31 July 2014

Two Hundred and Sixty-Four


These thoughts are for those gifted with the eyes to see and ears to hear, each in their own way.
For the true seer, there is no dogma but the formulas of one’s own making,
And then only for the briefest of intractable whiles.
As Thomas Hobbes penned:
And the life of man, solitary, poore, nasty, brutish, and short.

* * * *
Cast into the whimsical winds of time,
You discern your subjective personal universe
As the biological imperative of the genetic lottery ordains.
Such is the nature-nurture of free will.
Best wishes, Pilgrim.

* * * *
You really want some ghastly Armageddon?
Well, just keep on doing what you are doing.

* * * *
Let go of it before it lets go of you.

* * * *
Nothing is new under the sun.
Nothing is old, either.

* * * *
And behind every face eternity ever cast,

* * * *
Each must awaken very much alone
To the reality of the eternal absolute within.
Anything less is only the idolatry of form and concept.

* * * *
The unknown is not in any way bound to function
Within the confines of any given puddle of consciousness.
It is consciousness that must expand beyond its myriad limitations.

* * * *
The human paradigm is a ceaseless array of stories of every sort.
Perceptions, all partial, incomplete, steeped in the ephemeral well of imagination,
Is not everything more than a little hackneyed, more than a little passé at this point in the human epic?
Have not we done everything all but inconceivable times beyond counting?