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.

Thus you can throw yourself flat on the ground, stretched out upon Mother Earth, with the certain conviction that you are one with her and she with you. You are as firmly established, as invulnerable as she, indeed a thousand times firmer and more invulnerable. As surely as she will engulf you tomorrow, so surely will she bring you forth anew to new striving and suffering. And not merely 'some day': now, today, every day she is bringing you forth, not once but thousands upon thousands of times, just as every day she engulfs you a thousand times over. For eternally and always there is only now, one and the same now; the present is the only thing that has no end.
-Erwin Schrodinger-

haven't kept up with the world lately, been secluded in my own world where I don't even understand the laws. Sorry, but email me for some support if you need it.

Still it is a thrill to hear the word from the streets. A undoubtedly ghetto fellow reminded me never to forget my dreams, don't let any one take them away. It seems to me that these men have everything to say when you give them a chance, and you cant help but know that no matter what they will say it you will go on pondering it for days. Whether it be ridiculous, to rude, to inspiring, or just plain incomprehensible, the words of a street walker seem to take us for ransom.

What an ugly wise crack of a town,
It's always so bitterly funny.
Well, now that you've seen me running,
I think I'll stick around.

The Forgotten Half of Humanity
There are so many questions in the world, but none as important as to the question of why, why are we here? I do not wish to address this question directly, only to fill in the parts that have felt emptied for so long. The feeling that we are all connected, in unexplainable ways. We've all have more than one experience that we can not explain. Some brush them off as coincidences, and others use them for as a landmark for faith. Some of these experiences can be labeled paranormal or psychic. It is these feelings and experiences that lead me to question whether there is more than phyical interactions at work during this human life. Such examples can be of telepathy, out of body experiences, clairvoyance (seeing the future or past), or just intuitions about people or places. There are claims by others that these exist, but in our western culture we just pass them by and pay no thought on the subject. These are passed by from thinking that they are mere coincidences or false impressions, but there are a growing number of people who are questioning our previous assumptions and proving that there is more to be looked at. The eastern religions and thought have been along this path for thousands of years, with the knowledge of ch'i, and a higher concisousness than this phyical body. It is easily believed and wide spread throughout the east, so why hasn't the majority of the west even given thought to these beliefs and examples. There is even a high number of people who would say they have had a psychic experience, so why do we go on with out investigating, we feel that such topics are a taboo in our western culture. These questions need to be addressed in order for us to evolve ourselves into a more human culture. What is it that we are missing as a culture or as a people, that we are so attached to the phyical and material world, in that we place so much on having a good job and the right car. Are these the things that are really important to our happiness and fufillment? Why are we satisfied with the spoon fed answers people give us, we don't go searching for different opinions. If I wanted to buy a car, I don't buy the one that comes to me first, because maybe that is the one that is more fallible, it wants you to believe its the best without looking at the others. I don't just buy that first one, I go out and search and see what's out there and base my decision off of that. Paranormal isn't heard or wide spread, it is not talked about on a daily basis even though it happens every day in our lives. It is just going out and learning about the things you question, and not taking one source or any one answer. Because in the west we have a way of limiting our information, the media and the social barriers can not allow new ideas or contrary ideas to be let in, because individuals will be questioning why we do the things we do in our country and why people have more power than others. So if its in our face and easily accessible, then it must be true, right?

The long night;
The Sounds of the water
Says what I think
-Zen haiku-

The Thief left it behind
the moon at the window
-Ryokan-

Over the river, the shining moon; in the pine trees, sighing wind;
All night long so tranquil - Why? and for Whom?

These are taken from "The way of Zen", by Alan W. Watts.

If all these people learned to talk we might have something to say, but while words have lost their meaning, there are those who still know that to communicate words are not necessary. To feel, is not to understand ourselves, to act is not to help ourselves, to evolve is not to gain insight for ourselves only. Wisdom is learned from unlearning. As a people we must see the benefit is furthering everyone for everyone, instead of personal gain. This of course is the “perfect” way of looking at things, but it is also the natural way. Nature is perfect, and the only thing that is real.



Concrete Clouds
The way the rain falls lets the concrete drown itself.
The trees can’t bear their designated square,
The dirt is blind, purpose cast aside.
With all these people, no one is alone,
Yet compassion is crime, and laws are Swiss cheese.