Tuesday, September 20, 2016

the invisible





Every gesture we make appears as a context, a performance which suggests an audience, an audience which suggests a stage, a stage which suggests space beyond the stage, time beyond the stage, stretching out infinitely, in all directions, an infinite, inscrutable ocean of meanings and experiences that come into sharp focus at the crossroads of that single gesture. As we move, it moves.

The invisible, the infinite, the bottomless, ungraspable speaks when it speaks, as it speaks, about what it would speak through us. We are the midwives of an immaculate conception – the possible become sharp and dangerous right here and now, as our struggle as life against the great death. So our very doing is prayer, our very speech is prophecy, our dance is creation, our music is apocalypse, redemption, cliffhanger - axis. As we speak, it swings.

The Ancestors reach out to the Unborn through us, as our deeds and misdeeds stretching out in both directions, countless generations. So what are we doing, what are we saying, knowing, seeing, feeling in as much as there is truly no life after death, nor death before life for us, only for the Ancestors behind us, only for the Unborn before us, in as much as it is upon our memory that everything we love survives, it is only in our precious imagination that the children of our thought arise? Are we waiting to get it right? Are we waiting to be worthy? Are we hoping for perfection, while the house is on fire? How are we doing, saying, seeing, and sculpting the mask that we are, knowing that there is truly nothing else, nowhere else, but eternity? As we see, we are seen.

Monday, August 8, 2016

It's a conspiracy








It’s all a conspiracy, and it’s true, exquisitely true.
Designed to bring up all the things you’ve ever been
feared,  all the things you’ve hoped for, all the things
you regret, all the things you wonder, all these things
perfectly arranged to make you feel that all
these things are perfectly arranged in
such a way  that you will say,
“Of course this is real, Of course I’m real,
Of course. But, of course. I truly feel the way I feel.
Of course. It’s true. I'm true. I'm real. This is happening.”

So, everything and everyone is happening
in such a way as to suggest
that you are you and that you have a mind.
A total conspiracy .
Self hypnosis.
Where is this mind? Who made it? Who does it serve?
Is it an opportunity? Is it a trap?
Is it a mystery, inside a mystery?
Who is reading this?
Is reading reading this? What is reading?
What is happening?
Is this truly some kind of conspiracy?
Which kind?
If you knew which kind, who would you tell,
and how would you tell?
Truly, ask yourself, when no one
is around, and no one can hear
you, and no one can see you,
and no one really knows you,
and no one, not even you,
knows what you’re thinking,
or that you are even thinking, when
you are by yourself,
ask yourself,
“Can I keep a secret?”


Thursday, July 14, 2016

depth perception





What do you see down there?
What is going on, really?
Have you ever really asked,
What Is Seeing?
Seeing.
Not "Pure" Seeing.
Not some other seeing,
a better seeing, a worse seeing,
a better being, a worse being,
a better life, a worse life,
than the one that being lived,
the living that may not 
even be living,
but rather 
just Seeing.
And if up close,
and in the endless distance,
all our loves, fears, dreams,
and awakenings,
the entire world, and our
entire identity, an infinitude of
worlds, worlds of words,
infinitude of roles, postures, gestures, 
metaphors, suggestions of placebos,
movements within movements,
ungraspable, terrifying -
if all these movements are seen
and all seeings
are just Seeing,
What is going on really?
What is Seeing?
What do you see down there? 


Tuesday, May 10, 2016

teamwork


Something's happening to us. Would we prefer to say that something is happening in us? Above us? Deep inside us? Aren't these descriptions just happening, too? Where are they happening - and most importantly, How? Is it ever even possible to know how things work, how the many parts inside us work together? 

Are there even parts or systems, within us and around us, including us and affecting us? There seems to be a part of us responding to these questions in some way - quite spontaneously, with its own understanding, and that change might be described as parts affecting other parts, people affecting people, thought affecting thought - but right this moment the change that we are is sudden - inexplicable.

If we were to use words to describe the parts of us, the parts in us that are changing, responding, even now, reading these words,  what words would we use? Aren't words parts too? And parts are just words. Can parts truly describe parts? Words describing words can't really say anything about what's going on. Yet that functioning is taking place even as we read this. Shifting. Searching. Working on us. Gaining ground. Convincing us that we are ourselves, instantly - and with proof of purchase, and detailed inventory - a breakdown in parts according to function describes parts in terms of parts. 

Great chain of placebo. Great mirage of a mirage - shimmering. At any given moment we can't help but think we know, and think we think, for perception is so automatic, we may not even call it perception.

There's no such thing as perception.

A distinct response is taking place as we read this. I can feel it and you can feel me feeling it as a response occurs with you right now. I don't know what kind of response - what to compare it to. I don't dare say its happening within you, nor around you, or through you because I really don't know which part is the part of you listening to which part of me is talking, writing, function - so much activity, spontaneous relationship, there's no time to take stock, no stock with which to measure time, for there is no present moment that can frame and contain this seamless response that is occurring for us, reading this.

