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Sunday, March 31, 2013

stem cut flowers (haiku) 3/31/13

gathering flowers
stem cut, brightly smiling death
offered as a gift

Saturday, March 30, 2013

is * 3/30/13

There is, an is . . .
that is, insatiable, irrevocable,
unrelenting, uncompromising.
There is,
an unrewarding is,
an is with no leverage,
no measure,
no cognitive means,
outside of sensorial methods.
There is an is . . .
of no direction or cause,
no consequences or depiction,
no formalized content.
There is an is . . .
beyond repetition and name
that dispels the notion of boundaries,
an is as seamless death to all events.
There is a featureless is
that does not overwhelm
nor underscore
in which nothing is surrendered.
There is an is . . .
without witness to the disrobing
of experience
yet beyond any notion of compelling
or the method of observation.
There is an is . . .
without sensory introduction
yet contained
in the sharing of every, within.
An is that has no concept of embrace,
an is of presence without resistance,
an is of everywhere,
of time and space, laid bare, 
as a continuing,
quantum of is . . .

Friday, March 29, 2013

storyteller (haiku) 3/29/13

smells tell us stories
who is the storyteller
an herb and spice shop

Thursday, March 28, 2013

familiarity * 3/28/13

Familiarity is a isolationist’s prison.
We, each separately, are its prisoners,
captive in the irons of our expectations,
dressed down is our repetitious behavior.
We are the self-consciousness
as our own wardens,
as we leave endless trails
of our own admissible evidence.
We, the silence
of unceasing self incrimination,
are the bad habits of crime dogs,
caged but none the wiser.
We are the doers of deeds
that are the action-masks
of a deeper guilt.
We, internally, are always on trial.
We are easily the recitations
of never ending injustices.
We are the strategists
for self-inflicted punishment,   
yet always feeling guarded. 
We are presumptively preoccupied
with premise and position,  
and with no freedom of the heart.
Alertness appeals
to our energy reserves,
to be supportive to the cause,
while stress basically steals whenever
and all that it subversively can.
Our morality is a barbed wired
mother figure closely watching.
She is made to be placative, 
yet paradoxically bound up.
We are all within the fall shadows
of original sin.
Our suffering is a storyable effort
at the relevance of consequences.
The retentive mind is a snitch.
Only the irrationally justified    
mischievously beg for forgiveness.
All our meals,    
no matter how lavish, 
can eventually be
familiarity's slop on the tray.
Choice is a thought filled sting operation.
Repetition is the imprisonment,
practiced into unconsciousness. 
Personal rebellion is an afterthought,
once the cuffs of consensual contexts
are already on.
Personality is as familiarity’s defense.
It is a posterized composite
of compromise seeking acknowledgment.
Selfish and selfless
are in the same prison yard.
The Tao of familiarity
would be time spent in solitary,
candidly introspective.
Self, as the parole board,     
is falsely contentious.
Headlines and verdicts live on
as whisperings in the mind.
All that is permission
lives to satisfy accusation.
Familiarity is the evidence storage room,
yet there is free admittance.
Even the now, this very now,   
is only seen
as an unexcused accomplice . . .

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

strange sight (haiku) 3/27/13

an aerial view 
odd look of familiar scene 
unfolding below

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

intensity versus intimacy * 3/26/13

As an experience,
intensity and intimacy
are confluently linked.
They have common interfaces
of sensory experience
and share co-creation,
one accompanying the other.
In defining the sense of one,
the other may substantially appear
as a means of occurrence.
Both use focusing as a primary.
Intensity is crank up the motor,
intimacy is crank up the awareness.
This intensity amping
then has a need
for intimacy precision to execute
while intimacy closeness has a need
for intense mindful care.
A self-sense executes both
as the mindfulness of precision
and the carefulness with precision
can both be supportive towards
release points
for a person to directly account
for their experience.
Confusing one for the other,
in those sensory moments happens
since they are not
mutually exclusive
from one another.
Intention is to both
an introduction for either
of them to initially occur.
Focus also is a necessary element
even if serving
in slightly different ways for both.
Intensity is a rush, a flooding,
a blast that alters
the previous environment radically
while intimacy is an immersion,
an envelopment, an encampment
that amends the previous setting.
In the mind-fill of experience itself
either of these substitute
for what was previous
and therefore deemed themselves
as the chosen fix
or the sensible cure
for the moving next moments onward.
Catching an edge of discernment
as applied to either directly
will always include
some involvement from the other.
There is no versus to this mix.
Intensity acquiesces to intimacy
and intimacy succumbs to intensity.
It’s a vice versa not a versus . . .

