No I in me.
Straightened out while the skeleton spun scripture in stone.
All I heard was the moon.
Can’t interpret or understand flow, unless you know
the misty, mystic condensation of clouds;
gravity must be joking, as the sky begins to change.
I spread intuit, breathing electrical words in a vertebrae circle;
concentrating data while I download IT into the system.
Mind erasing, I’m tasting thoughts and smelling what you hear;
like it, like it ravages.
They stole my metal exoskeleton while
I walked out of sunlight into your darker dimension.
Two inches from the granite, I had to grab and grit.
Manage till you stand in your metabolism,
Un-limits of my super-conscious melon,
mango squeezes cold silver into gold.
I’m chiseled on the side of the moon.
The star spoke,
and even galaxies empty and crash like car collisions.
Whistling heavy tunes because of piercing wounds,
I tilt and turn soul across the molded earth before IT is one big radioactive hole.
In the underground city,
rat swarms roll downhill like, hold it down and kill or be killed.
The drunken man laughs in the street with beautiful hysteria.
one word sentence.
pace the gain.
We can only pick a dream;
but beware, the american nightmare’s hoggin’ up the screen.
Merit is crushed, on the tempting truss of heritage and failed marriages.
I’ll hang my boots to rest when I’m impressed.
So, I double knotted em’ and forgot.
Better souls troll the test, as a silent witness.
This world is a prison.
Ok, lead me to activism.
I penned dragon with the last of them.
Zig zag and zig em’ again.
I watch green herb glow red while you turn yellow.
I peddle past ’em;
a foolish fellow..
This fucking flesh, prohibits and tests even the best.
A wanton spectacle of
testing truth; forging spirit’s reticule when honing in
on the cross-hair of what’s really there,
what’s really true.
Did somebody just say, “Fuck you!”?
I’m evaporated and braided into existence.
Sharing the same nowhere as everything and nothing.
As summers’ in the sky, I patch the ship into shape.
I sneak an escape through the red tape if I have to.
Fast walk the thin glass across the surface, and break free.
Meanwhile, back at mountain’s peak..
I grew up thinking faith was a reason to surrender,
but not a surrender of intelligence when escaping the burden of reason.
Quaking with a harp’s worth of mirth, amidst a harmony of illusions;
ashes cherry to grey when burning away delusions.
The wind flows fire and light.
Typical skill is evident when we hold on too tight.
Time has one rose to grow a’fore the close;
up to when the quotient is left smoking until there’s smithereens, on a surrender bender.
Incredulously stepping into vastness, surrendering to bliss.
The masses hail the artificial.
Treason can be committed against
our own goodwill and nature.
When a being forgets it’s true nature, it acts against life
and the nurturing of life.
I ease into Xanadu; the future is so bright,
it takes intuition to ‘see’ the light.
If you do not cling to appearances, appearances will not cling to you. If you are not obsessed with anything, nothing will hold you. If you do not mind anything, nothing will mind you. If you do not focus on any sensations, no sensations will focus on you.
When sense data does not enter, the senses are pure; form, sensation, conception, conditioning, and consciousness are all empty. Then, both ordinary and extraordinary perceptive capacities become complete and possible. When you reach this point, the senses perform each other’s functions and the whole body becomes an eye. Mundanities end, and the whole being is purely celestial. Essence and life are both complete, and one merges with the Tao in reality.
This is called acquiescence in beginninglessness
A shiver in cold water; nerves tingle.
Fish swim by and slimy scales tickle.
A small rock pierces and pinches until
water’s edge impacts a reaction.
Grass and dirt fly into the air and
water splashes everywhere.
Soon I leap to shore, to find wet clothes are
torn and worn to shreds from branches near the waters edge.
Flat rock, baked hot in sun, warms to scalding touch.
wet socks on sun baked rocks, steam into the air.
Still water’s light, gleams beneath the steam.
A smell of trees and fresh rain reminds that
I have to keep moving.