"The Look of Innocence"


I saw the look of innocence
Which i used to call stupidity
In the eyes of fresh young bodies
Moving freely about the planet
To see if they can find themselves
Or some thing worth it to be
Or merely exciting the senses
I don't know which but i guess
And think i know a big mistake
That fades a bit from time to time
To let me perceive now and then
New realities and or concepts
Like the look of innocence

"The Meaning"



I will not know the meaning
Of the word love
Until I love
I will not know the meaning
Of the word service
Until I serve
I will not know the meaning
Of the word death
Until I die

There are many, many words
I hope I never know

"The Meaning"



I will not know the meaning
Of the word love
Until I love
I will not know the meaning
Of the word service
Until I serve
I will not know the meaning
Of the word death
Until I die

There are many, many words
I hope I never know

I touch the mirror thinking i know
       the truth of reflection
Not separate but i moving i stare
       mesmerized in dream worlds
Flat      two dimensional      pieces of now
       pride swells to safety mastery thought
Of all claimed a union intimate wisdom
       if but shyly humbly
An ant whispers      hallucinating lions roar
       lions will      and billions of other ants
       see deluded      gold bushy mane
       carnivore teeth      breath of flesh
       eater
Braincarving rationalized existence
       ecstatic hope or fear for the moment
       in mind
Sight touch sound taste smell
       consciousness sensate
Variables infinite shaped perceiver
       perceiving perceived perceptions
Wave after turbulent wave
       light      gravity
       x-ray      thought
       one object      cause effect
       different view
Holding together a mote of cosmos
       non other than we this
       mountain meru

"The Mystery a Fear"


A wonder is the mystery
       The mystery a fear.
Countries unexplored bereave
       We must travel on.

Dream a simple holoworld
       Safety mist of brain.
Dream is but a dream, a craft
       Sculpted formless mind.

Lost the future gained a mote
       All the unexpressed.
Never seen, to near to touch
       Thoughtless only known.

I refuse the pains of sadness
And pay the price unwillingly
I travel from moment to moment
Evading myself
Then wonder who I am

"The Pain"


I refuse the pains of sadness
And pay the price unwillingly
I travel from moment to moment
Evading myself
Then wonder who I am

on soft clouds i walked so many days
we were lovers and i feel time now with my heartbeat
as we wander far apart
kissed by angels when i'm sleeping
or is your sweet soul touching me
this vaunted world is just a nonscence
without your memorey in mind
in the dark night dear past the moonbeams
i will ever see our favorite star

"The Pickle"

The suffering the happiness
The you inbetween
Or in spite of

Each mind must taste the ever
On its own
And judge a universe thereby

"The Place"


I have been to a place
Between my ears
Called hell
It is a destination
We all arrive at
Sooner or later
Many
Painfully painfully
Pass through
Some
Painfully painfully
Live there

Till they die

"The Promise"


I will not know it
       till i see it
Is such a vital promise !
Does the fool follow a dream?
Are the Masters master magicians
       of pain, hopes and delusions?
If so what i will see
       is their cruel lying hypocrisy
And i will **** them
And scatter their hollow empty
       corpses
And books of trickery
       far and wide
And their death
       shall be our gain

"There Is"

there is no difference
       between
receiver and giver
giver and receiver

"The Rhythm"


The rhythm patterned daily grows and is
The conscious now replete
With shades and hues of legion feathered touch
As universe existent ill or good
The end is not a valid thought to think
Beginning spirals back in timeless forms
Of cause vibrating co-dependent atoms
Bump and bump no space between
Called here or there
Wise and deep and calm the ocean lives
Among us is us to the bone degree
Of what we guess we are
Words are spoken and mistaken
To be valid firmities
So walk we do up in the air of self
And dream we tread a ground eternal
Day by day with closed eyes fearful
Of the image in the mirror
Yet there is a way that stills
The shaped confusion foaming
Vast and brilliant in the heavens
Of the mind we share and share alike
That cannot truly be in darkness for
Inherent is a constellation
Casting light in ten directions
Every corner that is but a name
Illumined

