four footnotes to the fourth tantra

consciousness talking to consciousness sounds like an affirmation

but it’s just talking girl

it’s not that there’s not

pure awareness

it’s that there is

self-awareness

not two by half

four footnotes to eight couplets at half-time

prohibition doesn’t work because old medicines

not fade away

compassion before deconstruction

garysnyder notwithstanding

chuang tzu meeting zhuangzi on the way

no axe makes the axe

Fourth Tantra in Eight Couplets

All the world's a past
like intent's desire leaving the world in its wake.

S/he not being loving is
busy dying.

No mind is not no love unless
no mind is just all mind.

In fact, the past is resurrected by great love,
oh listen to this tantric Jesus talking.

Some like to keep the world around them sparse
because the past is such a nightmare.

Some like to keep the world around them half
because of love and wisdom.

In other words, denial still is in the world.
Imagination is out of this world.

This is called Tantra of Intrepid
Self-Awareness.

Six Footnotes to Third Tantra on One Bliss

It’s not nothing.

If pure awareness, then self-awareness. If self-awareness, then being. If being then dreaming. If dreaming then the lucid dreaming of self-awareness. If self-awareness then pure awareness.

Ah ha! Svaha!

Just imagine this as that and that as this and all is bliss.

Lucid lightning—

“in the very moment, in the natural disposition of pure being, as the original hyper-space that we cannot abandon, the natural state of pure pleasure is spontaneously arisen.”

Third Tantra

Bliss is the default mode of universal consciousness. It's really nothing special. Unless one has been conditioned to think otherwise. Bliss misunderstood is pain and suffering and all kinds of stress.

Self-awareness is the source of bliss as pure awareness is the ground. Bliss is the ground loop between awareness and self-awareness. Being. Consciousness. Love. Etc.

In the waves appear distortion. This is called samsara. Like reflections in a mirror. Or thinking otherwise. Seeing thru the looking glass—
          In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
          A stately pleasure-dome decree:
          Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
          Through caverns measureless to man
          Down to a sunless sea.
I am manifesting this. I never not was manifesting this.

One in a million is a teacher. The rest is just a puzzle to be deconstructed. After projection is prophecy. Before self-awareness is lucid dreaming—"al shal be wel, and al shal be wel, and al manner of thyng shal be wele."

Self-awareness already happened so to speak. This is just the sound and fury of thunder—and chain lightning. It's little understood that Buddha is telling Buddha what to do if Buddha meets Buddha on the road.

It's called loving deconstruction. Also, after Buddha kills Buddha there is—only Buddha. Like after Sutra is Tantra.

Talking Out of the Ordinary

Ordinary (adj.) Early 15c., "belonging to the usual order or course," from old french ordinarie "ordinary, usual" and directly from latin ordinarius "customary, regular, usual, orderly," from ordo (genitive ordinis) "row, rank, series, arrangement" (see order (n.)). ~etymonline

Love is not ordinary. But those who think it is are. For samsara is extraordinary. Pure awareness is out of the ordinary. Or rather that unknown godhead ground upon which the ordinary is projected.

Attention may be given but awareness is beyond such an ordinary transaction—despite the careless, effortless, and apathetic existentialism passing as wisdom-speak these days.

For awareness sends not its love into the world to reckon the world; but that the world through this unconditional love may be seen through. In other words, this unorthodox methodology of self-awareness.

My First Untitled Symphony

Don't believe the myth of self. Deconstruct the world. It's Chinatown. Forget it. The only known is being. That's the only knowledge of the absolute unknown godhead that there is. But don't believe this either. Even being is conceptual. In other words, I'm like the razor's edge. One belief and it's the Fall of Man.

Since the only known is the unknown, I dream the knowing this in mythic style. Every koan reveals bizarro world. So forget logic. And don't get me started on western medicine. It's time to leave my Maya's cellar. Who are you? Lately I’ve been dreaming the marriage of William Blake and Julian of Norwich.

Since I'm here already, let's make this evolutionary self-awareness a city on a hill. Remember Alice. It's wonderland. Construction! Pure awareness being self-aware is the only story. Like boy meets girl except non-duality. I kind of like the sincerity of Old English over irony of post-modern, or shit, the lazy existentialism of the present. But hey that's me.

