Visually (haiku) * 3/31/12

the way we see things,

pattern recognition is

perceptual style

this predicament is tasty * 3/30/12

This predicament is not a problem

but an invitation.

You are not looking for a solution

but more so, an ascension.

You want immersion and expansion

not answers and isolation.

You want to meld

and not just attend.

You want the invitational feeling

of flow

and not the residual account

of resistance.

Whatever the initial structure

of any event,

you want the eventual momentum

of process richly unfolding.

You want no particulars

coming your way,

like one by one

as in a greeting line.

You want more

of a fluid atmosphere

as if going with the watercourse

of an ever expanding river

to the sea.

This expansion as embrace

is most favorable.

Anything of a custodial nature

is not what you’re looking for.

The tending of particulars

is a wear down.

Wellness, undisclosed,

should be on the rise.

Nothing has happened to you

rather you are happening,

and it expresses you.

Any event that happens to you

imprints isolation as a reward.

This is not

what you are looking for.

All of worth

should come from within you.

The ambience of self-love

should be emergent in you.

This predicament is tasty . . .

seaweed protest (haiku) 3/29/12

on the beach near by

seaweed clumps piled high speak out

against winter storms

Right or wrong * 3/28/12

The plot thickens

into March madness.

The situation is extreme.

He is able to pick each winner

and also the eventual final score.

Correct every time but in advance.

Media is innocently primed

to respond to his every account.

Initially, it was from day to day,

but after the first

weekend’s triumphs,

it became game after game.

The secret back-story

leveraging all of this?

His life or death alliance with ET’s,

to fully manifest

their experimental debate, namely:

the human investment

into being right or wrong versus

the value of the dynamics

of the situation itself

that is humanly generated

going forward.

In fairness of play,

this guys gets signed documents

from all the appropriate

sources and parties

for his identity

to remain anonymous

both throughout and thereafter.

This, for the ET’s,

sets up the real experiment

for them to watch;

media’s hunger

versus insider information.

But his issue with the ET’s is:

he claims he will be killed

within a year, after the final,

as in eventually discovered

and then prodded

to pick for profit

or die.

His trust is this:

ET’s want to gain

a further understanding

of human nature as their goal.

And knowing the future,

well, future in our terms,

is their ploy . . .

they will not let him died

in service to their cause . . .

Could you be an experiment

possibly like this?

And you not definitely know it?

Nothingness (haiku) 3/27/12

being nothingness,

and for the divided self

no expectations

Beep beep, the mind * 3/26/12

Every once in a while

the mind,

as a driving machine,

gets a flat tire

and so you have to

get out of your mind,

settle down,

and change that tire

before moving on . . .

Recipe for failure (haiku) * 3/25/12

“If I” and “will try”

seem to signal sabotage,

the personal kind

Experience itself * 3/24/12

Experience itself,

without regard

to all the particulars,

is just a method.

Eventfulness, as a sum total

of experience,

is a distraction,

while ambience as a presence

in experience, is encouragement.

Eventfulness and ambience

provide for vast diversity.

Diversity,

as we have come to know it,

is everything experienced.

Diversity is then laughter

as hidden mischievous oneness

ever present expressed.

Experience is cause for laughing,

and a cultivated excuse for joy

from within that sense of oneness.

Reconnect (haiku) * 3/23/12

to reconnect with

who we are in the moment,

blessing in being

bored beyond belief * 3/22/12

Bored beyond belief

is when belief

becomes a recall recitation,

when it is only a method

of internal review in defense.

Bored beyond belief

is when there is no emotional gusto

to the conviction,

the logic as airborne,

does not land

in two-footed shimmering truths.

Bored beyond belief

is when there is no rekindling

in the say, to yourself or others

as the meaning does not confirm

the moment.

Bored beyond belief

is when the soul life

does not live into

conclusions restated.

