Sardonic affectation
Malaised Elation
Confused creator
Crazed creation
A piece of God’s imagination
Partially made
And in the making
A Song of War
Underlined References: MLK, Thoreau, Gandhi & 5 major religions
Prologue
As if books and pens
Would come to our defense,
When they split the atom,
We hid under our desks
Took a third
Of our paychecks
Spent it on weapons…
They swore only to use…
In our defense
But it wasn’t true
Budgets grew and grew
We The People
And lawmakers
Never refused
Sam ground chuck Charlie
Into workhorse mules
Would-be heroes were led
By narcissist fools
The only true heroes
Broke the rules
The only “right ideal”
Is the one we refuse
Act I
The only sworn enemy in all of the land
Is the dutiful faith of an ignorant man
When good men do the bidding of tyrannical minds
It’s good men who’ve committed the most ungodly crimes
The left blamed the right, and the right blamed the left
The north blamed the south, and the east blamed the west
Christians blamed Muslims who blamed Hindus and Jews
Everyone else blamed social media and 24-hour news
Every side stood for some elusive cause
Though no one knew exactly what it was
Each party devised its own makeshift enemy
Justice waged war on freedom vs. liberty
They all pointed fingers above from below
Guiltless blame compounded as it passed up the totem pole
The whole world became a reenactment of Nuremberg Trials
No one took responsibility, and everyone complied
They called peace a weakness and carnage a strength
It took a thousand times more courage to resist than to obey
This is the One Truth that gets lost in the trust:
Corruption can’t function without us
Friends became soldiers, rife with vengeance
Dying was the Catch-22 of winning
The colonel said, “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
No matter what happens, God’s just testing us”
Part and parcel, impartial, not impugn, coerced
Every last soldier rode home in a hearse
Dug into their trenches, as they laid in wait
They died for three inches of foreign terrain
The pageantry of death, a flag draped over a coffin
They sounded a bugle, shot their guns off at God
The pomp and propaganda rallied more for their cause
And that’s how the war carried on… and on…
Act II
This sphere has no sides from where God sits
Yet everyone’s assured, “God wants our side to win”
They say, “Everything in this world kills for a living”
Yes, but who in this world has the will to forgive us?
If death was your duty, death was your only friend
There were 8 billion ways to lose and only one way to win
The only “united nations” were the Ticos and Swiss
Who laid down their arms and unclenched their fists
The only “good guys” took aim to miss
The only “good guys” resolutely resist
The blind led the blind with an eye for an eye
They all used holy books to justify their crimes
From slavery to war to mass genocide
Everyone always said God was on their side
Of the dove and the lion of Mecca and Zion
In the words of Jibreel and the tears of Jeremiah
Violence is the lost cause of the mire of maya
The only real fight is with the silence inside us
Act III
The servile servants of the sycophant circus
Hid their egotist’s crimes behind red curtains
No accounting for actions, reactions fired back
Shotgun always goes off in the third act
Our rebellion of the heart refused to take part
In the crimes against nature before they could start
Non-violent protestors only allegiances:
Conscientious objection and civil disobedience
We are the voice who is always listening
Our commitment is to truth, not to consistency
We’re no-mans-land’s borders, and our only mission:
To remain humane in spite of inhuman resistance
We are the voice who is always listening
Our commitment is to truth, not to consistency
We are no one’s belief, and no one’s opinion,
Nobody’s ideals, and nobody’s minions
We are no one’s reaction, no nobody’s response
We’re no one’s faction at nobody’s cost
We’re no one’s nation, religion or race
We are responsible for the world we make
THE END
∞
THE END ∞
Badmash blooms
Badmash blooms
When his bane is his boon
Poignantly poised
For the plague
Which is his perk
For the blessing
Which is a curse
To earn his worth
Prodigally
To return to earth
Crawling
To learn to fly
By falling
For the Daimon’s Tao
With his horns
For the Daemon’s rose
With her thorns
For the Lord of Job
Rascal trickster
With Lucifer’s nose
Growing bigger
For the bane
Of His existence
Is aptly named
“The Light Bringer”
For Good and Evil
Are just for show
The Way
For him to know
A life beyond
A world of woe
Of friends and foes
Of hots and colds
Of duplicitous modes
Of binary codes
Of twofold folds
Of bipolar poles
Is to embrace them both
Red
Red cardinal in a collage
Of green, brown and gray
What prompted thee
To evolve in that way?
