straw frogs

first there were peepers

now there are tree frogs

around the time

of crickets come

fireflies!

every movement takes

about fourteen billion years

if you really

wish to believe

evolution

a religion

may be

detected

by its glorious

guilt

wax

wane

yin

yang

full moon tao

guilt or

being mindful

there's your yin

and yang

of all religions

i've never not been living

i've never been dead

i'm not guilty saying

i don't know

the difference

you're probably

at the corner of love

and I

you’re probably

within spec

my latest death

poem is

that Evolution see

there is no

death

i've been trying to eat

less words

and finally learning

who to copy

never mind this writing

the word

becomes the primal scroll

then it's printing the copies

later is the reading and at last is

silence

the grass hut

thank you

tree frogs

yin yang noise

for my grass

hut

god is

the foundation of empire

while mind is

the foundation of dreaming

god

doublespeak

is what

the empire

hears

as truth

truth is

destitute

and homeless

in the speech of

doublespeak

truth is

seeing there appears

to be two

as the world believes

in one

the act of knowing

yourself

there’s the john of revelation

mona lisa now

apocalypse

when the movie

leaves the screen

to walk within your world

it’s basically

over

my generation

the first generation

to see illusion

from behind

because wizardry of tv

the closer you

get to the end

the more I see

there’s no

beginning

we die

when the slow clock of intent

meets the fast clock of transformation

someplace other than

now

listen to the tree frogs

alternating stars and zeroes

ever since the big one

it’s either something

or the other

the difference

between freud and jung

is yin and yang

young

old

i will go

further

as long as i feel

like going

further

honestly

speak your truth

as if it frees

you

or kills you

all these words

aren’t the

eye

of the

hurricane

  

the grass hut

is

one

seen

through

noumenal reflections

neither

rhododendron

mountain laurel

nor azalea

neither summer

leaves

nor winter

snows

neither yin

nor yang

but nameless

tao

there's nothing

personal

in this

process

as you

see it

and

misunderstand

let's say

the noumenal

unknown

spontaneously

knows

the noumenon

and such a knowing is

phenomenal

We Are Kurosawa

On Kurosawa’s Throne of Blood

false ones that usurp

that great immortal god

the noumenal unknown

will now be overthrown

by their own phenomenal truth

On Kurosawa’s Great Humanity

Kurosawa is a singular visionary

but not a nondual one—

his deconstructive sun

blinded focusing his eye

on rubble of imperial delusion

Atomic Dreams

imagine being one

coming of age

in a land

devastated

by two

Credits

know

there is no one

nor other but

that noumenal unknown

i am

Leaving the Remains

Approaching summer solstice,

there's a flower to be faced.

The act of getting to the edge

is not for living on the edge.

Something isn't deconstructed

just to live within its rubble.

Seeing through the false

is not the seeing in itself.

The truth is not extreme,

nor desolate, nor cynical.

Breathe in that fragrance

of a spaciousness beyond

all narrative of space.

The Beautiful Equation

what appears

to be a universe

to you

is just the process of

the absolute's intent to know myself

it's like intent

to see myself

creates a mirror

most appropriate for that doing

you see it's complicated

after the lilac are the leaves

an osprey in the sky above the river

rhododendrons in their final purple burst

a bend in the creek

yellow buttercups appearing in the grass

the mind sees beauty

as this complicated object

to explain

it's not

really

me

you

love

one

I

Sha Ma Na Na

in the world

following awareness

unbelievably

may be a crime

try to make you do time

to avoid doing time

start thinking of

me as

I

love

big pharma is

especially afraid

ah-oooooh

werewolves of

consciousness

the likes of Shakespeare

doesn't write a play

as much as play

is writing

Shakespeare

more like

Shakespeare

is forming

ten-thousand

monkeys

Shakespeare

deconstructive

Basho blank verse some expansive haiku

silencing

the awful noise of holy empire

to bee

or not to be

there never is

a question of the honey

no

the June sun

is shining

through a seeming gap

in the leaves like

Stonehenge

no matter

how you want to slice it

there's no way

you're doing

straight time

summer is

breathtakingly incomplete

without

the appearance of

fireflies

Holding Hands in a Light Blue Thunderbird

From the road approaching Grand Canyon there appears to be a sudden gap in earth and nothing there but open sky.

It's true for people too. Asking who I am, if asked in earnestness, and not relying on another for an answer,

will approach an open space unoccupied by thought, belief, or all conditioning of any form,

resulting as awareness in one's free and open being, as if this universe of space and time was driving

toward this edge from its beginning. Now, the revelation has arrived. The Great Unknowing only knows itself within another.

across the river

river at low slack tide 

strong east wind at my face 

downriver an eagle maybe a seagull 

no. 

buddha nature 

now 

is the month 

of our summer solstice 

made glorious 

green in a synthesis of sun 

across the river

is a wilderness

of eastern white pine

reflecting

across the river

in the smoke

of coming summer

everything is

consciousness

appearing higher

you can lead

imagination

to water

but it won't drink

the inspiration

life

is

a dream

you play

by heart

only

the heart knows

one

divided by

zero

zero shines

at the speed of light

some belief

shadows it

no way

the way

appears to be

bi-polar

but it's only

reflective

across

the river

there is

no

river

On 'The Wizard of Oz' / A Dream Review

the tin man 

like the truly 

empty one 

he is 

follows his heart 

the scarecrow 

stuffed 

with so much thought 

is being 

mindful 

the lion

is in the act of using

its own thoughts

to deconstruct

belief in fear

dorothy

now knows

oz is but a dream

reawakening one to

home

the heart writes the play

and the mind makes it

mythic

so as to see all the action as

the story of one

follow the heart

be mindful

and don't believe

for you are always home

the absolute I of one