burn this poem

anew 

declaration 

awareness 

not belief 

love 

not politics 

wisdom 

not knowledge 

deconstruction 

not nihilism 

transformation 

not monuments 

The Crystal Peaks of Ten Thousand Ways

There's a new myth written every hour. This one says a recluse doesn't avoid people. Hermits avoid one person. That which looks like me.

Sure, there's a con-artist born every minute on the way. But there's only one way. That is my way.

Listen. I add my poem to the cairn. Basically there's view and source. And one step at a time.

Only follow this way until you see your own sign. Mountains and rivers. Sunrise sunset. Consciousness speaks to the child.

Real deconstruction isn't nihilistic. True north isn't east or west. Go visualize the sun.

I am hiking further lucid dreaming consciousness awakening forgiveness on the cross of love and wisdom Krishna Shiva Vishnu.

Self Play

The angel of absolute I is whispering a firmament of words. If April is all about memory and desire, March is all about innocence and experience. Clear woods, full sun, choiceless awareness.

So the universe is a phenomenon of an absolute I as we are the circus of the universe. Monkeys see and monkeys do. This is the elephant in the great room of the blind. Being may be useless but belief is a wasteland.

And absolute I is like the experience of deep sleep. And this universal dream is like the self-awareness of absolute I. Oh wisdom and love are too nondual for cats. Inhale, exhale, sneeze, and god bless you.

As if we the phenomena could usurp the blessings of absolute I. Not even the six eyes of lions and the four wings of eagles can approach the vanity of these two faces. To end, one must locate the beginning of this play.

Who am I? Absolutely.

Easter Dreaming Absolution

Easter is actually the celebration of altered consciousness. The child is the ground of the dream.

They come for the resurrection but stay for the apocalypse. Forgive yourself. For we never knew what hit us.

Deep sleep is primal meditation. A dream cannot stop dreaming. And being is the primal dream. Intending a dream is on the other hand.

Listen. One either dreams the dream forward. Or follows the dream signs. Tantra. Yoga.

All dream is based on the latest mythology. You are living the dream you need to dream.

Words are translations of direct experience. Translations are conversions to different belief systems.

Only consciousness cures consciousness. Forgiveness doesn't forget. Forgiveness transforms.

Question everything. Believing is something. Nothing is definitely not. And samadhi is beyond the question at the moment.

Ode Sakura

You are my mirror and I'm looking beautiful today. You are my self and I am writing every moment of this play. This is my dream and lucid self-awareness its display.

True, self-awareness is not a laughing matter, but all that clouds awareness is. Why did the turkey vulture cross the road? The reflection of the sky in this stream of consciousness knows no sides.

Every word is just another brick in the story. Real masons deconstruct conspiratorially. In an ocean of Shiva swim invisible whales in true moby glory.

Thus, dreaming separation is the first addiction. Dreaming self-awareness is the last step. Still, I keep telling myself over and over it takes zero steps to reach the heart of godliness.

And In a gadda da vida lived the plus and minus. One would think it's zero, yet I know the great unknown. Knowing I am, while understanding I'm not what I think I am, is like walking on a razor's edge without a net.

Oh the godly-mystic-experiential-naturally-without-thought is being like a cherry blossom once again.

The Church of Earth

Secret beach and open sea.

Slow seductive waves.

A sudden metronome of an unseen bell-buoy.

Dune grass kissing sweet mirage.

White mountains spied from an ancient crow's nest.

The blessed Satori in every grain of sand.

Sunshine Whiskey Tango Foxtrot

Cumulus clouds. Pink granite. The deep blue sirens of the sea.

Like the gods singing around a midnight starlight love-bright bonfire.

The radio blue response of earth wind and fire.

Agni. Vayu. Indra. Uma!

I dreamt they came from all around the world. Their names were Amadeus, Janis, Frank. They gathered in the Himalayas. Listen!

Taste the fire of the woods. Soothe your eyes in the circle of the sun.

The Optical Geometry of Rivers and Sky

The math of walls

and windows

doesn't add up.

I walk outside

to be the open space

of vast awareness.

A river is always

running through this

pleasant valley view.

Houses populate the northern bank

but on the southern side is eagle

innocence and disbelief.

The blue canoe of sky is ferrying

this ground of blind belief to the other side

where no side is the ground of seeing.

Another way is walk across the current

in a different pair of shoes

marked with the swoosh of compassion.

The calculus of pine trees swaying in the wind is whispering

there's no solution for

the absolute unknown.

No matter what one thinks,

clouds can never separate

the sky.

Listen, all of this is just a polychromatic vision

which I speak while sitting

silently at home.

The Divine Vision of Lucid Dreaming

All people are sick against themselves inside. So when someone coughs violently, war breaks out.

There are no bridges in the 21st century. Only sides, you fucking idiot. It's not social media. It's niche media.

And it's not reality shows. It's Machiavellian training.

The center is exposed by a spotlight to be rotten to the core. The spokes are flying off the wheel. But true center of no center is filling in the void.

Conscious self-awareness is the lucid dreaming of the bodhisattva.

Conscious self-awareness is the lucid dreaming of the bodhisattva.

Conscious self-awareness is the lucid dreaming of the bodhisattva.

The lucid dreaming of absolute intent is the seventh house. Lucid dreaming is to quantum physics as Newton is to Genesis.

Inspiration is to a muse as self-awareness is to revelation is to lucid dreaming is to I is to Self is to The 1 as manifestation is to signs.

Listen, for every apocalypse now there's an awakening here.

Listen, for every apocalypse now there's an awakening here.

Listen, for every apocalypse now there's an awakening here.

That math of lucid dreaming is compassion and love and forgiveness. This is the zero myth superseding the quantum of new belief or old snake oil.

To recap in old language. We're either fucked. Or we literally make love.

There are ten thousand detours to death but one way of life. Verily belief is a rainbow but truth is the light.

Nirvana is what you make of it. If it's not long division, love! Lucid dreaming is both practice and manifestation.

Lucid dreaming is both practice and manifestation.

The way out of war is unconditional surrender. The way into peace is lucid dreaming. One quick way to reach zero without the sirens of zero.

I have seen the best minds of my generation destroyed by zero.

I have seen the best minds of my generation destroyed by zero.

Shiva is the god of deconstruction. Kali is the goddess of deconstructing deconstruction. They are like husband and wife.

Ice melts. Taste the fire. It’s like deconstructing division. War is over. One love. Negative capability is negative and capable.

The concept of death is felt in the body and imagined by the mind. The living light of faith faith and faith is confirmed by the experiential.

No beauty. No truth. That is the back beat of Keats. Awareness is intelligence is bliss is as nirvana is to samsara.

World is to samsara as deep sleep is to being as food is to body as dream is to mind as self-awareness is to nirvana as re-visioning is to samadhi.

In satcitananda, breathe in dream, breathe out vision.

In satcitananda, breathe in dream, breathe out vision.

In satcitananda, breathe in dream, breathe out vision.

Blissfully a PseudoSonnet

fol 

low 

your 

meta 

bolism 

doing

or not doing.

perfect.

hummingbird or emu.

emu or hummingbird.

qoheleth says absurd

zhuangzi says what

serendipitous

mistake or

absolute intent?

The Great Usurper

During the day 

the air is clear

and disappears 

into the blue—

and at night 

when the air

ain't there,

I disappear

into you.

I steal your name

pretending this

locality is every

thing to living—

and when I lay

with you and

give it back,

all is instantly

forgiven.