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russell-douglas
American
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Followers2
Words581
A Verse In Time: A Trickster’s Alchemical Approach to Memory in Three Waves (Warning: The following collection contains depictions of three waves of the psychedelic experience—particularly with God’s allies, Los Aliados, the mushrooms—and like the psychedelic experience each wave possesses its own waves within itself. Ride with discretion.) . Wave I: The Allies’ Nursery Rhyme The Allies came to visit and take me on a trip. No need for boat or bus or plane or even rocket ship. The galaxy, as they explained resides inside your mind, The portals to the universe are windows you call eyes. Instead of always looking out you should try to look within. The ending you have always feared is exactly where you begin. Yes, all the spans of time and space exist in you behind your face and yet you cannot understand that nothing is a race. Oh wait, please be careful with that mirror when we are here and you draw nearer. Don’t let the face of everyone replace your face with fear. You are Horus, Mary, Jesus Christ, Cervantes, and Shakespeare, and all the men from beast to mice, from oceans down to tears. And so they pried behind my face and pushed me on through outer space and soon enough I understood there never was a race. It all exists right here, right now— the past, the future, the grass, the cow, the vast, the nature, the cash, the house, the king and the savior the beast and the mouse are all your creation, your relation, your spouse, your Path, your Bible, your ‘Gita, your Tao. It is all of your moment, It is all of your now. For you are the mystery of that which you seek. You invented the minutes, the hours, the weeks, the deserts, the rivers, the valleys, and peaks, your digits, extremities, elbows, and knees. You created the cure, you invent the disease. The labyrinth is you and You defeat it with ease. To master the Minotaur just follow the string Discover the dinosaur, discover the king, discover this grandiose song that you sing, and uncover the truth of the message you bring when you ring bells or Stroke piano keys and make the doctor sweat. The pranksters shifting shapes again, it’s time to make a bet. With silly laws of threes and fives, this riddle I repeat, replies that by the time the rhyme is over, the trickster will arrive. Gliding up in cycles by, the prankster grins and winks his eye. He fabricates a fluffy fix with fuzzy snow white lies to bring the doctor to a six then down to four inside and bring the tempest to a wave on which the four can ride. Do we glide? Do we slide? Do we fly really high? Do we bobble and sink with the rise of the tide? I remember the brink the cellular stride, the following leap, the primitive mind I remember the dirt, the water, the fire, the wind and the ether, the passion, desire. I remember that art can never expire. Do we depart? Do we retire? The answer is yes, The answer is no, The answer’s the same wherever you go. It’s never too fast, it’s never too slow and you are never the last to not really know. For the sun always shines, the moon always glows, the old always die, the young always grow, The seeds that you plant are the trees that you sow, from the bees and the ants to the bulls and black holes. It is all in your stance. It is all in your soul, When you follow your dance the bliss takes control. Take your place in the play and master your role. The Aum is your home it’s inside of your dome, Whatever you wonder, Wherever you roam. And so it flows behind my face the universe of time and space Now I understand that time is invented as the race Yes, you are Borges, and Buddha, and Krishna, and Lorca, and Vishnu, Dickinson, Lennon, Eliot, Gandhi, Marley, McKenna, Campbell, Picasso, Alpha, Omega. You are your enemy, your stranger, your neighbor. You are the peasant, the king, and the savior, the mandala man, the cosmic ******** You are the taste You are the flavor and you are the wave the unwavering Creator Even us as they explained merely extend from you A mirror to the macrocosm for you to gaze into. So when you get lost within your lies and cannot find your rhyme, Gather inside with your Allies and master the maze of time. Wave II: Contemplating The Allies’ Advice Thunderbolts of cackling giggles shutter through your vitals, shaking shoulders and squirting tears from squinting eyes. Exciting when dimensions hidden creep into your line of vision, morphing mapping iridescence with a fleeting fuzzy phosphorescent undulating elfin presence following your every contemplation. Concentrating on a caterpillar crawling up the wall how curious, this furry beast has fingers not to fall. He folds into his fuzzy form, a sleeping bag to keep him warm, a little home as still as lead. He hibernates and contemplates, waits and waits and transmutates into a gilded butterfly that flutters through my head. Violet translucent landscapes bleed through grass and trees, focus on a precise place of time and space and witness the birth of the human race. Projections made in fuzzy fourth dimensions