Sunday, July 23, 2006


Somehow somewhere I managed to lose my way.
Self righteousness, importance and an overwhelming bullshit notion that I am some sort of atlas that holds up the world.
What the fuck?
let that world down gently though, no need to shrug.
glide it down that arm gently, rolling back to foundation.

some twisted view of myself haunting me,
not letting me rest,
persuading me to believe that I have this awesome potential to wake up the domesticated primate to the all that is.

So many before so many to follow.
Selflessness has not been my way.
(but oh, how i try!)
Instead, I have been wearing the mask of the egoless
all the while worshiping my own vision in a way
that is ultimately the seed of my own destruction.

How to digest,
and rebroadcast that ultimate signal of the divine
which is in truth the song of creation that is all ways all time?

How dare I be invested in some utterly absurd notion that it is MINE?

Me, who cannot even manage to grab the reigns of my own creativity.
Who hides in his cave,
only to come out half cocked, ready for a fight…
to destroy.

All in the name of creation.
Birthed of kali yuga?

One more illusion on top of the rest.
They build into my own personal tower of babel.
Imprisoning me in this self made mess.

Christ, Antichrist, politicians, civilization,
evolution, enlightenment, magik, theology,
and all of the isms and the refutation of those very same isms….

Creating filters through which the truth is veiled.
The only one I am kidding is myself.

Chasing paper tigers….
Expecting, hoping for love to be expressed in ways and from people who I most adore and cherish,
but who do not see the same reality as I do
(do any of us? I think not)
constantly inquiring of myself why it is I cannot let go of these dreams,
these wishes and desires which overpower me.

I do not negate or deny this love.
I know how deep it runs, how the fountain flows eternal.
I know.
All within the simple act of being.

To share all that I am with those I love most.
Multiply. Time and again.
More every day. All deserving.
How can I deny this?

How can I deny my love for thee?

Too much time spent protecting.
Both myself from the world and the world from me.
Sounds like death to me…
What have I become?
to where have I journeyed?

The straight path has no place here.
I weave to and fro.
Everything from the deepest suffering to the most ecstatic joy.
All in your eyes.
The mirror.

How long til all of us begin to really,
and I mean REALLY
understand that the objective is the biggest illusion of them all?

We love our fountain of progress in our blindness
to the fact that it is ourselves which we are taking the most advantage of.

Co-opting every bit of joy and converting it into coping mechanisms.
Nothing more than a way to ease the suffering
birthed from the detached life of the worship of separation.

Even the cetaceans are more capable of joy than we are.
Different modes of intelligence,
all nothing more than the natural aesthetic expression of infinity.
There are no hierarchies.
And I boldly claim that those who wish to impose them
belong on the bottom rung of the ladder.
(and yes, the dichotomy, the hippocracy is duly noted)

Externalization as a coping mechanism for an imbalanced relationship to existence.
Why do we worship our artifacts?
Can we not witness that they are dead?
The living cannot be cataloged, cannot be contained in museums.
It is only in the NOW.
It is process. It is a verb.
All nouns are dead things.
The noun is born of the static state,
of the need to capture a moment
for fear of it not being repeated.

And the truth in my experience
is that nothing is ever truly repeated.
Infinity has no need for copies.
It is boundlessly creative.

Yet here I am, repeating words, ideas,
philosophies and so much trite bullshit.
All of my enslavement developed in order to set me free.
The thorn to remove the thorn.
Once removed…toss both away!

Be joy
Golden notion
all is as it should be.

the transmutation is always in process
as the spiral twirls like a whirling dervish
through our own creative canvas of abstract time.

We must own up to our creations.
Our destructions.
Our overzealous interactions in our misguided battles for our own slavery.

Were you born to work?
to be another mechanizm in some great machinizations?
or were you born to celebrate existence?
to dance the dance of open creation?

Why can I not seem to drop the need to still think in terms of either/or?

all is and all was and all will ever be


The fractured fractal.
Teasing, taunting.
Playing the eternal trickster
in order to help us awaken from our dream.

The only person I’m ever really kidding is myself.
And damn if I’m not quite the kidder!

Reclaiming the song of creation.
Letting it flow through me,
simply stepping out of the way.

Drop the fears,
the judgement,
the need to be right and to know the truth.

All truth is and it does not need me to say it is so.
Its potential exists of its own accord.
We are nothing more than collapsors of potentialities.
every one of us a cosmic mother.
or maybe just its mid-wife.

Owning our co-creative role is the only way to make peace with it all.
Civilization…I’m not buying it.
subscription is not a creative option.
Let the lesson be learned,
and let us get on with that which comes next
in our abstracted sequence of linear time.

Let this ax drop from my hands.
Let this water flow from my eyes.
Let this sigh speak loudly of release.
Let these arms hold you tight.

Know I am here
In all things
Even in this goofy ass fleshy being
slapping down it’s minor appendages
onto the keys of this externalization of the human mind..


Beauty embodied.

No comments:

Post a Comment