"The River"

The river flows on
The current is strong
I go through the rapids and eddies
Always moving forward

I have tried swimming upstream
Frustrated and exhausted
I gave up
And the river carried me on

I swim very badly alone
I must have the help of the others
The others in the river with me
I thought this made me weak
I tried for a long time to swim alone
It was very hard and frightening
Sometimes I almost drowned
I had to ask for help
Or die
The ones close to me kept me afloat
Even though I did not like them much
They scared me
They scared me almost as much as drowning
Almost
I asked them where the land was
The land where I could stop
And rest
They said there was only the river
This frightened me also
No place to rest
Ever
Always the river
Always the rapids and eddies
Always moving forward
I knew I could not do it
They told me they could not do it either
That when they were tired
Or frightened
They asked the others to hold them
To keep them afloat
So they could rest
I had never tried this
I thought they would just let me drown
I thought I must learn to swim alone
I was wrong
The others have told me a story
About another river
A river we go to after we die
They say it is very beautiful
Calm and peaceful
With a very strong person
Who holds up everyone who gets tired
I like to think about it sometimes
It makes me happy
Yet I hope
That we can still help each other
When we want to
For that is a very wonderful thing
There are many people in the river
Some are very selfish
And laugh when I ask for help
They are very good swimmers
Very strong and determined
But the river is very strong too
And there is no land to rest on
Ever
And sooner or later
They too must ask for help
Or die
I hope they ask for help
For the river is very beautiful
But I never saw this before
I was always to tired
Trying to swim alone
There are many others in the river
Many are like me
We are very weak swimmers
And we sometimes forget things
So we get together often
To help each other stay afloat
To help each other rest
And to help each other
Remember things
And it is very nice
Sometimes
Even with much help
Someone drowns
But this is the way of the river
It hurts
For we will miss them
But many of us believe the story
About the other river
With the person who is very strong
And helps us all to rest
So
The river flows on
The current is strong
We go through the rapids and eddies
Always moving forward
And we help each other to rest
And may it always be so.

The self
Of the here and now
Is different from
The self
Of the here and now

the journey started long ago
or now i really don't remember

i fell down in icy snow
crawled up to higher ground

felt a sleep of memories
oh so comfortable

the sky touched me

"The Song of Not Self"

Habits, are not the self
Customs, laws, nationalities
       are not the self
Conventions, language, vision, taste
       are not the self
The rolling Georgian hills, the Himalayas
The western Rockies, the eastern Smokeys
The northern forested Canadian home of the white bear
The White Cliffed Isle, the frozen Red Gulag
The cities clogged with motion, the empty vast stretches
       the round, wet, green, globe circumferenced, the stars
       are not the self
The perishables
       are not the self

Habits, are not the self
Customs, laws, nationalities
       are not the self
Conventions, language, vision, taste
       are not the self
The rolling Georgian hills, the Himalayas
The western Rockies, the eastern Smokeys
The northern forested Canadian home of the white bear
The White Cliffed Isle, the frozen Red Gulag
The cities clogged with motion, the empty vast stretches
       the round, wet, green, globe circumferenced, the stars
       are not the self
The perishables
       are not the self

calm peace of pacifism
no knife to your throat
socialism is good if
you have a desk job

growmoresoy
forthemasses
it'syourjob
thestatesaysso

3 children dead from hunger
the state wants soy

1,000 yrs ago is nothing in the
  tower of when. Standing on
a rock 2 million years past.

