connectedness (haiku) *9/30/12

to see the spirit

is to be present and feel,

sense connectedness

Just anyone * 9/29/12

Any one enlightened

and communicative,

is only sending

presence postcards

to a readership

wanting to have either

pre-race or rock concert

pit passes.

Still experience only gives

an aquarium-like

window-shopping view.

To focus on what is emanative

as if it was to be viewed,

and not realize the source

of it from within oneself,

is to profoundly believe

that the wind going by

the car one is driving,

makes the motor run.

There is nothing

to enlightenment to view.

But we don’t embrace nothing

that way with much success.

Further more,

enlightenment solves nothing

but we are generally

not at that stage

of quantum resolution, either.

Enlightenment is not circumstantial

or evidential or truly verifiable

by any means of certifiable passage.

In other words,

you can’t get there from here.

In enlightenment, here and there

do not compute.

Not because

there is no reasonable solution

but more so because,

here and there,

as comparable components,

are not enlightenment quantifiable.

Enlightenment has no bottom line

and it has no element of fit, to it.

Enlightenment is not a haven

and there is no solution

to be occupied.

Most of the driven-ness

for enlightenment

is to leave something

for something else.

In the drawn-ness

to enlightenment,

everything is included as it is

for those presumptions still exist.

Enlightenment does not address

anything.

It is both other than

and part of it,

given that there is no it-ness,

to address.

Enlightenment is not

a graspable tool

for leverage,

or means, or solution.

Language, as a way

of reference,

is really only,

as it is here, hearsay.

Enlightenment is really,

just anyone.

But the experience

of enlightenment

is the imminently recent past.

Yes, after the fact,

and not party to it

but of it, as an isness.

Just anyone is enlightened,

but experiencing that

is just another

all-together matter . . .

Commitment (haiku) *9/28/12

their spirits were clear

they were ready to go on

where was I with them?

The superlative life * 9/27/12

Living in the ever-want wardrobe

of contentious superlatives,

comparative truth

is a bloodthirsty consensuality.

Sweat equity is living for proof.

Polarization is

an end game imprisonment.

The self-story

is a rationalizing driver.

Audience as an affirmative activity,

generates meaningfulness

as a milling and honing device.

Deep breaths are

a survival mode necessity.

Communication is

a leveraging device,

for apparent friendship

to provide for, either

excuses as a venting

or proof of worth as a means.

Inwardly overhearing oneself

debate undecipherable dreams

that are in contrast

to the superlative life

one imagines for oneself,

is really as endless job

of self involved in a self-scrutiny

that is a never ending

justification job interview . .

Superlatives,

much like perfection,

are a myth-full enterprise

of living outside of oneself

by the perceived

collective values of others . . .

cherish most (haiku) * 9/26/12

what I cherish most

not memory’s reward, but

this moment’s presence

Fatal errors to isness * 9/25/12

The fatal errors to isness

as a consciousness,

are the popular usages

and over pronounced techniques

of self-consciousness.

Namely, experience itself,

as a primary method 

of self-consciousness

is the major challenge

if isness is a presentable stage

of enlightenment.

These techniques:

being mindfully referential,

nominality,

the upkeep of sanity,

the presumption of certitude,

any duality perspective,

and the world

of mental equivalency,

all contribute

to a self aware consciousness

that denies deeper emersion

into a quantum sense

of beingness.

All methods of in-time awareness,

as self corrections and grounding,

hamper enlightenment presence.

All of the pronounceable particulars

in deeper emersion,

if there are any

that can be construed

as noteworthy,

are not delineated from the whole.

These features,

integral to essential emptiness

for a transitioning

self-consciousness view,

are the living substance

of means

for this essence emersion.

Where we are as a consciousness,

in the pursuit of character,

we feature a demonstration

of evidential behavioral elements

to be rigorously monitored

and attended,

as our self-consciousness,

a sort of beside our self

but as our self.

While there is another notion

of personal integrity

which features integration

of subtle but dynamic self elements

as the expression and celebration

of the deeper yet already present

but unrevealed,

welling spirit of being.

Isness as enlightenment

has a gaze

full of blessed emptiness

as its apparent focus.

In a quantum perspective,

the notation of any particulars

is out of phase

and dysfunctional

as a focus method.

In a quantum world,

mind retrieval

as self-conscious awareness,

produces celebratory presence

and not a certitude of particulars.

