Mathematics

All the people around me.
I look at their faces
and I see not two people look the same
Not even twins do.
How is it possible, 

have you thought about it.

Two eyes one nose one mouth two ears
one chin two cheeks one smile
32 teeth if you're lucky.
Eyelashes two eyebrows.

How can we

be so different.

Made from the same elements,
same physics and chemistry,
carbon and all that.
How many possible combinations nature has used, 
uses and will use

to produce us.

Different faces, eyes hands and toes...
Like millions of Mr and Mrs Potato Heads.

It's such a proof
of how infinite the nature
and universe are.

Pure Mathematics.
How many possible combinations.

Simple arithmetical mystery.

A chemical reaction?
Our soul.

How can we be so many,
and yet 

so different from each-other.

Why do we think each of us is special
and then again 

we are so many.

And will be many more.

One 

after the other.

One, two three four five six seven...

(We'll study the soul next. Sorry -did you mean God?)

Art and Death

It is our fear to death
the ultimate reason for
creating.
It is the fear of ending.
The anxiety of feeling the clock ticking.
The desperation of realising
that one day, we won't be no more.
No more.
As far as we know,
we don't fucking know.

Inquisitive towards institutional on-a-tray-laid man-written religion,
we pursue a journey
where we dig and dig
trying to reach the deep sands of it.
Through art,
we explore the different dimensions to life,
the layers to it.
As many layers
as our spirit's depths,
or heights.
As dimensional as you want it to go.
Timeless. Eternal.

Art is a journey of life
because we fear death.
Because we desire to remain,
forever and ever.
Desperate for grabbing the Now
and engrave it in the shape of colours
sounds
or words.
I don't want it to finish.

Listen to me!

Not just yet!

(...)

A legacy that will stay and live on
through years and beyond eras.
Art.

Our fear.
Our spirit.
Our desperation for life.

We wouldn't create if we didn't die.

Liricasoul 7 February 2012