09 June 2014

One Hundred and Seventy-Seven


As doubt seeps through the many cracks of the dike you have in mind erected,
You can run, but you cannot hide; like it or no, you are embarked upon an odyssey within.
You have the potential to be a Buddha, a Christ, a whatever-you-want-to-call-it,
If you can just get past the countless limitations of idolatry and dogma.

* * * *
Take away the basic necessities, the basic entitlements,
And you will quickly learn how civilized
Your fellow man really is.

* * * *
What words can more than vaguely describe
That which is prior to consciousness,
That which is prior to perception,
That which is prior to sound,
That which is prior
To all illusions
Inspired by the senses.
Be still, be absolute, be totality.
What greater truth can you possibly be?

* * * *
It is all an illusion, a dream,
Not just the parts you do not like.
You cannot cherry-pick truth.

* * * *
If there is any movement in mind,
Illusion and delusion are likely afoot.

* * * *
In the grand scheme of consciousness.
It is really not your consciousness,
Nor mine, nor his, nor hers, nor its.
All life forms exhibit this consciousness
In whatever way nature and nurture allows.
None are truly greater, nor lesser, to any other.
All are equal players in totality’s quantum play within.

* * * *
Nobody is into you like you are, and why should they be, how could they be?
We are all nothing more than self-absorbed reflections crashing upon the shore.
Consciousness playing out the absurdity of attachment to one this, that, or another.