30 October 2009

Chapter 180 - The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)

CLXXX

Enough of us do seem to hate this world,
That it will be forced to wipe out our presence
At some yet unknown point in whatever time remains.

* * * *
The mind is really not.

* * * *
And on the eighth day
God was a little less enthralled
By his two-legged creation.

* * * *
Absolutely, unequivocally, undeniably, unrecognizable.
A memory, the reality of which need never be seen again.
Might be a nice facility if it weren’t for all the buildings.

* * * *
It sends you beyond tears, beyond rage,
Into the dark cloud of resigned disbelief.

* * * *
Done, done, the damage done.

* * * *
Memories can be beautiful and yet,
Too painful to remember.
We simply choose to forget.
So it’s the laughter, we will remember
Whenever we remember . . . the way we were.

* * * *
Amazing what human beings will do
For money, fame, fortune or belief.

* * * *
Rip Van Winkle ain’t got nothing on you.

* * * *
Sometimes it’s best not to go back.

* * * *
Ironic that so many so-called believers think they are followers of god
When vanity so rules every waking step of their polluted existence.
Pathetically out of touch with anything but fog-bound delusion.

* * * *
Just one more corner
To wander around
Before you die.

* * * *
Nostalgia is a questionable virtue.

* * * *
Let no one else’s law rule your inner world.

* * * *
Our shadow is long, the scars are many.
How long will it take for all signs of humanity to disappear
Once we are driven to extinction?

* * * *
Shed a tear for all the life that has suffered the time of man.
Run, little creatures, run, for our war drum sounds your destruction.
We will consume you, torture you, or mold you to our rabid ends.

* * * *
Amazing how timeless nature is.

* * * *
The breeders own the future.

* * * *
A fellow named Ronald Reagan said
“If you’ve seen one tree, you’ve seen ‘em all.”
I say, if you’ve seen one Reagan, you’ve seen enough.

* * * *
Moments, seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks,
Months, years, decades, centuries, millenniums…
The time of man is such a measured dream.

* * * *
Your ancestors include plankton and bacteria.

* * * *
The last human is long since dust,
And the sun, a burnt-out husk, is slowly being inhaled
By a black hole the size of a golf ball.

* * * *
What is the universe but dust storm
Lazily weaving eternity’s collusion?

* * * *
Civilization is a convenient cloak for absurdity.

* * * *
If your vision of godness
Does not include you,
Where the hell are you?

* * * *
Nobody here but awareness.

* * * *
Down in the caves, the canaries go first,
As the sensitive all too often do.

* * * *
The senses offer gratification,
But harmony, contentment, serenity
Are derived from a more profound source.

* * * *
Motion is a conceptual image-making process
In which the electrical-chemical essence
Weaves from sugar to cotton candy,
And movement attains illusion.

* * * *
How clever you are to have imagined all this,
But now you are attached to it, as a rabbit is a cage.
Freedom is the momentary breath of time’s end.

* * * *
What a complex world every child
Must somehow learn to navigate.
* * * *
There seems to be no shortage
Of mirrors and reflections
In this gamey dream.

* * * *
Better to walk calmly to the executioner’s block
With head held high, serenely looking death in the eye,
And with knowing wink, watch who shudders at mortality’s end.

* * * *
Why is it so many always try to be somewhere else?
The incessant thought process travels in time
Oblivious to the eternal salvation
Offered every moment.

* * * *
This so-called modern world
May be layered with a veneer of civilization,
But it is ever a jungle, nonetheless.
It is really only technology
That has changed.

* * * *
Wonder how you’d look at them now.

* * * *
Rhymes and reasons for which there is no accounting.

* * * *
The death without waiting.

* * * *
There is no time in nature.

* * * *
Try as we might,
We will not destroy Eden.
It will crush us long before that time.

* * * *
To see eternity clearly,
You must be completely detached
From every thing thought’s movement concocts.

* * * *
How many of us just sit down
Reminiscing times we didn’t.

* * * *
The time-bound spend their existence
Remembering the choice-filled perceptions.
Few discern the eternal choicelessness.

