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Sunday, June 30, 2013

Tragedy served (haiku) 6/30/13

courage to be there
amazed we had stamina
just challenged to be 

Saturday, June 29, 2013

the suspected history of edge * 6/29/13

The only edge in existence
is a human’s conclusion.
It can vary in form
be it a judgment,
the work of language,
sensory input limitations,
the conveniences of cognition,
even the sinewy work
of loosely gathered expectations.
No form, upon further, detailed
magnification as examination
really has an edge.
Edge is a term of expediency,
an over simplification of story,
a Machiavellian right of passage,
a gloss of pragmatic efficiency,
the premiere of isolationism.
If you see edge,
you objectify,
you claim distance,
you identify as separate,
you are alone among the lonely.
Edge has an oral history.
We all agree to agree.
Share the verbal wealth
but secretly, live as liquidity
beyond that meaning assigned . . .

Friday, June 28, 2013

Here we are (haiku) 6/28/13

clear, spirit has passed
left to deal with the fallout
to celebrate life

Thursday, June 27, 2013

the 4 horsemen of the mind * 6/27/13

Cognition of itself,
is already metaphorical.

Attention span
is the gait of thinking.

Rational thought
is a foregone hyperbole.

And meaning
is inadvertent plagiarism.

Wednesday, June 26, 2013

Aftermath (haiku) 6/26/13

within each of us
much will burst forth afterwards
our shock will soon pass

Tuesday, June 25, 2013

owner’s manual of feel-tank * 6/25/13

A brain-trust,
not from the think-tank of self,
but from a feel-tank of affection.
Pronounce for yourself 
what manifest into timely mind-frames
of amiable recognition.
Reveal to yourself
all of the specific action rules
of this internal transition.
How recognition portrays.
Who of you who witnesses.
What manner of discernment
yields the purest observations
as new bandwidths of heart intelligence.
Recognizes that part of you as affection,
caring in return,
yielding the purest awareness
of this embrace.
A sense of soulful cellular intelligence
vibrationally in play,
as the emergence of heart.
Thus a brain-trust is forged
from a feel-tank of affection . . .

Monday, June 24, 2013

So much (haiku) 6/24/13

so much confusion
so much left unsaid, undone
chaos opens hearts

Sunday, June 23, 2013

experiences do not happen * 6/23/13

Experience itself hands out an afterglow,
an outcome as deposition for the retentive mind,
comparisons well up as eventual composition, 
encounters with self-conscious as witness,
as a reporter to, of, and for.
Imagine experience is pre-thought,
an empty screen composed 
of outpouring presence,
a newborn before engagement 
then becomes notability's clamor, 
a nanosecond's accumulation of memory 
that becomes a lump some
in recognition's trough of awareness, 
followed by a shutter’s click-shift 
and focus dressed up
as notice's fresh face with details
wearing cognition's trappings.
Experience is before particulars, 
before senses assume 
through that fixation drill, 
when vision was still a gaze 
of a wide horizon embrace,
while hearing was an overwhelming silent fill,
before touch was outside the fluid womb,
before energy succumb to piƱata representations,
before subject-object short hand
became the norm of objectification.
Experience offered nothing, 
no convention by essence, 
no mandate of agreement.
It, in essence, precedes the maneuvering of time. 
Experiences do not happen to any one.
It is they and of them 
and then we make a self of us out of it 
who experiences as expressions
made of accountability’s means.
Assumptions stand blindly behind words.
The windmill is mind fill 
but selflessness is experience, 
as breeze . . .

Saturday, June 22, 2013

a mess (haiku) 6/22/13

there were no reasons
things wound up the way they did
people left so sad

Friday, June 21, 2013

livingness * 6/21/13

Bare witness and render care,
for your thinking is the great provider
for your bank account of thoughts.
And the refuse from your thoughts
may become your verbiage.
Words, as personalized pronouncements
that as assertions ride shotgun
to each of your individualized actions.
These dealings over time,
are the deed articulations
of well defined habits.
Habits stand and walk tall
as the profession of character.
And for each of us,
character is the script of destiny.
Each person, as a person of destiny,
is often well read,
as the page after page of their life.
No religion is a higher truth
than this livingness decrees . . .

