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About Deviant Zed SonderMale/United States Recent Activity
Deviant for 1 Year
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Love You by zedsonder Love You :iconzedsonder:zedsonder 3 0 Space by zedsonder Space :iconzedsonder:zedsonder 0 0 Remember the Pastels by zedsonder Remember the Pastels :iconzedsonder:zedsonder 0 0
Literature
Realization
In the beginning were the Atoms and Evolutions bound together as the one true Love.
All that was, had been and would be was present before them - a present manifesting that, the one true Love, infinite and eternal.
In this state of love was a yearning, a longing pressing desire to know that, the highest order - bliss.
Bliss, being created from the depths of gratitude, awareness and sacrifice - could not be fully understood with Atoms and Eveolutions fused together as one - to discover that perfection, the God must become Gods - distinct individuals case from a state of one into many.
So began the God Fractal - by no blame, no shame - rather unbound by binding Love.
This love - I am this Love - You are this Love, We are this Love.
Every story, myth fable and holy text testifies of this, the unspoken, Divine Love.
In the deepest depths of that Love - no religion, yoga, spirituality or faith can confine that Love.
It is a Love that transcends the written and spoken word.
It is a Love brou
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Literature
To Be
We all died.  I am left wondering if we were ever really, truly, alive.
When the self realization occurred the impact was of God and Gods, the magic and mystics, the psychedelics and perceived, the light merging with the darkness, the suns set risen, yin's yang, spaces with out words realizing; that realization that was mere words could dance upon comprehension, no never, as though attempting to explain the bliss of a shared coitus orgasm to a virgin or the way the light dances upon the oceans wave to a blind, along with all the sufferings, the pleasures and especially those experiences we hid in closets deep, affections that were culturally inopportune and shared late night before the confessions of a low lit device, these experiences bound us beyond words, terms that in the definition could not begin to define the worlds we has set upon in our stumbled projections to create.
The debate was still in decide because comprehension is always 20/20 and looking back looked a lot like l
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Literature
Reality
Excuse me, are you real or a projection of our reality?
Could you direct me to the realization that has been realized?
My eyes have lied so many times, I have lost count.
My fingers tremble over what that is and isn't.
My voice runs hallow, shallow with doubt.
Is all that I am an illusion wrought by the design of a greater mind or mine?
Time.
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Literature
God, Darkly
Orton, Ohio Townhall Meeting Minutes  
12/02/1987    05:30p
[Excerpt for police records]
Jud Lorthrap, Resident:
The difference between my cult and your culture is the numbers.  
You make it mainstream enough and believe me, they will be lining up; soccer moms, business dads, hockey kids, in mass to taste the drink that will change their lives forever.
Those who don't take this offer for salvation will surely be looking into the discarded paper lemon-aid cups thinking 'what if.'
I know you don't want to be the one without a paper cup!
Or maybe, just maybe, we could just hand out cigarettes, cholesterol in syringes or ladders.  Wait!  Ladders with black cats.
Sure, the result may take longer but to the believer, is eternity that far away to wait?
Now, I am here at this meeting to make sure I have no longer a cult, but a culture!
It would behoove my time to come all the way downtown off mountain street to deliver anything less than a proposal to increase my
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Literature
Mandatory Illusions
Let the mandatory illusions commence at once
Let us pretend to be that thing which we are calling ourselves
Let us act the act so that the action may justify the acting
Let us explore the limitations of these bodies and stretch them no more
Let us fear that which is not us for it is different, the other
Let us..
Well, let us...
Forget us
And in forgetting us
The only mandatory matter
Is that reflection which is in the mirror
Consisting of 15 trillion cells that reflect the actions of the bodies whole
No let us let go deeper to the 15 trillion times the 7.4 billion inhabitants of this rock
Let us talk about the depth that procession would make if we all just ceased to be
Caught so much in these acts of collective individuality
To see the reality of the illusion states of mind, body, design
That is an encapsulation of a higher kind
Taking all these facts back to this illusion
Using them as hand warmers in the cold confusion
Peeling back the layers of that space, matter between me, you
To
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Deep Dreams of Portland, Oregon by zedsonder Deep Dreams of Portland, Oregon :iconzedsonder:zedsonder 0 0
Literature
Waytold
