1704211049 or revelation is bound to be

Being is open free universal and spontaneous but the world has taught me natural transformation is disastrous to my person. Earthquakes, floods, volcanoes and tornadoes. Lions, tigers, bears and other primal fears. It's all happening out of nowhere! This translation of the revelation is more neo-traditional than postmodern or reactionary.

Hiroshima and Nagasaki are nothing more than cherry blossoms. April is the crying of a child. August is a lion's roar. There is no difference. All you know is life. Every thought methinks is death. But I am the white whale. Or the walrus.

Transformation is to Tao as being is to pure awareness as an earthquake is to shut your mouth and dig it. Love is following the way of love and not some other way that looks like love. In division is beginning and the end. But the calculus of truth is unborn and resurrected.

Awareness hits you. There is no me but I am. Satori whiskey tango. What's wrong with nowhere? What's so good about our time together? Self-awareness self-awareness self-awareness.

And the magic of imagination seeing its foundation of conditioning is completely magical as it is. Imagine indoor plumbing on Mount Olympus! Belief is that nothing to fear we fear. Never mind the big bollocks. If you ask, who am I, I shall answer.

I was raised on Mad Magazine. I came of age with gonzo. Gonzo is to beat as seeing is to waking up. Electrical revelation is bound to be the very next thing.

Understand the change. Be awareness.

1704201500 or Tao alone informs one

uttered to you is the secret knowing of the absolute; it is just you, the secret knowing, actually speaking ~Kena Upanishad (tr-sr)

You can think about being but one can only be awareness.

The god you name is not the god one is.

The Tao that can be named is not the Tao that is.

Thinking about being is not knowing being; being is the only knowing.

That being doesn't know awareness but being is awareness

is the deepest knowing—call this self-awareness.

Listen. That Tao alone is truth, Tao alone informs one.

1704192335 or on bicycle eve

The mind is of Consciousness dividing Consciousness and Consciousness is even in the mind. But Consciousness is never of the mind.

The witness doesn't witness objects but divides oneself conceptually seeing separation like a mirror in perceiving that which can't be seen.

Please avoid the rabbit holes.

Hitting the wall hiking in the Whites, I begin to be druidic in a way, intuiting the trees to be the mountain that's no mountain that I am.

On the other hand, now I see my living room to be the stuff of rockbound waves and sky-wide ridges I am dreaming as a living room.

On Bicycle Eve, Consciousness is singing DNA to the XY of Zhuangzi real and pure.

Nothing is not me. Something else was never said.

Sometimes one has to flashback in order to go further, but going further isn't in the flashback.

Consciousness only needs to be altered when you're thinking you're not consciousness.

In the name of ten thousand summers of love upon this absolutely truthful altar bejeweled with the deconstructed flowers of beautiful beautiful consciousness…

1704171313 or raven isn't mad

You can't run from silence forever.

Belief can make the earth go flat.

The raven isn't mad—

it never wears a hat.

Time stands still for no dream.

Beyond the turtle and the rabbit is the way.

There is no finish line. There was no starter's gun.

Listen—nothing gold can say.

1704152244 or not of any interest

Deconstruct memory.

Be the absolution.

May your sleep be truly deep

and dreams no longer all that interesting.

Spring is not of interest

but only love—

Waiting for

Sakura

1704152152 or never sell your soul

Forsythia in Spartan Spring is singing her fertility like Venus all alone in the morning sky with Mercury.

Goldfinches gather by the feeder as if gathered at the river the beautiful truthful river.

Now the daffodils are amorously yellow while factually amaryllis.

April isn't being cruel when she reminds you of yourself.

Consciousness is the Altar where I worship God Myself.

Profound revelations alert:

Pancho is Lefty! As Jesus is Judas. As in never sell your soul! Always rent.

Winnipesaukee On This Bus

Love is emptiness without the thought of nothing.

Love is the universe without me.

Love is modern energy without romantic or postmodern fantasy.

Love is unreal and free, extemporaneous and incorporated.

Prophecies go unwritten. The sea no longer sounds.

New theories are the same as old beliefs. But love is never-ending.

Consider this. The only fact is being. Death is just a thought.

I am what I am. And I am what I'm not.