The future is present and
   the present is last.

the tower of when

1,000 years ago,is nothing in the
tower of when. standing on
a rock , 2 million years past
the future is present
and the present is last

i saw a child who died last night
and lived a hundred years
the peasant begging on the street is me
i'm rich i give you free
call upon the minutes and die again
the tower of when is why

"The Visionary"



He is never where they look
Unless by accident they pierce him
The communal streets are crowded with the dominant pattern
Happy happy as real as it can possibly be
He is not there with them set in time and lock step
Curiouser than stubble on a young girls cheek
Like **** of a boar hog
Not able to leap anything
Just a drop in the bucket
The bucket in the ocean
And its ocean all the way down

He is never where they look
Unless by accident they pierce him
The communal streets are crowded with the dominant
                                                                                        pattern
Happy happy as real as it can possibly be
He is not there with them set in time and lock step
Curiouser than stubble on a young girls cheek
Like **** of a boar hog
Not able to leap anything
Just a drop in the bucket
The bucket in the ocean
And its ocean all the way down

Ever follow a witch to the witch store?
At times I felt her see me in her head.
An unholy manifest riven in brain chemistry, a pore
For consciousness to flow through, into dead.

i owe i owe it's of to work i go

"Think..."

Think act feel feel act
Act feel think feel think feel
Act act feel think think
Think act feel act think act
Feel feel think act act think
Act feel think think act feel
Act feel ................

"This"


Drinking coffee at a modern day
Greasy spoon
A Mcpoet of no repute
I write from lack of action
And satisfaction
In a social framework i used to
Blame and criticize in all
Honesty i think differently now
About the interdependent co-arisen
Universe appearing as this
Coiled fathom long body mind
That i hold so dear i lie
To myself to obtain the comforts
Powers and other
Habitual illusions of thought
Which are but minuscule vibrations
In the emptiness of the all in all
That science can not fully comprehend
And guesses upon the question of
What was the shape and form existent
Prior to the theoretical
Big bang

This magic hat, a crown of thorns sometimes
Hard pressed and poignant, we blessedly wear
Till death recumbent stills the joys the care
The strivings found in all sentient forms.
We walk upon this globe each day without
Wonder nor concernment for monolith
Thoughts arisen, seemingly threaded with
Threads still hidden though faithfully throughout
History named and imagined. The full
Ever-vescent multitude, a flash, the
Portion illumined, then grasped as all in all.
This cause repeats repeatedly, a breath
Of mind cognate and fleeting that does swell
Our conscious state to mortal width and breadth.

"Thought The Heartbeat"


Thought the heartbeat spiritual lung breath
Learned conditioned malleable prism
Of the underneath space-time-mind-light-root-
Center of the universe one fathom
Long dreamed of reality this mountain
Crafted i permeation salts the sea
Relative here now no where empty form
Experiencing movement happy sad pain
Joy fear death yes no death birth twining
Around the wheel sentient shaped cognate
Realms six of one no other place to go
But out nirvana way some say some don't
Care just slake vibrations vibrating till
Satiety with peaked release fall
In brain chemistry world incredible we do
Not know the soul deep with eddies currents
Patterns self aware point bright in view held
Firmly scared to cease idea nothing
But the great unknown a million
Magnitudes of bone in ten directions

i saw a man waiting for a rat
to come out of its hole
so he could eat it

the snow was menacing but i
did not notice i passed by
no avalache ever came

standing naked on a small ledge
thinking waiting to drop hard
i masturbated and left

i heard a sound so sweet and pure it brought
me to my knees many play as one

and lift the ether from the mass the blessed
has changed my mind forever and i know

nothing i just hear a peace of a mind
in the time of time and the time again

i heard a sound  so sweet it brought
me to my knees many sang as one blessed

and lifted the ether from the mass
and it has changed my mind forever

i just hear and know this mind
in the future of time and this time again

i saw
the dog
on the road

" To Allen"


Your balder than i'll ever be
I hope
You dead man
Throwing words at me that smell
Sweet and honest
Like your worm-feast corpse
That will eventually atomize
And flow through the hairy nostrils
Of future sentient beings
Living upon this sphere and other places
Oxygenated by the mother
That will tenderly process you again
Into the very fabric of existence
Which will vibrate differently now
That you have been and writ upon
The globe your karmic babble spilling
Guts and ***** for all to consume
However they wish and dream
Or dare

"To Arms"




a call to arms

           how used up the words

    perpetual plague

           turn the other cheek

                       99.9 %  dream

         where is heaven ?

                   when ?

         where is woman ?

                    man ?

