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Holy Spirit

800px-Vishnu_Vishvarupa

Holy Spirit

America, America
In luxurious new dream daylights
Resurrections of gray –
With new boldness in splendored
Panoramas of praise;
A trillion eyes deepened
With fractured light beam
From the rupture leaked
From the photosynthetically green streams
Of bright golden blue sunshiny rays
Wistfully basking
In jagged fissures of tireless
Space with holy love’s obedience and grace
From the indigo bleakness,
Not the amethyst ecstasy
Mystically hewn,
Nor in diaphanous praises
Pallor to the grooves of ivory bone,
But ripe with the formless white cracks
Deepening rift,
In defiant branching of triad in new strains,
Pretty soon they’ll be saying,
When they made me
They made a mold
Unbreakable as it stands
Leaning in toward a deep purple kiss,
Through the raspberry wilds
With new money hacked winds
As faith she so desperately yearns to enjoy,
For life’s heightened new bastions
And meaningless ploys,
Ever more unravelled in the gloaming of souls,
Love poems rambling, roaming, and racing,
Yonders of yonders thick
In a star farms fervid ardor,
Cresting at the brink of a shorelines blue skies
Flying high on the freedom of abandonments wings
Through the violet blue love fire
Snow white radiance sings
A lost fate lobotomy of a human worthless flower,
In an unbridled affront to sound reasoning power
From a holster was held a dangerous hair-trigger gun,
In a race for the purest of novelties
A soul never wanders,
A soul never dies never
A soul never cowers,
A soul never sours
We went out and the lunar limb
Eclipsed
Blessed and young blue moon
Joys of freedom trick traces
In the dark night of the soul
Deep in a fiery free spiritual bloom,
Lost in the consequential doom
Found in the deepening afterglow,
A bright shadow’s dream witness
A brazenly new fissured bright creviced
Cracking through the fiery rift,
In the technicality of hopelessness, on a new sacred drift
Lost in entanglement, wired with a record of danger
Deep in a box of crazy words strewn,
Scrambled without any hope of new clues
Wild alien sex
With a few harmless flowers
Novel weed stoked in nobility towers
On the heightened high wire of electrical juice
In the throws are the demons of constant abuse
In need of the trust that can skedaddle both ways,
Gambled love’s loneliness in impossible ways
Frozen in mental lights burned into dust
By the depth of one’s soul
With the flames of our deep co-regenerative whole
In the flame of ones fire
In the fire of one’s soul
In the helplessness and hopelessness of the coffin box,
Or the durability of a pair of crusty sox…
In the loss of lost fame never found now to lose,
In all games and future games forward
The angry red dragons insatiable hunger
In the rich hallowed halls of great wisdom and wonder,

All other roads are dead ends
And a waste of time and effort,
The cul-de-sacs of the material realm
Loop us around and around, again and again,
In repetition of the same futility,
And the streets are all one way,

I look to traverse the freeway
That leads to the wedding feast,
Where perpetual celebration is the order of this day
Of marriage,
And we are intoxicated with the divine wine of perpetuity,

Hold fast to the pierced feet of Jesus, the Savior,
For his is the most advanced galactic positioning system
In the cosmos,
As his guidance is sure,
And his aim –
Impeccable,

Everything is perfect,

We are energy!

Jumping, whipping wires
Of snaking, exploding consciousness,
Spines, nerves and brains,
We can’t stop it,
We can’t start it,
It just runs though us
Like a wild, invincible river of light,

Gushing beyond
The fictive boulders of presumed reality,
Like an endless barrage,
Like nuclear fission fusing, coiled,
Rocking, flaring, brimming,
Screaming,
Kundalini rising immortal one,

Sheer life!

Yet, if today we were to know
Even a scintilla of a shadow of GOD’s silence,
We’d be crushed into nothingness
By love.

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Can Can Girls

can

Can Can Girls

It’s never too late to start new,
To be the good guy,
To raise the hidey high,

It’s never too soon
To break the good news,
To make their tears dry,
To help their sorrow die,

It’s never too gray
To just bloom,
To open up just like a rose –
To rocket like a rocket man –
To say yes to all those crazy no’s,

And to dance the yellow can can,
With the can can girls
At the can can dance.

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Crack Cocaine

Robert frost the great American Poet once was asked what he thought his greatest poem was. He said, “The last one I wrote.”

I experience that allot. Every poem (almost every poem) I write I’m super pumped up about. I can’t wait to share it. I run into problems when I realize it’s not that good and I have two do a lot of rewrites. Occasionally 40-50 times (not often) Sometimes people tell me when I send them a thousand rewrites of the same poem that they liked the first one best. Urrgh.

Crack Cocaine

Writing poems is like crack cocaine,

Every poem I write puts me
In heaven,
Briefly,

Wow. I just wrote the greatest poem
In the world, ever written, I’m convinced,

Then I crash,

I crash a lot,

But not right now…

There are several hundred crows
Coming in with the blizzard.

Note: Incidentally, I’ve never tried crack cocaine. But the delusional aspect of the warped reality of a poems fresh beauty I imagine to be quite similar. I would never recommend the use of crack cocaine to anyone. It’s on my bucket list, however, reserved for the day before I die.

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Reverberations

POC

Reverberations

The world only acknowledges
What the world always acknowledges –
Money, power, and prowess,
Anything short of that and you’re screwed,
And thus the source of all corruption
Is the universe their itself –
The forces of domination, dominion,
Survival,
Deception, control, duplicity,
The True Guru is the Holy Spirit –
That aspect of the One GOD
That comes to the aid
Of an aspirant’s request,
Giving glory to God
By it’s own “real world manifestation”
In the form of love;

Academia, mostly preaching,
And even real preaching is mostly suspect,
But the wisdom of the Holy Spirit,
Go ahead, shoot the messenger,
Go straight to the source –
Confiscate his stash, not mine,
I wash my hands of it,
The handwriting is beyond the stars,
I’ve requisitioned the perfect nudge,
Bedazzled thought,
And now breath in pure GOD gold
Having been –
Confirmed
Baptized
Converted
Saved
Born again
Or recovered,
Chosen
Destined
Preordained
Self-ordained,
Just ordained
Or rediscovered,
Having prayed to GOD every day
On our own, requiring no intermediary,
Having gone to church every Sunday
Faithfully, to atone,
Having a certificate, or diploma,
Or having passed a course called – “Repentance 101,”
Or been dismissed from any crime
In the best interests of justice,
To do any or all of these things, and more,
Does not mean we have a golden ticket to paradise,
Or a get out of jail free card,
Or a supernaturally endowed
Special dispensation,
Lined with sunglow streaks of proverbs
From the days of old,
And so being a good person in one’s own mind
Still requires a celestial decree,
And does not rest at all upon worldly human opinion,
But focuses exclusively
Upon the vast magnanimity of the sacred heart
Of GOD alone,
We are surfing the crest
Of the climax;
The crest of a dream
That cascades into
The ecstatic throbs
Of a vast unknown into known,
What would be the evolutionary advantage
Of having consciousness?
Or that one entity’s trinket is another entity’s jewel?
And, were there stages of the development
We are products of a deviant strain
Who chose love over power and self pride,
A fractured loony maze
Of seraphim winged tumult,
The obscene golden finger raised,
By the proud Mary, in blasphemy
Toward the one true Savior, Jesus, the Lord
And Savior, the Prince of Peace,
Jesus Christ!
The universal hum
Is eternal expression,
of transcendent proclamation,
an endless heralding,
Of radiance of everything,
As when death and life first locked lips,
Religion and science are not mutually exclusive,
They’re intrinsically interwoven,
The realization of GOD
And our relationship with GOD
Is forever accelerating,
Individually, as well as collectively,
A star can burn forever
On the threshold of a dream,
Some things sound so right they must be true!
If we never go out on the limb of faith,
We’re forsaking the sweetest, most tantalizing
Fruits of existence,
Every human and every fruit fly are made
From the same six molecules of DNA,
From the same five atoms,
Every thing in the universe is everything else,
What makes you kills you and then makes you again,
Yet salvation, unlike most things,
Is not a collective predisposition,
As is evolution –
The soul, like the all it is a drop of,
Cannot be described adequately,
But like the sunrise,
The truth that’s in our eyes
There is a depth of being
A formidable anchor of life
That circumvents the death and decay
That is the world
Disguised as an unattainable lover
Disguised as something dire to being
Like air, like food,
Disguised as a mysterious beauty
So mysterious as to make one dream
Of things not dreamed
So intoxicating as to make one refuse the wine
Of a million suns
So ineffable as to make one deaf
To the cadence of inner mounting paradise,
I drink the world
But am only drunk for a fortnight,
In drinking what is beyond the world
My intoxication is without beginning or end,

