Tuesday, November 22, 2016

An Enlightened Spiritual

Clear the flotsam in the Kundalini River with a sea breeze breath and downslope exhilaration.

Knots of popular conditioning are blown apart so softly love to love you.

The swamp of human fear and sadness is consumed by universal resting in the joy of as it is.

Becoming galaxies and superstring varieties of universes buddha no mind house of mirrors.

Slanted memories of castle times, beautiful days, and green grass tanglewood picnics never die but fade away as if they’re never born.

It's either fortune or truth. Red skies in the morning and night.

John Wayne and Monument Valley. Toshiro Mifune in Rashomon.

Now imagine the apocalypse to be one grand enlightenment.

Pure awareness being self-aware. That is all.

Wednesday, November 16, 2016

A Nonsecular Spiritual


Words signify what being is—

Being being everywhere and not a thought to think.

In Maya did non-doing do and history is written by the ones who think they did.


Dreaming dewdrop waterfalls,

An undertow of evolutionary and nonsecular intent,

Oceanic absolutely deep Marie, have mercy on my mine and yours.


Gelatin tornadoes of awareness,

On the altar of this consciousness, all dreams are sacrificed—

Every morning as the world wakes from its dream, all is momentarily enlightened.


The mountain that wasn't always is.

First is one. Second comes love. Lastly play it as it is—

Like losing the knowledge of being by dividing this knowledge as is into ten thousand thoughts.


Green drapes closed before a picture window—daydreaming a day in a life.

Monday, November 14, 2016

Peregrination in Causation

The woods is where the lines get wavy,
white pines rising from the hollow of dead leaves.
Afternoon November shadows cross the open meadow,
fresh horseshit on the old dirt road—

the golden path through mountain laurel,
a family walking by the drought-dry pond,
wide expanse of river bordered by a nuclear solar reflection,
ancient steps leading toward the way through cedars to intending sun.

Sunday, November 13, 2016

footnotes to a Meditation Spiritual

awareness is the unmanifest.
self-awareness is the manifest.
evolutionary intent is the magical space and time
between their spontaneity.

dreamtime

grab this dreamtime by its wilderness


in this dreamtime,
that awareness
spontaneously
evolutionarily
combusting
as this self-awareness.

The Missing Link is called surrender

as awareness is self-aware is
the biological function of this cell of consciousness


as it is in this body is it in that absolute intent

one being. a variety of conditioning. one way back

as awareness requires being to be self-aware, the absolute unknown becomes known to be this knowing.


self-awareness self-awareness self-awareness





Meditation Spiritual

I don't know but I've been told—
third eye is the universal eye
and self-awareness is the dream of Gods.

Tradition is teaching but being is the only knowledge
and soma is another word for kundalini
while the sunshine is within as is without.

Meditation is like being without the benefit of thought,
like the universe in the hands of an unknown absolute,
like this body of light is the only subject known

(serotonin smiles like dopamine transversing southern synapses
creating polliwogs of psychedelic gods arjuna ashwagandha san francisco
om namah shivaya, gone, gone, gone beyond, gone altogether beyond),

like the halo of a saint, like the aura of a buddha, self-awareness,
like the big bang is the western name for this awakening,
like the consciousness of people in their social conversations—

sweetness of being, spice of awareness, wood of breath.



Friday, November 11, 2016

Armistice Day Poem

As if one hundred years of age, 
mid-November leaves are clinging 
to the emptiness of branches.

Wind gusts of forty miles per hour is being forecast for today. 
And when that wind goes blowing,
leaves go dancing in its path without direct trajectory.

The world becomes a disarray of multitudinous
non-aerodynamic shapes of forms
with single intent.

Thus it is said
to love the archer
and understand the missing of the mark.

Wednesday, November 9, 2016

Dreamtime Spiritual


The universal when divided is a personal World at War.

Every conflict in the dreamstate is like a dreamsong calling on oneself
Return to Forever.

Science teaches certain facts of all of this but resting in nonconceptual
being is the only knowledge of just That.


Donald Trump is like a mirror of collective
psychokillers qu'est-ce que c'est.

The silver absurd waves of an infinite sea
crying out a wilderness of names.

Presence, spirit, consciousness and being. Universal, causeless
and spontaneous. Jesus and Zhuangzi. Absolutely.


There is no fixing the world. It fixes you.