* * * *
What’s the point of all this, you ask?
To help awaken those who no longer need
The imaginary veneer of any pretension.

* * * *
Zenning away, baby, zenning away.

* * * *
All the others in your dream will think whatever you think they think.
Good, bad or indifferent, it’s all the creation of your vain perception.

* * * *
Reside where you don’t believe any of it.

* * * *
By whatever you name it, whether you can discern it or not,
This essence resides in every part and particle
Of that which is and is not.

* * * *
A true human being
Dees beyond the personal veil
Into the vast depths of the original nature.

* * * *
Animals with too many very dangerous toys.

* * * *
You didn’t know anything when you started,
But that changed as time gave birth to the mind.
And now the challenge is to discern that primal innocence
In the midst of this earthly hell in which you strive daily to survive.

* * * *
Don’t you ache for all the suffering we must each endure?

* * * *
The same dull, repetitive conversations
Over and over and over and…

* * * *
Nirvana is really quite simple.

* * * *
Sure fooled you, didn’t they?

* * * *
This vain little monopoly game only
Works for the winners of the game.

* * * *
What is the point of fighting over things
That really don’t matter even one iota?

* * * *
Common sense is much less sense than common.

* * * *
Will we play Pac-Man till everything is gone?

* * * *
Madmen speak in many tongues.

* * * *
Losing reverence for the mysterious origin
Only carries us further and further
Into more perilous waters.

* * * *
Do you wonder if the last human being
Will understand what happened
As death’s scythe carves
Into the last breath?

* * * *
History is a token resistance to reality.

* * * *
Just a few more bags of grist.

* * * *
A statement of fact so unremarkably, accurately, astutely simple
As to astound, dismay or anger anyone vain enough
To even begin to presume otherwise.

* * * *
Drift and wander like an autumn leaf blowing into winter.

* * * *
Toward a time to which you have no clue.

* * * *
Painstakingly simple.

* * * *
Muddle on toward your muddled end.

* * * *
Back into the peace of oblivion.

* * * *
Masks are really so thin and ever-changing.

* * * *
Moot points, all.

* * * *
Another bizarre assumption.

* * * *
How divinely mad this play of consciousness
With its never-ending cycles of exultation and torment.
So enticingly absorbing, and yet ever meaningless.
So incessantly tempting, yet ever the mirage,
Like a coyote laughing on the horizon.

* * * *
Reverence and irreverence,
The coin of duality tossed
From head to tail, and tail to head
Again and again, ironically, mirthfully, forever.

* * * *
Too far gone to even bother trying to straighten out.

* * * *
Too many words and numbers to bag them all.

* * * *
How subtle the thoughts of mystics and seers throughout the ages.
Every word ever written loaded with pregnant purpose.
Only the adept can appreciate the artistry.

* * * *
Religions argue over their conceptual gods,
Yet what word can ever define the truth within?

* * * *
Could time exist without your collusion?

* * * *
Delusion is believing
You have any influence
Over the underlying form.

* * * *
Trash comes in all colors, shapes and sizes.

* * * *
Ponder, if you will, the end of time.

* * * *
Do you really believe your primal nature
Is all that different than any other creature’s?
Whether amoeba or whale, cockroach or elephant,
The foundation of existence is intrinsic to every life Pform.

* * * *
It is the great commonality.

* * * *
As far as it goes,
The universe is created
And sustained solely by you.

* * * *
Reality is the eternal essence prior to all limitation.

* * * *
You gorge upon the senses,
Ever coming from the trough unfilled,
Yet always come back for another heaping plate
Of the same illusory, temporal feast.

* * * *
If you can’t laugh at yourself,
What right do you have
To laugh at everyone else?

* * * *
All this work for nothing.

* * * *
The mystery is really that there’s no mystery.

* * * *
Life, a collision course with death.

* * * *
The breath of god
Is the breath of life
Is the breath of you.

* * * *
Did that really happen?
Or is this mind just playing
Another senior moment?