Thursday, June 20, 2013

startling (haiku) 6/20/13

when this is over
we all have our lives again
amazing what’s learned

Wednesday, June 19, 2013

A timeless surrender * 6/19/13

So often, when I look in to your eyes, as much as
I am stepping into a rich environment
that is inviting yet it is shielded from the free pass
of all other things entering,
I am both embraced in something greeting me
by fulfillment and held back by questioning myself,
whom of me I sent into your eyes to meet you.
I know little about that part of me
yet it is ever on its way to address you.
You seem to make sense of this entry
and recognition from you comes easy.
I know not who this is who speaks for me there
that you take to heart so readily.
I have given you something I don’t own as me.
I have offered something that is not clearly
or exclusively mine to give, but did.
I am confused by the going forth
but cannot withdraw nor recede.
I am an effort to be as comfortable as you
with what I have sent, not knowing its message
or your amazing ease of acceptance.
I cannot speak for it but mean well.
Allow me to overhear our dialogue within you.
You give a warmth I embrace and yet I hide
my reluctance, based on my worth to myself.
Whatever is happening as me, as us,
is out of my control.
I have only been a messenger of myself to me
and not the truth you see, professed in your presence.
I do not know how that happens.
How the who of me sees to it to honor
the who of you that it meets.
And the overwhelm of response you provide for me
to accept as myself in the exchanges we share
back and forth, are as ever expansive.
There is no gravity in my field.
I am weightless to myself and my heart has a life
I have never seen before now.
So much I am the cast of myself
but never the source or the delight directly.
And now my soul is your light and your soul
is my light going forth in self-discoveries that we share
without questioning or comparison.
I am to the horizon in all directions in your presence.
Somehow as I get out of my way, 
expansion happens in both of us, 
as wonderment feeds discovery.
I have never been so helplessly happy
over nothing of evidence as happening.
I am, by your presence, 
so much more of the offerings 
that come through me to honor your attendance.
The world will never be so foreign
or vacant to me any more.
Your presence has become a perfume of permission
that I willingly give of every moment going forward.
A timeless surrender now guides me
as I am carried in your heart as mine . . .

Tuesday, June 18, 2013

serious accident (haiku) 6/18/13

people brought flowers
they talked quietly to me
accidents happen

Monday, June 17, 2013

the nature of frame breaks * 6/17/13

Starts with the nature of frame, holding constant
towards continuous recognition.
It is reasonable, logical, sensible
accountable, justifiable, understandable.
All these are major contributors
to the nature of frame.
Even storyline, what you do,
and the methods of doing,
all support the usage of frame.
The frame even has an economy
called reductionism or simplification      
or objectification, or cause and effect,
all working towards frame.
The presentation of a symbolic world
yields towards frame.
Literacy demands frame, assumes frame,
is dependent on frame.
Time, for all of its pseudo motion,
is fundamentally the representation of frame.
So much of the out there stuff for us
is in frame.
So much so
that we cannot relate to the rest
unless it is brought into frame.
It has to be brought to us,
brought to our prison,
our personalized cell,
placed on our sensorial tray, as framed.
It isn't that it is,
because it is framed.
It isn't that we are
because we pursue it in frame.
It's the nature of frame
as we are the process generative to frame.
Our essence as is-ness
is not to be as a known-ness.
Our preoccupation with frame
keeps us circumventive to what is
and as it is.
So the deeper we go into is-ness
without frame,
the more essence exudes unnoticed.
Therefore the identification of frame break
is initially a contrast
or in contradiction to frame,
yet very much the stickiness of frame
attending to framing.
None the less, frame break,
for the lack of straightforwardness,
is potentially an is-ness
or the path of undressing the frame,
and therefore an unspecified ooze
of is-ness located everywhere
in between definiteness,
yet somewhere just outside of
common everyday observation.
It is somewhere ever so near
to almost every sensory intake
but not!

