its nice outside today, my plants are growing well.

Green Carrot
The use of money seems to be just as the carrot is to the donkey, leading us on with sweat on our brow, until we reach our deathly destination. We hope for that reward, and indeed we get an insatiable piece now and then, but the whole of the carrot is never devoured. This burden is something I wish to escape, but I know not how. This carrot has been worshiped enough to the extent that it has godly powers over men, controlling who lives and who dies. There is no refuge even in my land, because it is expected that I pay for the use of my country. Where can I go that I will live in peace without being in debt for my happiness? For even a child cannot be born without owing something to a system that it does not choose to belong. I love our people, but that does not imply consent to their beliefs, or their actions.

The Mental Block in a Beverage

“The greater part of what my neighbors call good I believe in my soul to be bad, and if I repent any thing, it is very likely to be my good behavior. What demon possessed me that I behaved so well?” - Henry David Thoreau in Walden-

Just as Thoreau refused all alcoholic drinks because, so he said, they might destroy his taste for water, I say, killing germs is the only thing alcohol is good for. But yet it seems it has been adopted as this nation’s coveted and single indulgence, a reward at the end of a hard day’s work. Yet, in adults and teenagers alike, it is also a vehicle for escape from this very system we call a nation. Again, my opinion is that if an escape is needed it can be obtained simply by flipping on a mental switch which can just as easily distort perception, without the headache or drunken stupor. This is my “high”, as some may put it, all while legally and pleasantly gained. Though, I see that most do not have to courage to apply themselves directly in solving their own problems, or even to use more energy than they have to for making themselves feel good. I see it all around me, and as the quote above states the core of my feelings, it is as if I’m the odd man out. To see that it is so accepted and never questioned makes me quickly interrogate my own conscience. For there must be something wrong, with me…or as I finally concluded it must be something wrong in those whom I observe using this substance. I regretfully admit to experiencing this drunken state, some three years ago at the age of 17, and resolved to never intake it again. Is it that I have matured much quicker than my peers?, for the majority that I see pays no thought to the morality and physical implications that this voluminous intake of alcohol creates. I feel that it would tear down all the morals I hold, some do not understand this, but I am my own harsh judge and to have drink would be to go against my nature, and I say it’s against my religion, for I see them as the same. I suppose some drink out of something society labels “peer pressure” and others may drink from normality, as derived from family and friends. But very few at my age drink for the savor of taste, which in a beverage is necessary for full enjoyment. So, it is that they must drink for drunkedness - a state of drowning life and purpose, as I see it. Undoubtedly it changes personal qualities and emotions, only temporarily. Some welcome this change because they depressingly don’t like who they are, and looking for the quick and easy way out, resort to alcohol in hopes they might like who they become. This, to me, is the most painful part of humanity to know, for us to think that substances can change us positively. Rather, I hope most will realize, as I do, that any change must start in the mind, be it physical or emotional. There are no external objects which can create change on the inside. This mind is the most powerful form of “alcohol” or any substance, for it does as the will commands; as a high state of consciousness can just as easily be obtained by climbing high in a tree. This state of mind, derived from mental tribulations, easily creates a fulfilling peace and this is worth the effort – and, if the individual is willing, it can remain permanent. As I say it is merely hope that I hold for this to be understood because I do not hold myself to be one to educate or preach, or even use actions to affect life changes on others. As to my writing, I simply hope to invoke further thought in the reader, and do not expect change, for this must come about by the individual, in his or her own realizations. This is the only effective (and also highly enjoyable) way to reformation and enlightenment. So just ponder and discover where it is you want to go. Know that what we put in our bodies deeply affects our mental perceptions and can support or degrade the happiness we seek.

Dandelion Queen Running Quick Through Me

You’re not a double chocolate sin, but I know who is
No, not a sin but I know what is
Blank faces, blank hands, fueled by logs of egotism
I write my name down in the dirt
The people laugh until it makes them hurt
You see them rolling around with tears in their eyes
It makes you wonder if they’re really alive
It makes you wonder what you’re doing here
But that’s a story for another day,
That’s a story for another day

Well it just so happens I’m walking down the street
Brothers always giving me peace and love
The most I can do is give it right back
It feels so good to give it right back
I smile and greet, and give it on to the next
The Dandelion queen sees all that’s been seen
So don’t back me up when I say it’s not right
I don’t need, I always believe
The Dandelion queen is running quick through me

Bound to be something someday
Round the corner to the next
Now I don’t need any of your names
For energy represents itself
So special, indeed it is
Knowing that all the words don’t mean a thing
All our actions would be missing something
Without out a loss
There is no gain
So forget all the pleasure and go for the pain

Oh I found the double chocolate sin again
It’s just an arms reach away
But something’s there that wasn’t there before
Too many sparkles of sugar
A sweet tooth outshines its glamour
I just don’t feel tempted anymore
All this stickyness has gone away
I’m just so much cleaner than I was before
I simply enjoy sitting cross legged
On the beach, on some dirt, on any carpeted or hard wood floor.

