Archive for December, 2008

We’ve only forgotten

Dec 29 2008 Published by under Q&A

Dreams within delusions
Mirages within illusions
Deceptions within words
Overtones within frequencies
Voices overlapping voices
Layer, upon layer, upon layer.

It never ends.

Beyond subject,
Beyond object,
Beyond all concepts of separation.

Tapestry without thread
Song without note
Poem without word
Reflection without a mirror
Light without darkness
Silence without sound

Such is totality beyond comprehension.
Such is form without measure.
Tangled and bound in a mass of:

Birth-Death-Self-Other-Human-World-Body-Mind-Happiness-Suffering-Love-Fear-Idea-Word-Everything-Nothing-Existent-Nonexistent-Future-Past-Present-Physical-Mental-Spiritual-Emotional-Conceptual

Such a web of conflict,
Constructed with symbols upon the framework of mind,
Has neither a beginning nor an end.
Ever growing, ever expanding,
It knows itself only as fragments of a forgotten whole.
It only encompasses that which is imprisoned within the bounds of time and space.
Denouncing all that lies beyond its reach, it impoverishes itself.
Burning the bridges that infinitely connect all, it occludes itself.
The independence it so deeply desires
Is the shadow of a shadow wanting only to dissolve that from which it is cast.

It consumes without hesitation.
It wages war without conscience.
It transforms only to persist,
Reshapes only to survive,
Evolves only to consume.

It cannot create, for it has neither the capacity nor the need.
It cannot destroy, though it thirsts beyond satiation to do so.
Its only mode of operation is the variation of its own elementary incarnations.
Me. You. He. She. They. We. Us. Them.

It draws the imaginary lines,
It segregates without exception,
Labels without discrimination,
And discriminates without abandon.

It is the arbiter of truth and existence,
Yet it is the one and only creature to have ever despoiled the very laws it seeks uphold.
It is the guardian of knowledge,
Yet the very source of the ignorance it seeks to illuminate.

For there is only one coin.
All of its sides are inextricably of the same substance,
And therefore the same nature.

There is only one prism,
All light that shines through it is of the same source,
As well as every colour born of its refraction.

Why then to we give birth to endless chains?

Cause and effect:
Consequence arises out of reaction,
And reaction out of action,
Action out of thought,
Thought out of mind,
Mind out of consciousness,
Consciousness out of being,
Being out of Source.

The Source is. Completely.
It is the space that separates words,
The silence between sounds,
The pause between breaths,
The stillness after every beat of the heart,
The gaps between all the particles of this universe.

It is dependent upon everything,
And everything upon it.

Do we know it?
Of course we do.
We’ve only forgotten.

Or have we?

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Finding or Seeking?

Dec 28 2008 Published by under Q&A

One who seeks only for the sake of knowing is an mentalist
Forever bound by thought.
One who seeks only for the sake of doing is a materialist
Forever bound by action.
One who seeks only for the sake of self-awareness is a spiritualist
Forever bound by belief.
One who seeks only for the sake of others is a humanist
Forever bound by empathy.
One who seeks only for the sake of seeking is an idealist
Forever bound by dreams.
One who seeks not at all is a fatalist
Forever bound by inertia.

One who merely seeks cannot be named
That One is everything and is nothing, and yet is not.
For there is only the seeking that is I.

Yet the One who needs not seek is found.
Or is it the one who is found that needs not seek?

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Understanding

Dec 27 2008 Published by under Words

There is only one thing that the brain is absolutely incapable of understanding: itself.
For in order to gain that understanding, a greater organ of comprehension is required: that which allows the brain to arise.

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Knowing

Dec 26 2008 Published by under Words

Knowing is Now, Now is Knowing.
To Know is to be Now, to be Now is to Know and be Known.
To Know and be Known is to Be. Now.
Knowing is not no-ing. It is both yes-ing and but-ing.

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Inspiration, Language, and Writing

Dec 23 2008 Published by under Words

Inspiration courses blindly through the heart and mind of an individual.
Where it comes from is as unknowable as where this universe comes from,
Where we come from.
It has no beginning and no end.
It is near infallible and bordering on omnipotentcy.
We just turn a blind eye to it every time we give into fear,
Every time we deny ourselves, every time we deny eternity.