Vacations are the Neanderthals
of frame break endeavors.
They can be very large, extended
and thus consuming.
They can devour large chunks
of time and space.
They can consume massive amounts
of daily attention and course,
yet be specified for us,
as having easy access
to ‘same ol same ol’.
They feature comparative creature comfort
and many levels of the superlatives of know.
Potentially, enlightenment,
can be a frame break,
a long drawn out, possibly permanent, 
course of frame break.
Relentless and un-rewarded
as that may sound,
it is a way of being
that has no familiarity, no value,
no common sense of worth,
wouldn't know a bargain to buy,
can't really be eventually construed
as a vacation from ordinary life,
would be inaccurate to refer to it
as permanent,
but still somewhere out there
on the far side of frame break.
It is probably deep beneath the expected
in the heart-heat of frame,
just like how human bodies
are way mostly space
and pretty much empty space at that.
But yet we labor the mass of it.
We politicize this mass as it.
We deeply depend on the mass
to occupy our symbols,
to slow down and dim our perceptions,
so that these notions
of constant and solid and static
seem to apply.
Where recognition has a life of reference
and our knowing seems to give us a swagger
of relevant impact.
Frame is a damn good fulfillment
of experience, as experience became
a great concept that turns out to be
another surrogate to is-ness
as we responsively pay all the reality bills
by living it, right deep in the heart of frame,
in the refrain of frame break.
Yet there goes is-ness,
un-massed, unnoticed,
til the twain of never . . .
Such is the nature of frame
and frame breaks . . .

Sunday, June 16, 2013

to me (haiku) 6/16/13

at this stage of life 
meaningful moments, though short
are blessings to me

Saturday, June 15, 2013

dancing to get out of my skin * 6/15/13

This all starts with my nostrils,
as hammock wide and flared.
In-breathes fashion as motionless breezes
that come on in as off shore flows.
Melodies enter from far-flung distances
that beckon as out of sight beacons that soothe.
Clouds shape themselves into wearable soft shoe.
My physical animation is myopically on a scale
as large as, fog banks on a roll.
Movement is accomplished by absorption
then set free as rain filled emotions releasing.
Thunder drum skins split into bandwidth wide headbands, loosely tied and farsighted streaming.
Rhythm is a commingle beat
as an ever wave-front expanding.
The harmony itself is of one collect heart
without seams or surface.
Any other inducements dance,
hand in hand and cheek to cheek.
The dance floor itself has deep pool as its safe
and sound surface while evaporation is
as its ongoing under foot surrender of means.
Every dip in the dance reveals
deeper as the lone desire.
When fully engaged, I am the nowhere whirl
that everywhere passes through.
Dancing to get out of my skin,
is this evocative enormity as hum,
music everywhere without sound,
yet ever the dancing from within . . .

Friday, June 14, 2013

People (haiku) 6/14/13

knitted together
people are present in some way
towards the same light

Thursday, June 13, 2013

Karma is Koan * 6/13/13

From my perspective,
Karma is internal field disturbance
between manifest self and true spirit.
These are dysfunctional reality act-outs
of consciousness’s inefficiency.
The goal of Karma is to re-fabric
these disturbance patterns
so that a re-connectivity
to higher consciousness occurs.
The internal driver for this process
is a drawn-ness from within
for a clearer and purer quantum sense
of oneness.
This higher consciousness “echo-calling”
comes through our heart-brain,
which penetrates
our apparent reality preoccupation.
The mind brain may take up this cause
with initial symbology as represented
by behavioral, ambient environmental,
and traumatic emotional,
all somehow linked together.
When enough cues jointly occur
for conscious recognition,
there is an internal reference point shift
in a field presence way.
So whatever drove the ‘act-out’,
now provides an integrative entry point
to a higher consciousness
with and from self.
We are all chasing this mystery of self
as if it were a self assigned Koan.
Once embodied beyond the Karma,
Koan is resolved, dissolved and absolved . . .

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

love comes (haiku) 6/12/13

informal setting
where we find love simply comes
without a request

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

this moment of high farce * 6/11/13

Giving in to eventfulness’s eminence,
accepting sensory’s input as overload,
acknowledging self-consciousness
as a conclusionary method,
our undisclosed cosmic inner play
is intermittently layered
between authority, order, and morality
as a reality glaze.
Our constant moment of being
is also simultaneously filled
with both frolic and sham.
Mundaneity has extraordinary leakage
into excess baggage.
Each moment is a take-off
on the self-status in flight.
High farce, as a cut up,
is eventually served on every flight . . .

