29 November 2014

Four Hundred and Twenty


Those who long for mortal immortality live in dread of the shadow of death.
Though many are called, few ever die to time, few live eternally free.
What is called death is merely returning to the quantum womb,
Oblivion’s potential to arise into whatever adventure calls.

* * * *
We are all dust in the wind in some who-knows-when tomorrow.
Worms' meat in some moment, some modern time or another.
It is really just a matter of who is going to bury or burn who,
Assuming, of course, there is even a pound of flesh to find.

* * * *
Those who will not, or cannot abide
By Mother Nature’s rules in whatever niche is offered,
Must necessarily change or perish.

* * * *
It is what it is.
Nothing anyone anywhere has ever said or done,
Is saying or doing, or will ever say or do,
Will ever change it even one iota.

* * * *
By whatever name you may choose to call it,
This essential nature is what you are,
What you have always been,
What you will ever be.

* * * *
To believe awareness
Is attached to any concept or form
Is but vain arrogance born of human limitation.

* * * *
The manifest dream is a grand feast,
And at its source is that which is absolute.
And when you are stuffed to the point of bursting,
Self-discovery is the final desert, the nightcap, so to speak.

* * * *
One’s peace of mind toward fellow human beings
Might well be better served if you gave them the same attention
You would ants aimlessly crisscrossing below, or birds flitting about above.

Four Hundred and Nineteen


The most majestic tree,
Really no greater than a simple blade of grass.
The most ornate flower, really no more profound than a modest weed.

* * * *
Awareness is the one and only real you prior to consciousness.
Consciousness is nothing more than imagination
In the playground of the mind.

* * * *
If you enjoy and embrace the worldly world,
There are an endless number of distractions offered.
If not, well, you are either in for a bumpy ride,
Or on your way to becoming very still.

* * * *
Every streaming moment the quantum matrix
Vibrates itself indivisibly, immortally anew
Within and without the one and only you.

* * * *
Of what need does pure consciousness
Have for any thing, or any other?
Freedom is without compare.

* * * *
It is a god-eat-god world.
Chew well.

* * * *
From formlessness you arise,
To formlessness you will return,
To what you have ever really been.

* * * *
If this dream is happening,
Then what dream is not possible
In the grand theater of infinity’s rainbow?

* * * *
You can be as small-minded as everyone else
When you forget you are awareness, not the body.
Samsara is an enduring 24/7/365-all-your-life antagonist.

Four Hundred and Eighteen


Why should you not love your Self with every fiber of your beingness?

* * * *
This very moment is as inexplicable as every other moment that has ever been or will ever be.

* * * *
Pay close attention: time does not exist, and the nowness streams quickly eternal.

* * * *
Political expediency is about keeping what you really think to yourself.

* * * *
And what is it to which you think you are waking up?

* * * *
Another monkey mimicking intelligence.

* * * *
So many over-reactions.

* * * *
Vanity gone wild.

* * * *
You, the Great Nada, its Self.

* * * *
No effort required to be all you truly are.

* * * *
The eternal life is a state of beingness, not becomingness.

* * * *
The world that mind built is interesting and entertaining, but to what end?

* * * *
And what is the point of all this passion for what is really nothing more than a brief dream?

* * * *
So many things you could have, would have, said and done so differently.

* * * *
To live to forever be the same, why would you do that?

Four Hundred and Seventeen


Perhaps god is here for the same reason you are.
Wine, women, and song are not necessarily just mortal fare.
Even the deities of olden times enjoyed altered states of consciousness
In the grand once and awhile of the given here and now.

* * * *
Dwell in that stillness, that awareness, that timelessness,
From which the dream of consciousness rises and falls.
Imagination, as present as it seems, is not eternal life.

* * * *
Everything you think is ultimately an assumption.
The challenge is to fabricate as few as possible.

* * * *
I am you, and you are me,
And together we, each in our own unique way,
Sing the song of godness.

* * * *
Who was that masked
Infant … child … adolescent … adult?
One in the same, no doubt.

* * * *
All the attachments,
All the things,
All the memories,
All the relationships,
All the this’s, all the that’s.
What weights chaining the spirit,
Distractions from the ever-present awareness
In which eternal life abides.

* * * *
The ever-changing mortal frame
Is a mobile unit in which energy transmutes.
The mind is a neuron matrix in which imagination frolics.

* * * *
Revolutions are brought about by those whose disenfranchisement
Creates the will to seize what they feel is rightfully theirs
Through whatever means the given time allows.