By ignoring that which is beyond the categorization of the senses,
That which underlies all forms of mental manifestation.
There is no understanding in the world, all is confusion,
Completely enmeshed in languages built upon superficial perception, shoddy interpretation, and blind emotion.
Created through the mass interaction of human mind, trying to bridge a gap that was thought to exist but never has and never will,
Language has done as much to isolate as it has to bring people together, all because of the lack of a simple realization.

Instead of trying to cloth the universe we could be marvelling and sharing the indescribable beauty of its naked form.
Which will always surpass anything that we may try to cover it with.

It is amazing how we think that in order to understand we need cover everything in more conceptualizations, more perceptions, and accumulated definitions.
These fail completely and utterly to replace the realm of complete and utterly pure experience,
Unclaimed and uninterrupted by mangled random pulsations of schizophrenic impulsive thought.

The most utilized modality of creation in this world is that of persistent fear and denial.
It largely dominates the lives of everyone.
Do we realize it?

The greatest discovery is how to survive without denying our own existence,
Without giving in to the fictitious world that we think we live in.
Giving the fullest capacity to everything that we touches or influences, including ourselves.
It is instead to cast oneself into the ocean that has no depth
To rise into the sky which has no height.
To recognize the two as one and thereby go beyond,

Where words must be left behind.

The fear of reaching beyond that which our society persists,
Is largely due in part to our own reservations and shortcomings in understanding, which persists the very fear itself.
We are not afraid of what others think of us, rather we are afraid of how their thoughts and actions will influence how we think of ourselves.
This self is the small self, it is the fictitious self, the main character in a story that is created entirely within the human mind.
It only has extrapolated similarities founded in conceptual webs of association to that which we ultimately are.
It is the attempt of a slice of  the mind to define the entire mind, the attempt of language and psyche to encapsulate that which is beyond its reach.

It’s quite a trip to see how this weave of individual and collective fits together.
Especially while writing in this manner.
Because sometimes understanding what is meant by “we” or “I” or “self” or “us” can be a quite difficult.
But beyond the confusion, beyond the tides of understanding and misapprehension,
Burns so intensely and purely: the oneness of every atom, every particle and wave of matter, every thought and emotion that is born of the sentience which experiences the totality.

It is Divine.
Not in a sense of being better or beyond that of what we think this world to be,
But because it extends from the very infrastructure of all infrastructures,
To the superstructures of all superstructures,
Alpha and yet omega,
The completeness that is so persistent and immeasurable that any thing that tries to contain it,
Cannot, could not, ever.
Not because the container is too small or the incorrect shape,
Not because the concept is too vague, too complex or too simple,
But because there is no container which isn’t it.
How can something contain itself?

Sadly this fact eludes some of the most brilliant minds of the world.
And by eludes, it is not meant that they are unaware of it.
But rather our actions, words, and consciousness do not reflect that fleeting awareness.
It’s a subconscious awareness.
We persist the ultimate illusion,
Out of attachment to a system and its many associations
Which fail to provide any solution or any comfort to this fact.

It is not that we do not know,
It is that we persist a false ignorance that we don’t know,
And by our own willful ignorance we turn knowing into the ignored.

This ignorance is perpetuated through many different modes of creation and communication, and through many mediums of exchange.

So why write?
Why play with the conceptual grounds that are one of,
If not the largest obstacle to that which cannot be communicated?

In essence, it is in order to disprove the very mode of communication and all acts involved in the process.
To disprove writing as a form of communication through which actual practical and valuable knowledge can be expressed.
For it cannot be fully expressed.
The only influence that all words have are that of inspiration.
They do not create.
They do not destroy.
They are completely empty in themselves, meaningless without interpretation, and incomparable to truth.
We are the ones who make them whole – relatively and variably whole – for they are as poles brought into being by the spinning of the mind.

In sum, write because there is no need to write.
Countermand and destroy all reasons for writing,
All frustration and editorial feelings that try to shape and define that which is expressed through fingertips.

