LOVE IS AMORAL
Missive #72 - Transcribed Poetic Dictation
[Love is the name of the game. It has been for.. quite some time now. Quite some time now… Yes, the game. The very same one we’ve all been playing, by various levels of choice and election. Our minds are not our own—nor are our hearts. It’s all one great conspiracy! One great breath breathed as one. The con~spiratus. The spirited conductor. The Spirit of Conduction itself. One melts into another, under the Governor. Capital G. We wonder, in whim and wiles, how to play, how to perceive, how to feel—awash, in the sea of energies. Treading just above seabed. Above sand and soil, pounded to dust, to ash. How many tears have made their way into the ocean. How much of the ocean has made its way into our tears. We covet the sea’s graze; the seize of grace. I sit and walk and stand. My standing is not firm, though it has been. My standing is firm, though it will yet be otherwise. I sting myself, fresh wounds — art and ornament to psyche, my heart / yearns~ ] Received 1/25/25 | around 7 to 8:02pm
Listen to the Recitation:
LOVE IS AMORAL
Amor fati
All fate is love, as
Love is fate
Mos moris moralis
Proper behavior in society,
One's disposition
Customs, manners, mores,
The morals are moreish, when mores become more
Than what we wish or what we think, more
Than the cues we cast, verbal tonal physical
More and more mores, the more we more
The more we must;
We love our desire more than what we desire
This is why desire becomes a sin,
Because we desire not the object of our desire
While thinking we desire only for the Beloved
And the Beloved through all things —
Love is not by definition not abusive
"I'm only doing this because I love you"
Emotional abuse works only when the love is real
And love takes no time at all to become real
This is upsetting, naturally
And it is proper to be upset by it!
Love for the wrong thing
Is still the right kind of love
Over and below what bespies
Beside what cannot be known,
Love reaches us there, everywhere
And every time — for love is not time
As time cannot hinder love
And love was before us, before any of us
Before even 'us', before even that, before
Everything was love, the fabric and interstices
The storm and the sea, the bolt of lightning,
The lightning before the lightning, eternally
Recurring, suffering and loss; Aurelius sings:
"Accept the things to which fate binds you,
And love the people with whom fate brings you,
But do so with all your heart", and
"Whatever happens to you has been waiting to happen
Since the beginning of time." Then Sappho:
"Eros shook my soul, a wind on the mountain,
Falling on oaks"; "You came and I was crazy for you
And you cooled my mind that burned with longing."
Beloved Zhuangzi returns, "Flow with whatever may
Happen, and let your mind be free:
Stay centered by accepting whatever you are doing.
This is the ultimate." The Upanishads next, with
"From joy are born all creatures, by joy they are
Sustained, and into joy they enter";
"You are what your deep driving desire is.
As your desire is, so is your will.
As your will is, so is your deed.
As your deed is, so is your destiny." Dhammapada
Resounds, "All conditioned things are impermanent—
When one sees this with wisdom, one turns away
From suffering"; "Let go of the past, let go of the future,
Let go of the present. With a heart that is free, cross
Over to that shore which is beyond suffering."
The Yoga Sutra: "By surrendering to Ishvara (the divine),
One attains peace and liberation." The Mahabharata:
"One must rise above joy and sorrow
And meet fate with an even mind." Vittoria Colonna:
"My soul embraces that eternal will,
The loving burden that is given me." In terza rima with
Christine de Pizan and Isabella di Morra:
"No one can truly escape what is written,
But one can make of it a virtue."
"The heavens decreed my bitter destiny;
I bear the yoke of the stars, yet I sing."
A song is sung by one voice, in many tongues
To the tune of the attuned, where one vanquishes
Attachment to any kind of love, and even
To any kind of love. When all are accepted,
And all are denied;
When all are saved, and all are vanquished—
The redemption of love as love may be
Becomes apparent, as not even the fabric
Not even the bedroom, not even the bedrock
Nor the implicate order, nor the infrastructure;
Not ultraviolet, not infrared, not between,
Nor else, or otherwise, or same, or different, or distinct
And, yes, all of these things, as all things are
When viewed askance, a glance into the true
Sense of where and how love operates, or orchestrates
One instance to the next, the last and the last,
Least of which can not even be, but
A rose hinted calorie, aquamarine
Tendencies to overlook cues, the arrogance
Of control, which too is drawn
Out of us, smoldering cinders of ash
Latched intermingles sewn to ends
And shown to be false, what is true
Cannot be shown false, until it becomes
True or not, the way is clear, the mechanical
Intimation, launched erotically into the heart
And from a thousand cast down stars.
Love is not amoral — it never has been!
Love is *amoral*. Obviously~
And it shall change us all: relentlessly
The moral of the story