* * * *
Philosophy is a silly way to waste your time;
You would probably be much happier
Knocking little dimpled white balls into sandy pits,
Or using hooks tied to string to search rivers for sunken tires.

* * * *
Life is a series of pleasant moments marred occasionally
By all but indelible explosions of incredible suffering.

* * * *
What some call love is just compatibility.

* * * *
Justice is very relative.

* * * *
Sane beyond belief.

* * * *
Is there any audience but your imagination?

* * * *
There can be lots and lots of awakened ones, you know.

* * * *
The universe dance in detached perfection.

* * * *
Sex is a powerful aphrodisiac.

* * * *
There’s no shortage of irony in this player’s universe.

* * * *
Enjoy and let go.

* * * *
Play it isn’t so.

* * * *
Some are born to anonymity, others to limelight.
Destiny is a strange mix of blessing and curse.

* * * *
It matters much less how you die
As it does how you live.

* * * *
Is happiness a choice?
If so, make it now.

* * * *
Rhyme and reason isn’t always.


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)
© Michael J. Holshouser 2009
World Rights Reserved

Chapter 181 - The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)

CLXXXI

Philosophy that doesn’t have its meaning
Deeply rooted into the day-to-day
Is all but worthless.

* * * *
Born to die, forever.

* * * *
Infinity’s eye gazes from every witness.

* * * *
Know evil, choose goodness.

* * * *
When you ask, “What’s the point?”
Are you meaning mine or yours,
Or hers or his, ours or theirs
Or just, what’s the point?

* * * *
We are all Buddha,
Neither one nor the other.

* * * *
It is far simpler than anyone can ever make it.

* * * *
Zen what?

* * * *
The meditation is in the moment.

* * * *
Ambition is for those who want a life filled with bother.

* * * *
If you want to know the future, go to Wal-Mart.

* * * *
Philosophers are a useless species to the world at large.

* * * *
We are all food for one dream or another.

* * * *
To rationalize this mystery, peoples across the world
Create analogical tools from their frame reference.
Pre-technological times formed natural metaphors.
The agents of this time look to creations of the mind.

* * * *
Civilize or civil lies?

* * * *
Yesterday is gone,
Tomorrow is yet to come
And nowness streams like sand
Through the hourglass of consciousness.

* * * *
Is now ever good enough
For a mind full of time?

* * * *
How incredible to be dealt a tough hand,
And still finish out one’s life a winner.

* * * *
Why should you, how can you
Ever justify the life you dream to any other?
It is yours and yours alone to witness as only you will.

* * * *
Any game, any collusion
Depends upon the players
To abide by the agreements
Dealt of relative circumstance.

* * * *
Is the story of Atlas any different than your own?
Who does not hold up their version of the world
Every moment of their imagined existence?

* * * *
What is the body but a filtrating receiving unit?

* * * *
The reverie of eternity is played out
In the mind bubbled of its own time.

* * * *
Any given frame of reference is expanded with every experience.
To extrapolate into every frame of reference imaginable
Takes one into the realm of the indivisible.

* * * *
Why would anyone bring a child into a world
With which they have no real relationship?

* * * *
Ironic how those who breed nonchalantly
Accuse those who do not of selfishness.

* * * *
Does humanity have the capacity
To survive the world it is creating?

* * * *
We are so often judged by our acts,
But it is the clinging to their continuation
Which exacerbates the havoc and confusion.

* * * *
When the Monopoly game ends,
As all, by definition, eventually must,
Who will be around to start another one?

* * * *
Blow up ten thousand balloons,
And they will ever be filled with the same essence.
No matter the universe, what manifestation can ever be any different?

* * * *
There are many who choose to suffer in this world.
Are you one of them?

* * * *
The passions carry you away from your Self.

* * * *
With a flip in attitude the glass turns
From half-empty to half-full, or visa-versa.
How the mind sees its world involves a choice.
Few understand the power they wield.

* * * *
What do you truly, desperately, passionately need
From this world or any other?

* * * *
How many times in your life
Have you been mesmerized, as was Narcissus,
By the mask and costume you can never witness as others do?
What would it be like to never see another reflection,
Photograph or drawing of your face again?

