In The Box Is Blind Hell

In The Box Is Blind Hell

In the box is blind hell

A swirling maelstrom of non-magnitudes

Voices pining for emptiness profound as black space

And trying to fill it with matter fashioned from the junk

Of someone else's mind

 

I stand outside the box

Repelled like a magnetic polar opposite to

What I see going on inside

Looking at the emptiness around the box

And refusing to build

A master surveying

His unfulfilled domain

Cataloging all his tools once again

Oiling the moving parts

Admiring how they rest in their pouches

The box must be incorporated into the scheme

Can’t be left out

Must be left space in the basement

Museum lit in a small white pool of light

As the thing that pointed the way

And provided the plans

To build the foundation

It’s mirror image opposite

 

A Warmth To Just Keep Going

A Warmth To Just Keep Going

There’s no such thing as destitution

When a fire burns in your heart

All the chuckling geese

Hissing with mad lolling tongues

Pink and slender as stilettos

They can all take a back seat

In a jumbo jet

Bound for the moon

Can’t be poor when the riches of heaven

Are stored in your heart

Just don’t up one day and try

To use them for trade

Most establishments don’t recognize

This currency

Oh, can’t be poor

On an empty stomach and slouched mind

Not when the fire burns

Because the fire does not slouch

And it fills the stomach

With tongues of licking peace

Feed it feed it feed the flames

Tenderly

Because they don’t have much to consume

This meager bird meal I brought back

Won’t last long

I must add fuel to the fire

I can’t let it die

The ground can turn wet

And downright hostile to flame

Can’t let that happen

Find fuel for the fire

Gather all things I can find with latent heat

And add and release

Until bonfire parties

Toasted on the stars

Being careful not to cause an explosion

On Suffering

On Suffering

Our problem and our psychosis is that we don’t suffer. For thousands and thousands of years humans have never had to worry about suffering. It was always present, free and available in sufficient quantities for everyone. It tempered the soul. It was the land we walked and the air we breathed. It was the launch pad of consciousness. The germinator of religion. The suffering we felt at the necessity of robbing an equal creature/an equal soul of life to sustain our own. This terrible selfishness. This Thou Shalt Not Kill. This commandment broken again and again, hands wet with blood, arms tired with brutal pummeling. Don’t be hoodwinked by your culture. During this time, this slow explosion of mind and matter, that would eventually sweep the planet – we did not see ourselves as any different from the life around us. Killing our brothers and sisters and eating their flesh – first was born ritual to grapple with the suffering this caused, this terrible guilt. The original sin. Who were we to decide life and death – to mete punishment first with our hands and then with the tools we made with our minds?

The suffering of the struggle to survive, the suffering of losing loved ones to the brutality of defense, accident, disease, predation…the suffering of how short the time was. Humanity has done its utmost to divorce itself from suffering and has largely succeeded in the more “developed” places. So minds become stunted. Hearts atrophied without the air of suffering to breathe. And when we do have the opportunity to suffer – to steep our souls in the cauldron of fire which made us – the fiery vessel of God – it is too bright, too warm and cruel for our distended souls, our shriveled hearts – so we turn away – we deal in repression/psychosis/depression – we stuff ourselves with Words, pad our minds with empty concepts – God/Faith/Nihilism/Fate/Greed/Gluttony/Alcohol/Drugs/Hatred/Jealousy/Anxiety/Depression/Insomnia…all that we supposedly abhor – we become – because we do not know how to suffer. Of course – who would choose to suffer? If given the choice – who would mantle themselves with this thorough garment of pain? So we sequester ourselves in our safe rooms of empty days and the collection of material and the easy subjugation of our brothers and sisters – we eat now without suffering – we eat empty promises and empty calories – and belch into the sky our stink at having been cooped up in our safe rooms without the benefit of the cleansing and purifying bath of suffering. We desperately need to suffer and each and every one of us knows this, each of us carries a seed planted deep within our consciousness…but not enough bloom…the seeds lie dormant, encased, ungerminated – spreading their invisible radiation to suffuse all aspects of life with the poison of non-being, non-belief…but – this will be taken care of – collectively. Without knowing it – we will manufacture our suffering – engineered in the dark places, unknown to us but it’s course as sure as an arrow, to burst forth in a glorious and hideous flood of suffering the likes of which will make WWII pale in comparison….to bring us back to our roots, to let us breathe good air and know ourselves.  So the question is – will enough people tend lovingly to this seed, give it the water of their tears and the nutrients of their active engagement with the world as it truly is – a construct of spirit and matter – the natural expression of which is suffering – to awaken the seed and have it grow and bear its fruit…and this fruit is called Human with a capital ‘H’, whole and enlightened consciousness, unfractured, selfless and paradoxically without suffering because the long journey we are all asked to make, simply by being born, has been trodden. The only way out is through.

Dream Real Dream

Dream real dream real dream real real dream dream reality dream reality dream reality reality of dream

This place truly is a mixture of sleep and wake, dream and reality.

What is reality? The place outside dream.

What is dream? The place outside reality.

For as long as humans have been, this has been the case – we have been a mixture of dream and reality – and quite honestly – even our greatest intellects have been ill-equipped to explain what either dream or reality is. This can only be intuited. The poets and the wise intuit – they are the closest to understanding. The difference can be known but never explained. Dream and reality make up a living animal of interconnected parts. Dissection merely creates intellectual curiosities.

The inner becomes the outer and the outer inner. Black is only truly black next to white. White is only truly white next to black. A conjunction of opposites brings the truth.

I don’t think we are the only ones either. This applies to all matter across all time. Think of the universe as a scattering of energy. What we call “matter” is imprinted onto this energy. I am an imprint of a mysterious energy…not mysterious because it is in itself mysterious but because I can not comprehend it. Yet. It can be observed that the Universe is growing toward consciousness. It is naturally tending towards consciousness, higher and higher levels of consciousness – like a plant turning toward the light of the sun and unfurling its broad leaves to capture the energy, ever evolving to be more receptive to the light. How blessed is the human? The apex of universal consciousness as far as we know and as far as gross matter is concerned (who knows what intelligence drives the sun?). In a universe of vanishingly small amounts of matter, how blessed is it to be a blade of grass? The dreams of grass are likely very simple yet because of this very powerful.

The human dream can be incredibly complex and because of this incredibly subtle. This construct – where we are – and we are undeniably somewhere – is a mixture of dream and reality. I recall an event which happened three hours ago and it feels no different than recalling a dream. I dream I am falling and my stomach drops out and I scream. The inner is outer and outer inner. Humans have always made their dreams live. From three-headed beasts that guard the Underworld to planes that propel us through the sky. And I ask – who were the first fliers? Shamans – their thought forms dark streaking across the tundra sky. Our dreams are reality. It is a fact that if enough people share the same dream it will be birthed into reality.