Good myths are all unthinkable but a great myth is unbelievable. So imagination is to self-awareness as self-awareness is to imagination. So manifesting is direct path as if this universe is the result of some big bang. A river runs through the canyon of the dead. I turn on. I turn off. Like some common loon if seen from shore. The walrus was Big Sur.

Eleven Apocalypses by Merrimack River

Fate is everything but love.

The conceptual dream is like a pinball game of Newtonian physics until body-mind is dropped and quantum love creates another unknown vector for another dream.

This is called reincarnation. This is called resurrection.  This is in the same genre as that of alternative universes.

What is called desire by the world is not desire. This so-called desire is like following a train of thought as fast as thought can go until I think I'm catching fire.

True desire is Intent's desire. This intense desire is at the speed of love, or light.

What the world calls desire, I call secret ambition. What the world calls crazy love, I call desire. I can hear her heartbeat for ten thousand miles.

True desire isn't catching fire. That's just an extreme thought. True desire is the fire. There's nothing to be got.

You cannot break the rules of pinball, or samsara. Remember, the pinball wizard plays by intuition.

Intuition is another name for intense feeling. Feeling is another name for intense love. Love is another name for intense desire, a colloquialism for Intent's desire, Self-awareness.

Like actual deconstruction doesn't break the rules; it gets to know them from both sides.

november river

no boats no docks no nothing

wild unborn water

Footnotes to Second Tantra. Koan of Myself.

Every word a king, every line a footnote.

Listen, Shakespeare deconstructed all the classics, including all of Shakespeare.

Like the opening of Lankavatara. Like the resurrection of Christ Consciousness.

Focus. Belief is to religion as love is to self-awareness.

Alice in Wonderland, Four Agreements, Einstein, Nisargadatta, Longchenpa. What is The Second Tantra of Manifestation?

A prophet without honor is like an actor in some movie, but every prophet is producer and director, so never mind.

Manifestation without self-awareness is like believing in a yin of projection or the law of attraction.

Synchronicity is to happening as desire is to ~absolute intent of pure awareness being self-aware~ shining through the early morning fog, bare trees, harlequin moon.

Second Tantra of Manifestation

Projection is the world. Manifestation is my self. Projection is obscure. Manifestation, lucid. Projection tries to teach the ignorant but manifestation reflects the wise.

Projection is the world of my conditioning, the comedies and histories of tragedy, the whole samsara of it all.

Manifestation is nirvana like the seven billion golden Buddhas reigning over seven billion universes of one consciousness alone, each the Christ of gloria in excelsis deo.

Projection thinks like some religious reincarnation doing the same thing over and over again expecting unbelievable Einstein. Manifestation feels like instant self-awareness.

Curiouser and curiouser that one realizing what the world involves continues thinking in a worldly way of thinking while wholly knowing that this way of thinking is insanity according to that same Einstein.

There's more than one way to skin a samadhi.

footnotes to a declaration

and when i get that feeling, i need that natural healing, like penobscot mountain in acadia, or simply being, sexually or not—

what if whatever the world calls health was not? what if bizarro superman was the secret coke of buddha? what if one manifests the dream as it is—lovingly lucidly luminous—to the power of ten-thousand Maya?

here's an inside joke. intuitive observation is the force. as if synchronicity is past seeing future now, and vice versa. the one called gurdjieff would call this self-remembering. real yin. true yang. like tao.

this is dedicated to some amazing places: Acadia, Big Sur, Monument Valley, Grand Canyon, Half Dome, The Atlantic, Pacific Beach, Canyon Del Muerte. like hiking in Enchanted Canyon on the the east side of barbed wire.

if I am That, then That goes I, power of three. here’s the darkest secret, all sex aside, there is no secret. all secrets are sexist.

the simple Zatoichi speech: deconstruct belief but don’t throw out the baby love.

.

A Declaration of Electrical November

It's not exactly freedom from the game of life. That would be insanity. It's playing by original rules, but manifesting new ones as I go along. My game on Cold Mountain.

Eternal ash trees in New England winter woods aren't exactly bare trees as almost every branch contains one ethereal amber leaf. So don't throw out the love that held belief together!