Pressure to the Way
I look at you
With not judgment nor contempt
Ignorance is not a luxury permitted to me
With knowledge comes morals
And morals rightly confine actions
For to scale one of these internal walls
Is to raise chaos in the head
No, I can not choose this devolvement
That which my heart knows deeply
But my head wants to forget
Its not suffering or pleasure
It is living with the way in mind
Conscious activity should not be denied nor pressured.
It is this that can shake hands with a lion,
And allow life to take its course

A Goddess Took My Senses

Bear arms, bear neck
Then look upon curves
Desire, lust, love?
What have you,
Flypaper for eyes to stick upon
A flick of hair
A bat of lash
A vacuum every time
You know not what you do
What we are is what we see
Water to reflect on the surface
Or pierce deep into the unknown
Two ways in which
An open heart bleeds to insanity
Every cent of time paid
To glazing eyes over a golden goddess
Is only but sense setting off to wander
I know agony, burning alive
For I can’t renounce
Romance is a leg I can’t cut off
For to notice the beauty is not to lust
Not to obtain and defile
But to give love and feel equal on both sides
For the unsurpassed perfect nature
In which these bodies walk
Must be as miraculous
As the feet of Jesus standing on water
The feeling felt is to want nothing
But for the moment to consume all time
An exploding star needs sunglasses
To see as my eyes do see

The Oldest trick in the Book

What’s it like,
To follow blindly
Trusting in gravity
Ups and downs.
There’s no need to look
Stop and smell smiles.
Breathing becomes
Just an option,
Take or leave
This task of living.
My cup is full
But my soul is empty
These gadgets and the like
Have spun me
Swinging for a piñata
I can see just fine
It’s my mind that’s blind,
So I ask you,
Have you
Realized this too?


One in the Moment

It seems to me that it has always been lost to me, put into the fleeting future, where nothing ever comes true. Our goals, the very drive of our actions, seek some reward, something which will come soon, but not now. These actions keep us slaves, freedom is another song sung during our monotonous work we call life. What about tomorrow, for it will surly never come, and I will never be satisfied. So it has come down to sundown and it’s a duel between today and tomorrow, the odds are on today but tomorrow is its best friend. Its this dilemma that rips my chest open, imploding from the inside. However, I would rather have mere physical pain than this psychological wrecking ball, constantly tearing my thoughts from being able to sit quietly in the present. These demands, these people they don’t know what they’ve got. Its all right here, and to continue like this, to spend life avoiding death, is to just spend life…nothing more. It is never to live, except chemically and legally, because all our memories for something more that what we could ever have. All we do have, all we can have and all that we will ever have is this moment, this very breath that you take and all the tastes in your mouth and the smells in the air. The beauty you see now is all you ever need, and death is something that just happens, naturally, when we become one in the moment.

Way At Work

Lately I have seen the way at work. If you let it be, it just is, and that’s the way it is. When you give up, with nothing and no reason to resist, then everything makes perfect sense. There were things beyond my control and I tried to control them. This makes you inevitably frustrated, and left with an unaccomplished feeling. Depressing and quite powerless. But it is this that can set you free, to know that you are powerless is to be in accord and able to do what you do. The things that must get done are done, and the things that are hindered are not ready to unfold. This has led me to not know anything at all and not care about it. When it happens, it happens. When in this state of mind there is nothing to go wrong, it is all right. For if it wasn’t ready it wouldn’t have bloomed. This realization is torture to some, and they live in pain. For by willing events in their favor they do nothing but let themselves down and nothing can be gained this way. They keep umbrellas in their pockets, ready for the slightest drop of rain. This will never result in happiness. The way of things can not be swayed, it just is. When you let it be, it returns the favor. You will feel swaddled in the fabric of life, once you give up growing up everything is beautiful in what it is. Independence is an illusion; by simply knowing that you will be taken care of a huge weight is lifted, anything that happens is a sign, a truth, a testament to righteousness, there is good and it is everything. You can’t have anything but smiles when you know, absolutely know without a doubt, that you have no control over anything. If something goes the way you want it, good. If it doesn’t that’s good too. This is all beautiful when you realize that everything has its course, and if you act upon what’s right and not fight upstream, then anything that will result can only be perfectly right. This feeling is like a relaxing massage of the soul, inside is bliss and every day is a vacation.