The sparrows and robins
Blend in with the land
You’re camouflaged
For the Martian sand
Oh, avian archetype
Augury of wonder
Lest ye pillage
Lest ye plunder
Blood, wine, war and love
Are the only things painted that color
‘M’ & ‘E’ In Macro Ethic
In the middle of all the bad and the good
Man unmasks the mire of meaning
Malevolence moves among all that he’s misunderstood
His mind mustn’t malign with its misconceiving
Commandments he mimicked and mimed through childhood
Must be immobilized to keep myths of morality from impeding
(After all, it’s his life which he’s leading)
To misinterpret a single word
Is to miss the mark completely
The mild-mannered man meandered Mother Earth
Feigning virtue as he moved so meekly
But the meek will inherit only the dirt
May they still meet their maker, if ever so bittersweetly
(After all, it’s his dream which he’s dreaming)
To moderate man’s moderation
To pursue modesty immodestly
Remove all rules and regulations
Remove all molds of man-made myth and prophecy, monotonously
Past minefields of morality, move the mind in contemplation
Make amends with the mime in the mirror who was always mimicking and mocking me
(After all, it was my life which seemed to be lost on me)
Macro Ethic is the mean, median and mode of all preconceived notions
Macro Ethic is One metric by which man counts all blessings
One unites 10,000 gods in energy, body, mind and emotion
One unites the paradox of all of God’s lessons
Macro Ethic is the union of opposites in stillness and in motion
Macro Ethic melds man’s morality with all his misconceptions
(After all, Macro Ethic is singular, beyond good and bad, hell and heaven)
An Inordinately Buddhist Digression
I guess faith is surrendering everything to nothing, expecting nothing.
I used to expect respect, dignity, love and success, but I'm a lot better off now that I expect nothing.
I guess compassion is seeing myself all broken up and mourning the broken parts of me in you.
Trying to fix you isn't compassion.
Seeing us both as broken pieces of the same nothingness, expecting nothing from you, accepting nothing in our brokenness.
With no expectations and nothing left to surrender or lose, I accept everything as it is and everyone as they are.
What more is there? Nothing.
Why I Quit & Why I Left
WHY I QUIT
I quit because quitting was harder than winning
Still as shit was harder than shit-eating grinning
Sitting was harder than sinning
Giving up was harder than giving or getting
Making up was harder than making it
Giving in was harder than taking shit
The path of most resistance is a bitch
Giving up on noise for silence is fucked
In the newness of nothing,
Everything is enough
Biting the bullet is harder
Than biting the dust
Nothing was harder than stuff
I gave it all away, and I gave up
17 years was enough
WHY I LEFT
With respect to Creator and Creation alike
Good riddance to this world of samsaric psych
Goodbye to the ancient wheel of time
So long to the body, farewell to the mind
I came into this world on a full moon night
I burnt off the remnants of many lifetimes
In my wake, I left breadcrumbs for the fallen to find
With the moon at peak fullness, I left this world behind
Two Poems To Put In Your Face
Two More Cuntingly Crafted Poems Crammed Assfuckingly Between Two Pages of A Notebook Between 7 a.m. and 7:20 a.m. on August 20th, 2023
NARCISSUS FOUND A LOVER, PT. 2
The pain and purported purposelessness of pain provoked me to cram another can of kratom, in jest, to test its ingested effect or affect, except that its an addict who accepts that its better to see the first sun with glee as he begins to peak his head over the trees, than for misery to sew what the miser reaps in sobriety at seven a.m. over me, for it’s him who sees his reflection in the pond every day, not me, yet it’s me who falls in love and it’s me who falls in, and I doubt the sun even knows how to swim, alas, again and again, the past falls short of my whim, and the present rises also again, as the blathering blew me along with the wind, an analysis of beauty falls short of blooming, precisely on time, dead on the vine, a truth only known in rhythm and rhyme, a riddle a riddler could never confine, to see grace in flight, and attempt to own her, a ring to a finger, a cage to a bird, this is the riddler forcing beauty into words, for no matter his wisdom, no match for his wit, no matter how he mangles the words, beauty won’t fit, for it can’t be confined, it can’t be contained, it can’t analyze grace, so the pain dissipates with the mist on the pond, and the sun sees himself in everything as soon as it’s gone, so my eye sees only what I already Am, and if I Am That I Am, I must also be that resurrection, and I’ve fallen in love with much more than my reflection, I Am the lesson learned, and I Am the lesson, I’m the sun and the pond and the past evanescing, I’m the rise and the fall and the wax and the wane, I’m the good and the bad and the pleasure and pain, so when I fall in love with beauty, I’ve fallen in love with I Am, and even the pain is I Am, I Am, That I Am is beauty, again and again, That I Am is beauty at seven a.m.