There is no such thing as the present moment.

But, there is most certainly a response - The so called body. As emotion. The so called mind. As thought. Describing themselves as such. Thinking its feeling, feeling its thinking. Working as a seamless team. Once again, for the very first time, a body that thinks in part appears - sudden, whole, awake - a miracle.

Saturday, April 16, 2016

where we live


where we live
is where we think from
traveling without moving
fearing without feeling
dreaming without sleeping
being without knowing
coming without going
arising while arising

recognizing home
just up ahead
because of
because

where we live
is where we remember
the dream about a thing
called dream
a thought about thing
called a thought
a life about a thing
called a life

where we live
is no place like
where we live
is no one like
where we live
is solid and solid
is where we're born together 
run and play awhile
work and build a little
grow old bit by bit
and somehow die
out of sight
hand of slight
held fast together -
clasped,
for never
anything else but
where we live

Thursday, March 3, 2016

into the night



Into the night, the very back side of day, down tunnels imaginable, without beginning, nor end, the voices, the colors, the feelings keep thinking and thinking...
What is thought, really? Before even asking why this is happening - what is happening? Before even asking what is happening - who is asking? What is it to ask? Is it a prayer? From who, to who? What is this right now, this here, this very thought, unasked for, immaculate conception - what is this thought? What is thought? Can we awaken from the hope of awakening from the dream of our life of our problems of our hope of our past, in spite of anyone and anything that claims to be this life even though its only being lived right now and only now in this very thought? What is thought, really?

Saturday, February 13, 2016

beyond recognition


who am i
ask it beyond belief
who am i
ask it beyond shame
who am i
beyond beyond
who am i
who is writing this
who am i
who is reading this
who am i
who is thinking
who am i
ask it ask it ask it
who am i
who is asking
who am i
what is this
what is happening
what am i really
who am i ?

your life is this cinematographic experience is a magical ritual is where the viewer allows himself, herself, itself to participate in the magic, in the involuntary magic, the irrefutable automatic technicolor of his life, her life, its life -  in order to let it find its own way and its own rule, your very own rule and obey it is truly the whole of the law at this very moment and today mine is the following - i say unto you to find your rule at this very moment and follow it

how do i find it
by finding it
right now
have you found it
good
have you not found it
good
have and have not
have eyes and use them
close those eyes at this very moment
and at this very moment
find it
and follow it

watch it follow you. watch it walk in you. watch it dictate action. watch it breath your thoughts. watch it drip. hear it drip. feel it drip your life, drop by drop, whilst is transforms you
beyond recognition

Saturday, January 23, 2016

it's coming down


it's coming down
right now
all around us
all over you and me
and this might be
just the beginning


Tuesday, January 19, 2016

fellow passengers




who are we really? right there. right then. if we don't know, if we do know, whatever we say is whatever we say and whatever we say comes into play, so let's play that its play ... and forget that we're playing, and see if that can give us just  a little more space, and a nicer ride for those next to us, because those next us might be right next to us.

Sunday, January 10, 2016

the light and the tunnel




light then tunnel, then light then tunnel, closer and further to the life of death. what if we're alive? what if we're actually alive? even if they're all dead, all of them but life. Waking up again and before, dreaming into what is as what was - every second, third, fourth, fifth dimensionless, time less, space less, words less than my single eye itself which is raw, blood and pulse, blinking a shutter speed unknown except by you, my only love. down here we are steel screaming, digging through hope, dirt, and changing, changing - does it matter? does it matter at all, since we're worming a hole to keep coming at us more, and discover this first familiar face who is the very end of color, who is the very beginning of thought? fascination. a black hole. fascination. a white light.  more. ever more.

Saturday, January 2, 2016

she never sleeps

 



she never sleeps. there's someone downstairs from you that's awake before you're awake and awake as you fall asleep, awake while you dream, awake while you shit, while you shower, while you plan, while you speak, while you live and live and live again, she never sleeps. since she never sleeps, you can't know who she is, and can't know who she isn't, yet you are well aware that right now she hears everything you talk about upstairs, everything you do upstairs, every move you make, down to the minute you make it, knows everyone you've ever invited inside, and why. since she never sleeps, since she knows everything you know, you might say she's a part of everything you know. since she's heard everything you've said and done, you might say she's part of everything you say and do. since she's seen so much, heard so much, about what you do and who you are, she's probably way beyond judgement, way beyond criticism, way beyond opinion, absolutely impartial about which, what and why, yet intimately aware, intimately involved, and since she lives downstairs, she probably wants peace most of all - just like you. since she hears everything you say, even at the darkest hour, it might be interesting to start talking to her. who knows? since she's always here, always has been and always will be, and is here right now ... it might be an extraordinary thing to attempt to listen to her. what might she say?