quickly fade if your gaze should wander. Positioned to ponder, you plunge into prepubescent wonder as a shooting star splits the sky wide open revealing heaven and everything under the sun is tune and the sun is eclipsed by the moon. And once again, the music comments chronologically on your moments, as if all these notes and lyrics were cataloged to sync with the scenes of your epic voyage. Destroying contemplation again, the sea ***** the wind through the trees and blows a blue marine breeze through your hair. Do you dare take the time to recognize the punctuality of the gale? Should your frail and fragile mind be dangled from a line to flap and fluff and figure out the nature of the rhyme of our mother? You are your brother, your keeper, and your lover. All the lines align and oscillate in cadenced flow, the more you see with your mind the more your mind will know. A ****** brain may strain and throw a fit if faced with the tricky truth of the third eye Surprise! Who knew that Jesus Christ could sprout from cow **** Can you believe it? Wow, Bob, wow. Where do you think we got: holy **** and holy cow? Heaven is the here and now and every time you try to leave you lose what you have found. (* All words in italics come from various songs, films, works of literature, etc. and are not the words of the author.) Wave III: Los Aliados Wake An apple carries a story deeper than the tree, More nourishing than the luscious skin, More central than the seed. for the apple gave original sin and knowledge from within and fell upon the head, announcing gravity. Have you ever heard the tale of Johnny Melon seed? (The apple is global, so I wonder why, what could be patriotic of pie? Is it not just a strudel, a pastry disguised?) The colors we create distort. manipulate. The fools who follow fear are doomed to find their fate between their ears where the colors seem to blend and stream and almost disappear. To wonder why we’re here all colors must appear and merge into the blinding light that obliterates our fear. All your dreams, your fantasies, your symbols, and beliefs, all a compass pointing you to endless mystery. The treasure that you seek resides inside the Self, A jewel within the rock, A book upon the shelf. I bought the ticket, I’m taking the ride. I’m spiraling miles through the bowels of time. I’m spinning and laughing and losing my mind and finding it always returns just in time. It’s right where it left me, so I’ll leave it behind and return when I’m ready to relish the ride with a bite from the apple of my holy third eye.
0
Feb 3, 2010
Feb 3, 2010 at 4:36 PM UTC
russell-douglas
A Verse In Time: A Trickster’s Alchemical Approach to Memory in Three Waves
A Verse In Time: A Trickster’s Alchemical Approach to Memory in Three Waves (Warning: The following collection contains depictions of three waves of the psychedelic experience—particularly with God’s allies, Los Aliados, the mushrooms—and like the psychedelic experience each wave possesses its own waves within itself. Ride with discretion.) . Wave I: The Allies’ Nursery Rhyme The Allies came to visit and take me on a trip. No need for boat or bus or plane or even rocket ship. The galaxy, as they explained resides inside your mind, The portals to the universe are windows you call eyes. Instead of always looking out you should try to look within. The ending you have always feared is exactly where you begin. Yes, all the spans of time and space exist in you behind your face and yet you cannot understand that nothing is a race. Oh wait, please be careful with that mirror when we are here and you draw nearer. Don’t let the face of everyone replace your face with fear. You are Horus, Mary, Jesus Christ, Cervantes, and Shakespeare, and all the men from beast to mice, from oceans down to tears. And so they pried behind my face and pushed me on through outer space and soon enough I understood there never was a race. It all exists right here, right now— the past, the future, the grass, the cow, the vast, the nature, the cash, the house, the king and the savior the beast and the mouse are all your creation, your relation, your spouse, your Path, your Bible, your ‘Gita, your Tao. It is all of your moment, It is all of your now. For you are the mystery of that which you seek. You invented the minutes, the hours, the weeks, the deserts, the rivers, the valleys, and peaks, your digits, extremities, elbows, and knees. You created the cure, you invent the disease. The labyrinth is you and You defeat it with ease. To master the Minotaur just follow the string Discover the dinosaur, discover the king, discover this grandiose song that you sing, and uncover the truth of the message you bring when you ring bells or Stroke piano keys and make the doctor sweat. The pranksters shifting shapes again, it’s time to make a bet. With silly laws of threes and fives, this riddle I repeat, replies that by the time the rhyme is over, the trickster will arrive. Gliding up in cycles by, the prankster grins and winks his eye. He fabricates a fluffy fix with fuzzy snow white lies to bring the doctor to a six then down to four inside and bring the tempest to