GLOW LITTLE GLOW WORM

You know that old bit, “my body has no

soul, my soul has a body?”

You are what happens when your spirit, your

soul, id, and ego are run through a blender to

make the complex flavor of you… body not

required. The implications are just vital,

that puree with your name on it is you sitting

more or less comfortably on the front row of

Plato’s cave. Shadows.

Is who you are dependent on the body you

inhabit? In Justitia’s scale, your future,

such as it is, against your corpus animus

measured in the Oracle’s balance? If we were

brothers and met in the air, face to face

wearing nothing, would I know your name?

Do spirits have freckles, do they have hair, do

they have names? My Brother, do we keep

our blue eyed windows open so they can see

our inside from their inside?

So much clutter on these floors!

Are Auras real? Are they like the Hooloovoo,

the hyper-intelligent shade of blue Adams wrote

about? Are they the color of who you are? Do you

have a closetful? When do you know for sure it

is time to change, or is that wishful thinking?

Does it matter? Auras are our fashionable camo,

worn as a tunic to cover our Animus, only visible

through the unfiltered lens of an indigo third eye.

You are the emperor parading an invisible

balloon to define your Royal space as big as a

famished anima can swell! Oh, for a camera

with the proper lens to tell the prism’d truth

no one wants to hear. Stop Children! Listen to

the squeals of a small boy who has known

all along that we are naked.

We do a proud strut in our tattered

prison garb no matter the filth, no matter

the tears and holes. It should come as no surprise

when this suit turns out to be less than the sum

of its parts, lost and akimbo, a gray heap on the

floor.

All the missing bits scattered by the Pound

carry on like Van Gogh painting the apparition

of these faces in the crowd:

petals on a wet, black bough.

Reviews

[Lorry]

I can't help but wonder if the fault of it all is our ego, that fails to comprehend that when we die, we die.
I remember seeing Neil Degrasse Tyson on his start all podcast about the ego and do we have a soul, as well as what happens after we die. He says stop asking people who have near death experiences stupid questions like "are you happy" and ask important questions like "do you have a body and is it clothed. If so, where did the clothes come from? Are they yours? Do you recognise them as yours and is it hot or cold where you are?"
I could think of more pertinent questions like "do you still have to tell the Barnstaple at Starbucks your name or do they just know it?" Or "are you aware you are dead?"
But how many questions do you get to ask, because after about three im pretty sure id veer into "is sex possible" or how's the latest batch of herbal heaven these days?"
Well, I kind of remember my teacher saying something about there being no stupid questions, although I do remember her launching a stapler at my head for answering her question on how lunch was with "utter shite!"
And yes, i do think auras are real, or to answer in Scots "auras are aw roon' us!: (all round us)
I wonder if auras have any difference country to country, which may explain why in Scotland people turning blue with hypothermia and in California turning red are often misdiagnosed because the emergency response crew don't know the difference between auras and hypothermia and heat exhaustion! 😀
Now, what was I saying? Why am I just standing here with my phone in my hand? Where thehell is that Barnstaple and lastly, how quick is Amazon delivery to heaven? 😀

[Vol]

Lorry,
I am not sure it is possible to give any kind of solid analysis of things that are spiritual rather than physical. Consciousness without a physical body attached is difficult to imagine. It is also difficult to imagine a non-andromorphic "God," We have nothing to measure with, to observe with, so I'm reminded of when the Spanish first sailed to America and because tall-masted ships were so far outside anything the natives had ever encountered, they could not even see see armada floating in the bay. It seems to me that without any means of knowing for sure, and with no empirical proofs, the amount of faith required to believe in God or to be atheist is exactly the same. I prefer to believe in an aware God because it gives life meaning and is therefore absolutely required for happiness. I have a hard time imagining such a great emptiness as the universe to be nothing more than a highly organized, random atoms. The Quantum physicists are saying the degree of finely tuned balance measurable in the universe is too delicate to be random.
Vol

[Lorry]

And Barnstaple should have read Barista! 😀

[RomaJ]

Vol, your poem really feels like a kaleidoscope of self, with body, soul, ego, and spirit all swirling together, asking those impossible questions about who we are. I love how you put us right on the front row of Plato’s cave, facing our shadows, while also sprinkling in playful images like emperors with invisible balloons, indigo third eyes, and little boys who see through it all. The questions about auras, identity, and perception really hit at the heart of being human. It doesn’t give answers, but lets us feel the tension, the fragments, and the beauty in our scattered selves.

This is just my personal reflection. I’ve always felt that without a physical body, we are just consciousness, pure awareness. Without form, we wouldn’t even perceive the body, only light or essence. If there were a higher being, maybe we would understand it through telepathy rather than words. Your poem captures that mystery beautifully.

Truly a thought-provoking piece.

[Vol]

Roma,
Thank you! I know there must be some form of ultimate answer to all the angst and existential fears that come from our consciousness somehow glued to our meat bodies. The very existence of consciousness gives rise to the possibility of the Universe as a conscious being, as God... As God AWARE of every cubic inch of self and more? Does awareness come in differrent grades, different concentrations? Is there existence without awareness but is there awareness without matter?
I have threatened the life of a bug less than a milimeter long that crawled onto my screen. Just my finger in front of it, it turned and ran away was it aware, conscious? Are we all just the natural reacrion of atoms as a part of the conscious universe? Sometimes I think I have too much free time on my hands... :-)
Vol