the curse as the blessing 10/31/17

sensory awareness is a prison life

self is the cell without means of escape

mind is the shackles without possibility of release

dualistic thinking is the warden’s perspective

all the guards are dressed up as conclusions

prison life is the culture keeping on

“what are you in for” is destiny’s call

all one’s prejudices are mistaken for ventings

reprieves only come as spiritual awakenings

self-love comes as acquittals but never full release

even physical death offers no relief as if taken

hell freezing over gets no press coverage

for word of mouth is the bible of snitches

the food is terrible as the language that is spoken

no one is guilty is each person’s initial complaint

order is maintained as mindsets are ever sharing

there is a religion of what is felt but remains unsaid

remembering sensory life is a hand-me-down existence

reality is only a procedural account made mandatory

we are all individual boots of one common soul

no one takes a stand in a consensus world display

flow is immaterial play, as joy is not a result

you did not think this into what you understand

first breath was not the initiation of your reasoning

contentious reality is only an operational premise

thought absorbs the blows from experience’s offerings

where you have self-love, has a mind of its own

there, the heart knows of no boundaries,

no limitations and or sense of restraint

physicality is an illusion of your being

breath will tell you the truth but your mind has to listen

fate is shallow breathing, selling you short

inhale to be, exhale to trust

in-breath pauses provide for reality premised results

out-breath pause provides for the curse

of living to prove to your self as valuable

not to be your worth but to manage the proof of it

your senses are assigned the task of support

thus sensory life is the prison existence we each lead

so much for self-consciousness and necessity for deeds

lifespan is one long prayer to false gods of our own making

luckily, we all lead a double-life without letting on

deftly, our hearts are in the right place

and earth as we live it, is supposedly alive,

it’s not our original residence of being

but for being here, the curse is also the blessing

one in oneness remains avid and lucidly flourishing

but basically, in reality, rarely ever seen

yet soul lives in these actualizations

beyond what or of, knowing’s reach . . .

reality 10/30/17

reality is all about echo.

no originals actually occur.

the landscape of subjectivity

determines the lay of the landing.

and what is heard is only reflective,

and so we travel the land

of our own making.

blinded by the stimulus,

we are somehow always in response there to.

we negotiate the prismatic prison of our personage.

life is affect made evident,

under equipped and over stimulated,

sensory overloaded without deeper insight.

the burdens of intake presenting overwhelm,

apparently on the outside, looking in,

seems like all windows and bleacher seats.

birthright is ticket to ride,

self-consciousness so overly preoccupied.

the sonar of soul would like to tell the truth

but it’s not in a language.

and hearing it does not apply,

for there is no story to be told.

so listen up,

is the conundrum to start

and then, reality is the koan . . .

introverts muse 10/29/17

I am all my words without wardrobe

my meaning is spent before dressing up

utterances were done without breath

facing a forest of seated tree trunks

and don’t know their ages staring back

their upper restlessness is loud for an audience

talking to myself in a wooden room

they just came here to overhear amongst themselves

whatever I was thinking escaped by distraction

there is no such thing as practice

the impetus to speak out is gone

the stampede of incoming was overwhelming

introverts muse is conversation enough

time passes laughing behind my back

nothing of substance is getting done

I half expect a cave-in of action to overtake me

impulse to rise up and feast on any movement

passive-aggressive can be an inner process also

silent shouts, shrieks and expletives

fill the inner monologue yet soundless outside

I continue to look like I am day dreaming

but it is a noisy bus-ride vacant of viewing

it does get me from here to there

I am sure I will get off the bus and be somewhere

and that will be demanding of itself for then

as now is all forgotten in the drifting of the day

en route 10/28/17

experience is disingenuous

only a self-conscious observational method

yet it can be filled

with the rush of emotive light

but it of itself is really only excess baggage

en route, drawn towards higher states of being

enlightenment does not have a wagging tail

as the result of experience

presence of being is an open door

without frame, structure or containment

to leave the time-bind of experience behind . . .

the enigmatic ‘not know’ part 5 10/27/17

are we there yet?

who of the so called ‘you’ is asking?

well, me-of-there, certainly would not be of asking.

and there would really be never any details

to further ponder.

look, nothing has been said here

that is not just a disrobing,

a surrender of it all,

by method, details, account or inquiry.

just ‘not-know’

and there is no savior or redemption involved.

if you choose to go on with this,

this message will be erased immediately.

and nothing further will be expressed by words

or by the buoyancy of ‘know’ as its means.

and eventually,

there are no decisions about any of this, either . . .