Bring forth your
whole self.
I do not mean
pronounce your name,
show your form,
or announce the game you play,
but the being that is
without death;
the blank page that was before
the writings of mother and father
graced its white
humility.

Show me this.

It may seem a difficult task,
yet it is done without being asked,
no trifle nor trouble,
and once completed,
seems to have been done before
you even set about
to begin.

For the self is selfless
and gives its isness freely,
thus leaves no mark,
holds no home,
sits not stark,
does not roam,
from where/when/why/how it already is.

abound with fruits
are flowers;
are seeds.
black and warm,
with no need
for audio/visual,
hands-on learning techniques.

a fire is simply
burning,
yet is not itself when so.

Show me this.

Will we ever watch
the cool of a still surface,
or be forever

ecstatic
in the glory
of ripples?

The marks left by stars
last only as long as
the dust stays hot.

I will be the heat
and follow down the paths
walked by water,
by lightning!
Up from the roots
to shoot through the trunk
and out into the tips
of the tips
of the split points
where the leaves meet the sky;
and i'll wonder why..

Is the ocean really
so humble?
The rivers flow downhill
because they're trying to cool
the sun inside,
at the very bottom;
the ocean is only the atmosphere
of a silent surface.

I will dwell there now,
until the marks left by stars
are no longer white,
no longer blue,
no longer to be seen,
and i will follow the heat
into the dark.

at least tell me to
*******, it would be better
than this, your silence




(lies, all of it)

******* hands
keeping things
from being free
let them be

shut up
there's enough already
to listen for six days steady

maybe sleep
is more realistic than I think it is
maybe
i'm already there

wake up
there's no more in dreams
than what you've already seen

go forth

burning the candle
from both ends makes twice the flame
and twice the shadow

naked laughter is the best thing i've ever seen
and the sky
ripe with lights
from my dreams
seems
to team
even when empty

Left to their repose
the grass blades seek shelter
under the sun
it is without effort
that they themselves
are free

Let It Be