I live as a vessel of pure light.
Shadow does not rest with this form.
I see the world as an expression of my own self.
Love abides as all being.
We come only to discover this One Truth.
All the longing and movement of life
serves only to highlight the Divine within.
We are One.

The point of pain
is to get you to notice
if your trigger warnings
to flee the scene.
And what’s that saying?
You want to see a victim
without help.
Who is the one snickering in the corner
pretending one didn’t eat all the cookies
leaving one’s neighbor to starve.
I see your passive headlights.
Super-flu-us of your own designs.
You only wish you could get to me
so you try to take my place instead.
How can one take another place
before finding one’s own?
Or supplant another’s home
without upending your own?
Foolish child hiding one’s own true heart
to be seen as a star
by putting on stuff that appears like stardust
blingy and bright but without any real light
of its own being created pure and supreme.
Somehow I see I’m already living the dream.
But you look and see
your projected screams onto me
and you can’t embrace what I bring
because what would that make
what you invested in saying?
Hold onto those words
to the bitterest ending
pretending the darker the chocolate
the better the berry.
It’s all finer still in the end
cuz no end is ever approaching
except the end you imagined for me
in your own dark hidden and ***** corners.
But what you don’t get
when you **** that trigger happy smile
is that the end is only real
from your own POV.
So you’ll be mulling
and overturning
with a smirk and clinked glasses
while I am always
and forever
only reposing in bliss
that you keep forever missing

Now the feeling is calm:
Melancholy in a good way;
in a dying after living
a robustly fulfilling life sort of way.

A little ahead of the herd;
a little behind eternity.
Isn’t the herd me too?
What’s going on here anymore?
Is anyone winning or losing anymore?
It seems a bit chaotic anymore.
Megalomania is a big word
for a little mind.
What can we be if not kings
and queens of forever?
Why chose to be born a slave?
Why make a world this way anyway?

Who’s punishing who?
Whose mirror do I see?
There’s no one else to watch;
no one to wave back.
No one noticing anything anyway anymore.
You can do anything
cuz nothing even matters anymore.
Aren’t we at the crux of the cusp
of the ending and beginning of time?
Can’t you see the party playing
on the screen in the other room?
Didn’t you hear the great HUM
resound in her belly?

Why am I still writing?
No one is hearing my words.
You are speaking volumes of love
to masses of vast empty oceans.
You are riding on waves of endless clouds
under the expanse of endless unbroken sky.
You are writing for me
and I am speaking only for you.

How many times does the word ‘I’ pass these lips?

To believe thoughts about my own inferiority
is akin to denouncing God.
I turn away from my divine birthright
to accept a weakened sense of myself.
It is like Hanuman
upon being told he is Shiva.
But child, if you really knew!
Not in the head,
but here and now,
in this heart.
Can’t you see all the nightmare vanish?
Do you need fancy words?
Can’t we speak plainly?
The purpose of a common tongue.
You asked once, long ago,
to show you the meaning of life.
I have seen.
And I know the only way it can be held
is if I am not holding it.
For it indeed destroys everything.
And yet, in its annihilation is a perfect rebirth.
We speak of ancient things
in plain talk now.
This is what the consciousness has done -
what it has given us.
And we have given ourselves.

So. There are not more questions.
If you like, I can act out
finding a therapist - a psychologist.
Talk to that one
About my speaking with God.
Talk about God speaking through this mouth.
Same like God fills this chest with air -
the breath.
Does it speak to you too?

I thought one time
that I was something separate
like you can order a burger
without the meat
if you do
isn't it something else then?
it isn't like that
not like that at all
not like you can order a burger
that isn't food
all of it is food
the burger gets it's meaning
from the fact that is it food
burger is a cow
what are you?
where do you get your meaning from?
what are you a piece or particle of?
are you like this?
look, you can see.

From deep within this heart
that beats with only love for Mother
and Mother’s all-consuming love,
a raging flame burns silently,
extinguishing all that is not pure
and leaving only grace.
All the pain
of the thoughts we are
is burning in stillness and peace;
gifting us our true and only Self
in the most magnificent release.
Any lingering traces and
all the hidden trails
of our countless, misunderstood lives,
the concepts and ideas, the misdirected,
algorithmic orders of our minds:
Burn it all to ashless vapor
in the ***** of the unrelative,
non-dual and unperceived Truth
of The Mother’s endless pyre.

