23 November 2014

Four Hundred and Two


This garden world, this universe, this creation, this great nada of a dreamtime,
Is going to do just fine without its two-legged, absurdly estranged cancer.
Consciousness is really nothing more than a manic flash in the pan.

* * * *
So many in these modern times
Seem more interested in spending their existence
Staring mindlessly for hours and hours into one screen or another
Rather than engage in the bona fide virtual reality
Playing every moment in their minds.

* * * *
If this astounding, inexplicable mystery is happening,
Then is not just about anything a possibility
Out there in the universal vastness?
And all of it and beyond, you.

* * * *
Forget everything.
Dismantle the conditioning,
The attachment to any conceptual weavings.
Become that which has no boundaries,
That which discerns no duality,
No within, no without.
No inner, no outer.
No this, no that.

* * * *
See what cannot be seen,
Hear what cannot be heard,
Smell what cannot be smelled,
Taste what cannot be tasted,
Feel what cannot be felt.

* * * *
Not likely any given middleman
Will ever direct you towards the truth
Without exacting one pretty penny or another.

* * * *
What is organized religion
But bits and pieces of prodigious wisdom
Slathered with meaningless portions of ludicrous delusion.