Set your bundle down
Satori in an instant
Pick your bundle up

It's seeping under my skin
Dancing in nothingness between
Flakes
Irreplaceable beauty of harmony
Even with disgusting oily
Flakes
Feels like a drunkard
Living the spring in fall
While it's falling flakes
Flakes of life, flakes of distress
Disappearance of a mandatoriness
It's seeping under my skin
The toxicity of uncertainty
Blindingly bright enlightening
Yet destructively disappointing
Like a cold shower of frustration
Like a suppressed determination
Fakely exhilarating
But depressing in practice
A resonating unreliability
They itch
Stalk you to death
Stuck in a death bed
Going eternally downhill
Still though they're
Still beautiful
Dancing among the flakes

Caught in a trap
Between thoughts and feelings
Finding both false

How to find the truth
The space beyond self-justification
To be at peace

Can I surrender my power
Can I become vulnerable and open
Fears arise and the dance begins again

I am observing the world

whose very act of existing

has made us claim

that it is the only world to exist.



I am observing

the shadows of the sun

when suddenly the monkey

appears again, opening

that window

below my language.



It picks up all my words

and chews them, only to spit

them out while producing

a grotesque sound of pleasure.



I’ve seen this monkey many times,

he comes from the world within

that is populated by innumerable monkeys.



They all seek the only thing

they claim is real: monkeyhood.

Monkeyhood is hidden

deep in their jungle,

it can be eaten, soft caramel-like

substance that it is.



But only a few monkeys are able

to reach this sacred core.



The monkeys that visit me

are those that for whatever reason

have stopped seeking monkeyhood.



They would rather appear

unannounced in this world,

to taste a few fragments of illusion –

as I believe they once called it.



I sit watching the shadows of the sun,

here below the clouds while I describe

the indistinct quality of being alive.

I am always looking
Looking for that permanent high
Trying to end my anger
I will keep looking
Chasing enlightenment
Chasing enlightenment
For the rest of my life
I will be looking
I will be chasing enlightenment
Until I die
Just keeping hope
And thanking my mom
Thanking both my parents
But I will be searching
Like a detective
Hoping to find the
Meaning of life.

Soft focus is not hocus pocus
It is relaxing the locus of concentration
But staying aware of the state of mentation

It is breathing free
With perfect clarity

It is falling asleep
But waking up to dream

It is forsaking worry
For a flurry of focal points
Getting blurry between the joints

So sink into the fabric of space
Erase the stitches of time
Wrap up in this infinite quilt
Guilt-free equanimity
Silt free liquid purity
Rest in perfect surety
Divest your uncertainty
There is no space ‘twixt you and me
Only particles we cannot see

I've been beaten, I've been bruised.
I've been loved and I've been used
But through it all I kept my head held high.
Looking for the bright side
But every time it seems to show,
I'm too scared of letting go!
So I run and I hide.
All these feelings inside.

It's time to break the pattern,
And let them see.
All the beauty within me!

Chorus:
Gotta let go,
Gotta let me know
This isn't me.
You know I try to
Let loose
But what happens when they see
The real me.

I'm no good at rejection
So I never aim too high.
Scared of my own reflection
Am I losing my mind.

No this can't be it
This isn't life
Got to get off this ride.

I'm onto all this.

My perspective is in alignment
I hear the trees and feel those
Who watch over us and whisper prose
That many fail to notice.

I live in a parallel netherworld
Filled with strange, glorious music
Where time and everything you see
Just ain't what it seems.

It's really very strange
Watching everyone pass by
In slow motion monotone
As I glide through the sky.

I guess enlightenment is for the unenlightened.

Some will always be children 
And for them stories always simple
Little and Big, White and Black, Good and Evil 
Them and Us . . . plain and simple

The wind is full of shallow nothings
Drought, fire, vermin, climate, poverty
Rustling the leaves with a gossip
Deep roots will never hear