Monday, March 25, 2013

taste buds (haiku) 3/25/13

very bland noodles
smothered in sweet and sour sauce
taste buds’ sole delight

Sunday, March 24, 2013

Assistance * 3/24/13

You can assist people
who do not want to be helped.
They are struggling
with proving their own worth.
If you can respect them
from beyond or behind
their struggle perspective,
you offer them a deeper view
than they afford themselves.
Therefore your respect
is to never initiate for them,
never to motivate them.
You are dedicated to discover
their hidden passion
as their very private means
of personal growth.
You become secretly a servant
to eventual acknowledgment
of that cause.
Your means is to expand
their consciousness
and knowledge base
from within
their passion awareness.
No topic is direct.
Friendship of being comes first.
Find ways to assist
expression of their passion.
Connectivity with shared passion
in others, is then possible.
Then, in service,
find resources to manifest passion.
Next steps are natural and organic.
Transformation is the process.
Self-awareness in transit
becomes the means.
Self love manifest 
becomes their shared presence.
Out of a garden of diversity,
oneness blooms in everyone.

Saturday, March 23, 2013

test drive (haiku) 3/23/13

feeling from your hair
so squeaky clean to your hands
just with new shampoo

Friday, March 22, 2013

Dark matters * 3/22/13

We all are living with shadows
of what one does to oneself,
where by we all are traveling
through this kind of dark matter
as a substance
we share, almost unconsciously share
with each other.
When the shadows of a person
become an apparent part
of their fabric of being,
there is an authenticity present
on these walls
that represent self-containment.
And when these walls of darkness
interact with another person’s darkness,
you have the response options
of projection, guilt or blame,
for your own withholdings.
Yet not all of these walls
are guaranteed to become negative
for the structure of one’s consciousness 
includes these possible glitches,
as blind-spot gaps
or as hidden but dynamic
anchors of being.
These as aspects or traits,
can become the fabric
of character development
or of character denial
in a person’s eventual progress,
awareness and personal evolution.
But they’re not the source
of the being.
More so,
they are the hidden part
of the conscious wardrobes
that we come to project
and become,
in contract with others
by the wearing.
All of us,
during the course of our lives,
have a multiplicity
of these wardrobe options
pass before us.
They are for changing or transforming
our apparent self-wardrobe,
by exposing the unconscious sources
of some of our character traits,
and there by being more expanded
and more conscious
as an expression of presence
from our spirit coming through.
Subsequently we are then
less of the projection
that holds together
our world of denials
and more of and in the light
that provides for
our conscious expansion of being.
We all agree to conventions
that include these denials
as part of our interactiveness,
though subtle, with others.
It is part of the great sloop
of riddles, conundrums,
mysteries and koans
that each of us face from within,
even though we are in
the shared practice of acting out
what we can’t source more directly.
Blaming ourselves or blaming others
is only a position of impasse
and lack of personal connection
or depth to see more directly
and more clearly from within.
In the bigger picture,
this confluence of blindness
once dynamically acknowledged,
eventually leads to greater truth.
Developing self-love is the shift
from the illumination of a flashlight
to the enormity of a floodlight
from within, thus going forward.
By these shadows of darkness,
be they caverns, closets,
drawers, blind spots,
or metaphorical dark nights of the soul,
we have methods of awareness
to transform all of these shadows
into self expansion, transformation
and illuminations of our being.
Dark matters . . .

