Wednesday, August 27, 2014

the trickster pseutra

every time one calls it sage, 
trickster calls it parsley. 

tricksters never pay for what they say, 
but want some hypothetical other to. 

love and hate are just two sides of coyote's coin.

raven spreads its deconstruction ridge to ridge.

the merciless mother for the motherless child.

tricksters are generally thin-skinned 
in order to get under yours.

every time one calls it thyme, 
trickster calls it rosemary.

Monday, August 25, 2014

god story

my headless tale: 
i'm like deep sleep, 
that nothingness 
which isn’t even nothing, 
a pure subjective stateless state 
without an object to be known 
i’m absolutely pure awareness 
that unknowably unknown—
and out of nowhere is this
great spontaneous intent
to know i am, to know
i am that i unknown.

there is no madeleine of a cause,
no almond to begin some cracking of a nut,
no lemon tree so pretty to invoke this avocation,
nor a bowl of cherries to banana some absurdist apricot of plot.
there’s just this casablanca of the absolute
and its original intent
to know itself,
myself,
i.

what follows is a universal
consciousness of such 
complete imagination
conjuring the where,
when, what and who—
interspatial and
omnichronous,
transmanifesting and
panincarnational,
powered by a shot
of total love.

nuclear magicians
make an object out of nothing—
the rockbound salt of earth appears.
a genesis of wizards
sparks an evolutionary
process out of timelessness—
the central nervous system amplifies itself.
psychedelic sorcerers
convince the sharpest objects
to appropriate the subject—
people cut themselves to pieces.
knowing shamans show the mending way—

i am
this ‘i am’
that is absolutely i—
nothing but the known unknown,
nothing but pure natural awareness now...




Thursday, August 21, 2014

unbelievable signs pseutra

apparently true, but
mind makes
synchronicity out of timelessness,
reincarnation out of birthlessness,
and manifestation out of omnipresence.

synchronicity is only as true as time—
reincarnation is only as true as birth—
manifestation is only as true as doing.

the world is only as true as me.

out of nonduality
the mind creates duality
and marvels at those unbelievable signs of unity
appearing in its make-believe conception.

in other words,
synchronicity, reincarnation, and manifestation are
as true as the world and me appear to be.

moreover,
in the shaman wisdom play of universal consciousness,
one synchronizes, reincarnates and manifests…
when, who and what one renders.

Wednesday, August 20, 2014

Moptop Meditation

I close my eyes and feel an energy 
incommensurate with last night’s pizza 
or this morning’s English muffin. 
It’s like nineteen sixty-four is listening 
to real top forty radio and number one 
and two and three are Beatles tunes,
‘I Want to Hold Your Hand,’
‘She Loves You,’ ‘Please Please Me,’
and nothing that one knew before
consisted of such power and such glory
or such nuclear explosion
like those mushroom clouds in photographs
explaining why we practice duck and cover
in event of catastrophic war
but this is rock and roll,
this Shiva Shakti consciousness.
One knows no radio can generate
that burst of pure uncensurable radiance
but yes it’s all incoming waves instead.
They saturate the space around me
and this little lime-green plastic box
is just receiving them and amplifying
all-encompassing collective bliss itself:
“it's such a feeling that my love
I can't hide, I can't hide, I can't hide.”
Call it spirit, being, presence,
Krishna, Christ, this universal love
that makes the body and receives the song
it’s always singing you yourself are love,
"yeah, yeah, yeah!"