Awareness,
Just a perfume of power
Floats up
To the sacred window, eerily,
Yet so sweetly,
Infiltrating kingdoms in the guise
Of unruly flowers, red,
Extravagant, disarming,
A trojan horse within each bloom
A whim on a whimsy, a holy ghost,
A golden ticket
Out of Hell, (Both state and place);
An infinity pass,
Why would one denigrate oneself
In a deal with the Universe’s original grifter;
To go back? To defy?
A blossom,
A song whose melody
Intervenes and haunts
Throughout the salvationist fandango;
Sipping from the bottomless well,
Whose water transubstantiates into a miraculous wine,
A wondrous, preternatural operetta,
In the crystal, cool breeze and sweet forest fountain
As charms for their collective molecules,
Light is God,
Heat, warmth and temperature are God,
Molecules are God,
Atoms, the glue between atoms,
And the Chitra and Gupta raging in God,
All universes imaginable and unimaginable are God,
Without God
There is nothing,
A barren emptiness that doesn’t exist,
A suffocating, breathless vacuum,
A desperate scream that has no sound,
No distance,
No life, no force, no surrender,
Perpetually muted blackness,
Nothingness that can never be real
Because once observed to be nothing,
Is no longer nothing, but “not nothing”
That requires an observer who is “not nothing”
Necessitating the concept that there is never nothing,
Never was nothing, and never can be nothing,
All laws, principles and elegant equations
That exist in existence
Eventually boil down to one truth,
True love is no joke,
God is not nothing,
Oblivion an impossibility,
God is real.

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Jokerman

Mosaic2

 

Jokerman

I like revolutions
Make me spin,

I’m all for the forward motion
Enthrall me,
I’m your thrifty win,

Please do use the heavy make up,
I’m your actor
Learned my lines,

You can scamper all you want to
But I’m the jokerman,
And you’re the find,

Life is so astounding
I wouldn’t want to have all of it
In my ridiculous mind,
So I delegate
I deal,

And on a good day,

I pray,

You’re not supposed to go against the grain
Your not supposed to color outside the lines,
Or make a drift
Against the true
Lucky if you dare
Lucky if you do
Applause if you do
Misery if you do,

But that’s what we’re made for,

Lucky to dare,
Lucky if you do,

You’re not supposed to shine inside my heart
Find your own heart,
Unless you like me,

Everybody knows love is invisible,
But what holds everything together,

Is this the revolution,
The switch in dimensions
That myst eyed wide state
Of disbelief?
That everything lasts forever
And we are everyone?

This is my key to heaven…

I’m a human
I’m a lark,
I’m a four leaf clover,

We’re in a prison of unending love…

We’re a song bird
We’re the jewel shine
We’re a caged Lark,

We’ve earned and deserve nothing,
Everything is a blessing, everything a gift,

We’re blessed,

As soon as we’ve earned or deserved something
We have to compare ourselves to others,

There’s no comparison,
All comparison is illusory,

We deserve to be happy?

Who’s happiness?

The work a day world’s happiness?
Money, children, power, beauty and glory?

That’s a thing,
Not a state of being,

OK, we’ll allow you to be happy,
But it has to be in alignment with
What we frame parenthesize happiness to be,

We’re in a prison of unending love,

One drop of kindness given
Is worth a whole audience universe
Of standing applause,

Lucky lady liberty,
Luck, lucky, Lady Liberty…

I’m the treasure trove
Of awareness love, sweet darling,

My job is to figure things out –
It get’s messy,
There’s pain and tragedy,

My job is to find the holy golden note,
I’m not complaining
I’m on fire,

Everything is victory!

There’s got to be blossoms in paradise
Made of thoughts that I’m thinking of you
Blessed pink with red aura waves poltergeist
Blossoming, simmering
Oversights blue,
A tribute to your new view world order,
Are the things that I love around you,
No need to be emptying anything
Got your fossil, got your scent, got your smack,
There’s just enough hope to rope everything
And just enough back to get back,
I’m your bright shiny polished found souvenir
Lost in your treasure chest name.

It’s where the sweetness is,
But ain’t where the gold is ground to blood,

It passes near the never knows,
Past the silence and the fear
I grasped and asked and basked, and cast a spell on you,
In the swollen golden
Holy monumental flood,

And GOD made you come out of me,
And he made me from mud,

I forbid you to look into
My ancient eyes
My wisest wise
My sized size,

I won’t let you relent,
My one and only,
My holy flowing lonesome running swiftly only,

Looky, looky here
Oh come all yeh faithful
Come…recognize,
There’s more than the tiger lily bower bowing here
There’s more than the fore stuff
Of Fore Furthers feathered in plums of
Leather waxing faxing,
I’m silent like an apricot,
Like a forest,
Hot like a fox to trot,

You’re after me,
As I recline in silence
Orange,
Falling…
Falling after me,
If you haven’t been powered and gloried before
I’d put it on my bucket list,
Nothing means anything;
And that’s a very important decision,
Anything but dying
That’s what I say!
Three cheers!
Forward! Forward! Forward!
Marching…
To everlasting life multi-sparkling and faceted,
Dealing, reflected,
Diamond
Power
Wisdom
Gnosis,
Hearts, clubs, trumps,
One GOD and one gorey glory story
There is no winning the lottery,
GOD is love,
Remove yourself from the long and winding
Hide and seek boogaloo down broadway list,
Time to awaken,
Time to accept
That the only thing we’ll ever get
Is the most precious thing imaginable,
So there’s no choice after all
We’re made to be free,
We’re part of the bargain bound in love
And that’s the focus of the sacred,
On the precious nature of it’s very essence,
Divine Mercy
And Divine Mercy is radiating freely
From the core of the nothing
And the core of the everything
GOD’s tithe of love unto us, humanity,
That even the angels became jealous of
But GOD is GOD
After all,
Not a bully but a radiation of pure mercy
On the button
That’s what time it is,
That’s the Master’s touch,
The body and blood,
The wine of love,

GOD prefers his nap
To all this rigamarole
He winds us up and lets us go
Wild on the table,
He perks up for novelty
He’s resurrected in the wine
Coursing through the awakening blood, the languaged, muffled
Announcement
I’m one with
The universal
Yard sale
The calamity
The jewel
The precious essence,
The mojo
The masterpiece
The one love,
The find of finds,

I found this jewel
Hidden in the garbage
Spread out for all those manic rounders,
To search for, to hope for,
To steal, to rule,
To discover and make use of,
Hidden somewhere within the dirty briefs
Over there
Beyond the treasure,
Beyond the extra special measure
Beyond the star’s sunlight
Beyond the ostentatious lamp of gold,
Beyond the raspberry sprinkling of amethyst
Veiled
Cast aside
Abandoned
On the table,
Useless,
A jewel,
A pearl,
A whim,
A ghost
A treasure,