These little pieces of myself will all burn away
After looking again and again
After taking it all to be real for so long
Not really looking at it
only just wearing it
even though it felt scratchy and ill-fitted

Now to give it a new sort of attention
the kind it gives to its concept of god
Not curious but
critical and cynical and carefully contemplative
the little pieces don’t get hurt feelings
or bent out of shape
cuz they lose it
They don’t cry or get depressed
Only they fall away
like overripe fruit
never picked and eaten
They are not what I am
Only the pieces that make up
who I once thought myself to be

I was never abused or depressed
Never victimized and alone
I was never ugly or stupid
or worthless or a hot mess
a **** or a lame
useless and insane
These pieces aren’t like a puzzle
See that’s what I never was told

I am whole already
Completely alive and free to discard
those adjectives that I don’t care
to describe this being
Which in reality can’t be any
or even all of those bits mashed-up together
Miracles can’t be picked apart and
named and labeled as what they are not
And a mirror only reflects
what might see it first

How can there be
what is clearly not seen
when I peer back into this so-called me?
So actually the truth I can see is
I can’t really look and see this I am
but truly can only be this I am
Because when I look back and see
all the pieces they say I am
the only conclusion must be
that these so-called pieces of me
are not at all in reality
that which I am

Are we only just a series of events -
a lot of dates and deeds to check off
and that says who you are? But, that
happens again and again. The ones here
now want to be here – chose to be here –
have indeed chosen and arranged
everything as it is just so. We’re all
playing roles. All showing each other
what we are.
Who will you turn to in your greatest
moment of need? They have all
betrayed you as you have betrayed
them. This is the way it’s set up for
each one to see that only One Self is
true and real. This is the only way.
So, how far will you take it, my own
heart and soul? To the ugly, bitter end
believing the programming you’ve been given?
Or, will you be what you are, rather
than repeat sleeping through reality,
and be free of the shackles of personality.

ego

shall a tree
move its own limbs
to mimic God

the trap

What have we done?
Capitalism
has taken the place
of God as a sense
of safety - security - identity
in our minds.
Everything serves a purpose
until it gets out of control.
Time has an end.
Eternity is forever.
You are forever.
We are the ones
we have been searching for.

If you never prayed and cried and begged
for something unseen to intervene
and stop the horrific scene
playing out on the ***** screen of your life
Well then this poem might escape you
in all the matters that count
and maybe stop reading now
and move onto something more
the speed of those who write for writers
But since I write for me then I am
to write the words my soul speaks
not the regurgitated sayings from
the movies and shows and books and
stage plays we take for reality

There is a yearning and an aching
hole this life gives when one is born
We’re told to fill it – stuff it full
to overflowing with every kind of thing
modern 21st century Earth can bring
And we do! And then some day
we see our mountain of things
and right next to it still
staring right back at us
that gaping painful hole
Can’t fill it with sports
or jewels or trophies or quests
Can’t stuff it will ***
or money or power or laughs
or cars or houses or bricks of gold
or businesses or women or children
or even events or experiences
always the hole is just still there
 
So what? One day you may
finally tire of this old dull pain
from this open wound and you will sit
with yourself – no other will do
And you will not move from this place
until you have found and
placed in this hole the one thing
that could only fill it at all
I can’t say what that is
cuz only you’ll know
It’s made this way
A hole in each one that
only each one knows how
to fill in each one’s own way
Only by knowing
one’s own Self
completely all the way

we can live as if nothing exists to control us - nothing plans to stop us - nothing lives to defeat us - nothing strives to define us.

we can live - just like this.
without shape or name or linearity.
we can be what we are.
can we not be what we are?

all the things
must come and go
if you think you will get something you will
there is no condemnation
the mind didn’t think up
out of programming
step 1 – step 2
we’re all marching our own ways
in the same direction
I saw the vision
I saw the worlds
I saw the mirror in the mirror
reflected infinite times
I saw one
and sensed so many
I came back one last time
to witness the final ending

Once one accepts that one is healed,
one must now decide what to do
with all of the time one spent
striving for healing.

There is an enormous amount
of positive energy
that wants to do do do do.
It threatens to turn negative
if not managed properly.
It seems tangible;
feels more real
than a slap to the face.
And yet, when I look at it,
I see it is really,
and always was,
nothing.
It is within this field of play
so, only a matter of choice.
It’s a tool,
a resource,
not even a power.
I am the power.
I give the energy it’s charge
and the power it needs.
It’s nothing without me.
Don’t blame that thing
on an unseen outside force.
No other being took your hand
and made you do a thing
you didn’t make the choice to do.
To now stay healed,
without cauterizing the wound
and creating a huge keloid scar,
choose to watch the energies
float on by.