a wave on which the four can ride. Do we glide? Do we slide? Do we fly really high? Do we bobble and sink with the rise of the tide? I remember the brink the cellular stride, the following leap, the primitive mind I remember the dirt, the water, the fire, the wind and the ether, the passion, desire. I remember that art can never expire. Do we depart? Do we retire? The answer is yes, The answer is no, The answer’s the same wherever you go. It’s never too fast, it’s never too slow and you are never the last to not really know. For the sun always shines, the moon always glows, the old always die, the young always grow, The seeds that you plant are the trees that you sow, from the bees and the ants to the bulls and black holes. It is all in your stance. It is all in your soul, When you follow your dance the bliss takes control. Take your place in the play and master your role. The Aum is your home it’s inside of your dome, Whatever you wonder, Wherever you roam. And so it flows behind my face the universe of time and space Now I understand that time is invented as the race Yes, you are Borges, and Buddha, and Krishna, and Lorca, and Vishnu, Dickinson, Lennon, Eliot, Gandhi, Marley, McKenna, Campbell, Picasso, Alpha, Omega. You are your enemy, your stranger, your neighbor. You are the peasant, the king, and the savior, the mandala man, the cosmic ******** You are the taste You are the flavor and you are the wave the unwavering Creator Even us as they explained merely extend from you A mirror to the macrocosm for you to gaze into. So when you get lost within your lies and cannot find your rhyme, Gather inside with your Allies and master the maze of time. Wave II: Contemplating The Allies’ Advice Thunderbolts of cackling giggles shutter through your vitals, shaking shoulders and squirting tears from squinting eyes. Exciting when dimensions hidden creep into your line of vision, morphing mapping iridescence with a fleeting fuzzy phosphorescent undulating elfin presence following your every contemplation. Concentrating on a caterpillar crawling up the wall how curious, this furry beast has fingers not to fall. He folds into his fuzzy form, a sleeping bag to keep him warm, a little home as still as lead. He hibernates and contemplates, waits and waits and transmutates into a gilded butterfly that flutters through my head. Violet translucent landscapes bleed through grass and trees, focus on a precise place of time and space and witness the birth of the human race. Projections made in fuzzy fourth dimensions quickly fade if your gaze should wander. Positioned to ponder, you plunge into prepubescent wonder as a shooting star splits the sky wide open revealing heaven and everything under the sun is tune and the sun is eclipsed by the moon. And once again, the music comments chronologically on your moments, as if all these notes and lyrics were cataloged to sync with the scenes of your epic voyage. Destroying contemplation again, the sea ***** the wind through the trees and blows a blue marine breeze through your hair. Do you dare take the time to recognize the punctuality of the gale? Should your frail and fragile mind be dangled from a line to flap and fluff and figure out the nature of the rhyme of our mother? You are your brother, your keeper, and your lover. All the lines align and oscillate in cadenced flow, the more you see with your mind the more your mind will know. A ****** brain may strain and throw a fit if faced with the tricky truth of the third eye Surprise! Who knew that Jesus Christ could sprout from cow **** Can you believe it? Wow, Bob, wow. Where do you think we got: holy **** and holy cow? Heaven is the here and now and every time you try to leave you lose what you have found. (* All words in italics come from various songs, films, works of literature, etc. and are not the words of the author.) Wave III: Los Aliados Wake An apple carries a story deeper than the tree, More nourishing than the luscious skin, More central than the seed. for the apple gave original sin and knowledge from within and fell upon the head, announcing gravity. Have you ever heard the tale of Johnny Melon seed? (The apple is global, so I wonder why, what could be patriotic of pie? Is it not just a strudel, a pastry disguised?) The colors we create distort. manipulate. The fools who follow fear are doomed to find their fate between their ears where the colors seem to blend and stream and almost disappear. To wonder why we’re here all colors must appear and merge into the blinding light that obliterates our fear. All your dreams, your fantasies, your symbols, and beliefs, all a compass pointing you to endless mystery. The treasure that you seek resides inside the Self, A jewel within the rock, A book upon the shelf. I bought the ticket, I’m taking the ride. I’m spiraling miles through the bowels of time. I’m spinning and laughing and losing my mind and finding it always returns just in time. It’s right where it left me, so I’ll leave it behind and return when I’m ready to relish the ride with a bite from the apple of my holy third eye.
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