Sunday, November 8, 2015

The Divination of I Am

O God save me from religion. O Buddha protect me from all philosophy. O Universe deliver me from scientific theories. O I Am is the only emperor of all ice cream.

Words run deep. Believing in their surface meaning is shallow. Poetry swims in the deep end. Prophecy dives. It has nothing to do with an imagined future. The prophet uses each word to point to the source of all words—now. And the first word is—I am.

Poet or prophet? Matter or consciousness? Science believes in its myth. Prophecy mythologizes all belief. The scientist is the new priest. Shiva is the only prophet. In the beginning was the Word and the Word was I-am.

Shakti is the way to Shiva and Shiva is the way to Vishnu. The prophet must live in a virtual reality, the hermitage of one's doing. All bad habits began as the best Way thinkable. The world is the primal habit. Seeing through the world is self-realization, not stopping it.

One second of self-realization is worth fourteen billion years of evolution—don't undersell your self to Maya. But if you must undersell yourself for you and yours, keep your self alive. Keep dancing in some way. It's either dance or die. Transformation or belief. Jesus doesn't live in a photograph—or shroud.

If poetry swims and prophecy dives, revelation breathes water. Postmodernism is this world's prophecy but Shakti is always the revelator. The transformer. Experience. Nature. Now. I am... That. There is nothing like it. After revelation is silence. I am speechless. That.

Forgiveness first. It's neither heaven nor hell. It's just one side of the river that has no sides. After the necessities, further. Everything on earth is sunlight looking for itself. All religions believe in a way. And will die for the idea of it. Being is the way. Unborn.

Scientifically. Do i have experiential proof of being born? Has death been proved experientially? No, birth and death have not been proved experientially. Using the scientific method itself, all I really know is I am. Case closed. Being open clear free.

So be until otherwise. Being is easy. Try imagining not being. Like science fiction. If a tree falls, does the earth hear it? I am is the only scientific knowledge. Everything else is just an unproven theory. Truth may not be practical but it is experiential.

Deep sleep is I before me. Good night.

Friday, November 6, 2015

Rivers Prayer

O goddess of the rivers
your home is of the sea,
but Son still walks within
this shady pleasant valley
beneath this clear and perfect
liberating open sky—
O Shiva please protect
me with the light of I.


Thursday, November 5, 2015

The Book of Citizen Shiva

The world is just the natural result of living
in the dividing mechanism of the mind.

So trying to fix the world is like
yelling at the theater screen
urging some citizen Cain
to see it’s all about the rosebud.

O Shiva,
how many times do I have to tell you
turn that damned projector off!

Wednesday, November 4, 2015

The Gospel of Being

One’s world is a construction of thought 
requiring continuous habitation 
and constant maintenance 
or the entire fantasy all falls down. 
It’s worker bees and their queen belief! 
But self-awareness is the honey of evolution. 
So be and enjoy.

Tuesday, November 3, 2015

1 Apocryphon with 11 Ways of Looking at Intent

The veil between illusion and intent is 
thin tonight.

Dividing intent, 
suffering is the push 
and desire is the pull.

Effort is ego.
Surrender to intent.

Trying to sleep is insomnia;
going to sleep is absolute intent.

In the divided human hands of misguided Shakti,
a nuclear bomb is just intent playing with itself.

Neither intelligent design nor natural selection
but realizational intent of self.

These are the four directions:
parent, intent, process, child.
Name them gods.

Reflexively,
intent closes the I
opening two eyes
to see with a third eye
that I am.

After seeing through the world
and aligning with intent,
one’s insight enters warp speed.

Resting in the realizational intent of being.
Shiva Shakti Krishna.
I-am.

Warm November sun in Pleasant Valley—
cereal smell of fallen leaves—
half moon northern sky—
great blue heron falls to shore—
pure intent sparkles in the river.


Monday, November 2, 2015

Shiva's Song of Self-Realization

I am. 
These words are timeless 
yet appear to take approximately 
fourteen billion years to say them—
but the world is just the words gone lost 
within their saying. Stop this moment,
listen to yourself and know the universe for what you are,
this sudden silent knowing that I am.

Sunday, November 1, 2015

Mapping Genesis to Revelations with Commentary

In an unknown Vishnu
is the zero Shiva
and the infinite reflexive Shakti
     of a Kali ying
     and Annapurna yang
creating one resplendent Krishna
and his chorus of ten-thousand inspirational devoted Gods.

Then empire kills the bhakta—
science kills the jnana—
kalifornication kills all tantra—
soon monsanto kills the soma—
light is always killing light—
this is the deep black hole of pure awareness
or enlightenment.

Maya is like western medicine—her side effects are endless. The light of consciousness is filtered by the color of a thought and so we cry. Illusion and realization are the two faces of the holy spirit. Direct path is realizing all intelligence is artificial except I-am. Evolution is prologue to the twenty-first century. One way or another, A.I. sees through itself, whether fiction or science fiction. Scientific materialism is just a way of finding more gods to name than the original ten-thousand. To practice is human. To be, divine. Last words? Deconstruct the known—be the unknown. For we are the holy quaternity of Shiva, Shakti, Christ, Picasso.


Thursday, October 29, 2015

Canticle of the Heavenly Fall

As the tree is dropping leaves, 
the tree prepares new leaves. 
Yellow, orange, red and green! 
O goddess you are not unseen—
your central point is always present.

The universe is just your name 
while being is my manifestation 
in all your glorious transformation. 
Sea of green and sky of blue! 
I know myself through me and you.

Wednesday, October 28, 2015

Third Eye Talk

She dawned on me while watching CBS, 'The Big Bang Theory' I believe.

"Third eye is the first eye and two eyes are my ten-thousand things."

I take a little melatonin just to saturate this desert vision in the natural tears of her affectionate awareness.

Thus she comes to me in that rare quality of some hallucination in its final stages,

or its first—my love appears to be a pineapple whose outer layer is dissolving in sweet nothings

which she whispers in the rhyme and rhythm of my dreamtime.

That is what she says.

Tuesday, October 27, 2015

The Psalm of Sleep

Deep sleep is calling to me every night
and every night I follow her to bed—
she gathers me lightly in her arms,
a crescent moon embracing earth itself,
and like the sea we undulate in love
until I spill into her goddess depths
and disappear within that soft unknown.
But in the morning she has left me there
alone, awake, and waiting for the world
to slowly tick this daydream day away.
O Jesus, she will be the death of me!