I foresaw it’s special beauty
And wonder,
I proclaimed it as my own
While everyone else
Considered it a valueless fairy tale,
Strewn amongst the nothingness
Left out for the flies
And the sun,
Abandoned,
At the picnic,
Available to dogs,

I’ve gone within,

Within and without
I fell upon the silent stream
We’re all just lucky guys,
I guess,

The sun’s sure shining down,
As we go the rings around
The centerverse,
I think that you should know
We’ve all been shown the show
To show
The tiny sweetness that emits
The tender known approval magic mountains,
Rocks and worlds –
All in just one kiss,
Praying,
I am your’s,
Adi Shakti,
All to Jesus
As an act of God,
And not a paltry, squirming slimy
Rotten death,

I found the masters lock on everything
Overlooked, considered fools gold,
Cast aside,
I turned the key

And now wistfully I ride

And ride and ride,

At the end of the day
When all is said and done,
At the close of the eyes
In pure lullaby tidy lies the love
And how time flies and flies and flies
To reinstate hope
To resurrect dignity
Where these pathless paths
Have all glistened and saddened,
Once broken,
Learn to accept to become
Mongrels before the sweet, pure, infinite sunrise,
Bearing witness,
To the unquestionably divine radiance
In magical, mystical, merciful, maniacally,
Endlessly
Emerging flower arrayed angled in love,

Finally living alone
After 27 years
Of living with a lonesome self
Who has a tendency to complain
Who doesn’t wear his hat out in the rain,
Balding head,
A diplomacy, a punishment, a mediocrity
In the spotlight
Dancing before the universe
And hoards of magnetic angelic majesties
From outer realms,
Who make brief occasions of surfacing
To forecast yet another love,
To bring meandering rag muffin soul
Down and out of the holy holy hole,
Lowly girl,

Whom he took into his heart
And gave her name a home
And called it love,

For crying right out too the unbutressed loud!

You’re gonna catch me aren’t you?
You’re gonna snuggle right up like love
Aren’t you?

You’re gonna give me peaches without you,
Or some such other foreign fortune
Doubt you,

When the jimmy jasper
Becomes the alabaster,
And the fortune tooth all is thus floral now
Fortune sooth sun section unrecognized,

My high wired engine
Puts to bed the quest
Through the wilderness,

If you ain’t seen me I’m your alibi,
Your forked tongue speak,
Luke recognize,

High on another planet labeled infinite,
Clearing traffic jams,
Nothing is emptiness
Winning passage scams,

Believe,

For a long time I thought
I was the only thing that existed,
Trailblazing is a lonely profession,
Then it came around to you,
You were a flame,
You had a hued blue corona
All those things
I had triumphed and resisted
All came down to you,
You desired my soul,
And when temptations burden
Thrilled the rest of me, and dances lifted,
I was still your lonesome sojourner
As I will always be,
In search for you,
My lonely, mousey little mystery,
My sister,
My one and only Mother Mister,

Not until you’ve been bewitched
By GOD
Have you really been bewitched;
Bewitched by the mix
Of any witch’s
Missioned wish at all
To haunt and fix,
I bow to the dawn of humankind,

To the awakening of love…divine,

I broadcast success
You salted swashbuckler
You charmed illuminant
There’s no more time for failure,

She drove me brilliant
She was my everything
She was my flower garden
She was my scent of hair
She was my forethought, after hours,
Star pride, lumineer
She’s my Venus calls,
My Hail Mary
My Joan of Arc,
My Alice
Through my new wonder-walk
My angel, my tongued lark,
Deep inside my heart,
That gets down to the roots
Of the back
Of sinus nostril veins harsh,
Those horseradish roots
Where roots where first formed
Reformed First Church Methodist
Rewind rebound,
Branded in Catholic tattooed,
From the first star dust snort
Those roots could’ve been froze,
It wouldn’t mattered,
Old stock from Virginia,
Virginia USA, wouldn’t mattered,
Plant the back a you spine down
In that glitz,
Hey up,
Round and round she whips
But nobody knows where she ever gets
And nobody knows where she woulda flow flowed,

You’re my Lady,
My Guadalupe
You’re my act of GOD,
You’re my prison chained with tears
You’re my last debacle
Your my lion fire
My universe
My jaguar
My morning star,
You’re my Mona Lisa
And my Lisa Mona,
You’re my rosary,

Lady liberty!
Luck, Lucky, Lady Liberty!

The Puzzle of puzzles
The Ghazal of ghazals
Life is a game of diminishing delusions
With a crack of reality right up you know
Where the sun don’t shine,
Just where you don’t want the remind remind,
Returns,
Just as a friendly reminder; Ace,
Sleeve Religion Love, God,
Santa Claus will laugh
But there’s that elf inside,
Trying to drive on blindly
When I’m right here,
Advising, confiscating, witnessing….
Nudging, wheeling
Dealing….promoting…

Writing poems…

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The 10 commandments Of Making Love with GOD

god

The 10 commandments Of Making Love with GOD

You have to be in shape
To make love with GOD…

What’s that mean?

Well let’s see now:

1.) You have to love GOD
Unconditionally,

2). You have to sweeten the pot,

3.) You have to love everybody,
Whether you like it or not,

4.) You have to dance to the mystery,

5.) You have to reach for the Sun,

6). You have to guide and console
The forlorn of universe,

7.) You must lean to say I’m sorry
And meant it,

8.) You must learn to accept the heaven’s from above,

9.) You must be willing to give your life for the truth or a friend,

!0.) You have to smile, be happy and make love,

That’s what we’re making, that’s what this is…

LOVE.

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Arthur Rimbaud

AR.jpg

Arthur Rimbaud

You should have known,
Mad genius as you are, not having yet lived,
That “beauty” was never more
Than a hauntingly, deceitful temptress,
And that by abusing her,
She would one day have her revenge,

You should have understood,
As a master escape artist,
That justice would some day conquer you,
Even if you wielded a treasure of arms,
And hid in unknown realms,

You should have realized,
That running away was never an option,
That the soothsayers and witches
Would promise you the world
In exchange for your precious soul’s individuality,
Then leave you alone in stark, suffocating emptiness,
Howling at the moon,

You should have been aware,
Having an intellect that rivals the Seraphim,
That by leaving “hope”
Out in the open;
The famished, shadowed entities
Would devour it on sight.

You should have been frightened
When languishing under the executioners blade
And laughing like a psychopath,
That crime and plague, misery, and wallowing in filth
Would not redeem you, or set you free,
And that insanity could never be out guessed,

You should have figured out,
As a master detective of the human soul,
That “infinite love” was the key,
The first time it was offered to you
In the meadow,
On that mystical, amethyst dawn
In June,

You should have comprehended,
Inheritor of every blessing imaginable,
That the prince of abomination;
The avatar of lies,
Is in no way sweet,
That surrendering to darkness
Because light is too hard,
And willfully succumbing to both defeat and death,
Is what turned your heart to stone,
You should have known.