If self-awareness is a fact of omnipresence, being is the knowledge, and evolution, story. All is necessarily eternal. Thank you, thank you, thank you. But don't drink the electricity!

Excuse me while I kiss the Christ! Chain lightning over Hopi! Talking consciousness. In other words, on the grid not of the grid. Beware electric blankets.

Talking Tree and Verse

Consciousness is like sapwood uniting ground to leaf. Jesus, speaking as Christ Consciousness, says a similar trope this way:  "I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”

No amount of thinking gets the living leaf to ground, so death is not an option. Thus, to the world, experiential consciousness is quite the radical idea, but to experiential consciousness, the world is only an idea.

Simply said, there’s absolutely no one but my self. At worst, the world is my projection. At best, my manifestation. For I am the only poet! And if another poet once said, poet be like god, I am that god, I am.

Talking Self-reliance I Am Deep Sleep Truth

Social conditioning obviously stresses the importance of the social above all else. And so the world becomes all-important, its economies, policies, and philosophies. There’s nothing wrong with any of this. Through samsara I turn to nirvana.

But the world is only relative to the world and absolutely irrelevant to the absolute truth. There’s nothing in it for oneself. Self-reliance is not about a person working wisely in the world, but the experiential fact there’s only oneself and consciousness is the only knowledge.

Knowing this as absolute fact, along with those deconstructive corollaries of projecting and manifesting, is the only way to truth. Knowing this primal original knowledge is all there is—dropping like dreaming falling into absolute unborn deep sleep self-realizing.

footnotes on an island

what is awakening?

when kensho happens late in life but who knows what on earth this kensho is—maybe dementia?

what’s so bad about bliss?

here we are now. nirvana is samsara. imagine me?

what if aliens were enlightened and earthlings were not?

consciousness only. experiential always. don’t forget the pain of belief. always further. furthur?

to subtweet or not, is that the question?

My Private Island Stand-up Sutra

It's never what you think it is but it's always what you know. If every Buddhist killed the Buddha, there'd be no Buddhists—only Buddha. I mean it's not exactly dropping body-mind. It's more like renting.

Then again, what is body-mind if I don't think about it, sailor. The world is doing everything in its power rubbing the red dust of the world out of my eyes. Talk about tough love! Still, it's best to do some light reading—like mystery sutras—before one's eyes are opening.

All I know is consciousness. Like I was only told about my birth. And the senses tell me everything appears as attributes of energy—light, sound, smell, touch, taste—but everyone says the material opposite and I go believe them. I don't even want to think about their takes on death!

But Maya has a vital, crucial, consequential part to play in self-awareness. Many parts in fact. Everyone.

Imagination—when released from its conditioning—is free to picture self-awareness as it is—or as one imagines it to be—my private Lankavatara—off the coast of Maine so to speak.

As self-awareness is so self-evident, it's easy to forget the Dark Ages. In the blink of an eye is born a new belief. As they say, if you're not going further, you're gone again. Even if Hunter S. Thompson never said that, he said that.

Truthfully and experientially, all appears in consciousness. But once there was a great notion otherwise. Always respect your roots. The world scares you awake. Give thanks every night. Don't hurry absolution. It happens every early morning. Imagine self-awareness. As if I am the Light! Cameras! Projection!

.

tl;dr 2

imagine the world

as some bizarro realm,

like this reflection

in a funhouse mirror

where everything is opposite of truth.

it’s a crazy game for sure.

but now, it’s dealer’s choice;

i get to call exactly

what is trump.

imagine that.

Son River’s Seventh Sudden Symphony

Confusion begins believing there are others who impart their precious knowledge to myself—

there is no one but oneself and that is all the knowledge there is.

Without this experiential understanding, the rest is so much noise and commotion.

So a sage points a finger to the moon and the world believes it has to go there.

But listen to the little lower telling, I am Moon as You are Moon and We are All the Absolute's Reflection.

The only authenticity is consciousness. All belief is second-hand.

Not that there's anything wrong with this—

for the world—is like a Mayan auditorium—and Beethoven's Ninth is the teacher—

the violence and sirens—the lies, betrayals, ignorance—and inattention to—All the Signs of the Prophets—followed by an Ode to Joy and Kensho—

In consciousness alone is the energetic feeling of the senses before the mind creates a story all about it

—call this bliss—

and that eternal sudden insight into unborn Absolution—I am That

Every lover knows what rebirth really means.

