earth still lives and still owns its crystal flaming fire 

You can see that we turned down wanting for wanting 

the flame of a presence in absolute unrandomness 

of inventing our own Schrodinger’s box without the  

blackbox of all conventional behaviouralism. And 

every quark that forms its multidimensional state 

abounds without the gravity of present reality 

But is no state of perplexity in the midst of a  

confounding propaganda. We have no lies in astuteness, 

cynical as we are, and stoic and austere. Not resigned; 

but in acceptance of virtue and its untrammelled virtuosity. That it should 

run in our veins like a Godhood borrowed from God; 

without his vocal teaching but silent mentoring; but feeling  

the breath in his expanse, in a convocation of vocation; 

and in the identity of his smallness. We are just makers of  

our own freedom within the eggshell of a contraption. 

Treachery, then, is meaningless, is impotent, is febrile, rendered sterile! 

What does it matter, then, they take the goodies of the material? 

when their victories are just a loss of their soul! And, then, they are eternally damned! 

Our victory is in the womb of finding happiness and freedom 

without the mouth and belly of greed! 

Published by montecyril

Hi, I am Monte Cyril Rodrigues and live in Melbourne, Australia. I am a retired journalist. I have been diagnosed with schizophrenia. I've had voices and visions all my life. I think it is a spiritual experience, my doctors think otherwise. I am a deeply spiritual person and keep having experiences with otherworldly realms.

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