Monday, June 10, 2013

I’m lost (haiku) 6/10/13

I know how life goes
when pain comes up, then I’m lost,
only for a time

Sunday, June 9, 2013

these things called expectations * 6/9/13

I have asked the universe to slap me,
well slap me hard, hard enough to get my attention, 
every time I have an expectation that isn’t met. 
And then I pleaded with the universe 
to give me an indelible gold star every time 
I have an expectation that is met. 
And what I discovered over time, 
well slowly over time, since I seemed to be 
very distracted from what I apparently
whimsically asked for 
and the universe reluctantly provided, 
was a twofold message that became perfectly, 
well startling clear. 
The first part is that I discovered 
that I am an expectation addict. 
I thought all along that I had
a sense of myself, my true self. 
But what I have come to understand is,
that I may have had a sense of self
but that got somewhat secretly replaced 
by my expectant self. 
I would have a thought and then 
my expectant self would have an expectation 
to top or trump that thought. 
It has become an expectant-self piggyback paradise.
There is hardly a clear thought that comes 
without some expectation dimension in a reframe. 
Nothing is really here any more. 
It is always on its way to somewhere else 
for some other thing 
to happen with it or to it as me! 
I feel like a pizza delivery guy inside my head. 
Whatever the thought is/was, 
I’m taking it to some place else, pronto. 
I am living the internal rush, as an act out
hurrying along from whatever now I’m in.
I’m not really here as I am always in transit. 
The paint on the wagon of self never really dries 
and the wagon never stops moving 
and I am not driving but riding shotgun! 
Also I have become self-consciously, 
a fearful anticipation junkie 
in reaction to my initial reaction.
Enough said, if you’ve been there. 
Okay, for the second part, I have become 
an internal hoarder of gold stars. 
Yes, it was initially nice to get indelible gold stars 
on a somewhat regular basis. 
I appreciated all of it, in the beginning. 
It was like a level of positive reinforcement 
that I really liked 
which is a kind of hidden clue right there. 
I mean I genuinely liked it, to start. 
But then, as the stars begun to accumulate, 
I started to notice, the inscriptions, 
I mean the what-for expectancies 
that I was getting from the stars. 
There were lots of repeats. 
Patterns appeared, incessancy seemed to be in play. 
After enough of this, a story emerged.
A story that was my expectant me that was 
apparently directing this expectation syndrome, 
and it all, ever so slowly, has become evident. 
Not real in the world to any one else 
but evident to me by the trail of expectation crumbs 
that I witness, created, and have followed.  
More than a meal but not really very nourishing. 
At some point, I had some many many stars
that I had to come up with a system for storage. 
Sure memory was one place 
but that lead to another problem. 
Because of the repeats, 
I was then constantly reminded 
of the themes in general and also the particulars 
of these gold expectation star as incidents. 
Privately, it became personally embarrassing. 
It seemed like I was an endless car wash of neediness. 
It was like I had no true sense of myself 
that was not reinforced by others 
meeting my superficial expectations ongoing. 
It was like we each had a contract with each other 
to meet each other’s expectations 
but in my case, I secretly kept getting gold stars 
for each instance. 
The apparent dependency on others 
for this silly positive reinforcement 
became a realization and a burden. 
It reminded me of when you repeat a phrase 
over and over, so much so 
that it has no meaning any more. 
It is just senseless babble. 
But I still have to deal with the gold stars as indelible 
and thus storage and that realization. 
I am not myself any more. 
I am a custodian who works for my expectant self-24/7. 
You’d think I could get fired or quit, but no. 
Expectations are like a human currency 
that we constantly exchange. 
It is a case of bad fairy godmother wishes 
to compensate for
low self worth that have gone horrible wrong. 
First the star thing made me sick,
then the gold made me sicker, 
then the glitter made me the sickest. 
If I see another expectation, it will be too soon. 
NO, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. 
Look, I have self worth, but I have little time now 
outside of expectancies and custodials. 
I am going to have to secretly move 
to some other source point awareness universe 
where expectations are not the norm 
or the primary means of consciousness.
Expectations, they’re everywhere. 
Have to live with them 
but certain to find a deeper self-wealth 
to not live by them . . .