Hello
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Hello?
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Who are you?
I am.
Am what?
I am that I am.
And what is that?
Everything.
Be more specific!
I cannot.
Why not?
I have no point to measure up to.
What does that mean?
I conceived the self that I am, I speaks for me, I sees, hears, tastes and smells for me. But I am not the I.
What do you mean?
A mind that conceives its self cannot use its self to see its self. Just like a knife can't cut itself nor can fire burn itself.
So you are the mind?
I don't know.
I don't understand!
That's because you already know.
Now you have lost me!
That too is a concept you know and have chosen to pour energy into. Where energy flows there is life.
But I didn't choose to be confused!
You chose knowing over not knowing. Anything new to you has a point to measure up to.
Was I wrong?
I don't know.
What do you know?
Nothing.
How can you know nothing? Haven't you experienced anything?
To you nothing is a conception measured against having something. For me there is nothing to experience outside my self if I am everything.
So you are the creator?
I don't know.
Then what are you?
Nothing.
You can't be nothing otherwise you don't exist!
I don't exist.
What does that mean?
I am without form I am that I am. I measure up to nothing.
Now I don't understand!
So now you know. Because you have relinquished the desire and pursuit of knowing, of understanding. That is karma.
What is karma?
Ignorance of action.

You are going to fall
Brace your self to brawl
For your destiny
Exhausting your chesty
And living off
Each breath as if
The next were not guaranteed
Because this is the seed
Life grew from
A stenciled conundrum
Found in fellowship of a bee
And flowers reigning free
Where wind and sail
Chart the way askew the frail
You are going to fall
And you will want to crawl
And scout for crumbs
Until the knee bends and becomes
The servant of tribulation
Bowing to the puppeteers' constitution
Torn from self
You decorate the shelf
With accolades past and present
Idolizing the image you rent
From a faceless Lord
Who hands you the cord
To dangle your corpse
All in benevolence
Of pampering the collective consciousness
Filling the emptiness
With gurus, trinkets and wealth
Anything but the breath
That keeps alive
The entire hive
From a single exhale
That keeps a greeny dale
To the heart that beats once
Giving you one last chance
One last glance
At the ball of fire
A tapestry of ancient Maya.

You will not understand my bible.
Nor my religious ensemble
Because the experience of man
Should not stockade the lamb.
The holiest of holy
Will not coax with their folly;
Instead we laugh,
We laugh at a deity so far off,
Living with guilt.
A primal lapse of living with out.
Attached to the congruent self,
The belligerent nod waging fear over life.
Smearing adverse anxiety.
We negate self love willingly;
So love is not the engine,
A beat down city pigeon,
Feathers plucked by famine,
Limping upon a drudged talon.
Wings clipped by obscurity;
Disheartened, love preys on insecurity.
So we listen
Without reason
Waiting for a faint voice
A hidden angel of observance
Vanquished to your medial
Awaiting resurrection of denial
Denouncing the paved road
Shedding the serpents load
A callous exterior
Boxing the ulterior
When you fathom this ensemble
When you see a flaming candle
A string thwarted in wax
Melting away the complex
And when you fall for the fable
You will understand my bible
A clean page
With each teaching sage

One two three
Awake and see
One two three
Dream and let it be
One two three
Return to sleep, deep within the shee.
These are the stages
For ripening the sages
One two three
And your will is set free

The next time you go out into nature,
Leave your dog behind.
Don't call a friend to join you
Or bother your spouse
With something done alone.
Don't saddle your bike
And rush to catch the sunset with your camera.
This is not a memento to share,
Parade and shackle
With the rest of your dreams.
Don't claim love over her
When you still fear the creeping
And the crawling
Or pretend to meditate
While posing for the lenses
She is not an heirloom
To be passed down
Like the stigma
You have burdened femininity with
No
She is more than that
She is a mother
A mother to children who shredded
Their umbilical cord
Lost their way home
And now return soaked in pain
She is your mother
Not some ****** hostess for your events
Nor the burial ground
Of her infants dying in vane
The next time you go out into nature
Talk to her
Feel at home amongst your kin
Laugh sing and dance
And do not be deterred by her silence
Stinging words or prying eyes
All your life she has been your voice
You are still alive today
Because nature did not abandon you
When you tore her apart
With your cashmere this
Your pine that
Your 200km/h
The trophy heads
And your vile arenas that shave her bare
Not even when
You silenced her voice
When you looked the other way.

I come to you now
Bearing gifts of wisdom
How you accept them
That i leave up to you
I know who you are
You are destined for greatness
learn to see past your fears
but do understand this
the more you think of them
they gaze right back at you
I come to you now
Bearing gifts of wisdom
Why you accept them
That you leave to me
Where your heart calls home
Is of your own choosing
With my light
Great is thy existence
For greatness alone
Is more feeling than thought
Gifts you shall receive
Unseen to the eyes of man
Give and you shall receive,
Give and you shall receive!
Cradle those arms of yours
As you take a knee
stroking that itch
You are now sitting with your fathers
We are to you as you are to us
As are your deeds to us
So shall our deeds be you
Alone we stand and ruined of our strength
And so is the plight of man
But to ye of little faith
Gifts you shall receive
Give and you shall receive
Surrender all false pretense
Rally with the rainbow warriors
For our individual strengths
Solidify our imaginations
Give a gift that keeps on giving

Will you compensate truth for fame?
With your skillful tongue more active than your
hand.
Will you continue to administer sorrow freely?
Incidently blessing whom you come into contact
with.
And what chalice do we dare drink from?
A potion cleansed in what is common and
unclean,
Because my life you require for the charge of
your own.
By design you will my motion to build adoration
for guilt
Because your shrine has institutionalized my guilt
as a virtue.
So guilty I am for rejoicing your esteem
Now my eye is ceit of your deceiving womb.
The divine being in me greets the divine beings in
you.