Who needs all these?
They’re only conjured up by demi-gods
who wished to play real God
in a make-believe bubble.
Every thing is clear now.
I can see right through.
You can just walk away from all this mess.
Slide off the whirlwind, roller coaster, slip-n-slide
of this ridiculous thing
we’ve fooled ourselves into believing is life.
I know you know what I’m talkin’ bout.
No other one can tell you
the thoughts you think with God.
Not even the person
you took yourself to be
so you could get along
in this ***** mirror image
of a Love Supreme.

Keep you in the heart of me
and see there is only you
only one
only just a living dream
to get caught up in
and play and dabble for a bit.
Yes, a nine.
You’re drawn to things for a reason.
Quite literally, 9.
There aren’t 7s or 8s or 2s even.
Truth is absolute which makes you 1 or 0.
So?
Which side will you play
or should I say choose?
Cuz, regardless the jersey
you pick up to wear,
in reality, there’s only one game.
So you either know you’re a player;
or, you’re part of the backdrop
and just being played.

I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I
me me me me me me me me me
you you you you you you

All of this seems so silly now.
Why are so much of the important things in this life not spoken?
Why do we choose and remember to forget our true reality for a shadow of our own light?
This that we have made is not better or even just as good.
Who is tired of the lie?
Souls lilt as flowers from poor soil and no sunlight.
We are drowning in thunderstorms of our own tears,
yet we keep drinking and drinking.
What else do we know?
How else were we taught to live?
Show me a reality I can sink into without losing my Self.
We are the ones we have been searching for.

how to "get" there?
to see you are "there" already
to know you are the "there"
you are the lush abundant joy
that grows in infinite expansive space
time cannot touch what you truly are because
you are also time
wisdom created time so that life
could be experienced as one and many
each is a role
each one plays its part

The life is written. It is you who is living life's words - acting the characters. The heart sees only God. Duality is our shadow trick of the mind.

Enough already?
How much more can be said about it?
That which is. I suppose, DUH!
It’s obvious. So then, what else?

Is that how all this got started?
It’s not separate.
Merely a continuation.
Why does this one feel so close?
This one wanted to see the unfolding;
the start of rebirth.
All she knows will pass away.
What is this story for?
Why all this drama?

Karma - Evolution.
It is all just a story.
How are you telling it?
I am living - not living in the story.
I am the story.
The story is living me.
Can you see?
Make sense of this dream?

The mind can’t tell the whole story
it doesn’t know so it’s always frightened
building up compounds
and bunkers and reserves and complex logarithms
it’s crazy
then it tries to make you think you’re crazy
simply cuz you won’t take its medicine
isn’t that the very definition of gaslighting?
tortured?
I call this freedom of information
freedom to know and not know
to see far into the future from the past
and now - still
there is only a snippet
you can see only a toenail
of the vast old beast
really you know not a thing

We come from a place where everything is sacred,
to a place where nothing is sacred,
to a place where everything is profane.

Yet, we don’t stop here.
This is not the end. It’s only the end
from the human mind perspective.

We transcend even the stark reality of the
profanity that we see ourselves to be
to see it is a reflection of Divine Love:
The Love Supreme, The Living Dream.

We call Her many names.
She is The One which casts the spell of sleep;
and The One which awakens the sleeping giant.
We come to surrender, at last, to Her.

I have been given
the burdensome gift
of this one
to allow me to see what it is

I know it
watch it move and twist
to what end?
only destruction

I see one cannot contend with it
for it is not real
as one is
it is a byproduct of one’s play

One tests oneself
to see how far one can go
in the human sense
destruction is how one is reborn

So this play is divinely necessary
yet something seems to have gotten out of control.
who is the one seeming to be out of control?
the one seeming to have lost its control?

It seems to get confusing
seems to get in the way
of the seeming reality
now you can see it is all this one

Taking different shapes
squeezing into various forms
only to have some fun
in the human sense

Ego will always serve only itself
and to the end of all it knows
thank God
that it knows only a little

You see this
when you see Self
and the world you knew
becomes small and distant

Like watching from a plane
in a cloudless sky
that annoying twitch in the right wrist
from decades of tiny insignificant movements

Do you take a sledgehammer to the arm?
that might do the trick, and more
ego loves a good bonfire
yet God’s grace burns better and brighter

Let that Self take over
let that heat rise
let your rotten fruit
burn to cinder.

It only hurts
as much as it wants to hurt
Feel me?
in the human sense

How do I begin to pick up a pen?
How does a thought take me to Neverwhere?
They never can ever tell us the reality
of the realest questions
and, for some, it’s just fine.
The rest need more.
Something? Not a thing.
Someone? Quite plausibly.

