Sunday, November 12, 2006

First Human Interaction

The world collapsing again
Into a dark cloud
One undifferentiated critical mass
Permeates the clarity
And suddenly the habit is pulverized, finally and forever
Hidden no more
The world blooms vividly
And the phenomena of the world
Speaks a new language
Displaying itself from a new angle
Mysteriously shrouded before.

It was an inside job
How else could the thief gain access
Without the guardian of the gate
Providing the blueprints
He’d drawn up over all those years?
The entire structure
Foundation and all
Dismantled in a moment
With the precision
Of demolition experts.

In the first human interaction
Trembling with uncertainty
A momentary Bodhisattva
Offers perfect assistance
Providing for each desire of the heart.

Some would say,
It was just good customer service:
Experienced ones guiding those still looking.
But I know better:
This seamless transaction
Had no precedent.
The entire universe

At the Rave

Gyrating bodies whirling
Twirling to the rhythmic force.
Liquid lights splashing
Rainbow colors over flesh.
Sonic depth charges sounding
Reverberating through the core.

From out of the belly of Russia
Contorting wildly like a yogini gone mad,
Yanna, Goddess of shadows
Exhibits her bewitching skill.

Lured into the heart of the frenzy
Wild wanton desires take over.
Flesh and bone unbridled, deposing
Mechanical subjection to reason.

The smoke obscures
The fire consumes
The chaos overwhelms
The descent is complete.

Melting the Ground of Being

The ground frozen for so long
The souls of my feet finally thawing;
Many years before, the frigid venture
Zapped all the warmth from my being.
Putting my spirit foot down today
The corporeal soil flexes in response
An emissary flies in from the other side once again
As the finch returns to find its nest still perched above the door
So happy, this spring, it calls out in joy!

Human Archipelago

Language is only one island
In the human archipelago,
Stranded on this desert island
The current age longs desperately
For the only other island in view.

Each islander a sole commentator
Making a mental inventory of experience
Mistaking this personal monologue for reality
But where is the audience?
If only
The right word or phrase
Could encapsulate it . . .
This whatever it all is,
Then maybe we’d all be saved.
The word made flesh, right?
Daily rations from the nearby island of Reason are sent over
Never enough to satisfy
Only enough to make the mind more ravenous and wild-eyed
Like a hungry ghost searching for more.

Beyond the view
Of all the telescopes and microscopes
The other islands in the chain
Remain just below the horizon.
Entire civilizations,
Forgotten races,
Settled on them long ago
They may still be there.
These islands have little to do with the brain
Ruled by other organs of perception
They occupy the mysterious regions of the body
Vacated in the quest for assurances
A mass migration of awareness
Assembled in higher locations
Away from the untempered pull
Of our shimmering boundless reality.

To this day
Emissaries arrive ashore
Unrecognized by most
Day and night they are ignored
Even with all their door knocking:
Explained away as aches and pains
Or quirks of brain chemistry
Quickly corralled by words
Phantoms with no substance.

Some folks however have heard their call
For them a journey awaits
Over a rugged and dark sea
Full of tempests and tears
Back into the forgotten territory
Remembered, their limbs are amassed again
And filled to the brim
With a substance that understands no words
But knows everything else.

From there
Beyond this human region
There are numberless island chains
Beckoning to us from the infinite expanse of Being.

Base Camp

This incarnation has set up base camp
Out here on the third arm of the milky way
Quadrillions of millions of miles
Away from the galactic center.

From this outpost
On the fringes of the void
Instruments and gauges
Embedded in the five-limbed bio mass
Have been positioned
Observing specific developments
Measuring the character and dispositions
Of the dominant species
Manipulating this planet.

A secret mission informs
The turbulent wave forms and mass movements
Virulently infecting and cascading through
The mind stream of the current age.
Dissonance replacing harmony
Commonism replacing proportion
Quantity over quality:
All hypnotized to the vibes
Of a small phosphorescent box
Suggestion filling in
The emptiness left hollow
By the departure of cosmic certainty
The gods having abandoned their station
Long ago.

Temples made of steel
Do not last as long as temples of stone;
The rust penetrates the virtue
Established by the pilgrims
Who first settled in this region.
The corruption that has permeated
The axis of the core attraction
Has been magnetically polarized
Mysteriously misaligned
In coordination with the global imperative:
The directive unaltered
For every planetary transition
From one evolutionary form to another.

The transit authority
Guides the subterranean subterfuge
Through each stage
Of each successive age
With perfect precision.
With the proper coordinates aligned
The megalithic tapestry
Will reverberate again
Tuning in the synchronous sounds
Of the universal overture.