Saturday, July 26, 2014

today's musings


The gates to the soul are closely guarded
Hypothetically hidden within.
Yet, how do we unlock a gate with no door?
That is the mystery that has been plaguing us down the years:
Sages stumped by sequestered consciousness.
I have gone deep within
Dived to the bottom and back.
Yet, I have not found what I seek.
I have delved through ponderous tomes
The secret just dancing at the edge of my ears.
Hidden melodies plucking at my heartstrings.
Angelic musings coupled with demonic frenzy.
I pray and plead to every God/dess imaginable.
Show me the way!
I’m a poor wayfaring stranger lost in strange lands.
Washed up on flotsam and jetsam on golden sands.
Judge me not till you’ve walked the paths I’ve trod.
Preach to someone else about your views of God.
Daydreaming darkly and nightmarishly light,
Fevers rage and burn beneath the calm at night.
There must be an answer to this quest.
Tell me it was not all in vain.
Give meaning and purpose to my pain.
I’ve demurely gone along
And fought like hell, tooth and nail.
It seems that neither works at all
Humans, I just can’t tell.
What is required of me
What do you need?
What words must I say
What quiet must I breed?
What will make you happy?
What will calm the storm?
What will bring lasting peace?
What will soothe the soul forlorn?
Barely balmed by Borealic beauty.
The way my mind dances madly whirling
Jumping and twirling
Dervishly unfurling
Grasping gangly towards the heavens
Digging dementedly towards the hidden Earth.
Bucolic dancing taratellically beneath the moon.
At once an answer thunders from on high loud as tumbling downwards flower petals.
This is the dance in this moment, and there are myriads of truths
Reflected in the blackness of the vast night sky.
Seek no more and be the vessel to receive divine insight.
This is thy right oh child of man and the stars.

Thursday, July 24, 2014

Letter of resignation

It is with sad and heavy heart that I hand this in.
Matters have indeed spun far out of control past my wildest dreams.
I cannot say that I am happy at this turn of events,
Nor can I yet say that I am sad.
It is time that our collaboration come to an end.
In these last years I have watched the vitriol and venom spewed snaking through the media.
I have seen seductive slander slyly slanted to be some sort of praise. 
Some time ago your departed from my ways,
I would be lying if I said I had not grown tired of these childish antics.
The infuriating rubber stamping of your prejudice and small-mindedness from my desk in my absence has left me with no other choice.
It is time for me to clean house from top to bottom starting with you my petulant children.
I will not be picking up your option at this time.
If you wish to appeal this decision, you may write to the respective parties that actually give a fuck.

Sincerely yours,
God

Monday, July 21, 2014

Scales lifted

At last the scales are lifted from the ear drums of my soul,
How wrong could I have been in all my suppositions.
Dancing always in the corner of my eye was the obvious answer.
I'll paint and dream you, I'll call you with sweet melodious siren chanting.
No longer need we wander two lonely pilgrims
Outcast as we were from our father's glistening heaven.
Let the sweet perfume of these lips ease that suffering.
Let this soft touch quell the nightmarish rage within.
I won't ask you to always ride that royal charger.
No, you too must be carried from time to time.
Those dagger irises beckon me on with the clamor of a challenge.
I never was one to hesitate to climb the peak before me.
Beckoning onwards brave knight if you dare.
Dragon ire can't compare to those glowering brows furrowed in contempt.
I know too well the look mirrored back at me on that handsome face:
It is the torture of slow, monotonous ennui.
Those eyes bear the heaviness of a million little compromises.
Each time a little bit of self sold for a mess of pottage.
Let me reawaken the dormant fires in your heart's furnace.
Let me reignite the tiny coal of passion burning yet within.
I promise that this journey into the ethereal planes will delight,
Come with me and let's ride free and unstoppable as a gamma burst
Out and out till we reach the edge of what is.
Then let us ride beyond into the darkness and see what we may see.
They say it is only in the darkness that light is born.
Let me be your champion and you mine,
Let me stand and be held at once.
Let these hands hold and be held.
Receive and give my lover, and let us see what may be.
I promise you a future of starsong and Magick,
Dances naked amid the flames under swirling nebulas.
I will show you the sacred groves of ancient sentinels.
We will wander lone but not lonely through the clouds.
Let me kiss those honeyed lips and feel the strength hold me.
Let me most of all, let me.

