Monday, October 27, 2014

The Dimming of Our Golden Complex

The bottom line is light. Our evolution
whose art is all the universe is in
the business of enlightening intent.
The management forgets that data though.
Security becomes the number one
priority. Assembly lines are down—
but the building is protected by
the best insurance money buys. And meanwhile,
Research and Development is digging
for their treasures in a thing as far
as they can dig, until they see they’re digging
in their self, except they never realize
that’s their self—they think that that's a thing.
That's the funny thing about fool’s god.

Sunday, October 26, 2014

I Went to the Woods Because

Every element in the woods 
is responding to the light. 
Spontaneity is the only design. 
Branches grow to catch the rays 
appearing to have traveled since 
another branch grew in the way. 
It’s all about the love of leaves. 
Holy photosynthesis, 
have mercy on my eyes which long 
to look upon the artlessness 
of indigenous creation in 
this current draft of shade and sky. 
There’s nothing us trees don’t know. 
This is how awareness moves 
unattached to lines of thought. 
It’s why we go to the woods.

Saturday, October 25, 2014

Sam and Sara's Original Horror Show

When love mistook it was the mind, 
all kinds of hell broke out, you see. 
Well, love, it got real lost in all 
loose change and counterfeit three dollar bills 
and, well, I needn’t have to tell 
you it’s a god-damned sin, my friend, 
a love-forsaken bloody shame. 
It’s like some crosscut saw becomes 
an eye and all the sights turned out 
divided. I’m not talking long 
division but the slow and violent 
sort. It makes you sick to think 
of it. Like everything was either 
this or that and if you wasn’t 
on the side it occupied, 
well you was on the other side, 
and please believe me, that’s no scenic 
point of view to be. In fact, 
it’s all-out war. And not the worldly 
only, small potatoes too, 
just people being people, taking 
everything so personal. 
It’s quite the horror, don’t you think? 

Friday, October 24, 2014

all is self-inquiry already pseutra

seven billion selves suffering to know oneself
in seven billion welcome different loving ways,
all shimmering facets of the one diamond way.

nothing is ever wrong because
every apparent self is intending toward thatself
by following the love of oneself
in the best way imaginable.

the best way imaginable isn't
'the ends justify the means' or vice versa
but the hidden realization
the means are the ends *and* vice versa.

once seeing
'for I to know anything, I must first know this I,'
then any meaning of the universe is obviously
intent to know That, I.

Wednesday, October 22, 2014

Swan Song

At the wild mouth of the Merrimack, 
I pivot north to rove the shore. 
My Atlantic is quite pacific today; 
I feel my lake-like waves advancing 
like the white caps on a pond 
that seems like adolescent yesterday 
although it’s fifty years in memory now.
I didn’t know I was the lake back then,
and when I dived into the water
from the Dubois diving board,
I was really diving in myself.
This later insight arrived in meditation.
Earlier this morning I saw a swan upriver
floating on the slow outgoing tide.
I felt its graceful curve of neck in mine
as I turned to watch it pass, a brilliant
arc of white within the silvery mist.
Our silence watches all of this and knows
that none of this is what I am;
space-time is a single dream with infinite
dimensions in unfathomable intent.
Listen, the swan is going out to sea.

Wednesday, October 15, 2014

the heart of fall

leaves fall. 

fall is transformation. 

transformation is the time it takes to blink. 

blink is that great unknown i am which mind attempts to freeze in space and time. 

time is an interval between those transformations which occur in cycles like the sunrise or full moon.

moon is pointing to a wave.

wave is emptiness.

emptiness is wave. 

Tuesday, October 14, 2014

He’s Walt Whitman; Who Am I?

The absolute unknowable
is such the subject there’s no object
in that absolute subjective.

Since one can only know an object,
the absolute subjective doesn’t
even know itself. There’s nothing

but the empty mirror of an eye
with not even nothing to be seen—

there’s absolute intent to know oneself.
Don’t you have that selfsame yearn to know yourself?
This universe is being subdivided for exactly that.

Have you reckoned with reckoning much?
Have you practiced to know the false as false?
Have you felt so proud to see you’re not the process

but the process is intent to know yourself?
Stop acting yin and yang and in that freeing
one possesses knowing of one’s being.

Thursday, October 9, 2014

Mind’s Creation Isn’t Really Two

A blackbird on a live thin wire is vibrant 
with its Kwai Chang Caine Kung Fu. 
A great blue heron, like some prehistoric 
statue, is standing in the shallows that ensue. 
That one big bang is a brainstorm 
of the mind conjecturing this two. 
Which came first, the question or the answer? 
It's true the great blue heron isn’t really blue. 
Thoughts of fish begin to stir within 
an energy of water made anew. 
Again, the great blue heron isn’t really blue. 
The fork runs away with the spoon 
and the fool jumps over the moon, mon dieu! 
One last time, the great blue heron isn’t really blue.

Wednesday, October 8, 2014

And Every One a God

It appears to be a messy process—
to one identifying with the process. 
The Big Bang explodes like an awfully great notion. 
Stars collide like Bogart and Bacall. 
The earth erupts in a carnival of volcanic flames 
and breaks apart in workaday tectonic shifts. 
Hurricanes, tornadoes, waterspouts, oh my! 
And now, Neanderthals are clubbing like Neanderthals.

Everyone is acting like a god! 
But that’s the final measure of creation, 
last procedure in this grand holistic process. 
Evolution isn’t fundamentally pointless; 
fourteen billion years of cellular division 
arrives within this central nervous system 
suddenly now capable of self-awareness. 
So stop this moment to reflect within—

one is 
that great unknown 
making itself 
be known, 
for knowing is being 
which mind divides 
in order to know 
its self.

Sunday, October 5, 2014

A Prayer for the True Fourth God

Three blackbirds aren’t enough. 
Without a fourth, direction is completely incomplete. 
The west is ceaselessly lost in trinity. 
And one may never know oneself 
without those ice floes of true north. 

O sacred vase and holy sake cup,
O Kachinas standing on the surface of a book case,
O blue guitar, O cactus plant, O radio,
without you i would never know
that what i am is nothing with potentiality
for everything within my own intent
to know my own unknowable existence.

O Parent, Child, and Holy Realizational Intent,
please accept these great ten-thousand objects
as another God within your sacred pantheon,
and let us pray the process is complete
and now and everlastingly perpetual.

Where the mind’s objectification is a vital operation
and the world is just the function run away within itself.
For hell is only heaven and samsara is nirvana—
so chop God and carry my true self.

Wednesday, October 1, 2014


(there's this 
kinesthetic feeling 
like looking at thought 
with intuition 

there’s this soothing 
of yin 
and yang 

there’s this blissful quivering 
in intuitively assimilating 
the visceral universality of 
what I am) 

permeating all of this is formless 
unknown potentiality—