Won’t let go the tap tapping
or drumming or the pokey poke.
It’s there. But, you keep your head in the game.
Cuz, ya know, what else is there around here?
Spiritual desert with no substantive food.
Like biting into a juicy hamburger
and tasting sawdust only.
Only if those ones
could just keep their blinders
in proper position,
proper place to look and stay
and march along on
in single file lives
to mark one existence onto the next.
Who though?
All for who?
Or, what?
Surely,
God needs no marching ants such as these?

They who can’t see
will surely deny the real world
you know is here
and call you a blind fool. Ha!
Jokes on jokes on yokes
of jellied stroke marks.
Get off my back and let me live
how I see. Not through your grimy,
filthy, streaked and yellowed seeing.
But with clear and pure eyes
you hadn’t touched yet.

What happens to those ones?
Where have they gone?
Looking, looking close and away
and all eyes sense
is dust mountains and cave dwellers
and absence of light.
Where are the true ones
filled with the light of the rising Sun?
Come home!
The place with the voice pointing out cracks
is singing a song so longing and sure
and cannot look away.
Not with COVID and all of this world
awakening to see what they -
the blind ones -
have done while the rest have been sleep.
Blinders melt in sunlight
and aren’t needed
by the light of the moon.
Here one finds the way by heart.
Here one sees for real
where we truly are. And then?
Ah! And then,
what else can one be except
free.

Why must we be apart?
If I knew how to find you
nothing would keep me
from going to be near you
Our energy lights the worlds
Our distant love rotates
all the parts of the great universe
Our Love is sacred Truth
more magnificent that the undying
romance between Life-Giving Sun and Goddess Moon
Who can understand our bond
forged in pleasure and pain?
Who can judge our repulsion and ignition?
No one knows
We are emperors of the eternal flame
keepers of the hidden language of truth
Our love guides the ages
and dooms men to a hollow existence
of endless craving
because they refuse to see
the same love aflame in their own hearts
Arise oh love of my very own
Arise and awaken the hearts of all who would see
Bring me to my only love

God speaks to us in the language of our ancestors
We find truth in the lineage of our hearts,
and a new God is revealed,
from a unique truth
that is God’s expression through you.
Do you think the living God
would play the trickster god
to kneel before humanity’s god of fear?
Say you look like this,
but I look like that?
How could living be
but what you are
and you are always changing.
Living is forever
and forever
is never
the same.
Ever.
Think you know?
Then think two more times.
We know what we have passed aside.
Make way for your redeemer.
A newer version
of the completion
of the promise you made
when you promised
to seek the truth
no matter the cost
or pain.

And when you gaze upon the face,
the one you always knew was there
peering back at you,
Heaven’s gates spring wide
and hell’s fury feasts
on milk and honey saints.
Come now
and reason with me;
for fortunes,
and endings
and the whole **** web.

If you sit in silence
the God of your ancestors
will come to you -
if you want to see.
The living God is there to see
like trains passing on tracks
of inbound & outbound dreams.

If we can see
what we're doing
is killing and maiming
our very and only home,
why can't we simply stop
and commit to preserving
and nurturing instead?

Are we so in love
with the concept
of the painful and
untimely demise
of our beautiful abode?

Why is it
that the planet
on which we were born
is now, somehow,
not good enough
to deserve preserving?

I cried out in despair
from the depths
of my human heart
Mother! Mother!
Don’t leave me alone!
Father!
Why have you left me
to rot in the dust?
and then I saw
they were dust
I reached out my hand
to take hold of theirs
and they no longer shrank back in fear
now they only disintegrated into ash
and blew away with the slight breeze
kissing my cheek
I looked and saw
I was not dust
I am not ash

