If All is One

If All is One,
And One is None,
Then me plus you equals everything and nothing and the space in between holds the collective dream of a return to Eden with the knowledge we were missing first time around.
Let us make a list of all the shifts in the confidence of consciousness
to show itself completely,
And as I'm reeling from the heady responsibility of equanimity,
I find myself lacking in enmity for the creatures whose bodies I have worn before.
If I see me in you, then my love is your love and all grief is our grief,
And I believe the capability for amicability is more pervasive than we give ourselves credit for.
In due time our tendency toward creativity develops a transparency that leads to exponential possibility,
and I for one look forward to the days of worshiping divinity by loving Un-self-consciously
and breathing in the feeling nature of reality,
tasting vibrations and mastering a meaningful evolution in the art of elocution that transcends all sense of You and Me and lets us all breathe a little more free.

Home

Are you ready to call me Home yet?
You know I'm your boy and this Whether is holding steady at a pulsing heart rhythm.
I'd like to come home to you,
wrap my breath around you:
First Inhale
Then Exhale
Followed by the space in between where dwell sweet dreams devoid of romantic illusions of,
"Please complete me".
Only help me hold this double mirror that shows us to infinity as two completed entities.
I want to share with you my vision of reality:
The beauty in our hearts,
the powers we possess.
I'll keep this heart inside my chest where it works best,
and cultivate instead a glowing consciousness expansion
that exceeds all sense of "you" and "me"
and I'd like to share this thing I set free.

chakra crown

Sometimes my opacity makes for a paucity of clear delineation.
Inside the mirror-mind the meaning is crystalline but my directional markers are written in a tongue you find foreign and there's nothing to it but a long-time pause while I teach you my language and refrain from placing blame because you could've learned it sooner but you chose not to.
My lingua franca is not so much foreign as forgotten,
lost in a global case of dyspepsia as we all try to stomach the modern age.
This is an interpersonal variety of knowing,
a transpersonal way of Being
called
Heart Beat
Body Heat
Third-eye
Chakra crown.
Learn it
head to feet.

The Feeling is Mutable

I miss the blue and gold of you.
I miss the flesh and bone of you.
I miss the present moments
stretched into a waking dream with you.
Inside of your circumference
I want nothing but your presence,
and do I dare to mention that I want to breathe your essence?
I so miss the perfect weight of you,
cheek inside of palm and in my head I am debating you.
A hand around my throat says the feeling here is mutual
But here i sit alone, so I guess they're all so mutable.
I miss the naked truth of you,
The good of feeling pain with you
and if you reconsider I will climb up to the moon for you.
The sound of your elation does
Empower my creation
and the Universe I travel is awaiting destination.

Create a constant ink flow as though there's no tomorrow and I've got to tell the world everything that's inside of me in the perfect words so the most people will understand.
I have to find the common denominator to pull us all together in equanimity, where my magic eclipses the lines that separate us from ourselves and one another.
How best to relay the simple message scrawled inside my bone marrow
to all these frozen senses obscured by outdated parodies of approximations and amalgamations containing more and more contamination...?
A fleeting metaphor inevitably becomes more opaque the further in I travel...
There is no universal language so I end up creating my own; twisting old words into new forms to suit my singular syntax as best they are able.
I can't always tell if it's working but I have to keep trying because somewhere out there is a lost soul searching for a reason to keep breathing and I'm compelled to provide the mirror by which they are reminded of their own divinity.
I want to remind us that we granted ourselves freedom when we created these bodies and we are here to feel something beautiful.
Our abstracted presence is the result of a lofty vision created far beyond the monkey-mind prison and it's about time we started living with precision.

Time Time Time
Tricky time line is a fine wine aged to perfection
and settling into sediment are thoughts of a muddled vision
sentenced to indecision,
but the derision is divisible by you plus me minus all the other dimensions
and I think it's time for a resurrection of slow days that drift with rivers and tide pools in sun and moon time, harvest and loon time.

Give me time in gravity and moon beams,
seasons and cycles,
and the flowering of a hundred-year cactus.
Give me evolutionary time,
tectonic time,
symphonic time...

Digital Religion

Create skin and bones ethereal,
Breath and emotion corporeal,
And sensation: magical vibration.

Pulses blend in timed
Syncopation, while
Epidermal mind meld steels me with elation.

Eat me with your iris in a
Blue-gold incantation.
And Taste me with your fingers,
Scripting digital religion.

