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Wednesday, December 31, 2014

not present (haiku) 12/31/14

able to be there
even when I said I would
couldn’t find a way

Tuesday, December 30, 2014

The think of it 12/30/14

Think as it becomes thought, is an interjection. Its methods of substantiation are an enterprise. It’s preoccupational by nature in our consciousness. We are in the capture of a pinhole view of life through a paper bag over our head method. Brain dominance results and an assumed state of full awareness is both rewarded and unchallenged. This is ever so painful for all comprehensively enrolled, for it is not at the source of think. We are a chain gang of convention and account not realizing the binds. We reinforce the obligation and the negatively implied underbelly of an affirmation of symbology as necessary to our causes and therefore subscribe to the prison of distance in perspective and our separateness as assumed in a Sisyphus style. We are diversional and compartmentalize in syntactical ways. Generally our methods of approach in awareness are not self-invitational in nature. We really make no true effort to go to the acclaimed “it” as much as we expect the it of “it” to come or succumb to our pseudo investigation there of. We have pretended separateness into a science and our notion of objectification into a creed. Our lifetimes are spent in walking in large circles never discovering the center point as source or ascending in a spiral sense of wisdom. Our mantra of familiarity supersedes our notion of ascendency. Our languaging style is a hall of vanishing mirrors of meaningfulness. Every handshake, every embrace, every act of intercourse is blazed with assumptions and convictions of isolation and separateness involved. These as behaviors are not acts that celebrate the oneness of being but more so are the eventful connection of two separates. These are burdensome rituals laden with recovery from denials. Myth-fully there was never any event as that is the structure of our framing and naming method, which hinders the depth of the flow. No next moment is self conscious about the one that has just imminently passed. Think is an intimacy yet withheld by the handcuff-thoughts that bind us. Conclusions become the cuffs of a still-shot world cataloged as memories and principles fading in their need for formal application as a self-sense of identity ever slipping away. There is an essence to think but a true doubt to thought. Thought is never in the now. Thought patrols think to scavenger and guarantee that no think is the channel of being and light. The assumption being that all of think is the workhorse for thought to govern. Think is a channeled existence with no half-life of concern or reasoning. Our environment from thought is preoccupational clutter and we referentially are buried in it. Yet think continues with or without conscious approval or attend. Our think is telepathic. It is wordless until capture. It occurs outside of time but is rendered in a timely way. Think is a medium of heartfelt oneness but not in a expedient manner. Think is in all ways, a step forward but thought is always a stall point step-back in return. Think in the emptiest of ways, hold vision as empty of content. Let nothing distract you from immersion. No mind-grip to attend. No recognition to justify. No page to turn. No account toward script. Think is vast without handles and mindless bliss without demonstration or results . . .

Monday, December 29, 2014

clear to me 12/29/14

Like a warm nest
cools in twig's memory,
now, there is sunlight
in places we each wore
as spirit safehouses.
Though these places
where our spirits were but left,
now, show no signs of ever fading.
Even as I feel for there,
although growing cold,
they are clear to me
as their subtly of light finds me,
from there, where we were,
to here, and ever glows . . .

Sunday, December 28, 2014

Hardwired Mannequins 12/28/14

She raises her arms,
an imaginary blouse comes off.
She wants me bored with her nudity.
My eyes return to hers.
It's the first moment,
profoundly, once again.
We meet there, easily.
Eyes lock, taking off the memory,
returning to an emptier gaze,
full of expansion and bright.
What to do with the grand fullness
of time as freedom
unmasked before us.
Here we are maps of desire,
fabric of limitations,
defending each other
to an invisible crowd,
yet running through
the common house of our bodies,
untying all the balloons,
spilling all the rules,
letting all the myths pour out.
Solids to liquids to auras to light . . .

Saturday, December 27, 2014

Looking back (haiku) 12/27/14

how does it feel now
and was there anything else
we could have done then

Friday, December 26, 2014

From 12/26/14

From an immortal perspective, experience is really only at the fa├žade stage of human development. That humans accepted time and space as a dilemma and a conundrum is a peculiar means of proprietary involvement. And this is done in such a convoluted way as if understanding, done in this style is the lighted path, the means of evolution, and the holy grail of the prize. Mind, in this method, is excess baggage on the journey. We, as those humans, seem to want to take elaborate mental emblematic decals along that weigh more than the self of baggage does! The need for a firm grip and gathered wherewithal for travel are falsehoods but we have an identification prerogative that, “as separate from”, we need to get from here to there in such a manner. Hopefully this is not a genetic default prerogative. As if we were, say, a four or six or twelve strand DNA, would this method of evolution be much the same? From an immortal perspective, hardly the medium of understanding from twelve strand DNA would be recognizable, much less the substance of the content. We seem to render ourselves as pittance, and pursue symbolic metaphorical representation as our preoccupation of being avoiding the discreet subtly of one mind, one being, throughout the all of us as the universe both manifest and does not occupying any matter. So many dimensions, so little represented in mass. From an immortal perspective, the choir of the all-isness sings and we, each individually, search for that choir book, the correct page number, the timing that linearity offers as if that would yield the appropriate line while yet unconsciously humming the melody in sync already but not self-realized as embodied in the song…

Thursday, December 25, 2014

to share (haiku) 12/25/14

all live for something
some seem more ready to share
what is richly theirs