So when asked: “Why write?”
I respond honestly: “So that I may never have to write again.”
A response which might inspire a puzzling look,
And rightly so, because if writing is undertaken so that the act of writing is no longer necessary.
The very motivation of writing is completely contradictory to the act itself.
It’s analogous to getting rid of ignorance by ignoring it.
We humans do it all the time.
It’s a modality of creation called insanity.
Its offspring can be both wondrous and horrendous,
Though we all like to think that what we shape fits into the former category.

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Through Streets of the North

Dec 22 2008 Published by under Words

A forthwith sight of holy repose,
Coming and going within fields wet by tomorrow’s rain.
In a sight beholden to eyes of old,
Four cloudless skies are trapped within tears.
In pain and desperation of unearthly bounds,
A heart of raging seas does twirl
Upon the paved roads of foreign lands.
A soul of heaven’s grace is trapped,
Burning in the coldness of winter ice.
Melting in the summer’s warm embrace.

Walking in dreams through the streets of the north,
Eyeing nothing but that which lies beyond all formless forms.
Sensation is distant, lifeless, and cold.

Unless it runs.
Bellowing lungs gulping gusts of wind,
Sweltering pulsation brimming through feet and legs.
Life is felt, yet not embraced.
Unusual is the time when mind is still,
But the cravings of the earthy container of flesh, blood, and bone are subdued.
Unimaginably silent.

Jostling within an air of silent discontent,
Eyes of strangers meet with the twisting of necks and slightest flickering of glazed eyes.
So long has it been to speak of joys and empty sorrows with loved ones.
An aching ménage,
A migraine of confusion and mistaken identity
Plagues all that is within their grasp.
Discordant groaning,
Swimming motions of the musculature within mind and body,
Groan and tremble under the clashing emotions and contradictory beliefs of opposing ideologies.

Materialism and spiritualism.
Individual and collective.
Order and chaos.
Action and inaction.
Tasteless fluid puddles in the caverns of mouths,
Begging to bring food to maws of never ending hunger.
Death transforming into life.
Then life to death.

A tortuous soul of vengeance’s breath
Silently waits within the aura of a lone man.

He is me. I am him.
The soul is mine as it is his.
I acknowledge it. He does not.
It consumes him, while I consume it.
How long does it take within eternity
To finally realize the importance of individual action
In counterbalanced harmony with the somnambulant masses?
A second, a millennium? Does such importance exist?
Does further questioning produce answers?

Beneath questions lies a totality of truth.
Defying logical reasoning and the probing examination
Of mechanical interpretation and criticism through individual, cultural, and social conditioning.
It is the shore upon which these waves of words break into foam and roar.

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Voices

Dec 21 2008 Published by under Words

The sheer insanity of  life is baffling.
The vacant mindlessness,
Dwelling upon the surface of the hearts and minds,
Of every individual including myself is nearly infinite in measure.

So says a voice in my head.

What is that voice?
Where did it come from and what is it doing there?
What function does it serve?
Does it help? Does it hinder?

No Yes. No No.

This reasoning does not apply to such a basic mental construct.
There is no “what” for it to be.
There is no place from which it originated,
Nor any means by which it could originate.
There isn’t anything for it to do,
And it certainly doesn’t serve any function.
It can neither help nor hinder.
It merely is.

However, what I decide to do with that voice,
What I decide to nourish it with,
And the acts that are drawn from myself into the world by its influence,
These make every difference and every similarity in the totality of self and environment.

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After all…

Dec 20 2008 Published by under Words

If you were to tell me that I was crazy, I’d look at you as if you were.
If you told me you loved me, I’d look at you as if I did.
If you were to tell me that you despised me, I’d look at you as if you despised yourself.

I am you after all.

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Seconds Scattered Among Years

Dec 19 2008 Published by under Words

Time and again we find ourselves,
Lost for seconds scattered among years,
In the rifts between thoughts.

And that which is us, silently watches from the depths.
It does not wait, for it has no sense of time.

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A Self greater than I

Dec 18 2008 Published by under Words

I can feel it set upon me as sudden as an earthquake from the fiery depths of my soul.
Like a rapture of the divine so deep and consuming,
That sorrow swims to the surface of my conscious mind every time it awakens within me.
I know not why.
I feel like I might just be swallowed

By a Self greater than I.

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