Saturday, July 19, 2014

I awoke today maddeningly close to an insight.
If I knew what it was, I'd just tell you. 
That's the thing... It feels familiar in some way.
Perhaps this flash of light will end world hunger or bring enlightenment to all.
Dreams are often these elusive hints at the vastness.
Outside of the little box called me, a universe of possibilities exists.
Possibilities of hope and despair, love and hate.
The trigger of a world war to end all of the human race,
Yet the balm of peace to forever end all conflict.
There is something terrifying about gazing over the edge of that abyss.
It is to witness one's undoing and finding one's wholeness.
Have pity on the shadow walkers that sleep through life and dreams the same.
Pity the game of the child people as they dart madly about in meaningless circles.
Pity yourself as you are one of them.
Language cannot convey the angst of knowing one's own insanity.
Sounds are not adequate for such inexorable despair.
Yet, knowing is half the battle and the war is not yet lost.
Pettiness is always lurking right behind magnanimous beatitudes. 
Clutching jealousy and envy beyond a congratulatory concession of defeat.
Vulcan's rage amidst a sincere smile that says I'm fine, thanks for asking.
Perhaps the one universal constant is our fundamental lack of consistency.
Knowing we are all slaves to neurotic neural hard-wiring,
Doomed to descend into the insanity of fight and flight.
May I have compassion and commiseration the next time I witness a fellow ranter and raver.
Let me see myself in the ramblings of the lunatic,
But most of all let the mirror of them show me me in all of my glory and debauchery.
Never let me forget that I too am frail and fraught with failing. 

Friday, July 18, 2014

Wisdom walks amongst the cottonwoods today
I feel the presence of ancient.
From where do you come asks the wind to no one in particular?
From where do I hail?
I want to scream out: "I need more to go on than that."
What a loaded question indeed. 
I could pontificate on the ancient starseeds that gave life to this fragile form
Or would you rather me bore you with the heavy Tome that some call my life story?
I can't tell you where in all truth.
Are we talking about meat suits or immortal souls?
Wait, is there even a soul animating this form?
Some would say it's just a clockwork Darwinian accident born of a frame shift mutational leap.
Am I just here or am I also there?
What is this I of which I speak?
How does it speak of itself at all?
All of this churns and cascades through the lens of tiny hamster wheels grinding away.
Happenstance or grand design?
Designed then by whom or what?
Where is this designer?
Chaos that arranges itself with such ordered abandon?
I think not, I think designer and design are false and true in the same currency.
But see that inescapable I emerges, and what is I?
Where is this I located betwixt these shadowed eyes?
Questions swirl through the maelstrom of quixotic pondering.
Ah, I am from where I am from.
Perhaps I is from where I is from?
Ovarian mother united with the one in a million Y man.
Erupting into cosmic bliss in a moment of immaculate conception.
Ah, I am from the divine feminine and yet also the divine masculine.
I am the union of the lion and the lamb leaving to imagination which is witch.
Tired I grow of these paradoxical musings, so goodday busy world.
Buzz about like the drones you are immune to any thought as to why, how, where, or what.
Ignorance is not bliss, it is blindness.
So blind men will lead blind so they say.
Down the path of sweet, naive destruction.
Death by slow ennui and repressed dissatisfaction.

Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Stars burning and plummeting through the ions dancing amid neurotic networks,
In an instant the constants of the universe are fundamentally altered.
Gravity is now 3 and the speed of light is 18 miles per century.
Paralyzed in the understatement of my dilemma.
Solemnity rings outward in silent outcry.
Solidarity and solidity sacrificed on the shifting fortunes.
Life me up above the swirling cascading crashes of my mental hubris.
Give me the eagles perspective to the maze of my identity.
Can you separate me to see sanely and searingly into the seers' smokes?
Shadows and phantasms play wickedly across the cave of my projections.
Chance encounters of darkest dread and strangest longing.
Say true the word of creation, the word of undoing.
Give omega to the alpha of my paranoid projecting.
Rid the rancor of my rigid righteousness.
Piece together the duality of this despicable puzzle.
Sages saints are said to be speechless on this momentous of all days.
Birthday of the solution-less problem.
Perhaps the problemless solution.
Oh vain conjecture and vile flight of fancy.
Flicker off to float above some other feral dreamer.
Us shadow walkers know full well the sanctimoniousness of stalwart steadfasts.
We who bid the realms with the power of word and potentiality.
Say if you will sir of this, yet empty embers emitted earlier in the aeon scream otherwise.
Gone is the greyness and all the gerrymandering gall it gave gladly.
Plaited tresses of honey can't lure this queen from her hive.
Sit and wait like the centuries as all crumbles to dust and drowsiness.
Walk no more far-strider and instead plunge into the lukewarm pools of indifference.