Mama Dharma

It’s a nice day for words to explain
About all the radiation stabbing our brains
What’s in, what’s out, it’s only what the sun can boast
You can never point to the tip of your finger
Every moment things seep in, invisible things that don’t care about skin
It hurts you only when you know, but most don’t know who they are
Is it two things, mind and matter,
Is it two things, life and death,
Or just one
One that can’t think beyond your next breath.
Our dharma used to call us for supper
But we have since invented a drive though purpose
To fit neatly fold into our purse
I curse, how I curse the horns that attempt me in the night
There are few who are left with virgin necks
For most have been silently converted
Yes it is evident, with red lust on their lips
Life has gone beyond itself
Mama dharma still drinks her tea
Back at home
Steady sips, one at a time
Counting “one, one, one”
She knows.
There is nothing but that very one.

not much going on here...just alot of reading and alot of writing papers.

Few books worth mentioning
- Seeds of peace by: Sulak Sivaraksa
- This is It by: Alan Watts
- The Bhagavad Ghita (Hindu Text)

Quotes worth metnioning
"Man is unhappy because he doesn't know he's happy. Its only that. Thats all, thats all! If anyone finds out he'll become happy at once, that minute...It's all good. I discovered it all of a sudden." -Kirillov in Dostoyevsky's The Possessed-

"We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know that place for the first time." - T. S. Elliot.-

"There is nothing as strong as gentleness, and nothing as gentle as great strength." -unknown-

"Water can crash, or it can flow. Be like water, my friend." -Bruce Lee-

"Cows cry louder than cabbages" Henry D. Thoreau

Sitting Tiger, Pouncing Bloom

A bed of premature buds sit waiting.
Sprouting elegantly aside the paved ways.
Raised up and growing firm.
A passage which we all will learn.
Let it unfold like the jewel from a lotus,
Rooted in the mud yet ever above it.
A hand offering Excalibur to combat spontaneous woes,
A blooming lifesaver in hopeless waters,
Some bankrupt souls see gold to collect.
As others trail seeds of greed.
As every step I take is followed by some other,
I must complain,
Let the petals please.
Its impression is beyond organic.
Retain it so as not to obtain it.
Just one petal’s presence,
Is evidence of an underlying law.
Its purpose will touch,
If you leave it uncut.
A bloom,
In the state from which it flowered,
Is a tiger catching fish with its tail
Unexpected, yet pleasantly effective.

The Heart of it All

The moon is smiling,
And I am beating,
I’m a heart for something larger.
A part of something for the whole,
Oneness with the world.
Pumping with something beyond faith,
That my actions provide a greater cause.
Keeping in touch,
With a source, that’s it.
Yet as vast and flowing,
Diverse and concrete,
It keeps me,
As a heart for something larger.
Unified as universal,
One able muscle.
A hole in the night,
The moon is out.
I gave up trying,
At the very moment,
I saw myself smiling.

Fumes of Responsibility

So why is it so hard
To stop the spreading of carbon monoxide to our insides
For oxygen needs to come back again
Like punk rock from the eighties
While blocking fumes of junk Mercedes
Not to mention global holes adding to the kills
While prices rise in our monotonous bills
So how many thrills
Does it take to bake our last piece of cake?
We are all on death row,
It’s not fake, it’s our lives that are at stake.
So feeling a little out of breath without even a blow?
Just look at that hunk of metal
Taking up air on the side of the road, all show and no go
Do you feel cozy at night, all warm in your sack?
With all your contribution,
You’ve killed two families in Iraq.
All we think, before turning the key
Is if we forgot anything we need.
For it is a long journey, one of getting from here to there
Who ever said it’s not cool to care?

Wildly forming into a serial projection is what no one perceived. So cause it. Make it and bake it. Coming into a new way of sprouting like lilies intertwined. Crash like a lightning strip rushing into a long lost dream, awakening yet still dreaming. Tell me how it feels, oh just tell me, for I am just a messenger waiting for the call. Doing and do’s floating with winged shoes. Just wait a minute so you can see, revelation is a split second but contemplation is key. Without it, it was just another second in time, worthless one often talked about at alligator parties. Just live with it, as we do with our big toes, the answer to its being with soon be stumbled apon, or stubbed. Apples have no way to fall if they are picked, they can’t be ripe by the hand of man. Newton discovered the first law of meditation, sit long enough and thoughts will begin to feel like the hand of god on your head, a bit bruised but ever the more enjoyed. For peace is definitely a river, one with a pure mountain spring, and an eternally immanent source.