And the radical discovery is . . .

there is no accountability

to being

existence worthy

or presence justified . . .

shoe soles (haiku) 3/21/12

finding in shoe soles

warn away travel stories

here to there and back

Self as consciousness * 3/20/12

Self as consciousness

is access to the edit room.

It makes real life

into a potential movie site.

Themes born from expectations

become priorities.

Creation is reduced

to image management.

Social media only adds

a flavoring for subplots.

I was myself

and I grew to be a brand.

I am now a prisoner

of popularity’s role,

in that I savor what you favor.

I have become a puppeteer

of self-guesstimation.

Yes, guess-estimate-shun!

Can we keep it to a roar

and not a full blown rodeo?

Can we keep it to a hum

and not a roller coaster roar?

Can we have self as consciousness

and not be lost within it?

Hey, we are just another species

with a tale.

Yes, we tell

while they employ theirs.

Prehensile, us?

Well, only with our tongues . . .

Tiptoe (haiku) * 3/19/12

low tech gadgetry,

tiptoes electrical needs,

lessen the footprint

Featured is blemished * 3/18/12

Anything worth noting

is already featured

and that is a blemished view.

Focus as we know it,

is an out of context perception.

The workings of recognition

in the back of the brain

readily produces a front stage

for the naming of it

but naming relies on

our experience sets

which are shortcut clips

from memory’s stack.

Thus this compilation in view

becomes a myopic

I-max depiction.

We sight for the highlights,

as experiential stimulation is

its own summation

as just reward.

Therefore being there,

being first hand,

provides the impetus

or the entitlement

to blemished

first person observations

in account and review.

Our eyes tell the truth

but our mind lies

in the interpretive report.

Yes, we are capable,

sort of,

of behind the scenes

participation.

But in our mindful

reproduction room,

we edit for

certitude and highlights

as a means towards familiarity.

This provides creature comfort

in the viewing,

but our method

has become a blemished view.

We only see

what we feature skewed,

versus what was really there

for the immersion,

for then . . .

For we are the comedians

of a simulation of now,

by our blind candidness

and lack of presence

in this moment.

Yet what celebrates us,

is all of laughing matter.

Rowdy night out (haiku) * 3/17/12

pretzels and cold beer

what the hell is playing now?

like I really care!

exuding * 3/16/12

First, I sensed it

as an impending,

a forthcoming,

a precipitous presence

somewhere near us.

Somewhere immediate,

right near where we are,

right here, amongst us,

there is this presence.

It is not just whirling

in the mind storm

of any of us

merely by suggestion.

For there is though,

just an edge,

like an aroma's tail

that faintly flexes

out of its camouflage,

infrequently and unevenly.

It is an ever so distinct but minor

yet insistently present.

It seems profoundly muted

or intermittently muffled

from its unrelenting demands.

But no,

it is definitely nearby

yet still vaguely so,

mostly as an ongoing.

It’s like a distant lighthouse’s

ever bright and guiding light

but in a thick dark

new moon night fog,

or more intimately

like an open collective

of human mouths

sounding a shared tone

from deep within,

voicelessly yelling out

for an audience response.

Yes, that is the image

that incessantly comes to mind.

It is soft a cappella,

sung without breath brakes.

It is inadvertently exerting.

It is a continuance.

It is distantly robust

but somehow now

fascinating in mysterious ways.

It is commanding

and yet is restrained.

It is way beyond

what meaning would make of it.

And it continues

with subdued persistence,

still only as an exuding presence,

ever so indistinctly monumental

and doggedly enduring.

Thunder would be expected,

yet it is still only subtly exuding . . .

building towards an abundance

that would clearly

and eventually have its say.

It will pronounce itself.

But for now,

new voices adding to the mix,

as it is still and only exuding,

somewhere amongst us expanding,

imminently close at hand.

Still exuding, a presence of itself,

yet feeling for,

and listening to,

while still,

exuding . . .

