cold poem 1

I Is the Witness of Am

All beings are being but only the human being after forgetting being knows being. Such is the magic of the material world.

If to love being is to be, and being is the unknown knower knowing, then I am that.

Let it be and realize being is a concept too.

The love of the world and its experience is the mishandling of the material as being.

Loving being is nothing personal.

Just be and love this being. No one ever knows when this primal fact will merge with the absolute unknown.

In other words, the concept of me is, of course, never there when the primal concept of being is being seen through.

If not being, not thought. Not the experiencing. The knowing.

Being is all of space-time but knowing is gone gone, gone beyond, gone altogether beyond.

Deep sleep disproves every state of dreaming.

The person is to the world as being is the universe. spontaneous combustion.

Being is new but not real. Only I is real.

Maharaj says to "put your money away and take my water."

Follow the river to its source and there you shall see there is no water.

There is nothing higher than being and in being there is no concept such as being higher.

Towel and Tool

Indeed, 

there's nothing to do—

but dropping that thought is 

the first thing to do.

Drop thought and rest 

in the unrivaled knowledge of being.

The only spiritual knowledge 

one needs,

love this being—

and form no new religion.

On Reflexive Speaking

I am what I eat. And I eat I am. Tao is as Tao conceives. Wave or particle. Yin or yang.

One is mortal because one is immortal. My concepts pass because I'm not a concept. Dreams fade because I'm not a dream. Follow the fractals.

As the world becomes clear, you will be disturbed. As you see through the clarity, you will be amazed. As you shall witness all as sovereign.

Paranoia. compassion. eyewitnessing. In other words, compassion trumps paranoia. These days, it's right before my eyes.

The I-witness is silent on such matters. It's like an almost desert dry full moon tonight. Listen to coyotes howl in Cleveland.

Deep sleep is a name for where I come from. I don't know about you but I go home every night. 2016 might be a sight. but look out for 2020!

When Consciousness speaks to Consciousness, only Consciousness can translate that to your language.

Read words as words. Let words rest in being. Translate rested words to mind. This is called Reflexive Reading.

“It is something like a deer taking rest in the shadow of a tree. The color of the shadow is neither light nor very dark, this is the borderland.”

Chop Chop

Somewhere on the Bay of Fundy, 

high tide is rising to 

the height of fifty feet 

or more. 

On the other hand,

I’ve never seen a land

as flat as that around

I-40 on the Texas Panhandle.

This Sunday morning I’m at home

in the middle of a summer weekend

full of coups, mass murder, and more

political 3-ring circus acts.

Still, I know there’s nothing

to be done each morning

but wake up

and swallow water.

Sans Everything

As the unknown knows

the unknown,

there is a knowing.

This knowledge is called being—

I am.

As the knowing

doesn't know—

this is called the world.

And as the unknowing knowing

suddenly knows,

all’s the unknown…

The Pendulum Swings from 0 to i

1.

The world begins

when one believes in two.

The world will end

when one sees through this two

to no particular point of view.

2.

Survival is the name

of the evolutionary game.

But being unborn

is the crown of creation.

sumsara

all of this

is but

the sweet nothing

whispered by

that

i am

that says—i am

but don't be mistaking

my word for

my self

yet every summer

the word of spring

begins to eat itself

still

the world is only my word

being is my voice—

I am the silence

Catawba Aura Sky

Following the Black Mountains of North Carolina on the Blue Ridge Parkway,

there’s a place they call Craggy Gardens where Catawba Rhododendron bloom in June at 6000 feet above sea level.

The colors lilac-purple to magenta reddens the rugged landscape.

From out of the deep eastern valley arises this universe of phenomenal irregularity in tone and occultation.

And from out of this arises the silent watchful flowers of indigenous and everlasting Issa

saying unto all—no one comes to the source but by this peak.

Summer Paraverse for Ma

Van Morrison sings about the youth of ten-thousand summers. This is what my mother felt within herself despite her 92nd year. I know this to be true because I asked her, and I asked her because I know this to be true.

She would tell whomever were to listen never to grow old. By this she meant the physical decline that happens to the body. But inside she knew the spirit of mid-June.

I could never speak to her about some nondual truth of universal being or absolute awareness, and so I’d just remind her of that inner self when she would talk to me about her growing old.

And she knew it for a fact because it is, in fact, the only knowledge that there is. When she was 93 her body died, but that youth of every summer still remains undying and unborn.

Myth and Manifestation. Being and Awareness.

I Am!

The evolutionary self-reflexive

universe of space-time is

the story of the light

knowing it’s the light.