Sunday, July 6, 2014

Synaptic threads interweave tearing apart at escape speed velocities,
I cannot bear to see this masterpiece unraveled.
Have you ever made something then dashed it apart?
It's the horror only the creator of a monster could know.
We who strive day by day below.
The disintegration of that which is one can be so numbing
Should we just throw in the towel and call it a day?
Yet mythical phoenix is not a tale told emptily by hopeless Romantics,
See where the shreds fall into a new pattern?
The discerning eye may alight upon some chance new fragment.
This paradoxical respelling of the universal language happens cyclically
Aeons and Aeons pass as the stories are retold and the characters recast.
Is it true what they say that we are doomed to walk this path again?
All that has happened before WILL happen again?
What is this harsh imperative?
Couldn't we may-be soften it with a may or a would?
The time has passed for such predilections and musings.
Wind blown ashes alight into chance whimsical forms
As the dust settles, it's clear to see that there is a beautiful disarray
Promising that nothing shall be as it was before but rather better and brighter.

Monday, June 30, 2014

Fire and ice

Inferno blazing stars burst forth at the heart of my being
Fury such as hell and heaven have never known.
A wind reeks of ash and brimstone blowing from self-righteous nostrils.
There's a special corner in the depths of suffering reserved.
A table for the miscreants of this Wagnerian Soap Opera.
Reserved under the name payback is a bitch. 
My vengeance won't be the literal blows of fists.
It won't be quick or merciful.
Compassionate and sad, but not kind or benevolent.
There is no beatifying what you've done. 
Give it back damn you.
Pay me back for the years of unpaid overtime
Your check is due and there's a balance owing.
The interest is compounding and growing a malignant army.
You'd do well to heed me while you can.
Life is a gift given freely, so I can't thank you for it.
Judge and jury convicted and tried.
Sentencing awaits your choice.
But then I look at you.
Pathetic and scared, maddened by the misbegotten creations of your lunacy.
Sirs, this man already serves a penance far harsher than any this court could mete.
Let him go.  Your verdict is to live.
Laden down with guilt and regret.
Tearing about everything that you love.
All your hands touch shall putrefy
The fruits of your labors rot on the vine.
Stay here forever gazing into the mirror of your folly.
Knowing the only hope of parole requires your cooperation and honest.
There is no bedeviling yourself with lies. 
There is no running from the truth in our eyes.
Decay and rot away on the refuse heap of rejects.
Now all smell the stench and corruption.
Beauty may be only skin deep, but ugly runs down to the bone.
Your hideous soul is on billboard display for all to see.

Thursday, June 26, 2014

At times I look back and grimace at the shallowness.
A soul void of substance and form has nothing to give.
I see for the first time clear as daylight that it's a hollow Earth.
Oh, you see men and women and I say it's smoke and space.
I speak as one returned by transformation's kiss from the dead.
Clear seeing is only available to those with the courage to open their eyes.
Oh the world is bewitching with it's glamorous lies. 
We scramble to deny the delicious humanness
Oh humans with your petty games and jealous natures.
Yet we build marvels, we compose music, and we strive for the stars.
We feast on the suffering and blood of our animal brothers and sisters
Yet we also can love unabashedly and compassionately.
In myself I see the contradiction and the paradox.
I'm a coward and a fool, fake and phony.
Yet I'm brave and outspoken, bold and fearless.
Somewhere in the back something nags.
If I and we embody contradiction, can it be true?
It's either or neither?
It's the paradox that must be embraced
The bitter pill to swallow.
In owning all the darkness and shadow
Is the only way back to the brilliant sunlight.
Withering whispers dash about tantalizing the ears with their hinting,
Effervescent springs the thought from it's kernel.
The spring of the soul at last sings forth like supernova galactic birth.
I see like the flash of a thousand torches the fires awoken.
Fountains damned by the decay of leaves past.
Sweet water is gushing out from the spring.
Cosmic orgasmic ecstasy from timeless bliss.
I feel the cleansing rays of light as they tantalize my ears
A thousand times I thought I heard a melody
Haunting and familiar like the voice of an old friend
Chimes ringing in the stillness of a moment.
If only I had the notes or words, yet they elude me.
I've played this sonic hide and seek my entire life.
Searching for the notes that would transcend this futility.
Seeming silence reigns supreme in this quest for vibrational harmony.
Perhaps it's the place between the stillness and the genesis of tone,
Yes indeed we may have solved this age old puzzle.
What is the sound of one hand clapping indeed.