* * * *
Where would you be if you were not here now?

* * * *
Slowly the mountain dissolves into the sea.

* * * *
How many are interested in their lives?
How many only pretend?

* * * *
Put aside that craving to be noticed,
As well at that same passion to notice.

* * * *
Is there any greater challenge in this world than contentment?

* * * *
What happens to the losers of the Monopoly game?

* * * *
Imagine telling all children that they are godness
Born into manifest creation, as uniquely similar as snowflakes.
That they may journey the spectrum from demon to angel
Until the dream entertains them no longer.
And when that moment comes, return to the source,
That immortal beingness from which no further birth is required.

* * * *
You have taught the scribe well.
His adventure nears its beginning.

* * * *
Your are the unknown
Imagining a knowingness
Entirely of your own making.

* * * *
Consciousness may be fun,
But the stillness is one.

* * * *
Transcend time.

* * * *
Attempts by mystics and seers to change this changing world
Are as vain as anything else the human mind can conceive.

* * * *
Mother Nature does not long tolerate mediocrity.

* * * *
You have yet to meet any,
Even the most evil force imaginable,
Who is not of the same oneness.

* * * *
Who is not enthralled with their own dream,
No matter how senseless, mundane or pathetic?

* * * *
Is any history really more than a fairy tale?

* * * *
We too often choose leaders
Whose greatest insight
Is into our greedy self-interests,
And the political expediency necessary
To climb the imaginary rungs to wealth and glory.

* * * *
What a wonderfully outrageous thought.

* * * *
That to which absent minds cling.

* * * *
What a mad calling to write so much foolishness.
The ocean waves laugh at the stream’s babble.

* * * *
Your pretending to exist
Must inevitably come to grips
With the realization that you cannot.

* * * *
No collusion speaks for truth,
Nor does truth need a voice.

* * * *
It does not have to happen overnight for it to happen.

* * * *
Just where do you think god is
If not within you and everything else?

* * * *
The message is quite simple.
We are all that which is godness.
Whether you see it or not,
How you choose to manifest your dream
Is the reckoning to which no other can be held accountable.

* * * *
Neither your dream nor my dream;
Just a dream dreaming itself real.

* * * *
Calling anything a waste of time
Assumes there’s time to waste.

* * * *
See yourself within the contextual relativity
Of every life ever lived, every form ever witnessed.
Infinity courses through your veins.

* * * *
So much euphemistic doublespeak.

* * * *
Serendipity is a wanderer’s art form.

* * * *
A lie is the gap between word and deed.

* * * *
Retire while still young
So that you can enjoy
Both work and play.

* * * *
If you can’t laugh and giggle,
What’s the point of existing?

* * * *
Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Who’s the vainest of them all?

* * * *
Peace can never be achieved
By minds caught in the vise of time.

* * * *
Suicide is the only way to choose
When and how you will die.

* * * *
The end of passion is a dying sages call eternal life.

* * * *
It is the insatiable yearning for union
That unfolds the journey of awakening.

* * * *
Even if another spent an entire life alongside you,
They would never see the universe you envision.
We are all very much alone in our bubbles of time.

* * * *
All is of the oneness.
How each moment is perceived
Is the heaven or hell of creation’s chronicle.

* * * *
The body is but a temporary cloak of imagination.

* * * *
Awareness is far too graceful to by bound by time.
Only consciousness is burdened by its own designs.

* * * *
You are the remedy to suffering.

* * * *
If you wish to understand anyone,
Examine their upbringing, family,
Friends, geography and mythos.
Walk a mile or so in their shoes.

* * * *
How challenging to not submit to excess.
What discipline to wander the middle way.

* * * *
Is it really worth winning at the expense of another?

* * * *
The scribe is but a pawn in this theater of consciousness.
These writings should never be taken as dogma.
They are but reflections of a vision.
Find your own way.

* * * *
All your ferocity, all your love
Is a reflection of the spectrum of all origins.
It is not an easy task to discern a resolution to the passions
The mind born of space and time musters into reality.

