Death, a bistable illusion?
The end of consciousness,
complete annihilation?
Or…a liberation?
Consciousness unburdened by flesh,
pure truth and total revelation?
beeblu blog
life, or something like it, in poetry and photos
Death, a bistable illusion?
The end of consciousness,
complete annihilation?
Or…a liberation?
Consciousness unburdened by flesh,
pure truth and total revelation?
beeblu blog 
The dilemma set before us, bb, well put.
I want to believe in the second description, and… should it not be so, then I for one, will not know… xPenx
(you look around and see wonders that truly amaze the mind, make you believe in the here-after, for surely this cannot be it…)
Thanks, Pen – the juxtaposed wonders and horrors of this world do tickle the brain, somewhat, don’t they?
Excellent and as they say – that is the question. I like to think we have already been dead – before we were born – and that wasn’t too bad, as far as I can remember 🙂
Excellent point, Gabrielle! I can’t remember it being too bad either 😀
Nicely put. The age old questions. For this magnificent being we inhabit there is no death, only recycling. The fear of the death of the ego fires religions and philosophies.
Thanks, Jan. And your idea of recycling is quite fascinating in itself. Are our deceased wholes dispersed into the birth of other multiple wholes, up or down the food chain, or outside of it? Makes me look at the plants in the garden in a whole new light! 😀
Funny to think about when all we’ve ever known is being alive. I like to think of being dead as equivalent to being Alive with a capital ‘A’. I guess we’ll find out…
I like your ‘capital A’ perspective, Zoë.
Fantastic!! I love this word “bistable” and the allusion to physics, where I gather matter can be there and not there, at the same time. Your poems are bistable — too good to be true!
Thank you, Monica, for these generous comments 😀
I’m hedging my bets on the latter. Well said.
Thanks, Don
I want to think, he’s a tall bloke with a scythe. But when I came close it had no face: it was just yawning nothing. We are, however, drawn towards him, or it, like a relentless tractor beam. I pray it’s him not it.
Fascinating, Kate – tell us more!
Excellent, Bb! I hope it is the last, but also go with Gabrielle’s theory…
Thanks, Adeeyoyo – I think I’m hanging out for a bit of unadulterated oblivion 😀
this is brilliant, thanks…
I am sharing it with poets today, thanks for the support….
prayers to all of those victims, A++
Thanks, Jingle
That about sums it up.
I guess we have no choice but to take it as it comes, Tigerbrite
minimal but all true! here’s my potluck.. http://fiveloaf.wordpress.com/2010/04/27/cheesecake/
Thanks for your comments and stopping by, fiveloaf.