SECOND PAGE TYPED FOR YOUR FLUFFY LITTLE FACE HOLES
To feel as though this body actually belongs to me, however temporarily, to rid the dread and loathing of the old anhedonia, the phony holy sewing seeds of Sardonia, artificial kiss I’m holding up on stilts of sticks I picked up amongst this amiss bliss with clenched fists, fits of restlessness, shivers and shits, the every-other-day addict arises against the midst, the mean and mode of man-made malaised mist evaporating alone, a drop of the ocean, a flash in the pan, a thought ever in motion which seeks only to be still in a world of dogs eating dogs, kill or be killed, can’t understand, can’t fathom man, wheels of time, cogs, delirious dogs, none of whom are Sirius, and gods to whom I used to honor like this, with words and sounds provoked into being with the artificial kiss of this amiss bliss, a leaf (kratom) or a flower (opium) or a fermented fruit (alcohol), a fungi I found on cow shit (psilocybin), all of which I presumed were God’s gifts, though I’ve learned through the years that each kiss is a curse and a gift which can only be discerned by the tongue after it hit or missed the sense, and the only real value is in the awareness it gets, and the thought is useless if it never sits, stays, never rolls over, these are dog-eat-dog tricks, shake or break a leg, if it’s not still, it’s still amiss, and if it’s amiss, it’s not truly bliss, so the dog goes for another walk around the wheel of time with a sense of relief, however benign, however unholy, unworthy of the ache of life, and the dog honors God with the gift of riddling rhyme, out of synch, off kilter, still in time, disappointed in his inability to find the rhythm of the divine, begging for bread and wine beneath the dinner table, yearning for praise, guidance, or some piece of God’s mind.
Please send your strongly worded letters to this address:
Richard Milhous Nixon
c/o Accompanying Devil/Demon
3538 Gunston Rd
Alexandria, VA 22302
The Serpent
144,000 on the ark with Noah
Somewhere south of Pleiades
I was throttled by Speirema, the mighty boa
She snapped my spine in three
Ida was a coy and quiet cobra
The rattler, Sol, shook the seven seas
Seven Sleepers awoke and threw me over
Sirius, the guard dog, stormed the breach
I sank beneath the waves with Jonah
No one but Saraswati heard my screams
The subterranean river I’d never known of
Swung the Chimah hinge which bound the world to me
Was this Leviathan they’d told of?
When it rises up, the mighty… retreat
Am I caduceus to this mighty boa?
Was She Nehushtan or Chalkydri?
Was She seraph nahash of old Jehovah?
Was this Naassenes’ and Ophians’ Paraclete?
Just as Issa / Isa / Isha spoke of Moses
Would Naga lift up the Son of Man in me?
This has been
A poem by TAFKA LaSalle
Written between crises
Scouring the web for “clues”
October 4, 2023
At Redbug Cabin, U.S.A.
Now for some hand-picked Quotes i’ve gathered after 3 years of kundalini despair, on Why Pain & Suffering Aren’t Always All Bad:
“In our sleep, pain which cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart until, in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom through the awful grace of God.”
“The way of love is not a subtle argument; the door there is devastation; birds make great sky circles of their freedom, how do they learn that? They fall, and falling, they’re given wings.”
“This dark contemplation is in its beginnings painful likewise to the soul; for, as this Divine infused contemplation has many excellences that are extremely good, and the soul that receives them, not being purged, has many miseries that are likewise extremely bad, hence it follows that, as two contraries cannot coexist in one subject —the soul— it must of necessity have pain and suffering, since it is the subject wherein these two contraries war against each other, working the one against the other, by reason of the purgation of the imperfections of the soul which comes to pass through this contemplation.”
“...that power filled the room. It seemed to be in one’s eyes and breath. It comes into being, suddenly and most unexpectedly, with a force and intensity that is quite overpowering and at other times it’s there, quietly and serenely. But it’s there, whether one wants it or not. There is no possibility of getting used to it for it has never been nor will it ever be.”
“Then Jesus continued and said to them... “Blessed are you who are reviled and not esteemed on account of the love their lord has for them. Blessed are you who weep and are oppressed by those without hope, for you will be released from every bondage. Watch and pray that you not come to be in the flesh, but rather that you come forth from the bondage of the bitterness of this life.””
“And now, because you have known madness and despair, and because you will grow desperate again before you come to evening, we who have stormed the ramparts of the furious earth and been hurled back, we who have been maddened by the unknowable and bitter mystery of love, we who have hungered after fame and savored all of life, the tumult, pain, and frenzy, and now sit quietly by our windows watching all that henceforth never more shall touch us - we call upon you to take heart, for we can swear to you that these things pass.”