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Falling Short

anoint2

Falling Short

If I had the Clarity of St. Paul
The Wisdom of Solomon,
The Simplicity of St. Teresa of Lisieux
The Courage of Joan of Arc
The Trust of St. Faustina Kowalska,
The Knowledge of St. Thomas Aquinas
The Chastity of St. Augustine
The Fortitude of Mother Teresa
The Faith of St. Bernadette
The Obedience of Padre Pio
The Kindness of St. Francis
The Humility of St. Anthony
The Hope of St. Monica
The Insight of St John of the Cross
And the Compassion of Mary, mother of God,

And if I had the Love
Of the anonymous “sinful woman”
Who bathed Jesus’s feet with her tears,
Wiped them with her hair,
Showered them with her kisses,
Then anointed them with oil
When at Simon the Pharisees’ party,

I would still fall short
(But not by much)
Of exemplifying
The purity and magnitude of the Lord’s Infinite Mercy
For us all…

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Wisdom #484

b

Wisdom #484

Being married to wisdom means
Wisdom can be our only love,
Jealous as she’s become,

Any involvement with the world
Is a betrayal of our oath,
Our promise, our allegiance,
Our unswerving commitment
To her white light,
Deep beyond the starlight deepened vines
And burgundy wines
She summons me,
And I attend
Her penitential dark night,
With her judges, patriarchs, prime-ministers
And kings,
Who kneel down upon her fateful mat;
Where solemn, dire entities
Of Solomon’s furthest unknowns
Recline singing,

Imminent is the sweet sweet dawn,
Stealthily, slowly
She dissolves,
Particle by particle
Seeping in through the walls,
The veils,
Notion by infinite notion,
The shrines of blackness are displaced
And we are flooded
Aware,
Bathed, illuminated,
Awakened, inculcated;

A sudden, hopeful brushstroke
Of sunglow atop indigo;

A humble, irrepressible puja,
A dhuni blaze,

A salutation,
A bequeathal,
A betrothal,
A resurrection,
A summoning

A saturation

To a new day,
To a new dawn

Unto her impossible masterpiece.

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Sunshine Vest

bbb

Sunshine Vest

When I finally come to my dying day
Will I say goodbye to me
Or stay
To droop along
On the honey hocks
Or will I muscle up and go around
The paths that make me play
Along the long along,
And roll the ball that day
Like Sisyphus I hear you say
Or if I silent sound sourced magnificence
To be the cosmic calling calling call
Something someone guessed,
I never planned
This wondrous sunshine vest,
This universe
To be in me
This wine and blood
This graveyard
This rising
This resurrection
This famous
This nothingness…

The waves roll
The snow clears
And we’re on the crest
Never fear, never rest
The side show is lame here
The bars close
The sky clears
The range yellows
The fruit frees
You’re rainbows,
You’re the jewels of peace.

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Karma Chameleon Refined

kc

Karma Chameleon Refined

Consciousness is exploding
But infinitely slow,
That to focus slows it down more,
And to open
Is
To rev right up and go!

I heard the boldest crack of thunder,
Makes me wonder what that
First fuckin human monkey
Must have wondered,

Are you mad at me?
I didn’t make the apple
Or the tree,

I was thrown into this universe
Like a roll of the dice
Like ice,
Like a lonesome drop of random
Unextraordinary I-ching sticks,
A tarot mirror matrimony
All in, now get your kicks,

Infect me
I’m titivated with your Masterpiece
Worn down by your gust of hair,
Avatar, the truth beware
Your swarthy musk
Purple perfumed hair
Fired by you’re superfly
Chameleon
Equator
Fear throttle,
The symphony of creation sings,
Masterpiece
Thorn in the side
The I hide,
The crucifix,
The beware
The prefix
The emptiness
The suffix
The new list
The wondrous notion
That wondrous fix of a fix.

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Citadels Of Awareness Augmented

sit

Citadels Of Awareness Augmented

It’s possible to love someone
Without having sex with them,
Other than our relatives
And so in that way,
In the recognition of GOD within ourselves,
In the blossom of GOD
Lighting up the citadels of awareness,
Men may love men
And women may love women,

Abstinence from homosexuality
Never means abstinence from love,
For there are much deeper ways to love
Than through sexual pleasure,

And the answer to the puzzle, the mystery,
The riddle of being,
Is in aligning ourselves
With the meditation medallions of the beloved
Who meditates on us, in us, for us,
And through us,

Through Jesus, the Beloved Avatar,
Beloved Savior
Beloved soldier
Beloved sufferer
May we align ourselves with the truth and the light
Of the real,
To do good things for others,
Even as we struggle and bumble our way
Through the bowels of existence
In the agony and the ecstasy
In the simple processes
Of being and becoming
Our most powerful individual selves,
With allies
Here’s the wine shop
Thank the memory
With an ancient blend
Brewing slowly
Like a magic wand
By his merciful forgiveness power
Blessed be
Blessed stone cold
Blessed love,
Blessed avalanche,
Blessed name caller
Up all night with GOD
Free from suffering,
Up all night with the candle drop flame
Blue corona rainbow in the water faucet
Up all night with the universe
Sprinkling flowering star farm ardor,
And just one lonesome trickle,
One stallion, one firecracker,
One stardust, one luminary
One atom, one motion, one freedom
One forgiveness, one silence,
One mighty mighty liberty,
One essence, one kindness,
One elegance, one dignity
One scintilla, one mustard seed,
One fragrance, one fathom,
One whim,
One grain of sand
One sorrow
One crucifix
One love,
One GOD
One GOD’s eternity eternally.

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Doubt

wood

Doubt

The wise question the tries
Gesturing,
Who could ever endeavor
To pleasure the circular rout?

How’s won’t associate with nows
Who live behind golden gilded Dows,
In balconies
Through emerald seas,
Far above all the burning ages
In the crux of frequently fingered pages
Above all the howls and the joules
From wooden towers
Another symphony,
And the bows, and the troughs
And the owls and the bowels
And that nagging, unshakable, magical
Lingering doubt?

Would you ever endeavor
To better the bettor
Who bet on the better who
Fed off the debtor
Who leaves them all gleeful
Incentives
To intricate nothingness
Drama and trauma
And fruitful young emptiness
Well far beyond
In the countdown
To the silence
To tantra
To center
To oneness
To beauty
To power
To glory
When we’re finally let into
Loving the infinite out?

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The Kiss Of Judas

judas.jpg

The Kiss Of Judas

If anyone ever asks you did I kiss
The kiss of Judas,
Tell them yes I did,

And I repented I don’t know how many times,
But never only once,

If anyone ever asks you
Did I see the gates of heaven
Tell them yes I did
With angel floods of jewel colored roses
Bursting from within,

If anyone ever asks you
Could I really ever do it,
Tell them no I wouldn’t,
Nobody knows what goes on
In the hereonasfter,
To make that crucial move,

If anyone aver asks you did I give
My soul to Allah,
Tell them yes I did…

And to Jesus
Yahweh, Johanna
And Baba,

It’s where I found the love.

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Sister Moon

moon

Sister Moon

I’m ashamed of Hercules,
And Samson was a moron,
The Great Gatsby was a stalker,
He wouldn’t be allowed to pull that shit
Today, but then again,
Money is always money,
You know how that always goes,

In the deep love of art
You get a glimpse,
Of the genuine originals
As part of the one spirit,
And therefore made
In the image and likeness of our
Own relationship with existence
And GOD apart from existence,

Relativism, secularism, humanism,
Atheism, Utopianism,
Leaning on the world
As if the world was not duplicitous,
Trusting the limitations of nouns,
All dependent on the forbidden jewel-eyed
Roped random spasmodic purple
Star thrusts into fertile eternity,
Thunder that shimmered with vibrational flaxen love,

Then he showed me my companion, finally,
Blood of my blood,
Heart of my heart,
Bone of my bone,
Sister Moon.

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The Box

box

The Box

The scholar expounds,
His treatise is full,
Exuding the balmy airs of scholastic narcissism,
He proclaims,
“I am a scholar.
There is no God.”

A self-anointed freethinker, he states,
“The idea that “A Supreme Being” exists
Is something invented
Between the ears of human heads
And, by the way,
Is an intrinsically arrogant concept
Considering that vastness of the universe.”

Continuing, he adds,
“This all merciful “figment of humanity’s imagination”
That the ignorant adore
Hides behind the walls of war,
Peering from behind anesthetized pillars of greed,
He looks out from His window
And watches a bloodthirsty bedlamite
Blow up another thirty innocents in the street,
And lets it all happen,
Does this make any sense?”

