oh so secret 3/31/16

making that strong postural stance

but then, not being nervous system statuesque

can be a emotional challenge
that is not readily self observed except by shadows.
you can have your busyness and your muse of order

and your load of tacit responsibilities
but that is all incessant wardrobe

to the imminence of the issue at hand.
find for me that secret self dialogue

of your inner transcript without editing marks.
send me an imaginary photo of the free-fall

that you have so thoroughly trusted in all along.
tap me into the water source that holds

that vase of you and thus the flowers

of your presence for just this moment’s worth.

and let me sip at that!
you may thoroughly feel like you are alone

but you are not a long lost albatross by nature

flying ocean skies in dialogue with wind currents

as if they are your uplifting momentary worth.

your invisible wardrobe even your current apparel

are loud and distracting, away from the subtle lips

that say the truth of you in spite of your pronouncement.

you are a monolith of secrecy casting huge shadows

where emotional shading tells your story

oh you are so secret, blinded by your own soul . . .

all rocks fly 3/30/16

All rocks are really flying of their own accord but by the slowest possible forms that we could ever come to appreciate. Oh sure they may all be moving vibrationally in their apparent stillness but flying by our terms of recognition and then acknowledgment, not so much. We have a very limited list of visual associations we would perceive as rocks flying but those are not by their own means. We have versions of rocks hurled as in retaliatory efforts of peoples against other peoples. We have the volcanic version from explosive means. We have the acquired possession of rocks considered esthetically pleasing that get moved by human mandate and demonstrative need as in door stop, geologic valuables, garden positionings, bookends, landscape accounts from boulders to almost granulars, and, of course climbing mishaps from human gripping circumstances. Our personal timelines make rocks flying irrelevant otherwise. There is no flight comparison between a rock and a butterfly or a bird or even something ballistic. It is just not believable in the relevant course of things. Yes, we are willing to acknowledge that mountains do, ever so slowly, migrate to the sea and the actions of erosion either by wind or water   or thermals may feature rock diminishment until as dust swept ups, my god, it flies (!), becomes shockingly evident. But in the grossness of this theory, rocks flying of their own accord are a muse of paradox or contradiction given well-earned perceptual account. Look, rock came into matter at some point and at another, rock will totally and completely disappear, dissolved, loose its form back to essence, the same as we. Hey, teeth, bones, tissue and rock will all have their time. And rocks will fly before they are gone even if only as dismissible dust carried up by the favors of wind but nonetheless, timelines being what they are for each of us, dust with rock identity will fly as well as bird and dirt all get to sing . . .

26th contemplation of desire 3/29/16

Desire is the force to jettison wisdom

as excess baggage

like the "Tao of Insurance" maxim:

"better be.

then be safe or sorry."

oneness beyond the whittle-down 3/28/16

 We are all unitedly leaping whatever level of leap need be.    Out of divided leaps, united by ecstatic co-incidence means,  the collective self is in the rush, disrobing and unraveling      the terms of engagement for experience of each of us.            Yes, wisdom is a slippery commentator on life,          negotiating perception's agreement with intention                    as experience is a self-application.                                              But understanding's approval of said applications                      is probably more so in defense of what’s been done already.  Oh somewhere in the whittled down of this wisdom,            leaps are a possibility, as if blessed were luck                          and we'd all fall up.                                                                      Yet, we are inevitable but we all individually lack                          the popularity of say, like the Immaculate Conception.          Some of our failure's successes and our success's failures        are not regarded as worthy enterprises                                       as if we are all marching off into the night                                   of the weakest flashlight.                                                               Even if that be so, as a shared ritual,                                           we are all grandly coming together by whatever of these means. We, as that collective, absorb the shock waves                            by some means of our shared soul belief system,                          the way roots need wind, as stimulation for growth.                     These are the rigors of the collective of us,                              without the acquiescence of us evident.                                    There is a oneness,                                                              somewhere behind or beyond the whittle-down                              and we are there and coming from there                                      in all other most amazing ways . . .

let spirit (haiku) 3/27/16

never change your props

only wear you act out from

let spirit be source

nothing 3/26/16

there is nothing stopping us

but the politeness of form

we have come to feel captured

and engaged in such perceptions

we have built a heritage of encasement

and call that our life on earth

we have embraced time as our mentor

created stories we tell in time’s presence

we have grandfathered a sense of entitlement

that we feel responsible to fulfill

we are species myopic

in the grandness of scale

there is nothing stopping us

but the ‘us’ phenomenon we promote

is as a collections of separates, falsely unified

there is a matrix free-fall in the universe

and we are part of that ongoing elaboration

yet of limited consciousness to fully participate

we yearn and are drawn in secretive ways

ways of attraction without authentication per se

we made up religions and deities to account for us

we invented systems of belief to assure

we pursued retentive mind in fight or flight modes

and thus the experience of spine-tingling to boot

we have dedicated brain parts to chemically defend us

and experience styles of narrow-minded self accounts

but still, there is nothing stopping us

that’s right, nothing is stopping us, nothing

but then, ‘nothing’ is our human term

for something of no importance, a naught

yet its existence haunts us beyond ‘nothingness’

our inability to grasp or participate in nothing

keeps us in check, restrained, duly confined

as we venture into nothing that we know about

and yet, there is ‘nothing’ stopping us . . .