Either dream the dream one loves to dream
or dream about that dream as in a mirror darkly.

following emotion
through some thought
filtering the light of joy
is resting in this being
one's absolution


White noise. The Avenues of Mountain Water. Rounded spirits of the glacier.

Tuesday, November 8, 2016

Concerto in Be and Symphony in See

if the self suffers as Self abides 
and there is no self but Self 
then being is the middleman 

Universal meditation like a wave intuiting the sea like trees embracing light like consciousness reflecting awareness. Sounding Hiawatha by the rapid waters of four corners. 

After hydrogen appears the big illusion. Self-inquiry reveals the liberating sudden emptiness of answering.

bodhisattva
may you see
you may dream
like a long gone
Buddha in love

as if from Colorado
Springs it's either
Pike's Peak or
Garden of the Gods

as a recluse
on Cold Mountain
while diving into
grapevine pond
each Sunday

Hallelujah Cathedral of our Mother! Every moment is as it was and as it should be. Unborn sudden free one.

transformation procreation
technology or deconstruction
one and none

Listen. the kiss of quantum whispers is always in the air.

when one's awakening
becomes quicker than
prior mind will process
please to follow love

Whatever this lifetime brings to the table is always being served.

London Calling
prophecy full moon

Blessed is the one who questions oneself. It's not easy being postmodern.

all spacetime is
oneself intending
self-awareness
because oneself

This is where I start accentuating nature as I question climate change myself. Spoiler: no one is expelled. Self-awareness is the paradoxical intent of god the self.

First learn to love everything. Then believe in nothing. Raising consciousness is like affectionate awareness as experienced. And silence is my equal love. 

There's nothing to fear but identity itself. Love is the nearest thing to an answer. Being is mostly misunderstood.

Starry Starry parts of a great black Whole.

Sunday, November 6, 2016

Eastern Standard Spiritual


Nine prophetic snow birds on bare ground.

The golden oak leaves of November burnishing the river.

Sea clouds, contrails, and the last clear skies of Daylight Savings Time.


Bare trees deconstruct the house of horrors.

As the abstract matrix of docks and boats are dropped on shore,
the current is open, spontaneous, and unified.

Now the silver waxing fleck of moon in sapphire sunshine afternoon!


If one tears the construct down, one will find oneself in being.

In that awareness reflected in this consciousness,
this so-called feeling called affectionate awareness,
is abiding absolution.

Unknown but never nothing, that is all.

Saturday, November 5, 2016

An Abstract Expressionistic Spiritual


Call it Absolute or God the Father. That's my natural state. Unknown.

The rope is binary. The snake is two.

Black wood. White paper. Red newspaper.


Wholly the sun or an absolutely unknowable black hole. Demonstrably this and that.

The black caws of a crow above a field of corn maiden light intent.

In the Cherry Blossom and Banana Day, there is no need to swallow any aspirin.


Desert falling rain clouds as seen through a bloodshot sandstone arch.

I was somewhere around the edge of Zuni when I saw the white buffalo.

And in the end, everything is black and white but never right or wrong.


Beneath a joker moon is walking thirteen dreams about a country nothing.


the way of the bird is the word
the moon jumped over the now
knowing nothing but feeling universally groovy

Thursday, November 3, 2016

An Eastern New England Spiritual


It is said nothing good comes from an east wind.

It is said to criticize a snake is to give oneself no rope.

It is said memory makes the world go round.


In fact scientific materialism has always been anti-science.

Everyone thinks to make a better illusion but only love will do.

Forget belief. Remember that unknown.


When I was a child, I thought the world of things, but now that I am so much younger, I am Unborn.

We run the necessary gauntlet of the world until one understands this inconceivably original innocence.

One only knows the dark by feeling. Any other kind of knowing than this affectionate awareness is merely memorable.


Listen to oneself.

Don't deface another.

Make no new belief.


Love compassion and forgiveness is one's personal best.

Wednesday, November 2, 2016

Self-Aware Spiritual


Absolution occurs in the universal only. The personal is fictional.

On its way to becoming self-aware, the universe crashes into Adam and Eve.

Self-awareness is like the natural current of a river and a person is like a backwater channel.


Imagining oneself to be universal is just acting natural.

Suddenly non-duality is binary: 01101001.

The mind appears to be molecular but self-awareness is organic.


There is a deep affectionate awareness underlying one and all from flower to the root.

And the god of original black whole awareness descends into the material to rise through evolutionary intent into the god of self-awareness.

Upon the clearing, the depth of sea reflects the space of sky.