"To Die For"


I think i write my poetry like i think
       i walk
Prescient born footsteps?     I think not
Breath upon a page      nothing more
       essential mundane repetition of
       life process
Or perhaps the soul

Through lack of skill a mystic is born
       mumbling incoherent descriptions
       of a blurry apparition
I do not need to be here      no one else can
       do my essential task the why
       of this shape
Form follows functions

The empty shell holds up the heavens
       touches god      is
The form shell births creation suffering and
The i      king of desire      must abdicate
       willingly      no thing else can do
       so much truth birth
The problem is      the i feels
       almost worth dying for

"Together En-mass"

Together en-mass we drink vibrations
Torrenting from electronic multiplication boxes
Stacked repeatedly with fore-knowledge
Of manipulation formulas learned
Consciously or unconsciously no matter
For we are here and sit and expose ourselves
To the rhythmic pounding onslaught
To feel and re-feel a froth of stimulation
Which gorges the ego in its blind efforts
To consummate the universe in order to believe
In its own fabricated existence as genuine

I wonder about dead men
   I am not one       yet
Will be

"To Morrow"


To morrow we travel continuous
In the structured realm of man
Yet nature's purer art knows no
Wavering flow of moments
The now permeates all eternity
And ever has and shall
Our mortal thoughts change not
The center, what is, is
With or without consent
Of a coherency of cells

the child is asleep
dreaming of the way
to find a better life
tomorrow

Tomorrow Never Comes

I saw you

I saw you

I saw you

I saw you

I saw you

I saw you

I saw you

I die

   tomorrow

"To Never Be Mindless Again"


To never be mindless again i pray
To think of here and now free
Of reflexive history dreamed
Into existence dependent upon
Conflictions fear desire hatred
Shooting barbed images
Blood seeking and disruptive
To compassion and peace
Underlying monotone joy effect
From process caused
Perceived learned emulated
Lived
Then the final movement to

"To Never Be Quiet Again"

To never be quiet again i pray
To sing of bones and teeth
And soaring birds
Of change eternal transmuting
The aggregate of we
To newer dreams unthought
Till seen in the moment arisen
Of monkeys contemplating in trees
Of vibrating mind stuff
Incarnate oscillations
Neither existence nor non existence
But the fullness of the inexpressible
The beauty of no shape
No form
No archetype but the make believe
The source of breath
The source of sight
The source of consciousness
Infinite variety bewildering to ignorance
To birth and death continuous
Till birth and death transcended
The exhilarating mystery of motive power
Of Himalayan hillsides
Prayer flags in the wind
Hammer and chisel stone work
Snow
And the virtuous wishes of all
Sentient beings
Amen

"To Right an Ode"



to right an ode to maize
i really must have lost it if it has come to this
from around the vicinity of south america chile is
america so why am i here in this place of my own
reception put in a blender that is i am i am shazzam
the colors alone are enough of a poke in the eye to shake
a sharp stick at  ( speaking of color ) wish i wasn't so conditionally
prejudice would love to caress some black ******* and thighs
and other parts but only if she acted my shade of white
( when you're crapping out the truth sometimes it stinks )
and there was a billboard up on lake street for one week
before someone complained and the city gestapo took it down
it said     the problem is culture not color
i don't know seems right to me but i'm just a confused
white guy in my head trying to drop society
from my brain without dying in the cold for lack
of gold which i still habitually cherish heh !
it buys aspirin and food can't be all bad
not even t.v. is all bad and that is an incredible
testament to the value of this red white and blue daze
of life is first i can have all the screaming world where ever
i'm sitting in front of and ( this the good part )
i can legally get up and turn the **** thing off !!!
and not even the news is all bad like even the news
tells us true one percent of the time but you really
have to concentrate to see it hence the commercials
which delude and hypnotise yet shows me there is
enough of the large big green benjamins around already just
need to put them to good use hence philosophy and logic
which have been studied for thousands of years with
the intensity of looking into a gun barrel you not holding
the trigger ( been there done that even tried to grab the gun
that really opened a trap door to my psyche let me tell you
he must have been a ****** we both got scarred and ran away )
so anyway the purpose of such effort is to justify
keeping mine in my pocket while you do whatever happens
to you i don't care as long as mine stays in my pocket
without guilt but i have to poke out my eyeballs for that
which really screws up the color     ( speaking of color )
if i wasn't so conditionally prejudice i'd really like to rock
with some black girls been working on the solution for 20 years
but still working on it