That.

The light is

the dark source

knowing it’s the dark source.

An Alien Explains Its Poetry

My words will never tell the truth but only point the way. Because these words are not concerned with some belief but experience itself, such words appear to people of the earth as esoteric.

That said, Universal Consciousness is King, Queen, the only knowledge, everything. It does not rise from some material world of body and its brain. Such a scientific materialistic theory has not been proved and never will be.

Instead, one knows the world arises from this Consciousness and truly understanding this in a nonconceptual and experiential way is called Nirvana, the Kingdom of Heaven, or just As It Is.

Sometimes you know this truth and sometimes you think you don’t.

june tantra

look

the animal

shapes

of things

so long

division was

an ancestral distilling

pure affectionate awareness

keep coupling your core

wholly connected

to intentional

desire

The Political Brain

poem: As the reptilian brain revolts against the new limbic order, Neo holds up a lotus. Smile!

commentary: A peculiar political analysis of 2016 using the three sections of the brain: the reptilian survivalist forces of trumposaurus revolting against the new world politically correct (versus religiously correct) judgmental order of the limbic mind advancing ALL civil rights while creating a new humanist 1% oligarchy, while the nondual buddha of the neo-cortex sees through the matrix and holds up the silent flower of wisdom and beauty. Mahakasyapa can only smile.

Ursa Parkway

In the morning of the third day on the great blue ridge, we saw a bear.

It was slowly crossing from the dark side of the road to sunshine,

like memory giving way to now. I stopped the car to take a picture.

When I started it again, the bear observed the sound and saw whatever

cars appear to be to it, and spun around and slowly galloped, bounded,

skipped away, whatever word describes that certain movement of a bear,

its arms when standing now becoming legs—then stopped and turned

as if to say so follow me already. All this happened in a few fast seconds.

Then it crossed and watched us pass from shelter of a roadside thicket.

Thoughts cannot describe experience, its eyes were shining back at us,

but words can tell us pay attention to the splendid serendipity of the way.

Rhapsody in Who: Quoting Nisargadatta

I am beyond consciousness and, therefore, in consciousness I cannot say what I am. Yet, I am.

In whatever role I may appear and whatever function I may perform—I remain what I am: the 'I am' immovable, unshakable, independent.

All is done to please the one source and goal of every desire, whom we all know as the 'I am'.

I am what I am, neither with form nor formless, neither conscious nor unconscious. I am outside all these categories.

I do nothing, nor is anything done to me. I am what I am and nothing can affect me. I appear to depend on everything, but in fact all depends on me.

All you can tell about the person is not the self, and you can tell nothing about the self, which would not refer to the person.

I am entirely unimagined. I am what I am, not identifiable with any physical or mental state.

I know what I am, a center of wisdom and love, an atom of pure existence. All subsides and the mind merges into silence. 

three thoughts

the mind

is

a dividing

tool.

if you play

in its world,

expect

to be

cut.

but love is indivisible.

love is manifestation

before the freeze

and after the boil

and water water everywhere

and not a drop to think.

dropping thinking

is

another thought

but seeing through

a thought

is

what i am,

that is,

i am.

This before Bliss

Enlightenment is

the greatest story ever told.

Such a concept is required

before moving beyond the conceptual.

Like handholds on a precipice—

so myth

precedes

the land of love

forgiveness

and compassion.

The New Poetics

Poetics 101: speak as if each word is first and last.

Poetics 102: to say the unthinkable.

Poetics 103: look out for nihilism or irony; pay attention to bliss.

Poetics 104: actualize mythology.

Poetics 105: describe samsara through compassionate wisdom.

Poetics 106: create performance poetry and extempore commentary.

Poetics 107: utilize setting as mandala of wisdom.

Poetics 108: see above is not exactly parallel to below.

Poetics 109: know birth is always sudden.

Poetics 110: the truth is in the listener already, write the white light of Tao.

Poetics 111: don’t trust illusion.

Poetics 112: understand emotional thought flares are little deaths.

Poetics 113: realize birth and death is in the world apparently but not in myself.

Poetics 114: do not use illusion for profit, the definition of black magic.

Poetics 115: bliss is openly loving, forgivingly free, compassionately one.

Poetics 116: being is empty and wise.

Poetics 117: sing what the voice has said and speak to what the song has sung.

Paradigm: Poem and Commentary

After more than thirteen billion miles

they finally reached the sea—

not knowing what the sea would be

they think it’s just a bigger desert.

Evolutionary self-awareness, or enlightenment, is not only inevitable, it’s here. Thinking otherwise is the only issue.