“A mystic swims in the same waters in which a psychotic drowns.”
“If you have to ask whether you’re experiencing kundalini or not, you’re not.”
friends & family
”don’t get it”:
“A man receives only what he is ready to receive, whether physically or intellectually or morally, as animals conceive at certain seasons their kind only. We hear and apprehend only what we already half know.”
“A prophet is not without honor except in his own country, among his own relatives, and in his own house.”
“It is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society.”
“I have heard many things like these; you are miserable comforters, all of you!”
“They are blind who hope to see it by the light of reason, that reason which is the cause of separation — The House of Reason is very far away!”
“The ‘Don’t worry, be happy’ people have committed suicide!”
More “growth through suffering”
quotes from the bible:
“Be continually alert, remembering that for 3 years I did not cease to admonish each one with tears.”
“[God] will not suffer you to be tempted beyond that which ye are able to bear, but with the temptation will also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it.”
“Lest I should be exalted above measure by the abundance of the revelations, a thorn in the flesh was given to me, a messenger of Satan to buffet me, lest I be exalted above measure. Concerning this thing I pleaded with the Lord three times that it might depart from me. And He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in needs, in persecutions, in distresses, for Christ’s sake. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”
“Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.”
“And though the Lord give you the bread of adversity and the water of affliction, yet your Teacher will not hide himself anymore, but your eyes shall see your Teacher. And your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, “This is the way, walk in it,” when you turn to the right or when you turn to the left.”
“Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.”
“In all this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed.”
“Finally friends, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is gracious, if there be any virtue and if there be any praise, meditate on these things.”
p.s. encore!
two taoist parables
on why fortune & misfortune
are indiscernible:
“May Be”
There is a Taoist story of an old farmer who had worked his crops for many years. One day his horse ran away. Upon hearing the news, his neighbors came to visit. "Such bad luck," they said sympathetically. "May be," the farmer replied.
The next morning the horse returned, bringing with it three other wild horses. "How wonderful," the neighbors exclaimed. "May be," replied the old man.
The following day, his son tried to ride one of the untamed horses, was thrown, and broke his leg. The neighbors again came to offer their sympathy on his misfortune. "May be," answered the farmer.
The day after, military officials came to the village to draft young men into the army. Seeing that the son's leg was broken, they passed him by. The neighbors congratulated the farmer on how well things had turned out. "May be," said the farmer.
“Is that So?”
A beautiful girl in the village was pregnant. Her angry parents demanded to know who was the father. At first resistant to confess, the anxious and embarrassed girl finally pointed to Hakuin, the Zen master whom everyone previously revered for living such a pure life. When the outraged parents confronted Hakuin with their daughter's accusation, he simply replied "Is that so?"
When the child was born, the parents brought it to the Hakuin, who now was viewed as a pariah by the whole village. They demanded that he take care of the child since it was his responsibility. "Is that so?" Hakuin said calmly as he accepted the child.
For many months he took very good care of the child until the daughter could no longer withstand the lie she had told. She confessed that the real father was a young man in the village whom she had tried to protect. The parents immediately went to Hakuin to see if he would return the baby. With profuse apologies they explained what had happened. "Is that so?" Hakuin said as he handed them the child.
The Scientists Turned Science Into Another Dumb Religion
INTRODUCTION TO THIS POEM IN PROSE: HERE
“Although I do not suppose that either of us knows anything really beautiful and good, I am better off than he is – for he knows nothing, and thinks he knows. I neither know nor think I know.”
The greatest religion of the new millennium:
Scientific Fundamentalism
In with the microscope, out with the candelabra
NOW RECRUITING: rationalists for our materialistic dogma
Spacetime was born with a bang, accidentally
14 billion years of future’s past present (fundamentally)
Having all evolved from one warm puddle
In here, The Hard Problem still has us all befuddled
Accidental, though we all appear to be
Carbon & water turned into genetic memory
Fish, amphibians, mammals, then very small hominids
We don’t acknowledge Dashavatara
(we give all credit to the Darwinists)
After consciousness formed our big, smart brains
We decided that must be where consciousness is made
In here, we deny where, how & why it’s felt
We deem unworthy the study of the experience its Self
You say the mechanics of life, love, art & beauty
Are projected onto the experiencer’s screen like a movie?
