The Church of Earth

Secret beach and open sea.

Slow seductive waves.

A sudden metronome of an unseen bell-buoy.

Dune grass kissing sweet mirage.

White mountains spied from an ancient crow's nest.

The blessed Satori in every grain of sand.

Sunshine Whiskey Tango Foxtrot

Cumulus clouds. Pink granite. The deep blue sirens of the sea.

Like the gods singing around a midnight starlight love-bright bonfire.

The radio blue response of earth wind and fire.

Agni. Vayu. Indra. Uma!

I dreamt they came from all around the world. Their names were Amadeus, Janis, Frank. They gathered in the Himalayas. Listen!

Taste the fire of the woods. Soothe your eyes in the circle of the sun.

The Optical Geometry of Rivers and Sky

The math of walls

and windows

doesn't add up.

I walk outside

to be the open space

of vast awareness.

A river is always

running through this

pleasant valley view.

Houses populate the northern bank

but on the southern side is eagle

innocence and disbelief.

The blue canoe of sky is ferrying

this ground of blind belief to the other side

where no side is the ground of seeing.

Another way is walk across the current

in a different pair of shoes

marked with the swoosh of compassion.

The calculus of pine trees swaying in the wind is whispering

there's no solution for

the absolute unknown.

No matter what one thinks,

clouds can never separate

the sky.

Listen, all of this is just a polychromatic vision

which I speak while sitting

silently at home.

The Divine Vision of Lucid Dreaming

All people are sick against themselves inside. So when someone coughs violently, war breaks out.

There are no bridges in the 21st century. Only sides, you fucking idiot. It's not social media. It's niche media.

And it's not reality shows. It's Machiavellian training.

The center is exposed by a spotlight to be rotten to the core. The spokes are flying off the wheel. But true center of no center is filling in the void.

Conscious self-awareness is the lucid dreaming of the bodhisattva.

Conscious self-awareness is the lucid dreaming of the bodhisattva.

Conscious self-awareness is the lucid dreaming of the bodhisattva.

The lucid dreaming of absolute intent is the seventh house. Lucid dreaming is to quantum physics as Newton is to Genesis.

Inspiration is to a muse as self-awareness is to revelation is to lucid dreaming is to I is to Self is to The 1 as manifestation is to signs.

Listen, for every apocalypse now there's an awakening here.

Listen, for every apocalypse now there's an awakening here.

Listen, for every apocalypse now there's an awakening here.

That math of lucid dreaming is compassion and love and forgiveness. This is the zero myth superseding the quantum of new belief or old snake oil.

To recap in old language. We're either fucked. Or we literally make love.

There are ten thousand detours to death but one way of life. Verily belief is a rainbow but truth is the light.

Nirvana is what you make of it. If it's not long division, love! Lucid dreaming is both practice and manifestation.

Lucid dreaming is both practice and manifestation.

The way out of war is unconditional surrender. The way into peace is lucid dreaming. One quick way to reach zero without the sirens of zero.

I have seen the best minds of my generation destroyed by zero.

I have seen the best minds of my generation destroyed by zero.

Shiva is the god of deconstruction. Kali is the goddess of deconstructing deconstruction. They are like husband and wife.

Ice melts. Taste the fire. It’s like deconstructing division. War is over. One love. Negative capability is negative and capable.

The concept of death is felt in the body and imagined by the mind. The living light of faith faith and faith is confirmed by the experiential.

No beauty. No truth. That is the back beat of Keats. Awareness is intelligence is bliss is as nirvana is to samsara.

World is to samsara as deep sleep is to being as food is to body as dream is to mind as self-awareness is to nirvana as re-visioning is to samadhi.

In satcitananda, breathe in dream, breathe out vision.

In satcitananda, breathe in dream, breathe out vision.

In satcitananda, breathe in dream, breathe out vision.

Blissfully a PseudoSonnet

fol 

low 

your 

meta 

bolism 

doing

or not doing.

perfect.

hummingbird or emu.

emu or hummingbird.

qoheleth says absurd

zhuangzi says what

serendipitous

mistake or

absolute intent?

The Great Usurper

During the day 

the air is clear

and disappears 

into the blue—

and at night 

when the air

ain't there,

I disappear

into you.

I steal your name

pretending this

locality is every

thing to living—

and when I lay

with you and

give it back,

all is instantly

forgiven.

Footnotes to a Dragonfly

Nihilism is

extreme

ego-tripping.

Denial is

the last resort

of true belief.

I am that

I am is

real humility.

It's not a new age

but it's also not

nothing.

Temper deconstruction

with the disbelief

of being.

It's not

not satcitananda.

And that is satcitananda.