Hush little show, let me tell you the word
Began as a seed and the flew like the bird
If that seed don't grow what you need
Cast it out and cover it in leave
And when that leave buries deep behind
Then you know, then you know its time
Time to define line upon line
Away from me, a way for me
A way for me to be, to see
Away from me, a way for me
To be
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Infinite by zedsonder Infinite :iconzedsonder:zedsonder 0 0 Identity by zedsonder Identity :iconzedsonder:zedsonder 2 0
Literature
Once, twice.
Cognitive copulation conceiving culture
Smoked cigarettes on electric lights
The buzz is surreal from the beds view
Afterglow aurora australis streaming ~
Streaming smoke clouds of passion in decline
This is their moment, the moment they dared
To be snapshots taken in succession
Of bodies joined at the crux they bore
Amidst the spit and sworn words
Drawn from inexact moments
On clocks correct twice a day
Time has drawn its watchful gaze
Reluctant to exact out the kairos, fixed
They tingle from head to toe
Filling the spaces in-between the two
With wishful wicked tales of decadance
That scars can tell so much more
The contours of them they dutifully explored
Knowing every inch of flesh that trembles
Under the pressure of being made known
Still, beyond this, much further beyond that
Is the birth of an idea formed from
The stirrings of that initial cognitive orgasm
Giving ideas which from their formation were
Terrible, oh so terrible in all its measures
Shall they, shall we, try again?
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Literature
That then
Look!
See how they scream in abandon
Hear them now!
These are the restless souls
Awaiting, Awaiting, Awaiting.
But for what?
See!
Look at how they indulge themselves
Here I am now!
Among them, the restless souls
Awaiting, Awaiting, Awaiting.
What for?
That, then, never, now.
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Literature
Before We Were Millenarianist
Startled children minds in adult bodies
Held to the ideal of their skin ideal trivialities
Tangled webs of conceit
They plant their words carefully minding the mannerisms
Of conditions that construct cultures cult
What was it to be young
To be reckless
Without cease?
Increase of captured goods
Dripping oil fear forms rainbow patterns in the rain down
Stomping feet, child's play
Tumbling, tumbling before me
Open your eyes, essence of purity
See the lurid shapes dance, dancing splashes
Closed eyelids, lashes
As we sway lower, lower on a floor that dances to us
When shall we no longer feel so foreign
To that which is familiar
Lie with me
Don't lie to me
We have held so many lies as truths
As children have held fair prizes from carnivals
Get away from this noise
Let me see all the vulnerabilities that make you, me
That which is the scared child
Underneath this skin
Further, further, down
In the twisted roots, gnarled stem cells spitting blood
Encased in this place we shall make love
Not as
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Literature
Timeless
We are the authors of our past,
the narrators of our present
and the projectors of our future.
When we fully realize and actualize this time opens from a finite and temporal state into more infinite state where we are able to give more directed function to the formation of time.
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zedsonder Featured By Owner Dec 8, 2017
Slown down.  Breathe.  Art will come, at all paces, spaces, places.
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zedsonder Featured By Owner Nov 23, 2017
The urgency for artistic exploration exploded to me reading Ray Manzarek's the Poet in Exile, a book that speaks in depths about the artistic nature of Jim Morrison in an intimate manner.   Yet, in this urgency still remains an unsettled caution to get the work to the best formation that is possible in it's range.   Into the doors of perception.
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zedsonder Featured By Owner Sep 16, 2017
[ Que the changing of seasons as Summer Becomes Fall and there is a tendency to look inward. ]

Self Reflection has been taken to the extreme.  I really feel I have broken that mirror and now I am carving out new artistic measures to understand this space, place called life after ending yet another project that explored the art of becoming, being.  ( healmonics.blogspot.com )

I wrote and wrote and wrote and wrote this year, more than I have in a long time.  But it wasn't just writing that was written alone, as with all my work it helped to discover new aspects in myself and this world around me.  It wasn't just writing to write, but to tune something that needed tuning.

But now, now, I feel I have broken that mirror, as mentioned.   

No 7 years bad luck, just a shift with more possibilities of self expression in the shards shining.

Some would call that a mess.

Me?  I call it art.

Cause I certainly don't want to stay here doing the same pieces, the same concepts, the same reflections, connections.

I'm ready to expand the horizon and raise up the sun.

Let it be - become.

z.
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