Water (haiku) * 3/15/12

water, H2O,

all the means to be sacred,

we are that liquid

Water as metaphor * 3/14/12

The persuasion of a river

as human metaphor?

We, each pitchers

or pail-fulls of it.

Withheld as if retained

from the flow dream of itself.

Water is rapture,

by entrainment from spirit

and a confluence towards oneness.

Water is fulfillment

of joyless joy

as that oneness flowing.

All elements are in

harmonic viscosity

yet to be outright claimed.

We are where it is unrealized

as a knowingness

but still empathetically functional

in all of us as human beings.

Certitude of this

would save no one.

Yet conviction to the cause,

even of today,

is a buoyancy of consciousness.

Belief as a flotational device

does not work

towards this cause.

Trust itself,

is the fluid action

of the collective

towards oneness

as an eventual manifest.

The river flows through

all of us individually

until we are all that one

and the river by then

produces a raising current

of conscious presences

as consensus becomes ocean,

and metaphor is no more . . .

Use of time (haiku) 3/13/12

glancing at my watch

time intervention has come

need excuse to leave

Create with attention * 3/12/12

Create with the medium

of attention

as if it were

the most developed tool

of the most renown

master craft person within you.

Be it,

be that laser or digital,

brush or vocal cords,

chisel, torch, anvil, or saw,

exacto, touch, look or presence.

Bring to it

a penetrative clarity of being,

whatever the conduit be.

Channel the momentum

through with your own

conscious spirit.

There is no audience

when done lucidly

with full trust from within.

Create is outside of time

being brought into time

with this instrument of attention

to manifest it,

for the benefit of all,

as it comes through you.

Guilt (haiku) 3/11/12

I come out of guilt

to displace my depression

seeking true comfort

Breath 3 of 3 3/10/12

Sneezing is

a high diving board breath,

slowly edging up the breath ladder,

standing up there nasally,

at the top of the breath possibilities,

waiting almost absentmindedly,

visually gathered in a distant stare,

then with full-blown

but subtle in-breath commitment

blast into maximum breath free fall

and boom, acceleration

to a hundred miles per hour,

followed by reentry and impact,

then post breath physical recovery.

(and check for missing parts!)

The feelings accompanying

being-cross-examined breaths,

with throat glitches

and quickened inhales

and fly fleeing exhales

over dry mouth smacks,

while in the background

there are heart beat overtones

beckoning louder to chorus with

the stiff breaths

of edge-wacky uneasiness.

I watch shallow breath television

until the saliva pool helps kick start

from coma breath to recovery.

A reservoir of words

will be looking for a type of

fast breath departure.

For there is a breath

that will give way

to aiding crescendo responses,

towards fury and raised voices.

A compressing breath

and sometimes a speedy-ness

upon each lip serviced expression.

In the big picture,

breath is the divine mother

of any one's breath surrender,

to the god that loves

and the in-breath offering,

given to you

in return . . .

Gut feeling (haiku)

sacredness happens

can’t know for sure what it is

feel it in my gut

Breath 2 of 3 3/8/12

I faintly smell what I can't identify

with what-is-this quizzical breaths,

searching slowly

yet curiously sniffing the expanse.

If there is a story that never ends,

whether overtaken

by sleep or emotion

or mind preoccupation

with my place in some line,

with this breath

I find myself whole

without content,

as this breath secures a permission

for undisclosed self to reappear.

Oh-that-was-so-good,

snuggles of intimacy,

comforting within a round

of breath nuzzles

as if warmth is breathing

through my pores.

I shallow breathe my thoughts

towards rest,

then gallop towards

full blown sail breaths

once asleep.

Breath is my noble knight of action,

the simplicity beneath gestures,

the invisible wick providing flame.

I hesitantly deep sigh

these self-critical inner dialogues

of tumultuous emotions,

inwardly churning

otherwise, without breath release,

never surfacing.

Breath is one's movement

through undisclosed darkness,

as the unwavering momentum

towards the mountain of light.