CCXLIII
Freedom is not a political, economic or religious issue.
It is the quality of Soul prior to any point of reference.
* * * *
In order to experience fully everything imaginable.
Godness had to splinter from totality into the illusionary all.
We are all sovereign parts of the unfolding genesis.
* * * *
Those who vainly climb worldly peaks
Have yet to discern the timeless sovereignty,
The birthright that is inherently equal in all.
* * * *
Idolatry is the egocentric worship
Of any manifest form or concept.
Mammon is a squalid, lonely god.
* * * *
It is as plain as the nose behind your face.
* * * *
Imagination’s only limitation
Is when it gets caught in a loop
Of its own fabricated design.
* * * *
You cannot tame the wind,
Nor contain it in any form.
* * * *
Despite being the same essence at the foundation,
All manifest forms are inevitably bound
By one limitation or another.
* * * *
Why is it so difficult for so many to see
That the artist, brush and painting are all godness?
That creation and evolution are interlinked, simultaneous realities?
* * * *
Godness is the voice babbling in your mind.
* * * *
Where’s a good flood when you need it?
If you must pray, pray for a swift-terrible pandemic
To waylay this mad sprint toward the cliffs.
* * * *
Any creation given to time
Be it a painting, writing or child,
Is but a brief, futile stab at immortality.
One doomed, as are all conscious endeavors,
To be casually swept back into the dusty hall of eternity.
* * * *
Absolutely everything across the universe,
Including the seemingly endless flow of creations
Inspired by the ever-moving human mind,
Is a function of the rhythm of nature.
* * * *
Life is a quantum repast.
* * * *
It is too simple for all the words
And other intellectual pursuits in the world
To ever more than remotely grasp.
* * * *
You want order?
Seek it in the chaotic ground.
* * * *
Be cautious whom you dethrone.
The next tyrant might well
Troll greater depths.
* * * *
Desire is an insatiable furnace.
* * * *
The greatest error made by followers of any storyline
Is believing reality can be bound by any mythology.
* * * *
Vain attempts to hold on to anything
Only encase you in ceaseless suffering.
* * * *
The realization of inner peace
Can only happen when you
Stop trying to hold onto it.
* * * *
Is there any point to anything less
Than a direct, indelible connection
With one’s given absolute nature?
* * * *
If you are bothered by the devil,
He already has you in his clutches.
* * * *
Good breathing kills you.
* * * *
The human paradigm is roller coaster
Slowly, inexorably buckling at the seams.
* * * *
The personal nature is but a distraction.
Pride is always false.
* * * *
Gluttony inevitably makes that little roll of flab
Into a belt-buckling, unhealthy monstrosity.
* * * *
Desire is the prison,
And fear the guard.
* * * *
Everyone dies.
Some just get to attend more funerals.
* * * *
Just another form of the seemingly endless vanity
Invoked by the self-assertions of consciousness.
* * * *
The effort to become the sum of one’s thoughts
Is likely the painful downfall of any who attempt it.
Pride is the disconnection from the source of Eden.
* * * *
Do not expect that which is godness
To align with any form of absurdity.
* * * *
You want so badly for the illusion
To have some meaning or purpose,
But the intrinsic ever-changing nature,
Will only be whatever delusion you prescribe,
And that, too, is endlessly ever-changing.
* * * *
The true spirit of communism
Is not even feasible as the paradigm
Of conspicuous self-absorption now stands.
* * * *
The idolatrous mind creates
An endless array of forms to deify.
Few ever clearly discern that all manifestation
Is finite and temporary, and therefore
Never more than illusion.
* * * *
In any given situation, what more can anyone do
But that for which the moment seems to call
To the best of their interest and capacity.
* * * *
Idealism is a common cause of suffering for many.
The gap between expectation and reality
Can be cavernous, indeed.
* * * *
As well-intended as all the prophets,
Sages, saints and philosophers may have been,
None have yet fundamentally altered
The human paradigm.
* * * *
Nature crushes all who do not abide
The way-given rules of the theater.
* * * *
Eternal salvation is an impersonal affair
Having nothing to do with the vain concoctions
Of any geographical circumstance.
* * * *
We are each our own particular brew of babble.
* * * *
The entire human drama all boils down
To the synergy of capacities and limitations
Interacting in every conceivable manner.
* * * *
Within any given attachment,
The wise plant a seed of detachment.
* * * *
What do any of us truly know
Beyond the limits of imagination?
* * * *
God is a synonym for unknown.
* * * *
Superstition is the brew of fear and inattention.