“This Almighty Being,
That the pathetic fall prostrate before,
Turns a blind eye to famine,
A death that is not only agonizing, but shameful,
He doesn’t intercede for the horrified mother
Just learning her beloved child is gone,
Where is He, if He exists?,

“He allows terror, violence, agony, tears,
And sometimes those who sing His praises loudest
Are the worst perpetrators of these atrocities,
And in the name of God!”
The scholar shouts,
“What kind of loving Creator
Would create a world like this?

The crippled, the leper,
The deformed, the broken hearted, the betrayed,
The diseased, the dismissed,
How could any benevolent God be,
That would allow all this?

And then, this so called wonderful, loving Father
Tops it all off
By ending everything
In decay and inescapable death,

And His piteous proponents reach out in futility,
“God, God, Oh my God, look at me!”
Do people with any intelligence at all
Actually believe
That within a realm that contains over a billion galaxies,
That an all powerful God listens to them? Focuses on them”?
Entities that are infinitesimally minute scintillas of near nothing,
Minuscule cogs in a massive wheel
Endlessly grinding?
What arrogance! What folly!”
He continues,
“Why would God care about the petitions and prayers
Of a single, solitary voice? What hubris to even think so!”

“Between the ears of vulnerable people,
The concept of God is implanted,
To keep the masses in line, to make them obey,
To somehow sooth the agony,
To somehow give them hope enough, false though it may be,
To stumble and crash through
Another day, another year, another lifetime,”
Says the scholar,
Peering desperately
Into his own abyss,
Alone.

But the Beloved cannot be limited so easily,
He cannot be pinned down or boxed in.
Countless have tried to describe Him,
Countless have failed,
Because the Ancient One cannot be confined
To the tiny rockets of electricity
That scatter and ricochet
Along the neuro-pathways in our skulls,
No matter how brilliant we are,
No matter how great or evil we are,
No matter how rational or scientific we are,
No matter how free thinking
We believe we are,

God exists infinities beyond what
We can ever ascertain
With our finite intellectual capacity,
He is everything, everywhere,
At all times, and in no time,
Thinking that you can measure Him
Empirically or mathematically
Is the real fairy tale,

What earthly utopianists convey is that
If “We” were God,
We would never do all these horrible things,
Or allow them to happen, or
If “We” were God
We would not waste time on people’s individual problems, hopes and prayers
When there are so many more important things in the universe
To take care of,
God is inside “My” box, I have made him “My” concept,
And since I cannot conceptualize something that exists outside of my box,
He cannot be real,

But “We” are not God,
And God cannot be confined
To the limitations of our conceptual or ideological boxes,

God is outside the box of the universe,
In fact, He juggles boxes of universes,
And universes of boxes,
And thus, does not conform to the rules, laws and mechanics
Of what exists

We are not God,
Not near to knowing His lahars and inclinations,
The consciousness of the consciousness
Of the oneness of God
Is an evolutionary leap for humankind,
Not a ”pie in the sky” theory, or mere concept,

God injected a drop of himself
Into every human,
Occasionally you see it, it’s rarely a big thing,
But it’s unmistakable,
And you know, deep within, its name is love,
Because you know there’s something true, something real,
Something beautiful about it,

You immediately comprehend
That all the tragedy is for something,
That evil is not senseless,
You see hope where there was once only sorrow,
You become refreshed, made new
By the recognition of a love
Born of an innate purity
Made of something special, something mystical,
Something divine, something ancient and wise,
Something magical, something secret,
Something like God,

The universe can’t just be any old way;
The way of life is astoundingly demanding
In its exact requirements,
The big bang happened with utmost
Precision and perfection,
A perfection in fact
That can only be born of perfection,
A perfection that is a quality of an Intelligent Architect after all,
The universe continually insists, even begs
For a divine explanation,

For the sake of love’s confounding depth
God decided it better to extract good from evil,
Than to have no evil at all,

Existence is a peerless coquette
Inside a box that breaks everyone.
Coming back from brokenness
Is a good way to describe God…

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Oneness

one

Oneness

Your joy is my joy,
Your pain is my pain,
Your sun is my sun,
Your rain is my rain,

Your source is my source,
Your mutation, my mutation,
Your curse is my curse,
Your salvation, my salvation,

Your sky is my sky,
Your night is my night,
Your stars are my stars,
Your light is my light,

You tolerate my lapses,
I tolerate your lapses,
You dilate my synapses
I dilate your synapses,

Your goal is my goal
My goal is your goal,
Your soul is my soul,
My soul is your soul.

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Cruel

dis

Cruel

Remember the times we prayed for their divorce?
It was something easier said than done
Back then, even now, but more then,
And the times they asked us to take sides?
The nights they came close to killing
Each other?
Then, mutual silence enforced for awhile,
Except when it came to money,
The volcano would instantly erupt again,

I didn’t want anybody to ever have
To experience that on my watch,
My efforts and failures throughout my own life
Have always been tempered
With that being one of my primary fears
In the back of my mind,

No one’s born cruel.

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Somewhere

doth

Somewhere

A heart’s desperate wish
Made everything be,
Somewhere,

A bold, mystical kiss
Set every soul free,
Somewhere,

I came down from a mountain
Of god particle blues,
They built me a prison
They named after you,
And here we are now,
Floating aimless and true,
In an awful big rush to go…

Somewhere.

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Spin

spinw

Spin

Soldiers turned
Into lunatics,
All swept down
Beneath the crucifix
Lambs of GOD
Lined appropriately
On the pavements
Parasites
Digesting governments
Misfit ponies
One trick Presidents
Another hairs breadth trigger’s swept
Away
Just a stone’s throw
To a new beginning
Just an ass kick
From the olden days
Where ancient remedies cured
Post modern praise,
Just a dice role
To the Holy City
Just a few clicks
From Salvation Land
From the Anbar Province
Down to Vietnam
Like oxygen
Not threatening
One final breath
’Till the death knells ring
One holy ghost
From the hands of GOD
For the suffering
For the next of kin
In purple robes of love
Before the King of kings
From which all things come
To which all things go
And rise above
Par excellence
A tireless reacher’s reach,
A gossamer’s thread
To the home of souls
Just like the Son of Man
Just like everything comes and goes,
That’s just the way I spin.

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Struggling With English

open road

Struggling With English

My poems are not just for poets,
My poems are for the people.

I don’t encode a poems imagery
With differential equations
So that if you don’t know madness
You are lost,

It’s not that I don’t admire mysteries,
It’s that I don’t like to have to work for impact,

It’s not that cutting through unexplored jungle
With a machete is not rewarding,
It’s just that I prefer to head out on the open road,

It’s not that seeing a thousand reflections of myself
Is not interesting,
It’s just that I’m still trying to understand one,

It’s not that clever manipulations of language
Is any less a poem
(Perhaps more so)
It’s just that I prefer to write in American,
And let my brother and sister poets
Struggle with English.

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Chitra and Gupta

Hindu_hell

Chitra and Gupta

Awareness,
Just a perfume of power
Floats up
To the sacred window, eerily,
Yet so sweetly,
Infiltrating kingdoms in the guise
Of unruly flowers, red,
Extravagant, disarming,
A trojan horse within each bloom
A whim on a whimsy, a holy ghost,
A golden ticket
Out of Hell, (Both state and place);
An infinity pass,
Why would one denigrate oneself
In a deal with the Universe’s original grifter;
To go back? To defy?
A blossom,
A song whose melody
Intervenes and haunts
Throughout the salvationist fandango;
Sipping from the bottomless well,
Whose water transubstantiates into a miraculous wine,
A wondrous, preternatural operetta,
In the crystal, cool breeze and sweet forest fountain
As charms for their collective molecules,
Light is God,
Heat, warmth and temperature are God,
Molecules are God,
Atoms, the glue between atoms,
And the Chitra and Gupta raging in God,
All universes imaginable and unimaginable are God,
Without God
There is nothing,
A barren emptiness that doesn’t exist,
A suffocating, breathless vacuum,
A desperate scream that has no sound,
No distance,
No life, no force, no surrender,
Perpetually muted blackness,
Nothingness that can never be real
Because once observed to be nothing,
Is no longer nothing, but “not nothing”
That requires an observer who is “not nothing”
Necessitating the concept that there is never nothing,
Never was nothing, and never can be nothing,
All laws, principles and elegant equations
That exist in existence
Eventually boil down to one truth,
True love is no joke,
God is not nothing,
Oblivion an impossibility,
God is real.