Our current method

of mind retrieval is an overused

and subsequently overrated 

minor participant in consciousness.

As long as reality

is an attempt 

to reverse engineer 

enlightenment as a goal,

isness requires

a retooling of surrender within

and a profound loss of aspects

of self-consciousness

as observational baggage  . . .

Isness is not a collection

of parts to make a whole.

Isness is not part-able.

It is a seamless whole,

all fields within one,

yet undefined

and, in the manifest,

and flourishing . . . 

Caring deeds (haiku) * 9/24/12

these deeds and service

our medium for love shared

convey affection

Timing * 9/23/12

Timing is a constant,

the way that wet is unto itself.

We, as scavengers, have events,

live for right lighting,

breathe poignancy,

say prayers depiction pronounces,

filling almost all of the time.

Yet timing is a wisdom,

read between the lines,

that literacy cannot improve.

Timing is a pushpin of oneself

that perforates and punctuates

the map of now,

but never pauses to be posing.

Timing, in and of itself,

has no declaration.

It has the dedication of a beehive

and the fervor of an ant colony,

the foot forward that never plants,

yet no greeter, no front door.

Timing is viscous without exception,

honorable without an apparent code,

dignified yet unassuming,

intimate yet ever far reaching,

offering satiable elegance,

while being thoroughly confluent

and yet, a quick death

in our recognition’s spotlight.

Timing is the nothing of an act

but the everything

of the observation.

Timing is as sacred

as the mountaintop 

of most cherished memories

and yet, leaves no relics or signage

as endearment signatures.

Timing has

forth-dimensional camouflage

in its DNA,

breathes with

a tongue lash of lightning

but does not burn,

and has no per se, flame.

It has a universe as its play land.

While we have it on myopic hearsay,

in the way we live in our land

of lost and found.

Timing gives no proof,

has no outstanding warrants,

asks for little or nothing in response,

gifts in the strangest of ways,

comes in, out of the blue,

pronounces itself,

and then, without further ado,

vanishes back into

the lushness of hush. . .

as is,

the splendor of timing.

embarrassed (haiku) 9/22/12

I know what to say

why should I be feeling this?

outright embarrassed

I see in your eyes * 9/21/12

I see in your eyes

just how fragile you really are

deep, deep within

and it takes my breath away.

I see with what innocence and trust

you venture into the unknown

of each next moment’s enterprise.

So subtle and multi-realmed,

but, for you, inviting

and more so, inevitable.

The embrace is full flush.

Nothing of awareness is held back

or is in search of a conclusion’s reward.

All cells dance as all senses immerse.

Emotions are full face forward

in first person free range of response.

Not to meet up with differences

but to be grateful into the harmonies.

There is no audience, after the fact.

There is no expression

that does not dance of itself.

Fragile implies

no baggage going forward.

Fragile is of the utmost

but without excess,

becoming what is so.

It is with an empathy given

that has no return in mind.

To be all with it

is a surrender of mine,

I see in you.

You are my invitation.

I am helpless to insist otherwise.

So much of what I see

in your eyes,

is a brightness in me,

coming from afar

and yet you confirm,

as it takes my breath away

towards this coming passage.

And the enormity breathes me

into quantum aliveness

as time offers me no resistance,

to be deep, deep, within.

And I see it in your eyes . . .

rendered writing (haiku) * 9/20/12

your face is the page

your feelings hidden stylus

your heart is author

Just with tears * 9/19/12

Writing, as just with tears,

these flood soaked scripts

dismissed with inadvertent blinks.

Alchemical emotives

are these tearful mix into ink.

These feelings,

never deep well dry

but soulfully evaporate

into spirited sky,

as a message, literacy illegible

yet at once, conveyed.

Delicate prose

so that emotions flow,

heart mentored

into a lip whispered

chauffeured stream,

down the cheeks

as if a scripted page,

with the grace

of gravity providing

become a sacred passage.

Each of us,

as authors at that time,

are that open book . . .

Unaware (haiku)

self-consciousness is

a wardrobe we wear when we’re

unaware of soul

follow up on regularity (haiku) * 9/17 12

The regularity

that I am referring to,

is not the act out

that we can see. 

I am referring to

the seed path in the brain, 

below and behind

any behavior.

For me, that is the imprint 

as the origin of the manifest

and as the pattern of origin. 

It is in and of itself 

a synaptic pattern

even though the symbology

and eventual evident behavior

will, with props, present

with whatever is

readily reality available.