* * * *
Consciousness is not nearly as monumental or sacred
As so many across this spinning orb have contrived to believe.
It is little more than a relatively cursory, peculiar storm,
An entertaining flurry within the vast silence.
* * * *
From any given beginning
To any given end,
History is nothing more
Than a temporary assumption
Born of the conscious drive to become.
* * * *
The river only stops cutting
When it ceases flowing.
* * * *
Go away kid, ya bother me.
* * * *
Label and destroy.
* * * *
No one is holier than thou.
* * * *
If there is a separate god,
You are, for all practical purposes,
In a relative sense, to it, what an ant is to you.
* * * *
Death trumps all.
* * * *
Any given spark of consciousness
Is fired by the same cosmic engine.
* * * *
What will hook your attention this day?
* * * *
A fascinating thing how bitterly we all get along.
* * * *
It is you who must declare peace with the world.
* * * *
It is close attention that solves any given problem.
* * * *
So infinite as to be true.
* * * *
All quite explicable in an inexplicable way.
* * * *
Any given point of reference
Is an arbitrary, relative concoction
Birthed of the same quantum essence.
* * * *
Do with it whatever you will.
* * * *
Don’t deny it.
We’re all tripping.
* * * *
Whatever you think, kiddo.
* * * *
What a mirage, all consciousness.
* * * *
So predictable as to be interesting.
* * * *
In the quest for reality,
There is no one to follow.
* * * *
Something like that.
* * * *
You can only know
What the infinite database
Allows your perception to glean.
* * * *
Insanity is just an alternate frame of reference
Seeking balance in its own peculiar manner.
* * * *
To claim there is a god,
Or to claim there is no god,
Are both delusional assertions.
In truth, you do not know anything.
To be agnostic is the only true bearing.
* * * *
The Soul is one in all, and all in one.
* * * *
The chick hatches when it is good and ready.
* * * *
Floating in awareness.
* * * *
A good portion of any given history
Is always lingering between the lines.
* * * *
This universe may well be but one facet
Of a grand crest-jewel of infinity’s vast mystery.
For all we can ever really know, there are god-zillions more
Beyond what contemporary technologies
Are capable of discerning.
* * * *
At the moment of life’s conception,
The trap is sprung, and the game afoot.
* * * *
But for your own fictitious, vain disposition,
There is no real need to continue
Any particular patter.
* * * *
Time and space are the movement of the mind
From quantum to the forms inspired by light and sound.
At the point of awareness prior to consciousness
There are no differences whatsoever.
* * * *
For all its assertive capacity
To manipulate its birthing ground,
Humankind gives relatively little scrutiny
To the future it each and every moment creates.
* * * *
Is so-called civilization
Really all that much superior
To that labeled barbarian?
* * * *
A still mind is a clear, receptive pool.
* * * *
For those partial to deep inquiry,
These thoughts may be well-suited.
For those not so-inclined . . . party on.
* * * *
Who is master, who is slave?
In the end, all fates are the same.
* * * *
The sage discerns
The randomness of choice,
And acts accordingly.
* * * *
Across the universe and beyond,
See your Self.
* * * *
The imperative of any given seed
Is the architect of all destinies.
* * * *
Cleanliness may be next to godliness,
But, then again, so is dirtiness.
* * * *
The resources to sustain the human drama are depleted.
The apex is quickly passing in the rear-view mirror.
Time’s remainder is the battle for the remains.
This spinning globe can offer no more.
* * * *
Any given existence is chock full of decisions
That might well have been different
At different junctures.
Regrets,
As futile as they are,
Seem, indeed, forlornly inevitable.
* * * *
Thanks for nothing.
* * * *
Through the apex
Humanity has wandered.
Where to hence is the last question.
* * * *
What is bliss but another veil to be transcended.
* * * *
I Am
Is all any can truly say.
* * * *
Anything born of Maya can never be real and lasting.
* * * *
Truth is not for those tethered to living.
* * * *
It is difficult for any to see clearly
When surrounded by blindness.
* * * *
Whether you witness
The essential nature or not,
It cannot be denied or discarded,
For its reality, like it or not,
Is what you really are.
* * * *
Curious how some behave
As though they had never even met
And shared that brief moment of communion.
Verily, what a strange, disconnected species we are.
* * * *
These writings, too, can be used to bitter ends
By the many whose predictable nature it is
To manipulate and subjugate their world.
Be very wary lest you again fall prey
To the twisted whims of the other.
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The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)
© Michael J. Holshouser 2009
World Rights Reserved