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Owen Phillips Jun 2013
Are you with me
       or are you
       having trouble
       seeing my purpose?
I can tell you I'm with you there
But of course I am, I'm addressing you
And until you prove me wrong, you're not separate from me.
What are we each doing here,
Experiencing this mutual relationship?
It's meaningless, I'll leave this laying in the rain to wash away
It's unimportant
I remember when I ended the world
And the rain began to fall and I
Crawled on the ground for my scraps of physical communication with you
And for the first time accepted their destruction as inevitable and inconsequential
But the rain eventually cleared
And didn't float our tents away to Valhalla with us inside
And I found my notebook,
Safe and dry
One of God's messengers had taken care of its safety
When the first raindrop fell
So I looked upon your faces in amazement and bliss
Every set of eyes has such radiance
And it seemed to have tendrils growing directly from me
10 June 2013
Owen Phillips May 2013
Summoned by winds of continuous change
We marched half-sleeping through May
Resting on private lands up high in trees we hide ourselves from prying eyes
Beside ourselves, we watch the ways we emulate our idols
And the winds show us paths to our own identities

We identify with the water
You drink us and we become one
Beneath the sun we vibrate faster, further, floating up to see the stars closer, turning down to see the total landscape
Cooling off so we can race back toward the earth and join with her
A union that knows no bounds
She is where we've spent a billion years
And she will die one day
And so will we be water no more
Split into hydrogen and oxygen
We will float through the galaxy
Engulfed in nothingness
In search of new planets
Where we can drink creation anew
*Un-differentiated tissue, from William S. Burroughs' *Naked Lunch*
Owen Phillips May 2013
This trail leads to the animal crossing
It fails to accommodate intrepid adventurers,
Bushy tailed explorers, mountain climbers,
Talkers to squirrels and chewers of pine pitch.
The divine medicine denies us the headspace to believe we're really dead,
The reclined estrogen felt good against twenty million years of insecurity
Golden-layered, factually flawed
It lay exposed for decades
Rusting innards and misfiring sparks
None of the heavy equipment does what it says
Robot arms move with intensity
No programmer yet programs tenderness
The limiting factor has always attracted the acting crowd
Always desperate for theatrical work they magically appear
When it's clear that they're needed
But heed the warnings, they're known to be cheaters; the people who say so could also be wife-beaters
No need to wait for a stereotype
Follow the one you haven't lost touch with
Well I actually wrote it at 1:21 AM but I was in bed about to sleep so it is more appropriately grouped with the other PM poems than the AM ones... Maybe I should come up with another way to designate them, since I'm so often writing after midnight.
Owen Phillips May 2013
Love's the base line
Let us be and what would we lack?
Love's no elixir nor intoxicant
Love's the pure undifferentiated state of joy
Love's where we go when we let go of ourselves
And we let go of our games and our desires
And our pasts and our futures and our fates and destinies
Love is tasting good food and chewing till it's paste and sitting back and smiling feeling it energize every cell
Loves hoping everybody wins the poetry slam
Because what good would it be to be in it for yourself
For one person
Against the universe?
None of us are opposed in love,
We are the unbroken chain
But every link is not connected to just
The link in front and the link behind
It is connected to every link at once
It is connected to every link ever forged with the blacksmith's love
The chain doesn't draw a line between us,
It wraps around us and ties us together
Oh love is all I knew before this poem
And love is the effortlessness of every word
Because only Nothing could be easier than love
And love is to BE nothing
Because who could resist such loving completion?
Nothing is the soul of the universe
And anything at all is Nothing but Love
Love is finishing my speech and sitting down because I'd rather hear yours
Owen Phillips May 2013
You can obviously see that I'm
Under the influence, writing about my enemies
Trying to find a friend to meet
You can see the joy in me
We can love each other freely
Nothing stands between us
You're on the other side of a mountain
But our mouths are touching,
We are nothing
I'm coming to see you,
eventually I'll be you
Starring in a play you're directing
About me inventing you

We're all scared of dying,
But then we wish we could,
We're all afraid our love won't be enough,
But then it is.
I missed a chance
And I danced on your feet
But we'll always die together when we meet.
Owen Phillips May 2013
Let's give form to a thought at the back of my head
And let it grow, let it drag me away from my body
Let it stretch me out into the past and future
So I lose sight of what IS
Which is here, which has always been
It speaks to itself, playing that it can't know
For we know that all that we can know is but
Difference from Oneness,
And we know that inside ourselves
We are each other, nothing separates us, no,
We haven't yet identified ourselves definitively but we are
Stuck inside the ego while we play the game of time
But we're not going to get rid of it
We'll need it if the Saucers come
Or dead men rise to eat our brains,
But it remains, and as it should
A dormant tool that reawakens
Whenever the need emerges

Why not take these forms that start to rise and amplify themselves in feedback loops
******* them on the page and leave them there,
Outside the body,
Use that action as the symbol of our casting out, not our denial but our separation
From the notions that emerge of perceived
Injuries from outside parties;
All the pain is caused within
And comes from giving shelter to those forms that form their feedback loops
Demanding our attention, and insisting we'll be incomplete
Until we can fulfill their fantasies of pasts and futures
Owen Phillips May 2013
Where do good ideas come from?
They shrivel away from the hypnotizing light of a virtual socialite
They grow toward the sun out above the clouds
Ever-present from birth to death,
They're the latest permutations of the same explosion that started that
Fusion core up there running
Running without stopping for a billion years
Fueling the experiments of life that consciousness spontaneously manifested
Across the planets
Each a test of a different vibrational frequency
Incompatible with one another but coexistent
Mercury's barren silver mines
And the Venusian valleys
And the regal red sands of Mars
And Jupiter's infinite wisdom and so forth to the edge of the Oort Cloud
And the green and blue ecology of earth, the waterworld
Where the entire drama we've seen so far has been carried out
The audience has grown in appetite
And doesn't always see that it too is the performance
But the unwilling blindness is all part of the sublime suspense of this subcosmic game
The planetary curiosity,
Can we make it? Would it matter?
We'll never truly die when we forget time
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