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Hexagonal Dawn Moon Drop Sun

595597

Hexagonal Dawn Moon Drop Sun

If brains were looks
I’d be a manikin,
I’d fully comprehend how alone
Alone can be,
I’d bask
In etched gold walls
Warm beauty, like a prison,
Silenced, like a breath of air,
Wonderment,
A hard wired duty,
Delegating revelries,
I’d fly,

Moonward,
I’d be a honey bee
If looks were brains
In the hexagonal dawn moon drop sun,
For my eyes, the honey sea,
Drip the drop of thrice pineal,
Down the river’s history,
Through watersheds of mystery,
All the realms in gales of wonder,

My dark one, my sweet one,
My sky.

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The Womb of God

hans

The Womb of God

The gate to the light of the world
Is through woman,
And to woman we return

The womb of woman is everywhere –
The source of all craving,
The womb of woman is creation itself,
How strong the longing for sensate union,
Yet how transient,

The womb of woman
Flowers in the sensate heart of humankind
Bearing fruit upon fruit
Forever,
All existence – the process of labor
Filled with agony and splendor,
Every breath breathed, a proclamation,
Each seedling adrift in the wind – a description,
Every word spoken fecundated with this longing,
And so it is, and so it should be

But the womb of God is hidden, seedless
And nearly impossible to find,
Yet is innate in each soul
And the only lasting treasure.

The gate to the light of creation
Is through woman,
And to woman we return

Praise the fruit of woman!
Praise the flowering of life
So abundant in treasure!
Praise the longing
And the sheer intoxication of life,

Yet, praise the fire
Of the agony, of the withdrawal
From the realm of pain and pleasure,
Praise the black, happy night
Of detachment to the fructification of the gross,
Praise the sleepless ardor
Where the only light is the fire of self-destruction,
Praise the existence of death
As ultimate life
Where one is seduced by a sweet desperation
And a vehement passion for the divine.

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The Balance

01

The Balance

The world has two sides,
It’s a binary existence,
The binary makes the drumbeat, the rhythm,
The heartbeat,
From a distant ancient conga
Town square gala
Dance trance hootenanny cabaret,

The dark and the light,
The zero, the one,
The left side, the right side,
The moon and the sun,
The ida, the pingala,
The yin and the yang
The new and primeval,
Both random and planned,

The indubitable flip side,
Breathe in and breathe out,
The systolic, the diastolic,

And so it goes pulsing,
Night and day – night and day,

The balance depends on the counter balance
To exist, endlessly teetering on non-existence,
Inertia spouts a radiant plethora
Of infinite transfiguration,
Of which GOD is both sacred
And shorn
Beyond equilibrium’s urgent glass bead grok,
Singular,
Void of number, or any conceivable description,
Void of duality,
One heart, one NAME,
One GOD, one love,
Bud-a-bing, bud-a-boom, bud-a-bam.

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Slaughtered Lamb Sacrifice Charms

hh

Slaughtered Lamb Sacrifice Charms

The world always asks for more money,
More control, more beauty, more wisdom,
More sex, more tuna fish,
More of everything imaginable,

Nothing is enough,
Even if one were to consume
The entire universe,
One would immediately look for
Another universe to consume,

Sinful,
Paralyzed, forgotten,
Three steps from the petite verdot,
Crucified,
I am truly fearful of the Lord,

Fear of GOD
Is a gift of the Holy Spirit,
It’s not only my duty, but my reality,

Fearful of his creativity,
Fearful of his ability to designate eternal hell,

But what do I get for this fear of the Almighty?
For this wonderful virtue?

Like Cain,
I’ve become an abomination,
Marked, I have become the mark,
To insure the world treats me with disdain,

Rejecting my holy love offering of grain,
In deference to
My soft shoe shuffler brother
And his slaughtered lamb sacrifice charms.

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Ancestors

jesus

Ancestors

I made love to you platonically,
You asked your ancestors about my question
A serious woman contacted me,
Told me there’s no freedom which is free
Asking my intention and astrology
Smart and sweet like a spunky vinaigrette
Like asian women, secretly,
My heart is on a life long mission,
To cross the cross that crosses me.

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Guile

tree

Guile

Tell me the truth
Without white lying
The consummate truth
Don’t leave out the fun dirty details,
Don’t leave out the parts
You think might hurt me
Or you,

I’ll have the precious,
Please hold the guile,

A bitch to a bastard
As to inaccurate dalliance
I’d assign a BEWARE,

If it doesn’t get worse I don’t mind
Dying,
I don’t even know if my “I”
Will keep flying,
And can’t help but care,

When I’ve served all my purpose
With nothing to be,

For now in the paints
Of a beautiful tree.

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Sacrosanct

Shakti

Sacrosanct

I’d probably be a Marxist,
Except I have a proclivity
To cherish the magnanimity
Of the one true God,

Perhaps an atheist,
Except there is too much
We don’t know,
And I prefer ancient, cumulative wisdom
To modern day, flash in the pan “know it all ism”,

Or maybe an anti theist,
Except religion is a means to an end,
Or a beginning,
And is only a tool to get there,

Just as science is only a tool
To achieve something, some knowledge,
Or some modicum of imagined control,

Bad science can lead to very bad things,
And so can bad religion,
But why throw the baby out with the bath water?
Take the good of each, merge them,
And something astounding unfolds in balance,

Most everyone agrees;
God’s mercy is bountiful…

It’s his justice
We all have a problem with,
And are reluctant to acknowledge,

We’re all given tickets
To traverse the great ocean of fire,
And the ticket is called our life,

Only infinite awareness in it’s many garbs,
And the word made flesh, made manifest,
Through the great spirit that imbues all things
Sacrosanct.

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At A Wine Bash To The Strawberry Sunrise

ss

At A Wine Bash To The Strawberry Sunrise

“You’re delusional,”
She said with disdain,

“Of course I am”, he replied,
“I can’t afford not to be,

If I wasn’t,
We’d only have cold, empty nothings,
And how would that be for the kids?

It would be like fasting on Thanksgiving,
Or unacknowledged, joyless Christmases,

No one wants to live in that world,

Flowers wouldn’t exist,
They’d be booted out of the transcendental garden
For the sin of being so alluring,
Terminated from the cold spectrum,
Expelled, sent on down the road, east of Eden,
In another lifetime, in another vision,
In another realm,

I’m delusional with good reason,
I’m delusional because of the bafflements of love,
And all its messy, ego-entwined syncopations,

Otherwise,
We’d disqualify the drunken sunrise
For being so real,
For being so adamant,
For being so redemptive,
For being so cleansing,
And for being so sacred”…

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I Hear America Crying

lady

I Hear America Crying

It’s midnight,
The trees are whispering
The holy names of God,
Whispering secrets beyond the scope
Of the rational mind,
The architecture of reality
Is forever rhythmically thrusting
In secret, reverent copulation,
Preparing for your Yahweh love,

In the realm where light is innate,
Stars, suns and multiiverses
No longer exist,
The light of Creation no longer matters,
The One God,
Who rules all other Gods,
Including the plant deva Monarchs
And the Kuber Kings with their love battalions
Marching,
Plays it cool,
While fiery angels storm esteemed dominions,
Fighting for your Yahweh love,