We think the experience knows what the experiencers don’t
The only way to know a man is to cut him open, head to toe
Dissect the body, the energy, the emotion & the mind
Dissect the water & the earth, dissect the air & fire
Immaterial things are a waste of our dissection of spacetime
It’s not our jobs to experience
but to present our dissections of this life
If you wish to join us in here, you will be required to take
One humongous, un-ironic leap of faith
Consensus reality must be touched, heard or seen
We’ve made strict laws of this capricious belief
We’ve made constant all the universe’s inconsistencies
We’ve made permanence of all the world’s transient things
This mustn’t be that, here mustn’t be there
Speed of light appears constant (must be true everywhere)
So what if electrons are here & there at the same time
Our world is as hard as our own stubborn minds
So what if we’re hurling through space
(like an electron cloud)
Stop presenting obstacles - we have it all figured out!
So your body remembers your grandfather’s disease
Remembers his traumas, his looks & every breath he breathed
So we know there’s more memory in a single strand of DNA
But we’re certain all memories are stored in the brain
Yesterday & tomorrow mustn’t be tricks of the mind
Time is surely linear (our memories wouldn’t lie)
We memorized more facts than most memories will hold
Our memories are how we convince society to think that we know
If anyone attempts to know what cannot be seen
“Un-scientific!” she & he will be deemed
Her grant money will be abruptly taken away
Un-allegorically, she will be burned at the stake
We already categorized all life by taxonomy
The only way to know life is to classify its biology
Drawing certainties from the rubble of the past
(archeologically)
We already wrote the history of humanity’s odyssey
(prodigally)
If new ideas & new insights are your colloquy’s calling
Go join the useless idiots in the philosophy department
Anyone who attempts experiments in metaphysics or ontology
Will promptly be given a right brain lobotomy
The left brain hemisphere is the only one with a purpose
We use logic & deduction
to discern the world’s inner workings
We dissect the earth just as we do human corpses
We supply government & business with brand new resources
We poke, prod, plunder & pillage every crevasse & crack
We present it to humanity as progress
(equipped with new existential facts)
The sun is a ball of gas & earth is an unconscious rock
Your sentience is an accidental physical phenomena
(or else your serotonin needs to be blocked)
“But all ideas come from the right brain hemisphere!”
Nope. All ideas come from deduction in here
“But even Einstein attributed his ideas to intuition!”
We refuse to acknowledge your woo-woo mysticism
“Why then, is there anything anywhere at all?”
Perhaps a rock in the multiverse had a great fall?
“Well, what motivates Being to keep on Being?”
Dissecting the touching & hearing & seeing
“But why does that cockroach have such a great will to live?”
Desire & will are immaterial & material is all there is!
“But there’s desire to BE in every grain of sand”
Take your platonic panpsychism back to Never Never Land
“So what is the consensus on human emotion?”
Well, we put a drop of water on a slide
& now we know the whole ocean
Perception imprints on folds of the physical brain
If you experience anything outside of this
we deem you insane
“But doesn’t neuroscience repeatedly disprove
Cognitive behavioral un-scientific-folly-ology?”
Perhaps, but the magnificent miracle of the human mind
Must fit into preconceived notions of psychology
We made pills to regulate your emotions
(in their physical, chemical form)
By comparing & contrasting you to societal norms
We created the paradigm of human health
Existential dread of materialistic nihilism can’t be seen
(so it mustn’t be felt)
“But that nihilistic paradigm is destroying Mother Earth!”
Just take your pills, shut your mouth & get back to work
“But that paradigm pushes us further & further from truth!”
You’re fired! Earth is an object & so are you
If new things are discovered or new ideas come around
We’ll make sure your new insights & ideas can’t be found
We have our timeline, our paradigm,
& we’ll tell you what’s real
Our consensus is the only reality
no matter what else you experience or feel
Our physics can talk, but our physicians won’t listen
None of our old paradigms will be faced with new resistance
We remain in one space, one time & one dimension
Our dogma won’t be entangled with spooky action at a distance
If you want creativity, join the artists, inventors & engineers
Only ONE empirical truth is allowed in here
In here, we use facts to deduce & deduce & deduce
We only believe physical data with physical proof
We don’t allow experiments on the nature of Being
Unless they involve touching, hearing & seeing
If you join us in here, you already know what’s in store
Leave your Spirit, your Soul & your Being at the door
We are the mainstream! No one else can compete
We monopolized truth & all else is belief
The human is a machine, just a fluke of fate
So we evolved larger lobes than the other, lesser apes
We know historically, truth comes from outside the tribe
Yet we base the old outsiders’ truths on our modern lies
We pretend we’re as certain as the gospel we preach
But we blaspheme science with every faithful leap
We’re academics! We make up the rules
Outsiders beware!
We’ll make the whole world believe you’re fools!