Thursday, March 21, 2013

the broken bell (haiku) 3/21/13

the broken bell’s sound
is just like a dead ringer
for disappointment

Wednesday, March 20, 2013

intimacy * 3/20/13

Intimacy bathes
in the new found warmth
from closely facing the bonfire of life.
Intimacy is secured feelings
from some unexpected
close quarters yet
so sequestered in a calming affect
and then basking in comfort.
Intimacy discovers
that your breath is actually
the dearest tranquility friend.
Intimacy is in speech
among friends that is not
the primary language
of agreement at hand.
It is when
a lot is getting done
and nothing, as an effort, is happening.
Intimacy is when there is a constant
up lifting feeling yet no apparent cause.
It is the shared activity with another
that is of one common weave.
It is when physical closeness
and shared intention aligned.
Intimacy is when
silence becomes so poignantly loud
that there is a share
of the one voice, singing it.                                                                        
Intimacy is a river of presence
close at hand
way beyond sensory account
yet sensory soothing.
It is a blur of boundaries,
a slow-motion blast of expansion
and multiple dimensions
in a cappella harmony.
Intimacy is the beingness
of your person,
giving your self-consciousness
a reasonable context to relax
and embrace behind the how of it all.
Intimacy is
the great aura-soothing acoustics
when your body is all ears.
It is sentences softly heard
before they are actually spoken.
Intimacy is gratefulness,
not in receivership expressed
but in animation of being present.
It is sipping the pool of self
while offering your ocean of being
for others to swim.
Intimacy is tendering 
the softest plumage feathers
out of the knife block stance.
It is pregnant silence
giving birth to a basking
in glowingly endless moments.
Intimacy is rigor without edges,
smiles without physical gestures,
soft eyes given freely,
coalescence from unsaid intentions,
and mutual emergence
dissolving declarable differences.
Intimacy is a focus shift
from a frontal movie screen sense
to an in-the-pool 360 immersion. 
Intimacy is being tucked into
a warm wrap of enormity
filled with spirit aliveness
of self-love, as a soft radiance,
effortlessly shared.
And, of course,
intimacy is an energetic presence,
the hum of it,
childlike in origin and heritage,
radiantly invitational to others,
and truly home to all
as a conscious residence of being . . .

Tuesday, March 19, 2013

thirst relief (haiku) 3/19/13

on a thirsty throat
something bubbly and ice cold
sipped through a large straw

Monday, March 18, 2013

Intensity * 3/18/13

Intensity is
an oncoming internal flood
of unexpected images.
The nervous system in a self-grip,
surrounded within a whirl
of weighted incitements
handled by firing off rounds
of energetic bursts,  
bound to leave the self-chamber
in cave-in spentness.
Intensity is a heaping readiness
brimming and steep to the core.   
It is a steadfast uprightness stance,
afloat in a class five rapids
of needy focused attention.
Intensity is
an infuriated internal beehive
bent on inundation as attack
on any next thing approaching.
Intensity is a sharpen sense,
for facing the impending, 
as a looming explosively means
to counter any potential overwhelm.
It is an escalating sensory buzz,
a compression of fiery duty bound deeds,
hardly yet in a graspable frame.
Intensity is full physical alert,
with fragile stacks of time-swords
whizzing by rather then a metronome’s
sacred swing-gait presence.
Intensity is weighty feelings
from the over-grip of focus
slopped all over
on dutiful close up immediacies.
Intensity is the doom bound feel
for deadlines impending
as if avalanche is eventual outcome.
It is shotgun blasts of adrenaline 
towards undisclosed expectancies.
It is the perception
of impending floodgates opening
behind every next act.
Intensity is accelerated heart rate,
hammering throb down on throb.
It is when still points blur
in the notice field but lucidly,
and when self-animation
is in excess, forward of momentum.
Intensity is clammy over-grips
bumbling towards 
intention’s next fixated move.
It is when memory movies,
brought into frame,
are viewed as fast clip glances
of highlights, after the fact,
and helplessly passing.
Intensity is a logjam of details
monumental, upstream and building.
It is when you are tightly
face-to-face with
the unexpected of everything
as contiguous surrounding you.
It is when
the distant horizon line
is an oncoming enveloping
tsunami onslaught.
It is when there is
an unasked for impending closeness
breathing down
on the back of your neck.
Intensity is when your inherent rights
are inwardly recited by you,
but incomprehensibly quick.
It begets physicality
as if that was a sign language
for venting as an excuse for rage.
And finally,
intensity is an uprising
to deal with the gulp down
as if intensity was the result
from a soup swallowed
that was too hot
by both temperature and spice
and thus,
intensity, is the call to arms . . .