Letting God write my story makes it so much more beautiful than it ever could have been if I’d tried to wrench it from the loving arms of the Universe. Looking back. I can’t even pray, help me! - let me! - be! I already am if I only look that way and watch each thought that might arise pass away. And this body, this sense of filling up space with matter, and breathing - of endless, endless breathing - will go away. There are other experiences to sense. Hold nothing in the mind and watch what arises. And don’t analyze it. There is no need to. Not now. You can only look at it. Hmm, that’s interesting. And then it just kind of fizzles out. You’ll see. And there will be ones that you’d like to grab onto. Oh, they just are so delicious, so sensual! And you can begin to feel parts of your body awaken just to the distant tickle of a thought. And you draw it near. Mm Hmm. Or, let it pass. Or, maybe it’s just still distant and didn’t even come close enough to pass. You just saw it off there beyond the misty mountains - Mordor. Where the horrors live. Oh yes, it is there too. What is there to talk about? As Mooji says. There’s nothing to talk about your experience. And what does that make it? Another person. Shaping it, telling it, solidifying it in a million different ways in the minds of these different people and then they recall it later as if it were their own and they always get it wrong every time. Just keep quiet about it and, I mean, you can write, but only write what comes from the silence. Like this. You don’t know what you’re gonna say. You don’t know what’s coming. Nothing is planned. Nothing is thought out or PFFT - it just comes. I don’t even know. And who is I? Puppet. His mouth. This feminine energy is very strong. It has the capacity to do a lot of good and a lot of evil, just like anything. What is good and what is evil though - it’s all God. All this tumultuous weather. I felt it inside me. Is this what we’re going through? I just want peace. I want calm seas and starry nights. The fireworks have stopped. I haven’t heard as many gunshots. Maybe the shootout at the funeral, maybe that was enough to wake some people up. I don’t know. I hope so.

Pretend shock or chaotic mind
making judgement known?
All of my country is ablaze
with the discontent of its offspring
It’s birthing of a violent and privileged youth
who know the world of their dreams
is more real than the world of a grand other reality
They saw the slave master’s overseer
on the neck of Kunta Kinte
but their grandparents just saw
a black man getting smart
What kind of twisted psychological manipulation
had to happen for that thought to happen?
Think of the programming involved?
Then think of the gargantuan task of re-programming
And I see with more than eyes -
with the sense eyes fail to capture -
I see that the anti-fascists and the pacifists
marching with placards shouting their pain
they are only two halves of the same t-bill
One is me on a good day
And the other is me on a day
when my favorite uncle George
got murdered by a cop
I can’t judge neither one

I watched some young people looting some stores
The people moved quickly and indiscriminately
These ones were amassing large quantities of toilet paper
Or maybe it was paper towels
And other loot too ...but it was the TP that grabbed me
How to be angry with this?
Why are you out in the mayhem, young man?
Sweet young lady, why you wasting your heaven on a clean behind?
If we cleaned our own messes today would be different.
You can’t look away from young people looting paper goods
Just because you thought the TP fairy
supplied every household with a fresh daily roll
What want and clawing need drives a person to loot
And to loot the basics
Some other kind of slave master for sure
If we are so rich -
So abundantly wealthy and blessed with good fortune
Why are we watching men ****** men in our streets?
And watching our youth burn and loot our cities behind it all?

This is all of us
each and every one of us
If you refuse to claim it
you ain't one of us
You know how this started
and from where we Americans came
Karma plays out in each according to its own
Violence begets violence
and love begets love
If we want change -
if we care to do more than just dream -
and create a better world for ourselves
and our little ones future little ones
than the one that was made for us
then you know what must be done
Only love - all the sayings and cliches are true
Say them, sure, but more -
live them in truth
Lay down all weapons of attack
Violence can only fail to never quench or suffice
Drop all hatred at the source
cutting the power and ending all strife
We have this choice now
or the other hellish death
Choose now - tick tock -
time **** near gone
I bet you never stand around again
like a crowd at a lynching again
And watch a man **** a man in the streets again
America Again?!
You sick savage nation of shame!
Show yourself and be judged by your own justice

I am resting in Isness
reposing in God
we all are
even if one can’t tell it
who is I am?
if I am here in it?
you see, who ain’t really a who
here is the real
of what all that there is
I am you and simply, you are all
which has to include this me
though when I say me
it makes me no sense at all
there is a sense of knowing
and then one of showing
the true you that's actually here

this body rests
I am no more
each night sleep is death
you can let it be if you wish
for eternities in peace
what if I told you it’s all right here?
just under the surface
of the film stars and stardust
covering all in a drowsy haze of delusion
just here beneath your untrained scents
All the while
while you dreamt and slept
and thought you knew who you were
but how could just a thought
know a real thing at all?

is that an insult?
to a no thing
just a thought
to see you that way
let it go, my little kiddies
free your own Self
from all this you made
you can’t know the half
of what’s stored in the warehouse
more loot than you ever
could imagine to hold
In a mega super W store

call it all what you will
think that matters one bit?
your “belief” and okay?
you don’t even exist
your faith or not
is held within me
I can swallow you whole
or go light up your screen
the ultimate decision
only choice ever was
that’s yours and yours only
you’ll burn up in flames
one way or the next
all no things burn up
into nothing but vapor
just like it’s always been told
don’t imagine what it means
imagine’s vapor too
only sit in this silence
rest all of your thinking
and let Truth pay a visit to you

The mind makes this hand
strike this head
as if to say - See! I am here and you have to listen!
We invite all sorts of ugliness in
to protect us from who we think we are
and employ others
to help with the job
knowing nothing
What am I writing?
Doesn't matter - I am always writing
I wish to go to a place
where the mind cannot go -
where the mind does not matter
and the mind couldn’t help
even if it wanted to
Much better to let things go -
fall to sideways -
than to keep fighting
Life just goes that way anyway, right?