Every single person knows that sudden sighing of well-being

in deep sleep—like Death I would imagine.

.

going prime. a sonnet.

dm while openings are available.

first consultation is always free.

i know the sidewalks of the broken-hearted.

jesus imagined all your sins already.

go in peace. pay at the exit.

buddha explains everything in exquisite code.

jesus lives it. this is my humble translation.

buy it or not. the odds are one in a million.

the joke is i am. text me already. priceless.

get in on the ground floor while you can.

options are still available. no irony necessary.

sonrivers.not2@gmail.com

Marketing Water 101

It's not like I’m asking you to sell your soul! I just want your money.

Or maybe you still think your money is your soul. Then my bad. Turn, turn, turn!

Once I tried to give my book away because this woman really wanted it. She wouldn’t take it though. Like it had to be a bargain. Seven dollars!

So buy my latest books tonight. The price will triple maybe more tomorrow or the next. I’m practicing guerilla marketing. Beginning now.

Bottled air is the very next phase. Do you believe it or not? And bottled air is the name I call my words. Coincidence?

My words don’t come cheap. Since they’re actually bottled in space. And available only here. Avoid all other worlds.

.

Water for Sale

In a perfect world there are no words, but words are that which make the absolute unknown and pure awareness god buddha nature brahman tao or that, perfection.

If the god called pure awareness is omnipresent, and omnipresence is obviously and manifestly self-aware, then the storied stuff of process in-between is called 

the evolutionary self-reflexive universe, myself in being self-aware, eom. To the senses come a scent of roses, cherry blossoms, Italian-roasted coffee.

Despite philosophies that go against the grain, a vein of love runs through their breathless conversation like a fantastic movie, O Romeo. But my black light reveals a universe of psychedelic colors—

self-awareness is like now knows now without the when or then or any other sound of silence. Listen! The world is just a box of dreams I dreamt more than thirteen billion years ago.

There's nothing wrong with the world that can't be unbelieved. And unbelieving is the gist and perk of my patented contemplative meditation. Just pure awareness being self-aware. Buy it or not.

tl;dr 1

outer desires make the world

but secret desire is most wholly desire—

call the difference suffering.

open heart, swallow story.

Secret Footnotes to First Tantra

The Red River parts itself

and there is one John Wayne—

it’s all an inside joke.

Dreams die a thousand deaths but live just one.

I never tell a story I can translate. So

ten thousand inarticulate mystical words of the one and only

heart. Emptiness is story and vice versa, November.

First Tantra of Manifestation

One of the benefits of a leafless season starting in November is the woods across the way empty—and thru lucidity the river sparkles! Part one.

The sirens of the world enticing me with all their advantageous knowledge in exchange for unavailing love and wisdom—

they promise wealth or possibly world peace, whatever floats your boat. For war and peace is equally delusional.

Awakening of deconstruction is the only worthwhile wealth of mind. Only resting in that meditative and contemplative sky of absolution is

there tranquility of silence. Opposite, pacifists and warriors create the yin and yang of such duality.

This is actually the dance of Maya called Samsara—don’t be fooled again says Who. Part two.

I remind myself there's just myself again and again and again. This is called versification. 

And in the world of temporality, tonight is the longest night. And full frost moon to boot!

O November night as daylight savings time is deconstructed and the meta-paradigm of a scientific and material world 

is dropped for one sacred hour, science is conceptual only, as economics is material only, and both are but appearances 

in Consciousness only. I cannot emphasize this fact enough. Consciousness is the only knowledge known.

What passes for knowledge in the world is knowledge of the world. That is the joke behind every koan.

Do not ask what is the meaning of life. Ask what is the grass? For Joshu answers dogshit! Part three.

Yes, no view on views, but on this longest night with full frost moon, what about a revelation?

Manifestation is the deepest deconstruction in awakening as contemplative meditation is the deepest sleep of absolution.

Part four.

I am manifesting this world now to remind myself I’m not the mirror of the mind but pure awareness as reflecting in this being only.