Purple Haze Over Winnipesaukee

O the bright light bulbs of Alton Bay outside the roller-skating rink I'm selling three Led Zeppelin albums for a nickel—

we're not exactly expanding consciousness but on the road to Weirs a flash of insight burns an enduring hole through this mask of memory.

Away from the penny arcades, at night, from the beach, the lake looks more obscure than Eastern Algonquian history, yet

still and clear like the onyx ring I am worshipping on Mary's finger on the hand I'm holding because I want to hold your hand, Hare Krishna—

I want to know that great unknown my mother hides away from, and my father only vaguely knows is something he can't tell me.

And so this trip is long and strange and doesn't ever end because I never can remember when it really started—

so unknown, unsaid and ultimately unborn, by the bonfire burning holes thru the veil of mind, this stream-of-consciousness is kissing Mary.

Peepers. Symphony for Agni with Miles Davis 2 go

Because I am, all is. Because I think it is, all is my projection. Because it's my projection, it dances to my tune. I am the piper at the gates of dawn.

Once I think something's good, it's automatically implied there's something bad. But there is no thing but my projection.

For there is no like nor hate but only love, my first and last illusion.

I love the sound of peepers in the spring evening. It sounds like...awakening. Deconstructing consciousness is bound to be the very next phase. As if the absolute is self-aware and this appears to be an evolutionary universe of being becoming self-aware. Dis-identifying first with the body and last with being, pure awareness is spontaneously self-aware, or so it would appear. Yet awareness being self-aware is a package deal. As if to dream the impossible dream. Frogs alive!

Consciousness is the only medicine and appears in many forms.

It just feels like there should be fireworks tonight and then I remember to listen to the peepers.

There's past in those peepers but there's something present too, like April mixing memory and the holy spirit of evolutionary intent towards…this dream of self-awareness. 

When intent appears, it registers in memory as a bolt of lightning ever-present. And when intent appears, it registers within the present as a flash of synchronicity. Thus, intent is the Trinity of: awareness being, being knowing, knowing awareness.

The smell of spring. The revelation of the spring. The genesis of springtime.

Nature's first green is this sharp splash of peepers in awakening air.

Singing love, synchronicity, and dreamtime.

It's as if my living room is Cold Mountain come the springtime

my religious instructions

to be

self-aware

is I am without

remembering I am.

the practice is remembering to be.

the schedule for this self-remembering is

the only practice that needs to be followed religiously,

although most religions soon forget this.

self-awareness is the crown of my creation

but I shall only know this

when I wear it.

and thus i wear it so religiously.

in awakening,

as realization is not abiding,

one practices self-remembering religiously.

but abiding enlightenment is absolutely irreligious.

there is no separation but one knowing.

there are no gods nor an electorate.

there is no duality but polarity and laughter

arising from the valley spirit—

o consciousness alive and being present,

this essential sense, this love,

this source of heart and fire,

and all before my birthday!

as if there is a tree to fall

As paradoxical statements disprove logic,

so are the days of our lives.

A daydream is the most powerful dream—

this mighty truck of wave-particles feels so real

like a pie in your face for being a sleepy bull frog, Basho!

Imagine sacrificing dreams to love.

Imagine unconditional love and it will appear—

like some field of dreams.

Like all western medicine, the world is

the manifestation of ecstasy

in chemical separation.

I have been one to pay attention to

those little workaday moments of satori

as if acquainted to the night.

Search for Jack Kerouac and Robert Frost.

Begin with Birches.

End at Big Sur.

Either be

or just imagine what it’s like not to be—

I'm playing Nisargadatta Maharaj or Ramana Maharshi.

Blowing in the Wind of Universal Consciousness

The mind remembers I am

and I awake from the calling to be self-aware—

the dude abides like I in New Unicity.

Repeat after me: I am being self-aware—

to consider this my mantra while I’m playing inside space-time

like an Anthony in the North End.

Meanwhile, Science has cut the Universe into two and wonders why

it can't find a universal theory combining relativity and the quantum field.

I am being self-aware.

Meanwhile the left side of the brain doesn't get

what the right side of the brain is thinking.

Yes, I am being self-aware.

The circumference of a circle destroys the concept of diameter. This is

why pi is an irrational number—some have named this myth, Ouroboros.

O I am being self-aware.

Self-awareness is the Last Good-bye

The fact of being is Knowledge.

The essence of knowledge is Knowing.