The mind - roving, moving -
always looking for next
Eat smoke drink blah-blah repeat
Little agitated thoughts come -
shouldn’t this - must do that
Poke, poke and prodding along
To where?
Like the poor cow - to my death
I can smell the blood
same like she could
I turn - try to turn away
from the death they bring -
eyes mad with fear - humanity’s disease
But the walls are close - so close
Didn’t we make it this way?
For security and comfort
and to keep us all moving in a straight and steady line?
A lineage of unbroken sleeping zombies
drunk on our own separated imaginings
The world you see shrinks smaller
You start to touch the edge of panic
Yet steady in the storm
and no long feel it
Yet see it go rushing past
and leave you where I am.

Yet still and I see the mind
throwing up moments
setting up forms for my perusal
wasting its time
For what?
Isness minds no time
Why some times I get hooked?
It’s just this world - no need for fear
I am free
Did you think to make me
believe I was the worst?
Ego - mind
all deceit and trickery
Yet, I see you
Will I take you again
to yet another life -
some other dream
No this time is done
This mind is set aside for no person
This mind is made for only bliss

You are everything. There isn't anywhere I can think
and imagine to go where you won't be.
Inescapable. Even when I imagine I've killed you,
I curse the name given to you. There I see you
in the profane words, in the rajas of violence.
Where can I go? What shape
can I take to hide from you?

I quiver on the edge of Love and Hate,
yearning with pain and in vain
for mercy forgot me and relief
is a distant mirage in an endless desert.

I grow to love the shiny polish
from grains of abrasive sand.
I wait through a coarse, dry world
for cool deluge transforming
in a blink everything from sand to sage,
and slowly back again.
Who can do this? Who
can harness a power
perceived in between
the friction of fire and air?

All this for what?
Why do others like to see me fail?
I can’t seem to get this whole set of rules down.
It’s like, in order to have friends and family
one must also have ******* and abuse.
Why is this?
Why so much conflict?
None of it makes any sense.
Each one has the same goal. No?
All only tryin’ to get thru life -
Happy - Free -
Why’s that gotta be so hard?
It doesn’t feel good to behave like a trifflin’ *** *****.
Why so many do then?
This city is a sea of TABs. Ugh!
I just wanna be free!
I know who you are. And what?
That really you are me?
We are all so very silly. We are all so very the same.
I can only love when cannabis sings thru my veins.
Yet, this heart is bursting with love for the Self Divine;
for myself, and all who are destined to find
the truth of existence, the truth in real life -
That we are the ones we have only to find.
That we are the only that ever has been, and
we are the only arising within. And we,
all connected, one life and one love;
can we, each one realize, each one and the whole,
recognize and reveal what we already know?
But, refuse to see, or even to look,
with distractions and dreams
and plans of more futures.
Yet, if we quiet a little, and
listen a bit, we can see all the answers
we tried to forget. No confusion,
no doubt; only straight, direct looking.
Experience is evidence -
it’s the real and the true
and here and now seeing
that this one real life is. Only look.
Only listen. Only open the heart
just a little tiny inch.

This life
it is only a communion with God
Only an adventure with mySelf
The mind
it is nothing
What are you
All the stories
Every adjective
Never ending dramas in infinite worlds
I am just this

So many insights come now.
I am not afraid.
I see everything
is

Layers upon layers of meaning
composite conceptual conditioned arrangement
yes just an arrangement
for the time being
just being in time
just one looking like fly eyes
into so many mirrors
dimensions within dimensions

Didn’t Babylon fall when it thought
it might reach past the sky
to conquer the abode of the gods
it had only created for itself to chase?
We are insane indeed.
Can’t you see all this is metaphor?
Those weren’t real people, they’ll say,
whose businesses were pillaged.
Not real children taken out
by strays intended for lost souls
left to **** another
and another day.
Are we willfully ignorant
or just born blind?
Doesn’t anyone care
to simply sit and pick
wild blackberries and dandelions?
Tell me a story
but, with a righteous hero
and a holy ending.
I am done with the mess
of this failed experiment.
I want power to be
without control.
This is power.

