29 November 2014

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.