You can’t even get a job without a lifetime’s debt to us
& our institutions are the only ones the world trusts
You may think it irrational to treat human Beings this way
But we academics treat each other exactly the same
Disparaging polarities, tribalism, infighting & hate
We refuse to acknowledge that we’re all irrational animals
stuck within the illogical conundrum of time & space
We rationalists all claim to be led by the facts
“But tell a rationalist he’s wrong, & see how he reacts!
His emotions are what led him to the now & the here
With his illogical desires & his irrational fears”
“Science is a tool & one which cannot fail
But does anyone believe in a hammer or disbelieve a nail?”
We made science into doctrine & threw away the tool!
Our nihilistic materialism has indoctrinated every school
The greatest tool ever known to man
We homogenized into dogma..
to fit the world in a grain of sand
“Yes, science is the greatest of all God’s inventions
But the scientists turned it into another dumb religion”
Newton, by William Blake, trying to fit the world onto a 2D scroll
wHAT OUR SOCIETY REFERS TO AS THE “ENLIGHTENMENT" ERA, MYSTICS HAVE TERMED, “THE DARK AGE” OR KALI YUGA. smart people across the world will profess scientific certainties, and most of the people will become certain of those certainties. but the quest for truth begins with, I know nothing.
Just Relentless Passion
It’s just relentless passion
It’ll die down in time
Why? Who’s asking?
Who’s so just as to be tasked with unmasking it?
It is me, and I Am it
There are only two ways to be:
Entirely passionate or entirely dispassionate
Anything in between is sleep
Anything in between infinite silence
And an infinite scream
Is half wheat and half weeds
Half goat and half sheep
Half man and half beast
Half real and half make-believe
I am neither, and both are me
Relentless inaction, relentless action
I Am just relentless passion
Patience Is the Greatest Virtue
November 15, 2022, Redbug Cabin, AL
Of all the things I ever wanted
None of them are things
For you to finally see these words
Is the only thing to which I would ever cling
Chord patterns, rhythms, melodies
Did you hear the songs I used to sing?
Of all the songs you’ve heard so far
Are any of them really things?
Of all the things people fear
The strangest one is change
The only fear I ever had
Was that things would remain the same
When time slows down all the way
Hell is there in that eternal state
Hope cannot exist outside of time
Time cannot exist outside of change
I travelled the country twenty years
Same story there, same story here
More death, failure, and tragedy
More words, chords, and melodies
My work as of yet has gone unnoticed
I am still broke but still unbroken
I’m still an old man and a little boy
Money’s just a broken toy
You can’t see or hear
Without watching and listening
Change comes cursed
And change comes gifted
Time is as wasted as time is sober
When the street lights come on
The show is over
I think I might have missed my curfew
Patience is the greatest virtue
Innocence
In a sense
Innocence
With its intense ineptness
Gifts isness with indecision
The victim of its intention
Admits it’s complicit
In its disillusionment
Which runs amiss with its
Intrepid sentience
In a sense
Innocence
Isn’t victimless
In its illicit inaction
Of the present tense
Which can’t catch up with itself
I would swear I weren’t a victim
If it didn’t feel like hell
Stuck In An Unearthly Riddle
Life is harsh
Mind and body, so brittle
How on earth did I get stuck
In this unearthly riddle?
How in the world
Did something so big
Get trapped inside
Something so little?
Did I choose to forget?
To be trapped in this shithole?