From the demon worlds, and below
And in the charred remains
Of a weary, pathological planet,
The lieutenants down in the mines
Are dabbling away,
Inventing pharmacological bliss
No one knows the names of,
With prized and proven techniques to control,
Subjugate and destroy the human soul,
They have their noses to the grindstone,
As we wonder, whistle and watch,
And inquire as to “when”

A deluge of variegated sweetness,
Christmassy, tinsel toned in red and green,
Like a star lit Los Angeles pre dawn brilliance,
With faux radiance and clinical charm,
They chassé down Rodeo Drive
Arm and arm with Mickey Finn,
Ass high, spandex miniskirts,
Shadow lined fishnet stockings, perfect,
Spiked Aldo high heeled pumps,
Maryjane straps and cosmic bling,
With visions of sugarplums, Gucci and Armani,
Wading through the raspberry garden,
Oblivious to the thorns,
Searching for your Yahweh love,

The church bell chimes midnight
From the lofty towers of democracy weeping,
A family of four in the freezing rain,
Walled in concrete, walled in neglect,
Walled in by hearts of stone,
By the gray of everything,
Entombed by endless grayness,
With only a sheet of cardboard
To shield them from it all,
Down by the parking garage
Where they’ve been refused admittance,
Could we but lift the lead gray veil,
Could we but open up the clouds
With arms to the sky,
Could we but reconstitute the bright yellow sun,
As they huddle, silently
In the rain drenched grayness,
Dreaming of your Yahweh love…

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The Language Of Freedom

jh

The Language Of Freedom

A poem can be a painting, a dream,
A disaster, a dynasty,
A sculpture, a scripture,
A masterpiece, an epic,
A ditty, a dirge, a dirigible,

A casual display of reverent, respectful beauty,
A holy ghost, a personification, a treatise,
A castigation, a calamity, a notice,
A silence, a song,
A realization, a meditation, an atom, a galaxy,
A gala,
A wine shop, a rustling wind, a litany,
A lambasting, a confessional, a prayer,
A protest,

Or nothing at all,

It’s the only form of art
One can make to be anything,And that’s why people continue to write them,

But in the end
A poem is just another name for hope,
In another language called freedom.

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Some Of The Super Powers Granted Through God’s Light

dupdrt

Some Of The Super Powers Granted
Through God’s Light

Some of the super powers granted through
God’s light are,

The ability to recognize and take responsibility for,

One’s own arrogance,
One’s own wrong assumptions,
One’s own lust,
One’s own fickle desires,
In addition to
One’s steadfast flirtation with
The transient trinkets
Of the mundane realm,

As well as
Recognizing in others,

Their true beauty
Their innate divinity,
Their fortitude,
How they’ve sacrificed,
How they’ve loved,
Reminding ourselves of any good
They have done,

And finally,
To remember the good things
We ourselves have done,
In the forgiveness of our oppressors,
In the love of our enemies,
In the standing up
For those who can’t stand up for themselves,
And in the serving of the Jesus
That dwells within each other,

We are the salt of the earth,
When salt loses its flavor,
It’s trampled under foot,

Everyone is suffering,
And in great need
Of the super hero miracle master manifesting
From the fountain of love inside us all.

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To The Lonesome One, Collect

Lord Shiva

To The Lonesome One, Collect

The gravy train’s a trip to nowhere,
But the ride is tight,
Don’t get too close to that starship, Romeo,
It’s made of blazing light,
Success is just a whole lot of failure
All gussied up and ready to grind
An opulence in moonbeams
Streaming through the quantum mind,
Though adaptation’s hard,
Hard climb,
Defined in rungs of involute salvation,
Past the sun of dust, of nothingness
Intrinsically bound,
In praise that transcends
Every seed that ever wept,
Hope,
So illumination might shine through everything,
Shining right through us,
Ever more brilliantly, prismatically,
An anti-dimensional multiverse
Where hopes and dreams are forever refined,

How long can optimistic illusion be perpetuated
And proselytized as wine?
Comprehending about a tenth of nothing?
In underestimating our humanness,
We underestimate God,
Denying the jewel studded awareness
We’ve been crowned with,
It’s at the tantric mantric epicenter
Or like your starlit stardust lush of hair,
Or in the brilliant madness they call love
It’s holy ghosted like a perfect treasure
Fitting like a painful blissful perfect glove,

How is it
We do not believe
We have personal access
To the lonesome one,
Collect?

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The Great American Hallucination

hal

The Great American Hallucination

We are prisoners of the Great American Hallucination –
The drug of media and commercialism
Has aborted human dignity while still in the womb!
The drug of success and competition
Has turned our hearts to stone,
The drug of having more and more
Has made us delirious with the tincture of attainment
So that power – the need to rule over others
Has become more important than life,

The American hallucination
Has blinded us to love,
The American hallucination has pulled an electronic veil
Over the beauteous face of ecstasy and paradise,
The American hallucination wants us to believe
That having more is the goal,
I know,
I mainline the American hallucination every day
Each time I turn on another hallucination box,
Each time I walk down the street
The hallucination police are watching me,

“Are you hallucinating quite well today sir?”,
They might ask me.
“Oh yes! Today’s hallucination
Is jolting me right up the ass quite nicely, thank you,”
I might reply.
And they’ll walk away, contented,
Without giving me an anti- hallucination summons,

Sometimes I need a strong dose of something
To knock back these hallucinations,
To know that love goes well beyond
Making sure our children are hallucinating properly,
Or being obedient consumers
Serving their corporate masters,
That true ecstasy and divine awareness are what we were born for,
That paradise and eternal life exist!
And that if there ain’t a God
(which I do believe there is)
And we are simply random products
Of arbitrary cosmic protoplasm,
Sprinkled upon the ceaseless reverberations of Eternity
Manifesting,
How beautiful and worthwhile
Even the chance of this
Is…

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Impeccable

imp

Impeccable

All other roads are dead ends
And a waste of time and effort,
The cul-de-sacs of the material realm
Loop us around and around, again and again,
In repetition of the same futility,
And the streets are all one way,

I look to traverse the freeway
That leads to the wedding feast,
Where perpetual celebration is the order of this day
Of marriage,
And we are intoxicated with the divine wine of perpetuity,

Hold fast to the pierced feet of Jesus, the Savior,
For his is the most advanced galactic positioning system
In the cosmos,
As his guidance is sure,
And his aim –
Impeccable,

Everything is perfect,

We are energy!

Jumping, whipping wires
Of snaking, exploding consciousness,
Spines, nerves and brains,
We can’t stop it,
We can’t start it,
It just runs though us
Like a wild, invincible river of light,

Gushing beyond
The fictive boulders of presumed reality,
Like an endless barrage,
Like nuclear fission fusing, coiled,
Rocking, flaring, brimming,
Screaming,
Kundalini rising immortal one,

Sheer life!

Yet, if today we were to know
Even a scintilla of a shadow of GOD’s silence,
We’d be crushed into nothingness
By love.