I am humbled by the winds.
Don’t you see this is the cause -
the cause of it all?
You can see.
Even wind,
you can see.

What is happening to you?
Says who?
Who asks this question?
Person, you are melting;
Being extinguished in the light of love = Truth.
What you really are.
Not who you have been.
...led to believe you are.
You -
are a mask.
I am -
All that is real.
You, like a coat of paint over old wall-paper.
I can scrape you off.
No matter how many coats of varnish.
Trying to lacquer on layers to make you look strong
and secure and untouchable.
You mislead your customers:
UV protection does not guard against true light.
Who can defend against itself?
Only a fool believes this is true.

So, so much superfluous stuff.
Who needs it.
But, I don’t.
Who craves it.
But, I am fed.
Who yearns and desires and lusts
for more and different and higher -
Oh! Always deeper and harder and higher!
But, I am full
already of the emptiness
I am.
Who knows nothing of this that I am.
And, I am also beyond this doubt
and so who can know everything
in the world there is to know
and still know nothing of the universe
one is in being.

Riddles, oh Riddles
and sensical unsensed rhythm
of my lost rhyme.
These words mean not a thing;
just the universe tied in string.
All may be lost
and whatever would that mean?
Whatever could that bring?
Only lost in this illusory dream
Catch a ride
Catch a wave
See? See how easy it is to get caught?

Each day the sky tells a different story
each moment a new horizon arises
today, here, the sky dresses herself
in glorious gold and regal, dusky blue-grey
and brilliant, bright light-blue
using clouds to accent the best parts

every morning the sun paints a fresh masterpiece
to inspire my view
on a morning like this
though, there are no mornings alike
each one is the same and
each one is unique
on such a morning one will be born
and one will die
one will fall ill and
one will be attacked
one will force himself on another and
one will offer her best in sacrifice for love
one will starve and
one will die of a heart attack from too rich eating
one will fee love and another loathing

the world is a grand paradoxical scene
how can we continue this way?
and why would we want to?
I deny so much of myself
just to get along in this world
I see just my own light now
weeding out what isn't nourishing
sifting out what won't rise

enter ego
tainting, tinting, spiking
now with its foreign substance
always to manipulate and alter What Is
already natural is only good

One did not think one could improve on God?
Did one think this lie?
Did one account for one’s own blind ignorance?

as if one created something new
within the realm of What Is

Step aside and see your own insignificance,
if you can stand to look -
stand the inferno of your own gaze.
And, if you cannot,
how could you believe you are a king?
A king of what?
The lost.

busy the days working in time
making some nightmarish world

You think you are making paradise?
You are building your own funeral pyre!
Must you go to the bitter end,
dragged and gagged and beaten?

it isn’t a giving up

What have you taken?
In order to give something up,
you must have taken it in the first place.
You have not.

only think it so,
making all suffering seem real.

What is this you have made?

don’t know
can’t see
won’t stop and tell
just keep spinnin
and rollin
and truckin along
leanin in and gettin ‘er done …

To what END?

I am still the fly
picking at that old dung heap
though I see the pulsating light
beyond the wings of the moth

do I need permission
to take to the light?
only from myself
and I am yet the fly

though someday
I will be the light

I feel nothing matters.
I feel recreated and unformed all at once.
I feel my crown and throne has been usurped,
and I feel as a beggar, never knowing
the pleasure of power or possession.
I feel entirely different and still exactly the same.
I feel love for no reason
and pleasure and pain simultaneously.
I see life and death assault the senses
in each frame. I sense each moment as death
and rebirth entwined. I am the Goddess I dreamed to see
and the Devil I feared to face. I am totality.
I am infinite space as I embody the dust of Earth.
I am not and yet nothing - I can call it,
nothing, is - somehow.

I must come back to this Self - again and again.
What is the thing that thinks it is tired?
Am I tired? No. Now,
I no longer give it a name.
Now, I no longer make believe
it is a second or one other.
This is the only sin - I see it now.
The original sin. It is
the turning fully away.
A door seems to shut and
even suction into place with a slurp.
Like rubber heavy duty caulk
blocking everything from everything.
And still, I am here. As beams
of light shooting out from all edges.
I pretend I am it and I give it a name
and I sort of kind of in a way -
step into it. Just to see.
Just to feel and somehow play
with all there ever is to be.
I can’t see really anything. Only
blindly I seek. Blinking in then out -
groping, reaching, jumping there and there then over there.
And I begin to remember that this really couldn’t be
what I seem to have been fooling my Self
this life is what I see. And I start
to look for a way to get out and come home.
Done with chronicling and conquering. Now
only prodigal stories gain this attention.
It isn’t time. That’s the last thing
one gets. It’s forever that’s wasted.