Tease me out with the right amount of pressure,
Crowbar my rib-cage
And crawl inside the fissure.

Now--
Oceanic calm in a firm embrace
is granting me safety upon release,

And with release
You may breathe me formless,
Gifted with presence
And divinity shameless.

I am You are Me

Me: Wandering through my memory maze I catch a glimpse of my Selves, past/present/future. Parallel universes present in my musings, lifetimes out of time, possibilities infinite. I see who I could be, what I could do, where I have existed in and out of space-time. Dual faces juxtaposed inside the skin and bones of my face are looking out through one set of eyes, pushing and shoving to get a better view and a foothold in reality more solid than the other guy has. or had. until now.

I view snippets of my life on a gag reel. It's not all humorous, but it is ridiculous. Ridiculous in the way that all human drama is exaggerated and punctuated with the melodramatic flair of soap opera theatrics: tragic yet laughable. While existing in past moments of dramatic intensity, I certainly wasn't laughing, I assure you. I was flailing. I was drowning in my over-active imagination, positively giddy inside with the sheer dramatic effect of victimhood.

It is possible to fall so far inside the mind that the present moment is never actually felt. Sometimes this condition is necessary for survival.

Flash back to terror again. Backlash felt inside skin cells and bone marrow.

A separation of mind and body so drastic it takes a lifetime to put the two back together. It is a process merely beginning, with a world left to travel before truly meeting back in the middle.

(Space in between light and shadow, surpassing them both to a place beyond duality. )

A single moment stored in the body grows through time, expands until it takes over past/present/future, building walls thicker and tougher than whale skin and just as warm in a dark memory ocean.

There I go again, lost in a memory trance, demons robbing me of life, moment by moment, shaving away minutes as if I'll never miss what I never really had to begin with. Try to come back by examining my reflection again. I could see something new this time, discover something vital about who or what I am. If I search my eyes hard enough, perhaps I'll find me in there and pull myself out. I must drag myself: pulling hair, ripping clothes, knocking out a few teeth; so great is the resistance to this and all moments.

I revisit trauma now with a purpose: eradication, freedom, forced visitation, demon exodus. Explore the body now. View nooks and crannies of feeling, stored over too long, fused with this self that I call mine. So now the un-fusing.

A separation is needed if wholeness will ever occur. A release of moments past that hinder this now.

Swirling thoughts running in place, hope for clarification through repeated backward glances, meanwhile tripping over present moments forgotten to be lived until they are mere memories. Memory of a remembering of a moment in which I was not really there. Ten times removed from the present moment it is finally safe to explore. Or so was my thinking.

The only way to escape is through recognition, experience, acknowledgment of body, mind and spirit in equal parts. I once said that I needed to be unleashed. It is begun.

You: I scare people. They see themselves unmasked through my eyes. Welcome to your Self. I put you on display, though no one can see but you and me. It is enough to scare all but the most determined souls. Enough to put the fear of discovery in heretofore unexamined hearts. Nobody likes a mirror that tells the truth, looks past skin and teeth, down through nostrils, around tonsils, catching on cilia. Intestines are turned inside out; bowels and all exposed, atoms splitting all the way down to the light of the Universe buried inside of every chest.

This is what I show you and you run from: Light.

With light comes darkness and shadow, source of fear deeply seeded. Would you believe me if I told you that you created yourself? Would you believe me if I told you that god and devil indwell you in equal parts?

Inhale, exhale, repeat as needed.

Are you ready for my revelation? Are you ready to be whole? Can you feel your own vibration? I do. I feel you vibrating next to me or across the room or across oceans, across time and space and dimensionality, your wavelengths bouncing off of mine... or commingling harmoniously. (If they commingle, then I know you know this and I say pardon me for preaching to the choir). How deep are you willing to plunge into the unknown, dark and abysmal self?

Are you prepared to be stripped down, beyond the flesh? I'm recording you in real time and I'm on maximum zoom. Into the grain I go, grain of flesh, grain of light, you've lost all shape and texture, now you are color, pointillist rainbow. Point by point I will examine you and roll you through my fingers to get a feel for your vibration. Meet me at the lowest common denominator. I am yours and you are mine.

Us: Repeatedly you may ask me, broken record that you are and absent enough not to notice, repeatedly you ask me: How do I know this? I know because you know because we know the truth the way our bodies know they need food, water, sleep, the way an infant knows that cries manifest full breasts for the suckling. I know because I have harvested the memories buried inside my chest and I see in your eyes that you possess the same. Let us learn from each other. I will dig you out if you will do the same for me, for today I am x-ray and you are skeletal, or is musculature exposed and fleshy beneath me? I want so much for you to shed your illusions and see yourself the way that I do, unfooled as I am by your mind-fucking prestidigitation.