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Matters Concerning Flowers

th2

Matters Concerning Flowers

Think I better launch into the wondrous –
Self re-administrate the fundamentalist survival codex
Sky,
Make sure everything is succinctly written
And in a cogent manner,
Whisper love replacement therapy
In hope’s most tolerant ear,
Have a few more déjà vu’s before we hit the freeway
Peer beyond the blue pineal core,
As if we had a voice in matters concerning flowers
Those glistening panoramic waltzing sunshine majesties,
Sourcing beauty’s bounteous epicentral ardor,
If you need to call it art,
The wild fiery sapphire vineyard star farm fountain redeemer,
Rocketing, quaking, unbinding,
Corona white arc dawn unbridled violet,
Ardent focused anguished ancient endless depth,
Manic cortège inebriate cosmic dancing destined believers,
Brilliant unrelenting fervor consummate adoration,

Drama, splendor,
Ecstasy…

Or whatever it takes
To magnify the wine…

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Happy Trails

tarot_cards

Happy Trails

I found your secret place
That said, “He who enters,
Relinquish all hope,”

So I’m rolling the dice,
I’m guessing,
I’m believing,
I’m envisioning,
I’m trying to make the illusion of reality
Pertinent, real,

I’m trying to change creation’s mind,

Desiring clarity,
I resorted to flipping a coin,

Should I continue with my hopes,
Dreams and resurrections – Heads,
Or should I respect your expressed wishes
And not intrude on your life,
And quit trying to pursue you
In hopes that you’ll change your mind  – Tails,

It was a penny,
I prayed,

To Jesus, Mary and Meher Baba
For guidance, from the deeps of my heart;
Also flipped,

I shook it up in my cupped, clasped palms
As it rattled around decoding my lines,

I prayed more,

May today ever be your reward
And not your disappointment,
As today I say with determination, conviction,
And quite a bit more understanding:

Happy trails,

Until we meet again…

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Open Vestiture Blues

wterme_PerfectlyClear

Open Vestiture Blues

I was never one
For opening my shirt up
A little, so women
Can get a brief glimpse
Of my harry, animal chest.
Too modest, or something like that,
But I genuinely appreciate it
When a woman reveals her sexuality to me,
Which is always,

So today I did it because
I’m a little horny anyway,
And because I wondered
If it would have any affect
On a woman, just for my own curiosity,
Well something was affecting them,
I think when a woman looks at a man,
In order to save time
Because she’s very efficient,
She sees an amalgam of pluses and minuses, instantly,
To determine whether or not
He is compatible material;
Whether or not he’s capable
Of being worthy of some precious maya,
Whether or not his spiral
Will spiral inside them,
And this registers to her
On a subconscious level,
This may or may not
Register in her consciousness as “attraction”,
Depending on her own exact situation
As regards just about everything,

Today started with a big plus;
With my somewhat open collared chest –
But when they saw my baggy pants
From losing so much weight,
They dropped me,
Next?

But, the open collar
With that manly hair
And those plastic rosary beads?
Now what woman could resist that?

As he sashes down the mall kingdom
Beyond Lord & Taylors and GNC,
“I’m open for business!”
Please sign up for me, my companion,
I long to be your most devoted ally,
I knew you
Or will know you,
I recognize you,

Don’t you recognize me?
We have something of each other’s
We need to exchange
If not in this lifetime,
Then in some other realm
Unbeknownst to us,
I vote now!
I’m just trying to figure out
A successful way to meet you,
Without scaring you,
When I walked through the Mall
Today, I couldn’t believe it,
The women seemed really interested,
I haven’t been looked at like that
In a long time,
I mean from all the way
Across the Mall,
Like I was some kind of a Casanova, or something,
I’m not lying,
But I just walked straight through it all,
Since I’ve lost this weight
It’s a whole new world,

I think that through spiritual lovemaking
I’ve acquired a few of your powers,
Like people being able to see how beautiful you are;
People being able to love you right away,
I put you way up on a pedestal,
Because I truly believe you belong there,
I know there must be lots of reasons
Why you need to say “no” to me,

I have Catholicism imprinted on my soul,
An ancient tattoo of Holy wine,
I can’t look at a woman, well,
Let’s just say
That any possible thoughts of courting a woman
And “marriage” are irretrievably intertwined,
And this
Unfortunately scares most woman away these days,
Too much too soon,
And I become my own
Worst enemy,
Only you know,
But you can’t tell me,
Or think you’ve already told me enough,
If your “no” is still law
Or if laws can ever change…

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Ms. Mystery

rio-de-janeiro-carnival-latest

Ms. Mystery

I know you dissolve
Into particles
Whenever there’s a reckoning,
And you compete with the shadow light
In the beguilement of smoke,

I’m aware you’ve arranged
Your particles
To induce beauty,
And that they race with your mystery,
In the revelation
Of seamed patchworks of dark,

I’ve been told that you not only reject,
But punish love,
As retaliation for unforgivable harm,

And that the moon spins wildly
Like fiery electrons
In elliptical conjunctions around your heart,

And that one look in your eyes
Turns men
Into stones that weep blood,

And I’ve been contemplative
As regards the penitentiaries of hope
Condensing on your silken white salt skin burning
Sweet incense to the stars.

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Brahmaloka

800px-Vishnu_Vishvarupa

Brahmaloka

Thousand of years pass on earth
For twenty minutes in Heaven,
Or conversely,
10 years absorbed in another dimension
Can be a mere ten minutes on earth,

How can we comprehend these states
Programmed as we are
Into reality as phenomenological consciousness,
Using around ten percent of our brains capacity,
And .00001 percent of the universe’s,
Endlessly focusing on survival,
Pleasure and reproduction?

That’s why abstinence
Is as important as fulfillment,

That’s why forty days of sustained renunciation
For a human,
Breaks any habit.

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The Prime Mover

cosmos

The Prime Mover

There is but one God, truth is his name,
Creative is his personality, immortal his form,
Says the Prime Mover,
Yet monotheism was born
First from Zoroastrianism, then Aristotle, Judaism, Christianity,
Islam, Sikhism, Meher Baba, and on and on.
Without monotheism we would still be worshipping the wind and calves forged in gold,
We would not recognize the Creator as One God.

Religion is merely a tool to peel back the veils of the Beloved.
We cannot go religionless without first knowing what religion truly is,
Experiencing its depth,

We can’t be content with mere intellectual knowledge
By focusing on the failures and shortcomings of others,
We must burn in the fundamental fire of religion
Before we can legitimately break free of it,

We perpetually point out all of religion’s failures
And somehow ignore all the successes enacted daily before our eyes.
Religion is the warp and woof of our current civilization,
However flawed
And does much more good
Than it does harm,
The things it’s detractors would like to condemn it for,

In our current culture,
We seem to give more respect to politics and government
Prestige, wealth and power
Than the tools that offer eternal life,

Love the transient, hate the everlasting,

Before we can ever live lawlessly
And at the same time win God’s acceptance,
We must first fathom the importance of true obedience,
And how living in true obedience opens the doorway to true humility,
And how true humility
Is the conqueror of true love,

So I sold my spiritual clothing
And am no longer a publicized Holy Man,

Now just a regular guy
I’ve sacrificed some pretense
In order to observe you closely,

Now that I no longer practice Yoga
And am more subject to innate impulses
My body has begun to ache
And my age is catching up with me,

Now that I’ve given up my powers
Fate appears crouched and ready to strike,

Now that I’ve done these things,
I have received one simple, but valuable reward:
I have come to understand that love
Is not necessarily a great work,
But that it’s vastness can be found in little things
From moment to moment each day,
That love doesn’t necessarily need power
In order to be offered,
That I don’t necessarily have to be a great man
To give a great thing,

Hey Romeo!

The greatest men and women
Often don’t appear so at all,
But they partake of the real treasure of my love.

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Kiss

kiss2

Kiss

Everybody stays real calm
Everybody floats along
Everybody watches words
Everybody bangs the gong

Everybody wants the juice
Everybody takes a sip
Everybody ties the noose
Everybody clacks the click

Everybody wants it cool
Everybody has the gift
Everybody plays the fool
Everybody cracks the rift

Everybody talks the game
Everybody has a plan
Everybody stakes the claim
Everybody sells the brand

Everybody pulls it out
Everybody hates the sin
Everybody casts the doubt
Everybody holds it in

Everybody wants the job
Everybody likes the treat
Everybody pays the price
Everybody makes it sweet

Everybody cracks the whip
Everybody signs the deal
Everybody takes the hit
Everybody rips the seal

Everybody wonders why
Everybody hacks the grid
Everybody links the mind
Everybody listens in

Everybody says they’re there
Everybody has to pry
Everybody blows a kiss
Everybody says good-bye.