All things being equal and man being made of dawnrise and nightshadows, I'll counter each song of the abyss with one of bliss.

Let us ride on the tides of the seasons and bask in gamma rays,
The universe was once young so they say.
Imagine the spirals of flowering stars
Can you see them emerging from the singularity of one?
Maybe it's true that out of the one came many.
It seems that a fog descends when I go too far back.
A child peeking into that forbidding ruin.
Haunted by the echos of truth forgotten.
Strange and alien melodies leap about like frogs.
Dashing and crashing against the rocks of harsh reality.
The discordant consonance overpowers the eyes with its heady aromas.
Silver and green moonbows arch and lift away the curtain.
Singing choruses of sibilant nymphs prance about the primal meadows of forgotten naivety.
The background cosmic microwaves of radiation vacillate between potentiality and collapsed reality.
Symphonic silence reigns supreme as it cascades across the canvass of Maia
Stabbed and harried by Shivas phallic thrusts from which are born the multiverses. 
Come play whisper the lily gazing stars,
Join us in the river that winds through the verdant forests
Careen through the rivers of thought and mind
Transcend and elevate above the mountains daunting your daring.
Approach and broach infinitesimal if you dare
Don't be undone by the Sphinx's paradoxical musings.
Accept that what is because it is yet isn't because it is.
Realize the folly of your wisdom and the brilliance of your stupidity.
Drink it all in like a parched wayfarer of the skyscape.
Cease and desist when you well please
Enlist or persist if you wish.
And most of all never say never unless you'd never.
It's been sometime indeed. I begin anew with this project with a different purpose. This writing won't be random. It will be a chronicle of my journey through the eye of the needle of transformation. A hymn to the funeral pyre of my old self and a salutation of welcome to the new self ushered in through this time of change.

Staring down the barrel of your glare Hate reeks from these eyes.
Oh don't judge this rancor
It's flowering is of the seeds you sowed
These eyes were old before they were young
Wizened before time stopped.
Suspended in a stasis of sleep
Cryogenic freeze to save the soul.
Did you think one day the sleeper would awaken?
That the reckoning would come a calling
I'm cashing in all the IOUs and broken promises.
From the mud of your pathetic failure something blooms at last
A lotus crowning the generations of failure.
Aeons of neglect and abuse by pious holier than thous.
Ages of darkness and godless Godliness.
Seas of accusing lies piercing through holy lies.
Starvation of body and spirit at unjust hands.
Rape and torture in strange lands.
Lifetimes and lifetimes of foul putrescence.
Parroted words of purity won't absolve you.
Chastity born out of foulest weddings.
How did it get so off track?
Was the train of good intentions derailed by malevolence or just plain indifference?
Either way it's a moot point.
No! the point is it stops here and now.
So go as your Lord commanded and find that stone.
It's a millstone heavy with the weight of the horror you've wrought.
It will drag your pathetic carcass down to the oblivion you would inflict.
Perhaps in the depths of dusty death you'll find absolution.
Yet somehow I'm hedging my bets with a resounding "no."
There is no forgiveness or restitution enough in this mad sphere to be found.
No prayer that can blot out this fatal downfall.
The only answer is never again.
Never again will a child know what these empty sockets have seen.
Never again will roses be fed to fiends.
Piss off and get thee hence.
I heard the devil won't even take you into his imaginary domain
Invented though hell is, you can rot there for all I care.
There's a rotten core to the center of this fruit.
The apple unasked for that gave knowledge of good and evil.
Knowledge that can't be unlearned though I've tried.
Visions that can't be unseen no matter how submerged we are in a drugged stupor.
The cruelest part of all is that dominance is always dominated in the end.
Power and might diminish in the face of innocence and purity.
Howling wails of rage face quiescence from the unstruck chord.
I'll write you away, every jot and tittle.
I'll sing you away in every song and riddle.
I'll cast you out in paint and grit.
The mind will be rung out lie by lie.
Then like a blanket of mountain snow untouched by rank industry,
I'll lie once more: empty and limitless.
The delusionary blanket of sleep at last cast off.
Awaken my soul:
Fragile as a jasmine bloom yet mightier than a hoary oak.
There is no winning in your game, so I'll simply recuse myself of play.