* * * *
Does any prophet or mystic ever easily submit to godness?
Is that resistance what it takes to sharpen the inner vision?

* * * *
Lord, how does anyone abide this world?
The greatest challenge is to discern the union
With the source which neither cares about nor feels
The insufferable torments of time’s too often bitter passage.

* * * *
Oh, to have never raised a pen to this unfathomable task.
So many saunters along beaches and mountain trails missed,
So many lips left unkissed, so many bottles of wines left undrunk,
For what purpose time holds forth, alas, this scribe shall never know.

* * * *
Such an unjust world in which to dance carefree.

* * * *
Fame, fortune and power are like picking your nose.
After awhile, they tend to get somewhat irritating.

* * * *
So many things to want.
How arduous to transcend them all.
How free do you desire to be?

* * * *
Awareness weaves through time untouched.

* * * *
You willingly make time
For that which you desire,
And withstand or ignore the rest.

* * * *
You need not know everything
To extrapolate the commonality.

* * * *
Are these writings any more or less vain
Than anything else in this mortal dreamtime.

* * * *
About many things you may be wrong,
But about one you are not.

* * * *
So it goes, baby, so it goes.

* * * *
Into the darkness you again spread your wings,
The journey’s end only just beginning.

* * * *
What adventures may come
For which we are ready as not.

* * * *
What does it mean to have fun, anyway?

* * * *
To which tomorrow were you referring?

* * * *
What’s interesting here
Is that you believe you have any say at all
In the choices I make.

* * * *
Entertain pain at your own risk.

* * * *
For memory’s sake, we do so many things better forgotten.

* * * *
It’s your illusion to dream through as you will.

* * * *
Awash in personalities,
The game is eternally afoot.

* * * *
History has the advantage
In that children will generally believe
Whatever they are told.

* * * *
Simple words for a complex time.

* * * *
There is no order but what the mind gives it.


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)
© Michael J. Holshouser 2009
World Rights Reserved

Chapter 182 - The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)

CLXXXII

Funny how so many things once so important
Are long since forgotten.

* * * *
Mediocrity is the vice of a dull mind.

* * * *
Life as most know it
Is about the differences
And the passions they inspire.

* * * *
Concerning yourself
With what others think of you
Is a sure path to hell.

* * * *
It is your destiny to see.

* * * *
Challenging not to be infected by the desires of others.

* * * *
What you seek in another
Is much more likely to be found
Within your Self.

* * * *
That’s capital-S Self
For those who haven’t noted the grammar.

* * * *
The sleeping giant awakens,
As vain as ever.

* * * *
Oblivion is without parables.

* * * *
It is only fragmentation of your own vision
With which you nee be concerned.

* * * *
How can this moment truly ever be
Any different than any other?

* * * *
Why try to be what you already are?

* * * *
How quickly nothing can happen.

* * * *
Discern that which neither birth nor death
Nor the illusion of time between can master.

* * * *
As ordinary as ordinary can be.

* * * *
The flaw of consciousness
Is that it inevitably believes
Whatever it imagines, real.

* * * *
Islands in time seeking passage to eternity.

* * * *
Is it not astounding
To have been born into this
Or any other existence?

* * * *
What a challenge it is to somehow adapt
To this wondrously complex, at times vicious world
Into which you have somehow been born.

* * * *
Do you ponder how your end shall come?
Will it be slow or long, soft or harsh,
Through friend, foe, or serendipitous vortex?
How amazing it is to have been born without recollection,
And to inevitably leave all that is known, unreconciled and incomplete.

* * * *
To slow till still, what disciplined attention is required.

* * * *
Never be absorbed by the personas
Who write words such as these.
The seers, the prophets, the dreamers,
The philosophers are only you in another form.

* * * *
The pain some must endure
Is beyond comprehension.
Is there any answer to why?

* * * *
Nothing is new.
Nothing is old.
Except maybe irony.

* * * *
Bumbling around in our heads till death do us part.