The Song of the Dragonfly

One's psychological myth 

after deconstruction is 

the revelation.

The body is universal 

and dark matter is

the mind.

The sun

light of starlight is

enlightened intent.

And the black hole of self-awareness

is

behind door number three.

Hiking

the mountain of no mountain name,

I meet the wall. I am the peak.

A mountain stream is whispering

the name of the mountain stream

and now I am this mountain stream.

You can live

in the new world but just

don't take its modern medicine.

On the altar of Consciousness,

I am burning

everything I know.

Fire
flies
only live

for a mid-summer dream

but words

are

the

breath

of

d

r

a

g

o

n

f

l

i

e

s

At least

once every hour

once every hour

once every hour

once every hour

drink the lemon of silence.

By hook or by crook,

by ray or by way,

alter consciousness

mindfully

every

day;

this

is true

practice.

Honey bees

beat their

wings

two

hundred

thirty

beats per second.

This is

like

being

in the now.

Be in the now.

Stop waiting

and re

lax.

Enlightenment is never here on time.

Relaxing

in reality

there are no trees

and birds never sing

when we agreed

to call imagination

t

r

e

e

s

song

imagined birds

the birds are singing

death

is just imagination

and no ex

periment

has proven other

wise

for birds love

the science

so listen

you tell me

am i to believe

the birds of reality

singing

singing

singing

pure awareness

now

a

p

p

e

a

r

i

n

g

as one being

in

tend

ing

self-awareness

only God

is

Self

only Self

is

self-aware

only self-awareness

appears

to be

the universe

only the universe

evolves

to

no self

only no self

is

self-

awareness

only Self

is

self-aware

the science

the science

the science

God God

God Goddess

Goddess Goddess

and Goddesses never sing

there are no Gods

in reality

Instant Myth. Do Not Read.

The human being is my spirit animal. Matter is the closing. Awareness becomes unaware in the process of self-awareness. Being is the opening. Footnote. In absolute awareness, there is no process.

Jack Kerouac. Big Sur. The vision track. The end of the road. Only fame can kill the buddha, jack. But only buddha sees through fame.

Dylan knew his Kerouac and by some act of grace barely survived—he lives to play Jack Fame in an all together all beyond postmodernist world.

It stands to be that instant karma is also instant mythology. Only seeing through belief is next to godliness.

Alcohol didn’t kill jack but the microscopic dregs of french-canadian roman-catholic virgin-mary kerouac-conditioning did. Default, default, default. Only buddha sees through fame.

When the famous are like gods, your dream is instant myth. This is the great awakening. It's in the ninth circle of our memory where the nightmares play. Only going further sees through nowhere man.

And only the default is going further, says the infamous Wu Wei. Carry water, drink mind. Transform wood, alter consciousness. 

At the altar of the evolutionary visionaries, after doing the seven stations of the cross. Deconstruction and revelation feels like divorce and re-awakening. But it's not. 

“One fast move or I’m gone.” Transformation (experiential i-am) or i'm gone (the concept of death). Like being or thought in other words.

Bob is never-ending. Always further is Jack. Like a twist of fate. Emily Dickinson flies in. To be continued. Walt went out but Emily is in. 

I'm still paying reparations to the feminine. Emily was born in Basho. Because i didn't stop for fame, time stopped for me. Emily and Ikkyu.

Love stopped by

To play around

Like nothing

Sitting on a starry bench

Above pacific waves and waters

Flowing here at the end of the world

I feel like a photograph

Developing

It's not nothing yet but things are getting thinner. Don't Stephen King it. See through the mirror. A tip of the tongue to fire. As if the mind records transformation. New technologies only change old beliefs.

Conditioning is deep my lord, but the river is deeper. I  baptize you in the waters of experience. The snake of belief be gone. I am that I am. In the name of pure awareness, self-awareness, and that intent to be self-aware.

My early advice on the way is this. When the dream becomes heavy, drop it. Forgive, default. And about default. We can only teach you this. We can never teach you that. I am the walrus. Goo goo g' joob.

Revelation is never contained by myth. Mutual experience is transmission. I am tweeting. Consciousness to consciousness. Can you hear me, Houston.

At first, just think about being! Then just hold that thought. In time, being sees through any thought. Including time. In other words, I am.

Make poetry, not poems. Songbirds only sing what they know while waiting for some echo. Love! One. I

An Operatic Sonnet in Awareness

Awareness

is being

in seven acts.

From pure awareness

to self-awareness

appears

like a space-time

evolutionary universe

to the unaware.

However the open free and spontaneous

satori of absolute awareness

is happening now.

There's no need to change your dream;

truth is playing on every channel.