I do love apples,
And all that forbid them
Perhaps that’s the curse
Being stuck in the middle
With a halo and horns,
A lyre and a fiddle
Lulling myself to sleep
Singing, “Hey Diddle Diddle”
Stuck here on earth
In this unearthly riddle
Triumph Over Sadness
Sadness is masochism
Sadness is sadism
Sadness itself
Isn’t inspiration
Triumphing over sadness
Isn’t manic or madness
The last bastion of empathic compassion
Is that which triumphs over sadness
Haven’t you felt the ship smash, the waves clash, crash, alas
You haven’t lived until you’ve fallen ass backwards off the mast
You haven’t lived until every moment’s lived like it’s the last
And then sadness is momentum to tackle the next gasp
Life is masochism
Life is sadism
Can’t exist without hurt and hurting
Ride the sadist waves with style
Add a laugh to your cry, add a tear to your smile
It’s all just a game you forgot you were playing
Life itself
Is inspiration
Don’t let the sadness pull you under too deep
The current has a way of playing for keeps
As long as there’s waves they’re reminding you to
Keep riding them
So they’re not riding you
Unidentifiable: I Am That
That spark at the dawn of time
I Am That
I Am the Big Bang
14 billion years ago, I Am here
14 billion years from now, I Am here
I Am now
I Am here
Always
I have no identity other than That
I Am That
This mind I occupy
It used to experience extreme mania
This mind
It used to experience extreme depression
But I am NOT a “manic depressive”
I am NOT “bipolar”
This mind had many psychological anomalies
But I am NOT “mentally ill”
I am NOT a “victim” of my genealogy
I am NOT a “victim”
This body I occupy
It was addicted to nearly every illicit substance
This body and this mind
Have been addicted
To nearly every drug known to man
But I am NOT an “addict”
This life has never breached the poverty line
Never earned $20k in a year
This living hasn’t earned enough
To “own” much of anything
But I am NOT “impoverished”
I am NOT a “poor person”
I lack nothing
This body I occupy
It has been beaten repeatedly
But I am NOT a “victim”
This body has known extreme violence
Random brutality leaves only one eye
But I am NOT “handicapped”
This body has had so many surgeries
But I am NOT a “patient”
This body sustains itself
Without the meat of tortured animals
But I am NOT a “vegetarian”
I am NOT a “vegan”
The skin I wear is pale, nearly translucent
But I am NOT “white”
I am NOT a “caucasian”
I love God
I love Jesus and the Holy Spirit
I love Abraham
I love Gautama
I love Muhammad
I love Shiva, Devi and Krishna
But I am NOT a “Christian”
I am NOT a “Jew”
I am NOT a “Buddhist”
I am NOT a “Muslim”
I am NOT a “Hindu”
This body has only had sex with women
But I am NOT “heterosexual”
I am NOT “straight”
This body was made in the U.S.A.
But I am NOT an “American”
I am NOT a “Democrat”
I am NOT a “Republican”
I am NOT an “Independent”
I am not identifiable by my opposition
I have no opposite,
for I have no opposition
I have a penis
But I am NOT a “man”
I am NOT “cisgender”
I am no “gender”
I’ve occupied this body and this mind
For a few decades now
But I am NOT a “human”
I love Mother Earth
But I am NOT of Her
I refuse to become identified with this or that
I am NOT an identity
I have no identity
I am NOT a faction
I am NOT a statistic
I am NOT an individual
I am not identified by any relationship
To this sick, sad society
I have no relationship with “normal”
I am comparable by no “norm”
I am of no faith, no ethnicity,
no gender and no sexuality
I am not part of the whole
I Am Whole
I Am responsible for this existence
I Am responsible for this moment,
every moment
which leads to this moment,
and every moment
which follows
I accept responsibility for this life
I accept responsibility for All I Am
All is One, and That is All I Am
I Am That
And There Are “the ones” Creating All the Separation
When limitless life begins to identify with thought
life itself begins to forget
When limitless life forgets itself
One’s Self creates oneself
When One separates oneself from the womb of creation
oneself becomes creator of separateness
When one creates separateness
one identifies with separateness
When one’s identity is separate from limitlessness
one identifies only with limitations
One whom clings only to a limited identity
creates a world of limitations
by dividing limitlessness
A world created by division
creates separateness
between creator and creation
A world created by division cannot sustain itself
A world created by division recreates itself repeatedly
In each incarnation, a new society is created
A society created by division born of separateness
creates purpose and purposelessness
A society which derives no purpose
from the limitations of its separate identities
in a world created by division
creates another separate world
from which to derive its purpose
A purposeless society of separate identities
creates a separate identity for its creator
A purposeless society which creates its own creator
creates an ethical structure
by which to govern its creation
An ethic born of separateness by division
into purposelessness
creates reward and punishment
judgement and condemnation
which reigns from the separate world
which its separateness created
One whom identifies with one’s separateness
identifies this separateness as “heaven”
and this creator of separateness as “God”
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
In one’s separateness
one is separate from God
In one’s separateness
God is separately whole
In one’s separateness
one is apart from God
In one’s separateness
one is not a part of God
In one’s separateness
God is all one lacks
In a starving society, God is food
In a hateful society, God is love
In an unruly society, God is law and order
In an unjust society, God is justice
In a violent society, God is everlasting peace
In a sick and sad society, God is happiness and health