* * * *
How arduous the lesson
That you cannot really help anyone
Without their complicity.

* * * *
No matter the claim to power, fame or fortune,
Without that very simple, profound and vital breath,
You are but food for buzzards and worms.
All pride is adrift in the echoes
Of eternity’s dust bin.

* * * *
What vanity permeates so much
Of what is thought, said and done.
To discern that which is prior
Is like an onion peeling
Toward the humble core.

* * * *
Eternity is infinitely, unvaryingly timeless,
Without attribute, motion or notion.

* * * *
You have always been alone, and shall ever be
Despite all the contrary distractions born of time.

* * * *
All forms are eternal,
But none will last.

* * * *
Concepts are such a tenuous fling.

* * * *
In the dust storm of eternity
Eden is a temporary illusion,
Born of the mirage of mind.

* * * *
What is there to covet in this world
Or any other time and space continuum,
Which does not evaporate into formlessness?

* * * *
Who does not cast judgment after judgment
Across their world every day in every way?

* * * *
That which is termed creation is divine will
Cast upon the infinity into every possibility,
Every permutation, every form imaginable.
Like foaming spray from a crashing wave,
All individual creations are of the same one.

* * * *
It is very difficult to explain something
To someone incapable of listening.

* * * *
We have barely scratched the surface
Of all the ways consciousness
Is capable of polarizing.

* * * *
Remember, no matter how badly this day has gone,
You can always begin somewhat anew tomorrow.

* * * *
If it has to be done, it has to be done.
And if there’s no one else around to do it,
Then it probably means you’re the one.

* * * *
A bitch is a bitch not matter how rich.

* * * *
What a blatant mockery organized religion
Is of the teachers whose teachings they usurp.

* * * *
One by one, the drops of consciousness evaporate
Into the formless sovereignty of indivisibleness.

* * * *
Any part is merely imagined.
No divisions are real.
All is one.

* * * *
When solving any given problem,
The first challenge is to glean enough
To identify what questions need answering
And then to have a mind open and flexible enough
To discern and accept whatever answer comes.

* * * *
There is no world, no universe, no god to please
But your own imagination.

* * * *
As radar blips go in this universe,
The earth and the human species
Are as tiny and insignificant
As an anthill is to you
Across the world.

* * * *
Plan too much and you risk missing the serendipity.

* * * *
“Your” consciousness?
Don’t be ridiculous.

* * * *
Are you able to enjoy existence
Without becoming attached to it?

* * * *
Allow the breath to erase time.

* * * *
Two bullets smash into one another,
As do floating particles of dust.
The wind caresses a flower.
All just passing dreams
Of the same play.

* * * *
Paying or not paying attention
To the passing reflections of others
Is a choice born of free will.

* * * *
If you did not imagine time and space, would it exist?

* * * *
What is the craving for recognition
So inherent in the human mind?
What has made us so insecure?

* * * *
What is the quality of a mind so passionately caught up
In the hatred of others because of one difference or another?

* * * *
The princess and the pea is no fairytale.

* * * *
What an addictive force the elixir of pride and vanity.

* * * *
What movement could be gauged without the stillness?

* * * *
The manifest dream offers many things to know,
But once it is known that thou art that,
Of what importance can any difference make?

* * * *
Does the universe create you,
Or you the universe?

* * * *
Look to your own pride before judging another’s.

* * * *
Whoever says life is fair or just
Is a liar, or more likely
Just a damn fool.

* * * *
You will be free when you have nothing
With which you identify.

* * * *
You will perhaps project upon these words your own ends.
Just realize to whatever degree you are able,
That all ends are delusion.

* * * *
How can something that is not, want?
Takes some imagination.

* * * *
How ironic all this is.
People in every corner of this world
Wandering around exclaiming how wonderful life is
While they suffer in every way imaginable.

* * * *
The human species is quite expendable.
Call it cynical, pessimistic or nihilistic if you’re inclined,
But that’s the way it is.

* * * *
You will not go home until you’re done
With your attachment to consciousness.

* * * *
Notness is your true state.