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

Epistle to Myself

Dear Son,
before knowing what you really are,
you need to know just who you think you are.
I thought I was a person.
I had a headful of beliefs and one of them was me.
That me was re-formulated in the Sixties,
so a lot it was anti-war, pro-human rights,
and wondered when it all went wrong in my America.
I studied post-graduate American history
and found it never was exactly right.
In one important way, this was my spiritual beginning;
deconstruction needs to start at home.
In time I saw that war and all injustices are not
a matter of my being right
and someone else’s being wrong,
but essentially the fact I think there is a me and my
and someone else in opposition as another.
This personal assumption I’m a person is
the one original division from which all
division finds its origin.
Every little thing a person does
to get ahead, assert itself, insinuate its way
to some position of importance is
the primal swamp of war and all injustice.
So as long as I am thinking I’m a person,
there are hostilities and their infringements.
But being on the never hand,
love, Aum.

Sunday, August 17, 2014

The River, a Road, and I

Every day I walk the road along the river, 
I want to walk the road along the river every day. 
Twenty years I’ve lived along this spacious river, 
in a less than thousand dollar rental 
in the middle of half-million dollar properties 
amid this precious priceless panorama.
Walking on this road I see a luminous mile of river,
and a mile of river is like ten thousand miles of heaven.
Ten thousand miles of heaven is something
no one ever knows and I see it every day.
What hand inserted me within this jeweled setting?
Across the river is an eastern white pine wilderness,
and in my heart is similar wilderness. Spirit talks to spirit.
There’s not a useless word within that conversation.
Here’s a road and there’s the river, and I’m the source of both,
although I’m never either. Not two, we say. Not two.

Wednesday, August 13, 2014

An Emotional Poem

Never fight a riptide;
heedfully observe it.
Then swim across and away,
returning to the ground.

Being isn’t rocket science.

Filtered by assorted lenses
of conditioned perpetuating
always transforming thought,
a spectrum of emotions
irradiates like a neon sign—
the heartbreak hotel.

Hence emotions are the light
of being, disturbed.
Accordingly emotions are existent
and undeniable.
Thus it’s just the thoughts
before emotions which are false.

In conceptual conceit,
it could be said
the absolute unknowable subjective
spontaneously intends
to know it is—
and this is that.

Don’t think about it.

This unfiltered energetic
raw existence is that knowing
and the only knowledge there is,
therapeutic, loving, wise or likewise.

This pure intensity 
'i am' is ground—
be

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

Supermoon and the Small Print

The Supermoon Is New And Guaranteed 
To Fill Your Sky With Cleanliness 
Located Next To Godliness 
Insuring Your Material Well-Being 
Until There’s No Material Left To Be! 
That you never were material 
is immaterial to this company. 
That the body’s like a wireless receiver 
and you’re the wave it amplifies 
is covered somewhere in this small print. 
Not reading your intuition is confusion 
to be suffered when mistaking 
such an object as the subject. 
Identity theft begins at home.

The way will let you know you've lost the way.
The way will let you know you are the way.
What one is is self-explanatory
as one distinguishes the what one isn’t.
Freedom's just another word
for nothing isn't my imagination.
Don’t mistake the tenor of the way
for some vehicle on the road.
Commercials pointing to the supermoon
are neither super nor the moon.
Supply's unlimited although this offer
may be withdrawn at any moment.
You are the wellspring of creation;
drink yourself responsibly.



Sunday, August 10, 2014

Known Unknown

Whatever I am, 
I’m not distressed, 
non-existent, 
nor unintelligent. 
Some call this ground 
awareness, but that’s 
as much a metaphor 
as the moon; 
abstract nouns 
are still concrete. 
I am unborn, 
undying, not two— 
that open space 
without a view.



Saturday, August 9, 2014

How Many Years Can a Mountain Exist

The world is like ten thousand words 
and all of them are lies if you believe them.
What is an orange when it’s not orange?
What is a person when it isn’t taking something personally?
Thoughts are either like delightful companions
or they’re enemies convincing one is two
and present is the past wishing it’s the future.
Keep your similes like friends and metaphors much closer.
Religion is the truth turned inside-out.
The truth is using words to point at what I really am.
The question to be asked is who am I
when I’m not thinking of an answer.
Thinking that I know is always overblown.
The answer, my friend, is being the unknown.