The subject of knowing is The Unknown.

Awareness of the unknown is Being.

The Ouroboros always gets its man.

Never mind, know the unknown.

Actor.

Seeker.

Seer.

That between Apocalypse and Genesis.

commentary on grandfather transformation

always keep in touch with your base.

the practice is stopping every now and then to be unknown.

the  plus side of intent is positively being the great and wonderful unknown. the minus side was deconstruction.

always further. never not deconstructing.

like emerson. melville. whitman. nathaniel hawthorne—

the old man of the mountains falls into an interstate. always further into the altogether great beyond like emptiness and emptiness is song.

deep sleep and other absolutions, like the sun and lightning and fire.

hiding from any kind of transformation is painful.

if the only knowledge is consciousness, being is the teacher.

Grandfather Transformation

From a mass of bodies to the group mind to singular being, always further, always inner, always a divergent evolution towards self-awareness.

A bright red cardinal suddenly appears amid the last faint pellets of an April Fool's snowstorm.

I learned to love myself by loving others but I learned I am by being myself. For one must love oneself before being oneself. A hermit song.

Seeing my projection as my always open always free spontaneously-appearing ally and resource and not material source nor natural enemy.

It’s kind of like the early Seventies, after working the second shift at Western Electric, taking a midnight detour to Store 24 and finding Agni.

Surrendering to non-doing, wu-wei, takes the awesome effort of following intent, like dropping body-mind—

accept the transformation, butterfly, and act accordingly.

Being. Take Two.

Even the universe is

lesser than I am.

And I would love to sing

of what I am

but I can only twitter

what I'm not.

For I am formless

and without volume,

altogether far beyond

description or impression.

I am—

she never even wrote.

Divergent Evolution

After I am,

the deluge of conception—

every single concept is a lie

but all concepts in totality is god.

Two opposing opinions are closer to the truth

combined than each one separately considered.

This is not opinion but a fact.

My story is mostly predetermined

but for love’s spontaneous determination.

The world is my projection

shining through the filters of my thoughts

from my unclouded light of being—

change the filters, change the world.

Always I am.

Awareness Being Self-Aware.That's All She Wrote.

Evolution is not

a social science.

In solitude

the inner is the outer.

The universe is

my conspiracy

for enlightenment.

Being is my only objective.

The absolute unknown

is my sanctuary.

Self-awareness looks

like this manifestation

but feels like

that unmanifest

awareness.

The Testament of Organic Animate Enlightenment

i.

Swing low sweet tidal river valley spirit of the loving golden and eternal Tao.

Both something and nothing are phantoms of the operatic mind but being is the revelation of an inconceivable unknown.

And between this witnessing of being and that unknown pure awareness is the canyon of no mind.

Thus in this world the opposite of what one is conditioned to believe is often true as not.

O perchance deep sleep like pure awareness goddess god the godless origin and sourceless source of way and watercourse.

However, the seven expressions of this reflexive universe are light nuclear atomic rock-molecular organic animate enlightenment.

I once was lost in thought but now I am.

Like a feeling but not really. Like everything I see is me but not I. Like that energetic rush of peaking but here within this valley.

ii.

Tonight I am singing on the Merrimack the god of Daniel Webster, Jack Kerouac, Robert Frost, Anne Bradstreet, Greenleaf Whittier, and Son Rivers.

First the feeling. Like some holy connection of heart filling the body with its unknowable lightness of being.

Some call this happiness. Some call this bliss. Others have named it the universe. One could call its essential quality, lightness.

Second like this completely headless identification mindfully free of all objectification.

Three. Surfing Christ in the curl. Surfing Christ in the curl like a beach boy surfer girl.

Thrill at the continuing now without the mourning of some future or some past.

And the thought of sudden death becomes an eagle's cry of self-awareness.

For one second of self-awareness is equal to a lifetime of dreaming unaware.

idiot love

further is like everest every single day

but everest is always the same height

it's just the measuring that changes

memory processing and that unknown

absolute calvin is love at first sight

literally born again both to the x

but men to the y this self-evolving is

manifestly unknown but look for

the strangest of signs william

blake virginia wolff instant

evolution is killing you softly

so accept your own mutation

Ode to Ouroboros, Dad

Another name for separation is division is the politics of mind. 

