• Stevenson Valentor

Awareness is Here Haikus (Fall 2014)

Awareness is here

Now you can stop, slow down and

Re-member IT all:

How you got here, and 

Why you are in-carnated

In this current, this

Stream: From every 

Moment to ev’ry moment, 

Your composition

Changes entir'ly.

What composes you is cast

Out from you into

The air - it is cast

Out as decomposition:

Right?  Because if it's

Coming off of you,

It cannot be composing

you ~ It could have been

Composing you, but 

THEN is not NOW!  If it has

Come off or out 

Of you, it is no 

Longer composing you

Anymore, then - right?


Lives are Fleeting, Flow-

ing, Fluid, Dynamic, Cont-

inuous, End-less,

Beginningless; with-

Out time to mark the start and

End of the aware-

Ness.  For me, it is

Conceivable that many 

Of the atoms re-

Cycling in my

Current environment have

Composed consciousness-

Es from past, distant

As well as recent incar-

Nations -- the atoms my

Body inhales now

To feed conscious and subcon-

Sciousness in this or-

Ganism very

Well could have been the same at-

Oms feeding and giv-

ing awareness to 

An ant, or a fly, or a 

Pressi-dent, or an

Octopus.  OR, the 

At-oms flowing and recycling

In my current could 

Have composed more dense

Physical material: a 

Rock, a frisbee, an

Hourglass.  OR, these 

Flowing, fleeting, recyc'ling

Atoms com-posed

Whispy, fleeting

Experiences: light, smoke,

Heat radiating

Outwardly from a

Candlewick.  Musings of the 

Smoking, illuminat-

ing candle flame serve

to re-mind my anx-iet-

ee-ridden, deluded

Little mind toward

the Big picture, Macroscope

of every-thing: ----->>>

Though now masked in flesh, 

hair, Concepts of right and not-

right, Fancies risen

From pleasant sense-at-

ions, Fantasies risen from

Senses craving bliss;

Though now masked in Ecstatic exclamations,

Automated utt'-

Rances, groans from dis-

satisfied senses left yearn-

ing for pleasures passed: 

Though mask'd by

Enraged discharges of

Suppressed energy, re-strained

To fit in with the world

Of right and not-right,

Mask'd in woeful and joy-full Salt-water tones:

Tear ducts, Coltrane's howls,

Elvin's cymbal explosions; 

Resounding vocal 

Chambers, Hanuman's 

Heart cave; Cloaked in hu-

man re-soundings of 

Mother Earth; Dressed in

These faculties to transmute 

Oxygen into

Sustained musical tones ~

Despite these maskings, 

My incarnation as that 

Fleeting candle flame 

Has not ceased:

I still take form through

Ingesting energy and 

Exgesting energy.

Each ingestion the 

Most pure, organic life; Each 

Exhalation the 

Final, tranquil 

deathbed breath.

This current body's

Last breath shall surely be

The first inhalation of

Brand new, beautiful life.

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