Knocking on a Hollow Head

I have a collective mold that has been festering
And so do you, but that’s not my doing
One who is faced with it, must deal with it
But it lingers like polluted air, a mischievous invisibility

Mirrors conquer the fears others have of you
Still, you fear yourself, like rain dropping on the vast ocean
And what to do with this parasite, the systematic injuries
Show it respect yet send it packing, Destination: Next Door.

A pencil and rusty farm tools, maybe.
But far better to run with weights
For when they are shed you will feel light as air
Then slowly, your ego will disappear

The only folks who can really laugh are those in your head
Lacking the track that was once bookmarked
I saved it for a while, for a materialistic savor
Oh how I chuckle, long johns, long hair

I’m not going anywhere, yet it seems…
Yes here is traveling faster than over there
Not lucky, and certainly not proper
I shed my clothes, live naked, and watch for onlookers

The truth, what of it, a fraction of reality
What books tell repeats what they sell, and that was once a tree
So who to believe but those with a contagious disorder
Yes my friend, an unmindful dis-order

The Criminal Ceiling

Now you arrested a little piece of my mind
Why don’t you just release it?
Am I a commodity to be bought and sold,
Commerce for freedom, does it show?
Uniformity, I’m talking about solidarity
I can’t go on with my heart in the past
My thoughts here and now with my feet waltzing into the future,
It can’t be done, even with an expanding consciousness.
For my fate lies in handcuffs with innocent guilt interrogating
What is the purpose of this mess, this obstruction of justice?
Keep dragging me along for information and actions I don’t possess
For the only thing that hinders is life progress
Now begging has lost courage because it too has been finger printed.
What is left, I question?
The drainage of soul into someone else’s wallet?
For talking gives rise to lies and thoughts don’t lie.
This system I am living in has been tailored for a smaller man,
I’m growing while my buttons are popping,
Seeing the light has led to me to attempt an escape from this height, but-
But what?
I haven’t even been read my rights.

Incapable of Structure

You may read these things but no one is able to write them
For the future holds no grudges, and offers no solace
To win we must go out and loose
Experience the cold to be warm
Individuals can relate, but we are not connected at the hip
As to why, no one knows
Only that some smile even when no hope is left
Bitter, concrete, immobile and inevitable
Wrinkles offer wisdom
There is so much to learn from the imperfect, that-
I have traded my chalice for:
The comfort of bear hands in a pungent stream,
The warmth of bark on an unreachable back
The peace in running rocks
And the reflection of god in my eyes
For all of these things can do no less
But to point me in one immovable direction

A new feeling

I want my eyes to listen while my ears search
My fingers to think while my brain grasps
My tongue to slice odor as my sent grinds iron
It is the tip of every mountain that pierces my veins
These blades of grass prod in torture
But I am safe because I know I have done no wrong
I am not the one who poisoned our mother
But there is always a catch, one more than twenty one
I am alone in feeling the soft touches of morbid vegetation
Rasping my little hairs that stand in attention
For death is near, as the poison still lingers in the air
This does not stop my drive for recantation
Repetition until the last is gone….look up
There is a hand in the darkness waiting to pull you up
And until I go I will frame this picture
So that every eye can feed upon it, hope my friend, hope.
This very picture tells me
I am employed for eternity
And if the light don’t disappear
I’ll be here
Reviving the faith obtained from the compost pile

I've forgotten the god of my fathers
expanded the church beyond stone and hands of man
I am not any less qualified to judge beauty
or less inspired through divine lightning.

Starboard Plank-walking

The courtship is about, with warm weather turning heads
The young hearts aren’t strapped in
While the roller coaster lashes with a force,
Past the thoughts of gravity
We need more than air to fuel our lives
And without it some prefer to die
What is this invisible force that divides a man’s will
Into two heads
Of course it is unmentionable
And embodied in the intangible
It is the crusade parallel to that of knowledge
But far more effective in changing the course of life
For, without these winds the sail has lost its drive,
While forgetting its purpose.

Plum out of luck in a bird's eye

As quickly as my brain can perceive, it is gone.
Extinguished the unavailable.
These steps don’t progress anywhere,
Where to fear, no where but here.
The cavities wrapped in skin are plugged with corks,
I’ve seen there are too many fish in the sea.
One by one, we aren’t content to be
Purchased the answers in a hard cover,
I never will understand the expenses of life.
Called for duty, called for vote,
But what is it called when my best interest can’t float
It’s almost like drowning ten feet above the ground
I pity the birds with their encompassing view.