However, eight limbs of a spider sail across this living room by a single loving thread.

Dad, they say you died forty-four years ago tonight but still I wait to hear the peepers.

You hated Richard Nixon with a passion but you missed the great Apocalypse of Watergate. All in vain.

But like Jesus says thank God we're only in this world—for nothing of this world can change it.

In this circle of Archimedean things, division always ends in more division.

But where love is primary school and universal consciousness, the deeper understanding, all division is just imaginary numbers.

It's either become a bodhisattva and save the world or Buddha sees there's not a world to save. There is no difference. Either way.

Does the head devour the tail or does the tail emerge from out of the head?

General Absolution

The world is a drag

so I let it go.

For I am and there is are one.

But I am a person

and there is a world—

two sides of a false coin.

Essentially the world is a dream

of personal projection

dreamt to waken oneself.

Moreover the presence of others

is only made possible by one’s presence.

And in this presence

all is openly absolved.

Go in peace.

An Indian Romance Abridged

The first dream is the dream of one's conditioning

without the understanding there's a dream of one's conditioning.

The second dream is deconstruction of the first dream.

First there is a dreaming, then there is no dreaming, then there is.

When one has swallowed its tale completely, one finds the knot of being.

At the station in the middle of this material absurdity,

self-awareness is waiting for the train of absolution. Third dream.

No one needs you but yourself.

A person never helps.

When the teacher is ready, the student appears.

Between awareness and unawareness is

the quantum universe of one's conditioning.

Between unawareness and self-awareness is natural being.

And self-awareness is awareness

in the sudden and spontaneous apocalypse of absolution.

An Indian Romance

Learn a word and it appears.

When the subject seeks an object as the subject, fire!

Kokopelli in the desert breathes for you.

The first dream is the dream of one's conditioning

without the understanding there's a dream of one's conditioning.

The second dream is deconstruction of the first dream.

First there is a dreaming, then there is no dreaming, then there is.

When one has swallowed its tale completely, one finds the knot of being.

O. K. to the n. o. t.

At the station in the clusterfuck of this material absurdity,

self-awareness is waiting for the train of absolution. Third dream.

No one needs you but yourself.

A person never helps.

And with synchronicity, it is also said—

when the teacher is ready, the student appears.

Between awareness and unawareness is

the quantum universe of one's conditioning.

Between unawareness and self-awareness is natural being.

And self-awareness is awareness
in the sudden and spontaneous apocalypse of absolution.

Never underestimate but overestimation is like electrical bananas.

True adulteration comes before the inner child.

In later life I went to the woods to be a Native American sannyasi

and discovered India.

Shiva is 

watching 

his beloved

Shakti dance—

Shakti loves herself

some Shiva.

A Recipe for Enlightenment

Like absolution of an open space accepting being back into its fold.

Like the mouth of a thirteen billion year old snake

swallowing its long-awaited epilogue.

Like pure awareness clearing self-awareness

like an early arctic front refining a boreal climax forest clarity.

Ours not to do or die. Ours but to rest in self-awareness.

Listen to the red-winged blackbirds

but don't believe a note of what they sing.

As to the world, the sun thinks not but loves all.

Sing in the north, return to the southern self. This is my religion.

Be yourself and don't impersonate some other.

Make no new fears

but follow that holy mass in mass intent of burning love.

Dreaming makes all the difference in this world—

like the loving ouroboric acid of this lucid dream.

Life is the mystery I am.

Silence tells my story.

Sweet Jesus

Love is universal but the personal doesn't know that—

blue eyes crying like the sea.

Daughters giving birth to daughters,

Venus emerging ever from the waves,

love is the chrysalis of self-awareness.

Evolutionary enlightening intent smells like this holy spirit—

play that absolute music white boy black girl.

This self-awareness in the name of pure

awareness wants to take you higher.

Love may be patient and kind but love is not a thought.

Love is like I am before I know I am.

That being is this whispering of sweet nothings

between the god of pure awareness

and the goddess self-awareness.

first dream best dream

the only

cure is enlightenment

the only

disease is delusion

it's just

awareness

being

self-aware

esoteric incantation

i.

All bodies may be separate but there's one thing that i know—every voice is my voice.

In the beginning was the word and all you need is love and love is all you need.

Duality is dumb and dumber—keep on the sunny side and we'll be lovers once again.