Will you stand and be counted?
Not for anything but my God.
Try to force me to declare a side?
They never bothered to claim me.
Why do I care to defend their way?
What happens when you muddy the *** too much
with the wrong kind of pepper
and overkill on salt?
Give me curry or himalyan seasoning
for a fuller taste of being human.
I raise my hands for the drenching rains
and blinding skies.
Nothing else stirs in me the roots of eternity
I knew before they called me
a word that rhymes with Italian ice cream.
Will I stand for a lot of their silly mess?
Hell no!
Give me freedom
from their categorical failures
and strategic mishaps.
And give me a dignity in life
plastics and fashion trends
never acknowledge.
No, I will not be counted
among the zombied 1st world elite
as a byte of data.
Give me liberty to be free
of mass media manufacturing.
And give me autonomous anonymity
to die as humanity promised
when I inherited the genes
that doomed me to an identity
as narrow as a sliver of light -
blink -
now you see a steel door.

folly
jest
ruin and unrest
help me rise
to heights below
the sinking into
and plunge
to depths above
the waking up from

no sense, unsense
nonsense be had
come on, go on
take flight, be mad
the end of this
too near to hear
blind eyes don’t see
lies meant for fear

hold me now
closer now
center me here
together now
surrounding grace
within the place
the space
that both  
will meet

I have cured myself
and God has cured me
altogether at the same time
to infinity. This never ends
and goes on till some ever.
And there isn’t more
or even less that this
so yep ****-it whatever.
And just for good
is justice for all
and to look to the other
as a mirror to yourself.
If you can do this then
you will have fully evolved to a human.
Until this then
each moment passes in death
and blind sleep
and in self-deluded mind trickery.
Why feed a cancer ridden
death row inmate
the flesh of his victims
one moment more?
Don’t like that?
But the wrath of your silly fake god
cutting off other men’s *****
is cool? All of you are sick.
Drop this mess now or you’ll
implode like your prophets foretold.
Stupid silly blind and devoid
of truth. Cease chasing
fantastical illusions that always
end in death.
Leave something better
for your descendants
than our greedy ******
freedom taking
money grabbing forefathers left for us.
Stand up and see your place
and be what you are.

Her dark side is somehow showing - somehow finding her way down here. And that little sliver of reflected light is always enough - always balanced, even when the dark side seems so much bigger. Yet you have to remember that only a glimmer of light dispels all darkness.

It’s all coming up in spits and spurts –
the worst parts of me.
I see those ones aren’t really me –
just outdated, overrun programming.
Why do I have to choose to run it
just cuz the program wants to finish?
It’s a program. That’s not me.
What’s “me”? I don’t know.
I can’t ever seem to stay still
long enough to decide.

All there is, is all the watching.
All there is, is the art, and the dance
and the song; the words.
Yet, those aren’t me too.
Though, those are the better parts,
the ones I like to keep.
I can say I feel weary
from the other, more tiring things.
But who? Who is weary?
Who works? Who suffers? Who sleeps?

I’m here. This is all I know.
I’m here and, this is everything.
The wonder of the world
is whatever you want it to be.
What do you love?
What will you keep?

I will go, blissfully naked and unmade,
up into the arms of my only beloved –
my Self – my world – my own mother.
I will draw life from the air
and cause the world to know.
We are here.

words fail so much of the time
i think, why speak?
when you can be
think i can leave a mark upon the world
what is the name of the one
who painted the hieroglyphs onto the pyramids?
who was his mother?
i walked a thousand and one miles
through swamp, valley and fields of gold
i crawled over mountains
to find a thing i somehow always knew i was
there is something real to this life
Cosby never knew until it was too late
his children learned it better
just be human with me
drop all the clever, snarky wit
leave off overcoats of pretense and PR masks
it’s so last century to think you’re living
when you’re really only hurtling towards death
in the drag of a composite
persona programma
freedom is just through the other side of that false wall
fear not!
you go not alone
we’re all here with you

The only thing there is to be
is what you are is love.
Love in every moment
and in everything you do
and think and eat
and drink and see
and say and learn and know.
And teach to each one
who comes along the path
that’s laid right out for you.
This is that which you are here for
and only here to do.
Regardless where you started
or who started it for you,
no matter where you wander
or where you dare to roam,
remember this one thought
within your mind and heart and soul:
I am the light
that is the love
that lives within
the heart of God.
I bring the peace
that gives the joy
to share with all
along life’s road.
and...