Sunday, March 17, 2013

Suspects (haiku) 3/17/13

a door that you locked
opens unexpectedly 
who could have done this?

Saturday, March 16, 2013

The hobby of experience * 3/16/13

I took up experience as a hobby.
It takes up a lot of my free time
but I mostly enjoy it.
Well lots of people are in to it
but for very different reasons.
Some are professionals.
That never seemed to be my calling.
Yes, I have meet
some of the professionals,
and also some beginners.
I seem comfortable
with what I do with it.
Have some accomplishments.
Have gone to several conventions.
But it hasn’t overtaken my life.
Now, I rarely go to the big events.
Didn’t really save much
in the way of trophies or awards.
I kind of like the daily tending
in small but intimate ways.
Enjoy the hands on
and being creative with the details.
I still keep up with
all the latest developments.
Enjoy the immense diversity out there.
Although it has grown
and is immensely popular,
I still stay close to the basics.
Surely I can see how
it’s not for every one.
But it can help to pass the time
in rich and fulfilling ways.
It seems that simple sharing
seems best for me.
I have no really major projects
on the horizon for now,
but I do get some ideas
and generally follow through.
I think it’s good to have a hobby
and have it for finding a way
of expressing yourself.
There is surprise
to some of the outcomes.
Occasionally, I meet
the most amazing people.
Certainly, for me,
it’s more fascinating then
eighty ways to slice bread.
In the beginning,
I kind of fell into it, to start.
And certainly,
there were enough people around
to begin to share.
The upkeep is minimal,
not a lot of excess involved.
I don’t expect it
to get me into overwhelm,
although there are
infrequent deadlines.
Hey, details can be fun.
Sometimes major themes
take odd turns in the process.
Ever so often,
others are more helpful
then I ever thought possible.
Realistically, there are some shows
but really, there are no winners.
It’s fascinating to see
what gets done
and what others will present.
I think everyone should have
at least one major hobby
to peak their interests.
This one is mine
and it works for me . . .

Friday, March 15, 2013

teeth cleaning (haiku) 3/15/13

the way your teeth feel
to your tongue tip gliding by
post dental cleaning

Thursday, March 14, 2013

what if, but not * 3/14/13

Well, what if I could give you a pill
that you only had to take once
and forever and completely
you would be done with experiencing
as you know it?
And, and in doing so
you became enlightened?
Yes, enlightenment
with no more normal experiencing.
Would you be willing to do that?
Would you want to do that?
Be enlightened
and not experience much
in the same way as you do now.
You would experience,
as in sensory awareness, input,
the world around,
but it would not be the same
or have the same affect on you.
Say if it was like,
your experience of life
would seem like window shopping,
in that everything relevant
would be seen as reflections
from a glass surface back at you
and there would be glass vastness
all around.
You wouldn’t be interested
as to what is through the glass,
as if those things
were from the desire plain, now,
in its vagueness to you.
Yes, there would be activity
but nothing to really distract you
from the beingness,
within and all around.
You would be multi-realming
but without memory or depiction
and cognitive ingestation to bother. 
Particulars and your way
of addressing them would have shifted.
There is no concern for them
to rise to the foreground of presence
or even the interest
in using observation
for critical or discernment purposes.
It is all getting done
but without personal involvement
as a self acknowledgment
or identification need.
Nothing is of consequence
as out of the ordinary.
And ordinary has no shelf life
towards meaning.
Meaning has no inward audience
of distractive impact.
Consciousness does not have
a self-riddle.
The enormity of oneness provides.
Well, just between you and me,
we were all given that pill.
It is already working,
but with some people,
slower than others.
Actually every human was given one,
but with dosage amount,
transfer method, absorption,
esoteric ingestation and tolerance,
personal temperament,
experiential masking,
sensory indulgence,
cultural intolerance,
other more widely varied methods
of socially constructed avoidance,
or even simple forest for the trees,
it may not be substantially activated
enough, given the normal life span
timelines or projections.
So it’s a ‘what if, but not’, guaranteed,
until you personally notice for yourself
what is inwardly happening to you
as a consciousness possibility . . .