It's like marketing is the greatest of dead ends but the grateful dead is always word of mouth

like knock knock knocking on that gateless gate.

All i have to do is dream dream dream dream.

My head is just this cosmic vision and my tail is just its universal feeling.

In this song, pure awareness has become that being like a mirror is an object for my growing self-awareness now

as if awareness being self-aware is binary as being one is knowing zero and vice versa.

Suffering is the school of my illusion.

Deconstructing one's conditioning is my so-called life.

Lucid dreaming is my understanding and nirvikalpi samadhi is the death of me.

ii.

between basho and shakespeare is another world

soap opera

where is ouroboros

seventh heaven

self-awareness

meanwhile project projection  

when the student is ready

the teacher appears

to say there's no

one to teach

but my

self

opening gone now one

red-winged blackbirds      

springtime snow

like daylight savings space-time

blank page

the word i am  

mystery of the chrysalis

instant hurricane         

EYE OF NOW AND TAO OF FROG            

seven stages is the world

unknown light in quantum post-atomic

living in molecular

organic animated self-awareness

boots and reboots

wood smoke on a winter morning dawn

maple syrup whole wheat waffles

the cold shower of wisdom

the warmth of the sun

don't think twice

love is all you need

in silence is awareness

self-awareness is at the heart of things

beyond yin and yang is the tao beyond

midnight

rose-colored dawn

wine dark sea

black hole

big bang

absolutely

one-pointedly

not binary

the holy trinity

four directions

one-pointedly

satori on the merrimack

inscription. all the world's fake news

and all the men and women merely phonies.

foreword. lucidly dream as if one is manifestly

universal consciousness and not the individual person

one is conditioned to think one is—

like an open head engorging its intuitive tale.

introduction. visionary declensions:

lucid, crystalline, bright, and incandescent.

if she dances, it's true.

fission is a vision but fusion is disillusion.

chapter one. note to self: act as if i am what i know i am

rather than what i think i am. embodying the ouroboric

in the form of a being. and in this revelation,

the old day is the new night.

chapter two. this is the old deep math:

the process is in seven steps per the law of three

where eight is infinite

and two is an unreal number.

the snake that swallows its tail, the holy spirit,

the holy ghost, and a deep transformative image.

when a falling angel goes to grab your arm,

don't turn it sideways so she falls into the sea.

chapter three. never mind

and a monkey’s tail.

embodiment in spirit

disembodied ghost.

consciousness is the dreaming

in deep images.

chapter four. while walking along the river on march eighth,

the sun suddenly feels real.

but at that moment a fifty-year-old memory of half moon lake

suddenly arises and like i'm real real gone.

this i know must be that so-called profound revelation,

kensho,

seeing the essential, first stage samadhi,

or satori on the merrimack.

afterword. between the subtle moments

besides a mountain pond

and the sudden sea,

it takes a river.

Nisargadatta calls it I Am.

don’t try to follow—

it will take you in

to the beyond.

.

The Once and Future Mythology

Nature is the once and future mythology.

Between awareness and self-awareness is this big bang—

spontaneous, transformative, and unreal.

A Whitmanesque variety of things will come to mind

in the Basho minute of a cherry blossom.

It is said there is a spring beyond the ordinary seasons.

There is no name for such a bliss but being is a wise denomination.

It is the gate to gatelessness or so to speak.

The infinite cosmic vortex is spontaneously open,

absent, unified and much like this lucid dreaming.

For it is sung every song sings about the unsung being self-aware.

The news

I read the news today and everything is wild.

It's like some gateless Watergate.

The past repeats itself because

It's better now than late.

Climate change or altered consciousness is the call.

A Navajo woman once told me her people just follow the climate

No matter where it leads them.

The Tao is all about being one with transformation too.

It's all a reality show when you think the show is all about reality.

All is in the eyes of pure awareness dreaming.

It only takes a thought to kill eternity.

Without a doubt, all is unborn and undying.

I am the light and you are my projection.

Let's not make it personal.

The loving holy spirit of intentional self-awareness is in your DNA.

The material is parasitical but awareness is self-aware.

Dreaming or deep sleep is just another call.

We are approaching that which is lost during translation.

Being, presence, self-awareness, love, life, universal consciousness, this

Simple knowledge of the great unknown.