Long ago i saw you
Altogether      one      walking in my head
You were stabbing yourself in the arm
With a knife
I was eight years old
I loved you then      totally
Beyond conditioning      totally
Beyond words

To the big man i gave
Money, a smile, kindness
Civility
To the little girl i gave
Orders, a frown, rudeness
Denial
Of her Buddha nature
No different from the big man's

"To Think or Not to Think"

To think, or not to think, that is the question.
Shall we draw from out our thoughts the nature
Of the universe? Or shall we grant the
Pressing flow of life's instinctive drives to
Shape our world? Tis a riddle of some magnitude
More subtle than it seems. Our days pass on
And on from infancy and piece by piece
We do amass a store of knowledge so
Vast it does far surpass the threshold of
Our competence. But nature, or God, or
He or She or it, whom we know not of
Yet love and guess upon, has shaped a place
Beyond our conscious realm which treasures all
That's passed before us. And truly, this vaulted
Depth of being is a source of clear wisdom.
Yet the delicate threads of thought ascending
From this center often twist and turn and
Break upon encounter with the tumult
In our lives, and to purge this loss of knowing
Swells a force within out bodies which informs
Us of the impasse, called emotion. And though
Many are the pleasant ways this power
Blooms among us, so many are the painful
Ways this power gloom's among us.

To think, or not to think, that is the question.
Shall we draw from out our thoughts the nature
Of the universe? Or shall we grant the
Pressing flow of life's instinctive drives to
Shape our world? Tis a riddle of some magnitude
More subtle than it seems. Our days pass on
And on from infancy and piece by piece
We do amass a store of knowledge so
Vast it does far surpass the threshold of
Our competence. But nature, or God, or
He or She or it, whom we know not of
Yet love and guess upon, has shaped a place
Beyond our conscious realm which treasures all
That's passed before us. And truly, this vaulted
Depth of being is a source of clear wisdom.
Yet the delicate threads of thought ascending
From this center often twist and turn and
Break upon encounter with the tumult
In our lives, and to purge this loss of knowing
Swells a force within out bodies which informs
Us of the impasse, called emotion. And though
Many are the pleasant ways this power
Blooms among us, so many are the painful
Ways this power gloom's among us.

To think, or not to think, that is the question.
Shall we draw from out our thoughts the nature
Of the universe? Or shall we grant the
Pressing flow of life's instinctive drives to
Shape our world? Tis a riddle of some magnitude
More subtle than it seems. Our days pass on
And on from infancy and piece by piece
We do amass a store of knowledge so
Vast it does far surpass the threshold of
Our competence. But nature, or God, or
He or She or it, whom we know not of
Yet love and guess upon, has shaped a place
Beyond our conscious realm which treasures all
That's passed before us. And truly, this vaulted
Depth of being is a source of clear wisdom.
Yet the delicate threads of thought ascending
From this center often twist and turn and
Break upon encounter with the tumult
In our lives, and to purge this loss of knowing
Swells a force within out bodies which informs
Us of the impasse, called emotion. And though
Many are the pleasant ways this power
Blooms among us, so many are the painful
Ways this power gloom's among us.

**** you you justly
neutered mongrel and the hand
that is up your ****