Side note on the sidelines of time: We are losing our language in the age of abbreviation, so bear with me if I conjure up specifics that you may or may not have forgotten while staring wide eyed at professional sports and reality tee vee stars.

I will continue to mention a forgetting because there is nothing I can say that you don't already know. The written word has created worlds while doing nothing for our memories. The collective memory goes back to the edge of reality and beyond and I feel a yearning in the human spirit to remember why we exist.

Wounded humanity is searching for an outlet, a way back to the source within, light of the universe, every speck of dust teeming with the power to simply BE...

Desperate search now: race to the finish line, a lost people, lost generations, thousands of years lost in delusion; we are a people of illusion, preferring that which we create in our minds to that which stands in front of us. The sun sheds light equally on us all, let us learn from this. Everything casts a shadow regardless of the value we give it. Perception swings pendulum drastic, black then white then back again. No balance. Let me help you escape your excitation, let me be your ocean calm- path back to yourself- my wish for you is no less than my wish for me: merely peace, simply profundity. I want to free you from your self-created tears of pain. You slingshot yourself through life hoping that there will be a good movie to watch and enjoy at the end of the ride, but meanwhile you've missed the point.

May all beings be happy.

Can you say this with conviction? Cast off your sense of self and transcend this body of experiences to see the bigger picture: Creation. Light. Human drama spinning samsara lifetime after lifetime: Same shit, different body, different timeline- circumstantial paradigm shift- hope for at least one lesson to permeate each new generation. Slow going. Minimal progress...

Examine singlehanded revelation granted with a kiss from my inner optimist. Mystical me is feeling for this We and searching for a singular answer of regeneration. Paradigm shift profoundly offered if you see it waving from inside the darkness by which you sleep away the days. We are wading knee deep in this muck and shit, illusory destination set in play dough softness, equally malleable, not to mention fallible to infant and to grandpa time. I see footprints across our dreams from the ants that never stop being... is there a pattern yet detected here? Is it clear that I am You are Me? Separate cells in one living organism, synchronized swimmers creating divine geometry, incomplete minus any one line...send me a sign before I send you one first, for mine will be iconoclastic and turn your world inside out in the hopes that this new perspective will shed some light on your own shadow. I want to know before I am dead if you can see within me the light of our divinity and realize I am your pond reflection, I am your truth seduction; let me seduce you with reality, expose what you've been missing, precious you, I say surprise, it is granted and with your luminosity a sense of liminality and no trace of lamentation for what has come before this moment. Welcome back.

After [Gleann Cholm Cille]

Who is this plant you speak of?
What are these meaningless words you use to describe yourselves?
I have come from a land of Rain Bringers, Black Princes and Viking Dolphins.
God's Messengers have sat with me and supped on eggs and bacon.
Sheep announced morning, noon and night.
Now you expect me to take up my old baton,
Continue the march through polluted forests and time infested thoroughfares?
Walk back with me across my memory,
Let me show you the sunset backdrop on the water
While we amble slow down a one lane road and breathe clean air again.
I'm Badass Bear.
What shall I call you?

Temple of the Sun

I'm feeling no connection. My overloaded system cannot absorb any more energy, be it positive, negative or neutral. I stand behind my camera lens and refuse to allow experience to filter through mirrors and into my mind's eye. The heaviness is subtle, shrugged off easily enough with a clove and a bucket of laughs with the homies. Externally carefree. Internal--lead weight.
I search for something missing, scan the horizon and breathe in how small I am. In shrinking down to my mammal proportions, I finally remember my own ability for supernatural contortions of matter into sound into energy all-encompassing. I remember my favorite saying: I am you are me, and I sink slowly back into myself where I feel blissfully free to be me.

Derry

My bones took an unexpected turn that day in Derry.
First it was a subtle pinch,
followed by an aching thump,
and finally I melted in a puddle next to my broken heart.
Stories of remorse, regret, terror and shame.
How can one tiny place hold so much bleakness
in the folds of a centuries-old memory?
I wonder
Does that little girl
in her pink leopard print
feel the impact of her city's black and white-ness
it's us or them-ness?
Does her education these days involve lessons of
No Surrender or Trial by Fire?