And therefore that presentation

is not essentially destined

or pre-determined,

to be, what has all become

somewhat habitually familiar. 

therefore:

the train runs on time.

The tracks are in place.

We, are on the train

but what are we thinking??

And where are we thinking from?

WO, WO! 

What was that sound?

That was the just the train, 

anticipating a crossing ahead.......  

Fragile * 9/17/12

Fragile, is a strength of soul.

It is emerging into this,

our shadowy world,

with no moment of light

more precious

then any other of the rest.

This strength,

as the deep cadence

of sensitive being,

is never disturbed.

Even for all of the bounty

that the art forms of

compartmentalization

and show of strength demand,

these delicacies,

woven of soul unity,

silently abide.

As eddies of this,

believed to be fragileness,

they are, in all ways,

in the stream of things,

although not evidenced as obvious,

these, as traits, may appear

as ever so vulnerabilities,

yet still they essentially dance,

minute refinements as entry points,

in the amass of the whole of being.

Our flow enunciates

as a pronouncement of us,

yet none of these

as fragile particulars

need appear to be justified.

All motion is genuinely respectful

to the fluidity of this cause,

as when fragileness

grandly does appear:

as when avalanche honors gravity,

tsunami bows with waves,

conception offers

an inadvertent spark

of divine intimacy,

and with each breath,

we, as Clydesdales, of human form,

initiates motion,

from simple throb

to arduous trek,

from unconscious inhalation

to breath mastery

into other planes,

this fragileness implores

beneath and behind the obvious.

Secrets, our fragileness

as secrets, only live

in the privacy land

of our self-isolation.

These aspects of us

are defined like noise.

Where by the tern, noise,

is like an eyesore

only because

we name it as such

and honor our ignorance

as masterful.

From secrets to noise,

this is a shattered world

by description,

but not by these

essential fragile means.

We have made ourselves

self-relevant bystanders

in temporal self-involved dares.

We are on a stage we claim

as audience to us,

but there is no truth

to this to share.

Audience is a degradational 

yet we live in its usage..

It represents an imbalance

of human perspective.

In our heart of hearts,

there is no such thing

as practice

or performance either.

All things are but one

and united as such.

We, as the pride

of self-consciousness,

live conundrum lives

in these faceted worlds.

Yet for that

which is labeled as fragile,

but is, as a strength of soul,

our ultimate emergence

is to become one

with this, our truly

fragile world . . .

Regularity (haiku) * 9/16/12

regularity

inescapable patterns

that will define you

Missing * 9/15/12

You are only missing me

in the old ways.

I am only a richer expansion

of the expression of you

to your own eyes.

You are just not that familiar

with yourself that way yet,

and therefore, you call it me.

Where that is in you,

there is a oneness resource.

All we have done,

you and I,

is to expand our fields

to a subtler level

to include a greater sense

of self shared

but we are still ourselves

in that oneness sense.

We each inwardly tap

and we are there.

You are blessed to be you

and you bless yourself

by being you,

and you bless me

by sharing

from that source within.

In that way,

we are not ever

missing the other. . .

Intelligence (haiku) * 9/14/12

how intelligence

seeks to express the whole brain:

unrestrained laughter

The raw rah * 9/13/12

The raw rah of passion

breathes in,

a yet rarified air.

Your skullcap

of self-restraint

begins to absolve,

resolve, dissolve.

That you bit my back hard

is a bootstrap expression

of a false groundedness,

but for now,

you are unbuckled.

Fury, with its own voice,

works its way through you,

imbibed within

your inner writhing.

At first glance,

you appear,

as the look of madness.

But that face of you,

which was previously in

some soft form of stone

is becoming a lucidity,

feverish, and flash dancing.

Soon to arrive,

if your transformation

is to be keyed,

is the full blush

of a blessing presence . . .

into the raw rah of passion,

as the complete flush

of you, beauteously,

into a primal time,

before forever . . .

Heart-speak (haiku) * 9/12/12

feelings are heart-speak

all cells receive this first hand

as embodied heart

Mission: mission within * 9/11/12

They, as commandos,

individually,

though as a group,

unknowingly

took off their military boots

to deftly skulk through

a watercolor swamp

of consciousness

yet commanded by deeds

to then so secretly leave a trail

of colorful footprint tears

in future dry lakebed dreams

for each of them,

many years later

to personally readdress

the moral anomalies

encountered back then

and now,

so privately conquer.