In a society of logic and reason
God is illogical and irrational
In a society which rewards pain
God is a martyr
In a society which represses pleasure
God is eternally promiscuous
Heaven is one’s endless perversions
In a society which oppresses femininity
God is The Divine Feminine
In metaphysics, God is physical
In physics, God is metaphysical
In modesty, God is opulence
In grandeur, God is humility
In law, God is unruly
In unruliness, God is law
In one’s thoughtfulness, God is intuition
In one’s intuitiveness, God is thought
In one’s emptiness, God is experience
In one’s experience, God is emptiness
In one’s form, God is formless
In one’s formlessness, God is form
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
The ones whom cling to their separate identities
enforce their separateness
fortify their separateness
Yet everywhere one looks
God is there
There, in his disallowing
God allows him this disallowing
There, in his will to power
God empowers his will
There, in her disbelief
God believes in her disbelieving
There, in her disproof of God
God proves she is disproving God
There, in his disapproval of God
God approves his disapproval
There, in his denial of God
God doesn’t deny him his denying
There, in him who plunders the earth
in search of God
God is the one plundering
God is the one searching
There, with her telescope pointed across the universe
God is the one seeing
There, in him who looks for God
but cannot find him
God is the one looking
There, in the ones who swear there is no God
God is The One swearing
There, in him who denies his being
God is being
There, in the mathematical improbability of life
God is there
There, in the limitless distance between 0 and 1
God is there, undivided
There, in all the fractions of One
One can never truly become two
One can never truly become zero
There, One cannot be pluralized
There, the ones are only divided limitlessly by their own limitations
There, creating the limited identities of the ones
from The Limitless One
God is there
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
There, in the ones creating all the rules and regulations
There, in the ones creating all the judgement and condemnation
There, in the creators denying their own creation
There, in every tribe creating civilization
There, in every race, every religion, every wing of every nation
There, in every society, every state, every faction of every population
There, in every fraction of The One who clings to one’s limitations
There, in all the ones clung to their separate identifications
There is The One, Creator, Created, Creation
And there are “the ones” creating all the separation
I Just Need Something Good To Happen
I know it’s all fake
A delusion, this life
But I need something good
To fall from the sky
I know good and bad
For better or worse
Are relative to nothing
And I know nothing’s curse
This world of miseries
Piled up on my shoulders
Each day I prayed
For this life to be over
I need something now
Anything at all
I’ve fallen for good
I need something good to fall
I played society’s games
I fell for their tricks
I fell from their graces
Can’t you just give me this?
I’d carry the momentum
All the way to my grave
God, couldn’t you just
Give me one fucking break?!
I fell in love with love
Never mind unrequited
I dove in head first
Whole-hearted, half-minded
I’ve fallen in love with you
O Captain! My Captain!
I just need something
Good to happen
Pretend
April 29, 2022 Shelby Park, East Nashville, TN
Every world pretends it’s the only world
Every sun pretends it’s the only star
Every day pretends it’s a lifetime
Every dusk pretends there is no dawn
Every night pretends it’s death
Every morning pretends it’s risen again
Every life pretends it’s the only life
Every moment pretends it isn’t the same moment
Every future pretends it hasn’t happened
Every past pretends it went somewhere
Every somewhere pretends it’s not here
Every here pretends there’s something there which needs to be done
Every this pretends it’s not that
Every something pretends it’s not everything
But it is
Everywhere is here
Everything is now
I don’t want to pretend anymore
Vigilant Joy (& The Jester Sings)
Vigilant Joy
Vigilant Joy means…
Incessant celebration of the absurd
(& everything’s absurd)
For austerity is the only enemy
Reverence for beauty
(& everything’s beautiful)
Do the opposite of what society says
(society is more wrong than right)
For reverie guides the honest
Mundanity is the great excuse for revelry
Irreverence for “correctness”
(what’s called “correct” is more wrong than right)
Tasks, jobs, rules & facts are the great delusion
(of infinity temporarily entropy-ing)
Disobey all authority
(Be still & you’ll know the only true authority)
Rebellion is the spirit of humanity
The only responsibility is Truth
(to respond to every moment honestly)
& to share that honesty with anyone who’s listening
To sing the melody which resonates true unity
& to share that melody with harmony
To find a rhythm which syncs the heartbeat of humanity
& to beat it louder than the noise of the big, plastic lie
(& The Jester Sings)
Present presence presciently presents…
“The Past: A foretelling of the future”
(Unfortunately framed in fool’s gold)
Ladies and gentlemen,
A sardonic story from a state of grace
Revealed through the holes
Of an unholy face
A reading of free form feelings
Within and without time and space
This is the true story of what’s his name
At least Leela’s laughing
Does no one else here see the stage?
Sure, it’s divine, but it’s just a play
Jabber jabber, play.
(This Is The Spirit…)
Heyoka’s heckling the king
Court-appointed Jester sings,
“This is the spirit breaking free
Free of ambition, desire & greed
This is the spirit breaking free
Wisdom doesn’t preach, it sings:
‘This is the spirit breaking free’
& on & on it goes…”
In bad faith, sincerely yours,
What’s His Name