Wednesday, August 21, 2013

The Yang Ying-Yang

Hijacking the world, that was for megalos, those maniacs. On the other hand letting it go was taking one on the chin sometimes. But in doing so the incessant succession of moments became ever so much brighter and in focus here for the bringer of the light. He could see everyone's lightness likeness like effervescent shimmers on shivering full-moonlit waves.

What's really happening here on Earth, he asked those moon-sprung waves. He'd heard that Synchron had had epppic seizures too. But he didn't know for sure having not met anybody from there. Seizuring the Earthly moment he called out to all sentience within earshot: Oh yeah, that's a rockin' sea shore, señior!  The 500 pint glass jam jars he had come across now jangled in the back of his truck as he rooster-tailed sand and surf into his sinal passages. RAWWRRR, he hollered hollowly, like a failed actor trying to convincingly run the script for the millionth time, drunk. Falling into a testosterone-driven rage he nonchalantly spiraled across the Gulf of Thyme, dervishly wigging, and filling his jars with all the delights he knew he could not take home with him.

Now blasting across the terrain like a scraped elbow, steering with a disinterested index finger over shifting sands, he pondered: was that it? Was that all there was to that one dimensional underworld, and the escape from it? Then, POP, corn, fields, magnetic, attractor, strange, quantum, cute, qualia, bears, wizards, triangles, singularity. Yeah, he knew all that. But the question burning in his mind was: am I a spark in the darkness, or a shadow in the light? Alive! He felt a breath deep as fresh life and inspiration. What does not breathe does not live, spoke the small voice behind his question. His mind did not breathe nor did the question but, yes, he clearly was alive. Belly full of giddy laughter, he aspirated gales of freedom onto his pleading lungs. The question's vice no longer gripped him. He had escaped, once again, through his mortal wound. It won't be long now, said the voice, rest, you are love. Sleep fell.

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

Isness Is Not I-ness

△                         △
hold a common stone
△   ancient art-of-fact   △
drink of plain water
△   billion-year elixir   △
breathe the unseen air
△ atomic forg-ed universe △
pump the humble heart
△ cosmic intel-alligiance △
greet a mundane thought
△  attention outside time △
being now so never then
△  isness is not I-ness   △
isness is
△            is           △
  _          .