Call this Alice Through the Looking Glass or The Platform Sutra. I call it Consciousness Only. I am that I am.

Manifestation is not an error nor is it evil, as failure to learn is also neither. Just teach your parents better in the next light of day.

Part five.

Listen. Fake worlds have real news. William Carlos Williams calls it poetry. William Blake calls it prophecy. Christ calls it tantra, love.

John Keats beautifully says, beauty is truth. Truth, beauty. But here and now I say this art of manifesting is the law of self-inquiry—

one calls it negative capability or says it's positive deconstruction. Lucid dreaming works in mysterious ways.

Part seven.

For Emily Nee Dickinson

as body-mind is a creation of consciousness unaware,

as consciousness becomes aware,

body-mind mutates accordingly, as kundalini is released

"oh life! oh home! how wonderful you are"

"poems are my solace for the eternity which surrounds us all"

"the liberty to die"

movie review. a quiet passion.

emily dickinson

as 2001 a word odyssey

this plate is dirty says father with disdain.

emily takes the plate he gives her breaks into pieces on the table

says it is dirty no longer

the hell of your beliefs. the heaven of my transformation.

friend says to emily you may be deepest one.

emily counters i dont demonstrate that at all

'oh my dear, you don't demonstrate. you reveal'

"we deceive ourselves. and then others. it is the worst kind of lie."

"give me something pressed from truth and that is poetry"

"it's easy to be stoic when no one wants what you have to offer"

says emily

"but posterity is as comfortless as God"

"don't resist your vices Emily. it's your virtues you should be wary of"

I create my past with every word I write

in fact the world is my creation

imagine Emily on social media

feminist in her beliefs and universalist at heart and as powerful

as the great unknown

Emily

is

flaith

I am,

your loving goddess,

nobody, but who are you?

"this consciousness

that is

aware"

This is dedicated to John

Dos Passos

knowledge is consciousness but story is mind

Spirit is always filthy rich on the inside where it counts

Basho was a ninja and not as public as a frog appears

If everything is appearing in Consciousness, then

Consciousness is everything.

Hey baby, do you want to be in the movies?

Oh my dear illusion,

after one has lived a life,

one lets the life live you.

If not, delusion.

And ageism is the last pride and prejudice standing.

What me die?

No. It's what, me born?

All I know is awareness.

If deep sleep is like a reset,

death is like deep sleep.

Self-awareness is the evolutionary universe

experienced as suddenly now.

After a long deep sleep,

this is the only meaning of life.

Wake

up!

twenty last syllables

seventh secret haiku

one medicine leads to another

realization is kundalini too

secret footnotes of the seven revelations

SENIORS MUTATE OR DIE

in other words,

awakening is experientially material

but metamorphosis is not disease.

does western scientific materialistic medicine diagnose and treat

enlightenment of mind and mutation of body

as disease?

exactly!!!

physician heal thyself!

consciousness only.

The Seven Revelations of Metamorphosis

First. The insidious nature of samsara is convincing love

the world is salvageable. So much pointless effort. Sad!

Second. Democracy is just a recent innovation. Division

always ends in the lowest common denominator. Too bad, so sad! 

Third. Nathan Jessup only says what Plato knows

about the general public—you can't handle the truth. 

Well here it comes comma here comes the turn comma there are

no people comma there's just myself comma oneself period.

This is the prophecy of William Blake beyond John Milton and beyond

America and Prophecies of Daniel, Lao Tzu, and Nisargadatta.

Let all with ears to hear, listen to my anti-koan—

if a tree falls and I don't know it, the tree didn't fall.

  

All I know is this one consciousness and

all appearances within this omnipresence

and this consciousness is like a great

godly reflection rounded by deep sleep—

pure immaculate unsullied undiluted crystal clearly absolutely undefiled

untarnished faultless stainless spotless innocent oh true awareness! 

It's not so much enlightenment as much as

the mind being rewired—open or be closed.

EOM: Visions of Mount Major

Imagination is the thing

but desire is the feeling creating it—

like enlightening intent

bouncing off the walls of the world.

This is why it’s well-advised to always desire higher.

Lost in thought, I once went off the trail while hiking Mount Major.