CLXXVI
As soon as you believe
You’ve finally figured it out,
A gust of wind casts it asunder
For the thousandth time that day.
* * * *
How fresh, how weary an immortal soul
Encased in mortal flesh and time can be.
* * * *
Takes one to know one.
* * * *
Another absent-minded moment
Lost to perception.
* * * *
If they know how they were being watched,
What would they say and do?
Look to history for your answer, Pilgrim.
* * * *
Many doors open the young and innocent,
Many of which they will oft times wish hadn’t.
* * * *
Looking for something in which no form can be found.
* * * *
Anonymity cannot be found.
That which is given need not be sought,
For it is in the living seen.
* * * *
Buddha in a baseball cap.
* * * *
They who do not look can never see.
* * * *
A rotting carcass not yet a day old.
* * * *
Much easier to let stupidity rule.
* * * *
Feel fortunate you do not see me,
For I would test your field of vision.
* * * *
You might be loved forever
If it were not flesh
About which we were talking.
* * * *
You have seen enough shores
To know they count as one.
* * * *
Brakes work best when their use in intended in advance.
* * * *
Youthful flesh makes fools of all.
* * * *
If you had it, would you still want it?
* * * *
As any group is held back
By its slowest lollygag,
So is a species.
* * * *
It is sheer randomness that creates heaven.
* * * *
With dying comes the realization
That it was all a mirage.
* * * *
The toll of age comes to all who survive their youth.
* * * *
It is in the everyday mundane you will find your Soul.
* * * *
It’s been a pretty good container,
Considering what you’ve put it through
To reach this moment in this vast mystery.
* * * *
The universe is a masterpiece
Set to any scale you please.
* * * *
It’s always a good day to die.
* * * *
Armed with paper, pen and mind,
You wander into the arena uncontested.
* * * *
Most lose interest in a game
That has no discernable score.
* * * *
Looking for a witness
To your self-absorbed glory
Is a lifetime of incessant delusion.
* * * *
There will perhaps come a time
When even your own silly game,
You will no longer be able to play.
* * * *
Strength is nothing without flexibility,
Dexterity, capacity, wit and endurance.
* * * *
To be content; completely, absolutely satisfied
At that last whispered whiff of awareness
Will be life’s greatest challenge.
* * * *
It will be into the far distant future
That this wordy shadow shall cross.
Only a few need keep the ember aglow.
* * * *
Step back from the windswept crest,
And celebrate what time remains
With a resurgence of sanity
All but lost in history’s
Present unfolding.
* * * *
Toying with the future of time.
* * * *
The best diet plan is getting lost
In a forest for a week or three.
* * * *
Tis an answer only mind’s play will play out.
* * * *
To play so far ahead in time
Is to be very much present.
* * * *
Every game has its players and watchers.
Which be ye?
* * * *
Belief is often a parasitic venture.
* * * *
They pay no more attention to your game
Than you do theirs.
* * * *
In this mystic’s odyssey,
Commitments have been short,
And the usual mix of bitter and sweet.
* * * *
All states of consciousness are relative.
All are temporal parts of the corporate whole
Very much the same at the most essential level.
Any claims to the contrary are delusional.
* * * *
Science is always playing catch-up.
* * * *
Let each be a prophet unto Self.
* * * *
There is no one way to express the One Way.
* * * *
Eternity is the lair into which even dragons fear treading.
* * * *
As present as the tides of consciousness allow.
* * * *
Endless chatter.
No different, really, than the babbling
Of any given brook.
* * * *
There is an absolute,
But it is very much prior
To anything consciousness
Can ever even imagine spinning.
* * * *
More useless numbers.
* * * *
Friends are reflections who like us,
Enemies those too similar to tolerate.
* * * *
A pretty large theater this planet offers this passion play.
* * * *
You yearn so badly for it to matter,
And that it doesn’t, and never will,
Is the source of incessant pain.
* * * *
Thank you, kindly.
* * * *
Humanity’s fate is dark beyond the horizon.
* * * *
Infinite patience
Is a one-moment-at-a-time
Kind of thing.
* * * *
Misguided expectations inevitably
Bring about conflict and suffering.
* * * *
Few will ever take care of you
As well as you will yourself.
* * * *
You don’t have to tell them what you think.
* * * *
I have done it all through you.
* * * *
Shopper hell would be without malls, sales and holidays.
* * * *
As moths to light,
Humans to consciousness.
* * * *
Expectations and disappointment
Have some sort of inverse ratio.
* * * *
Shit waiting to happen.
* * * *
Lots of nothing special.
* * * *
You are delusional like all the rest.
* * * *
And what do you think that proves?
* * * *
Well intentioned, but misguided.
* * * *
Belief is just the speculation
With which you are most comfortable.
* * * *
The wayward mystic.
* * * *
Try unbecoming.
* * * *
Funny what we get used to,
What each calls normal.
* * * *
But for imagination, you have never existed.
* * * *
A speck of sand,
A drop of water,
A ray of light,
You are.
* * * *
Everything short of infinity is limited foolishness.
* * * *
The universe is just a larger womb.
* * * *
The unwavering solitude
Cannot be offset
By any number of others.
* * * *
Despite the fact
That time is illusion,
It’s a rather curious thing
That you can never go back.
* * * *
Those psycho-babblers seem to have
A label for everything, don’t they?
* * * *
The harder you try, the further away it gets.
* * * *
All things to all people.
* * * *
Vanity is the pride of consciousness.
* * * *
In the end, diddley-squat is its name.
* * * *
Where no tourista can go.
* * * *
Who came up with the idea to call it progress?
Was it the same guy who defined resources?
* * * *
A god based on vanity is no god at all.
* * * *
If all you knew was a forest,
Valley, desert, mountain or seaside.
How could you ever imagine anything else?
* * * *
A consistent process of discovery and rediscovery.
* * * *
Daily, fewer and fewer growing up
With a relationship with nature.
* * * *
Do you really know what you are, anymore?
* * * *
The ambitious have always drug everyone else in their wake.
* * * *
Any given mind is ever juggling
Whatever universe it contains.
* * * *
What is Mount Everest to an ant?
What is the universe to a microbe?
* * * *
Wake up to your world.
* * * *
Feel the sanity of a complete breath.
* * * *
You really can’t more than a priori now.
Why would you want to live forever?
* * * *
Misunderstood again and again.
* * * *
No reason to count the miles
On the highway to nowhere.
* * * *
Good god, laugh at yourself a bit more.
You are a joke of sorts, you know.
* * * *
Your wealth is beyond words.
* * * *
Seize the moment.
* * * *
Sure ripe for that lesson, ain’t ya?
* * * *
The answer is that there is really
No question that needs and answer.
* * * *
Ignorance is always making claims
That inquiry cannot sustain.
* * * *
A timely death.
* * * *
Infinitely tall, infinitely small.
* * * *
A dream some call life.
* * * *
Only a fool teases a hornet’s nest.
* * * *
Sometimes it’s doing that counts.
Sometimes being’s just enough.
* * * *
Depends which version of history
To which you subscribe.
* * * *
Whenever hope enters the picture,
There probably isn’t much.
* * * *
Wisdom is much less interesting than a good erection.
That’s why it’s usually the domain of the old and wizened.
* * * *
All too often life consists of shuffling things back and forth.
* * * *
Plain and simple, time travel is not possible
Because there’s really no such thing as time.
* * * *
We battle over instinctual tribal patterns
Born of imagination’s beginnings.
* * * *
If godness is in your heart,
As so many scriptures assert,
Then what does that make you?
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)
© Michael J. Holshouser 2009
World Rights Reserved