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Thursday, December 31, 2015

facing space 12/31/15

space itself is a vagueness of mirror,
occasionally beckoned to reflect.
how it’s occupied is not really what is there
but only what we hallow see.
every space is then a reflection of how we see
and what we claim that we saw.
otherwise there is no concern for the space of itself.
we come from a heritage much like that.
space is stage potential, at our beck and call.
if we claim we own it, then even more so.
but if it be of public domain
then it is still for human consumption.
we have a limited one-sided perspective,
ordained by our inadequate perceptional style.
any space by our human sensory standards
is only an extension of our mind’s recognition.
we have reserved that right to entitlement,
therefore space has much compassion for our disregard.
we are passive functional idiots
in an ocean of complexity and charm.
bless us all, if and when we ever wake up.
everything in our lives is the tea ceremony
yet we persist in doing it blessedly unconscious.
hey, we only know what we know.

and that is how we roll . . .

Wednesday, December 30, 2015

Wildness 12/30/15

There is no levelheadedness to wildness of itself.
Wildness embraces the moment from a deeper palate.
It is most certainly not a compromise
of motor skills made legible.
It is not a complacent procession dignified
as a means to an end.
It’s so busy in its self-fury,
it’s not aware as bystanders would be.
It’s reading from a different set of cues
as its outrageous operative means.
The scope of wildness has no foreground immediacies
as having distance perspective,
and no background as distractively urgent.
Running wild is an observer’s view from afar
yet paradoxically ever so near as endearingly close.
Wildness is precious without glitter, dazzle or luster.
Wildness is viewed from an outside, labeling it,
wondering what the isness is that is expressing,
and where, from within, does it gain
that outright permission to do so.
Wildness is an unheld fire-hose gushing
the pressure release as its evidence.
It’s animation as in the joy
of it’s A-to-B movement, sprung free.
Wildness is not its intended expression
but our observational and summational account,
no matter this be animal, weather, water, or odd human,
seems towards a rational construction in response.
Wildness is non-categorical beauty as in grace into flow.
Baffling but respected,
genuine beyond accepted means,
wildness is spontaneously refreshing,
as in living the death of each sneeze into freshly awaken,
as in being taken up by the free-fall as gravity provides.
Wildness is a needed page-turn
at the risk of a paper cut,
an energetic honesty that sneaks through into display,
and play as a house of mirrors setting you image free.
Wildness is without escort or appropriate venue.
Wildness erupts not as self claimed or contained.
It is a lightning of truth buried in discharge mode.
For some creatures or circumstances,
it is its only way.
In our heart of hearts,
if the truth be told,
there is no value to wildness
but to be . . .







Tuesday, December 29, 2015

Emotion is to think, as feel is to thought 12/29/15

Emotion is to think, as feel is to thought . . .
Thought is our genuine myopia,
and emotion, as of spirit, is the essential driver.
Think’s production is govern by a subtle set
of indoctrinating repetitious syntactical rules,
that preempt any possible think into thought.
Emotions interpreted by this thought as process
are the prime experience of feelings.
Thought is the reduction residue of think’s action.
From a think’s point of view,
emotions interpreted by thought,
post think that is, are conclusions.
We don’t think conclusions
but we have conclusive thoughts.
I know, it seems like splitting hairs.
These conclusions are of feelings’ representation
of emotion, generally based upon previous feelings.
Subsequently, interpretations by thought of feelings,
are conclusive judgments.
Think is a contextual void rendering
brought into mind in time.
Feelings are originally a relativized hologram
of emotional energetic participation
before our experiential all account of the universe,
as brought from think into thought in a timely manner.
Authentic emotional existence is beyond this hologram,
outside the intrusive mental claims
that are quantified in space and time.
Feelings, as thoughts, are the residue from think
as interpretation of emotions in timeframe manner,
reduced into our popular method of experience.
Emotions, as if heartful and heartfelt,
exist outside of time and space’s physical considerations.
Mindful awareness of heartfelt 
is an in-time interpretive non-holographic process 
of linear persuasion,
as an experience presentation,
as well as an example towards mindful’s method
called understanding.
Emotions bathed in the metaphorical, now full time,
are as if as a constant view of the deep star-filled night sky, 
only it is framed by the earthbound viewing perspective.
The think of that viewing circumstance is a reductionism 
into feelings interpreted by us
as if of the sun beating down warmly
upon the cognitive experiential sense of one self,
standing outside, facing the sky of the day,
and immediately name-producing the thoughts
from that situation as into language like;
What time of day? Where are we?
What kind of weather is this?
Although unsaid, but eventually rendered
into an entitled myopic inner question like,
What’s happening?
To be answered by thought, not think
yet interpreted from think,
as that is reduce-rendered from feelings
that are the in-time currency of explanations
of emotions’ energetics
as our integral and consummate deep involvement
with the universe,
to be immediately understood as a right then!
So, what’s happening?
( is a question beckoned from the void of think
from the bleacher view of thought,
so to speak….!)
Emotion is to think, (brought in from yet outside of time), 
as feel is to thought, (all very time bound
in a reality formats that eventually language) . . .




Monday, December 28, 2015

the now sails on 12/28/15

Assuming that we are
of a custodial absentmindedness
as the now,
and that we always wish
to imagine something remembered
to reminds us of a future
that is telling us all about the now.
How did this happen to become this way?
Look, if we were to have all of time,
yet in time, at one time,
say, as the Now,
then we would have to admit
that memory is the credo dedicate to denial,
provoking the past as representational
to our future,
and that the might of suffering,
and the half-truth building upon half-truth
are a successful means of this exile,
always away from the now.
Based upon these limitations,
they are breeding dimensions for us
away from the now.
It is as if we therefore see less
from what we see
to gain better control
over what we don't know
as a justifiable statement
to demonstrate how we are not available
to be in the now
or to be substantly aware of it.
That we live in the transience of language
and the confines of understanding
does not give us easy passage
sweetly into the now.
Waving from the shoreline, at best,
the now continue to sail away . . .


Sunday, December 27, 2015

ditto (haiku) 12/27/15

we had the feeling
they wanted to be with us
funny, they did too