* * * *
If not now, when?

* * * *
To keep it simple is, perhaps,
One of the most arduous things
To attempt during this brief sojourn
Through the inundation of material mania.

* * * *
How does it feel to be a guinea pig in a petri dish?

* * * *
There are physiological sensations
Habitually associated with fear, desire and anger.
Detach from the attachment to the body,
To see how temporal it truly is.

* * * *
Excessive dreaming may be a sign
That you are having trouble
Tuning in to reality.

* * * *
Breathe without doubt.

* * * *
Seek the imaginary kingdom of godness within.

* * * *
Humanity teamed up to survive,
But must now disband its destructive creation
For the same reason.

* * * *
You are not inquiring into this
For the sake of the many mirrors
Cropping up again and again before you.

* * * *
Abolish all authority within.

* * * *
There you go again, rushing off into time.

* * * *
To believe you are a separate soul
Is founded upon a conceptual source,
Which does not, cannot ever really exist
Except in the imaginary drama of the mind.

* * * *
Godness is the duality masking the inherent unity.

* * * *
A truly still mind is dead to time.

* * * *
The babble of humanity all distills into the cosmic hum.

* * * *
The rift between you and godness,
Created entirely by you,
Is so effortlessly mended.

* * * *
You are the causeless source of all cause,
The pointless meaning of all purpose.

* * * *
The only obligations you have are the ones you create
Either by yourself, or from the mirrors all about you.

* * * *
You stay on because the dancing play of the senses,
The movement of consciousness unfolding,
The mystery of time and space,
And the field upon which all is played
Is too enticing for all but the most aloof to resist.

* * * *
Consciousness is like a flower
Blooming anew every moment.

* * * *
You are, because it is your nature to be so.

* * * *
All these thoughts will mean nothing to you
Until the pain of separation is no longer remedied
By the distracting placebos offered in the mortal theater.

* * * *
Far too amazing to be real.

* * * *
Caught in the web of self-absorption again and again.

* * * *
The suffering herds you homeward.

* * * *
The Cheshire Cats appear and disappear at will.

* * * *
When you are no longer a part,
What is there to be but the whole?

* * * *
Do the words you utter match your deeds?

* * * *
You appear to be what circumstances dictate,
But you are not, have never been, and will never be.

* * * *
How easy it is to take oneself so seriously,
To feel so intensely about this or that
Concerning a locality, a world,
Or the universal dream that it all is.

* * * *
It will be whatever you imagine it to be
Until imagination’s end.

* * * *
As long as you participate as an attached persona,
You will travel the endless labyrinth of suffering.


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)
© Michael J. Holshouser 2009
World Rights Reserved

Chapter 183 - The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)

CLXXXIII

You are that from which all dreams are made.

* * * *
Why so much tyranny over one another?

* * * *
The unseen unity is the eternal constant.

* * * *
Assume it so,
And it will be so.

* * * *
Pride has countless tentacles
With which to drag anyone down.

* * * *
How fortunate the blind are to not see the insanity
Which humanity wields as such a destructive club.

* * * *
Watch for the weary and ease their pain
With the good news that they are one.

* * * *
Nature’s way is that the strong continue.
Humanity’s denial of that manifest law,
The pride which infects every aspect,
Steers it toward inevitable destruction.
What will the survivors learn from history?

* * * *
Desire pushes aside integrity.

* * * *
Examine the cruelty of your origin.

* * * *
We are the joke upon ours Self.

* * * *
Immortal soul, mortal body.

* * * *
To define yourself as a separate soul,
No matter the route or role of manifestation
Is an illusion at any level of existence across time.
You are the oneness, have always been, and will ever be.

* * * *
Unless human beings individually rise
To a collective responsibility, a collective harmony,
We well degenerate to a collective extinction.

* * * *
Fear, guilt and violence have always been used
By so-called civilized religious, political and social organizations
As means to control the masses and their primal instincts.

* * * *
All vain attempts of the temporal psyche
To pretend what the innumerable voices dictate
Is a ceaseless journey through suffering.
Discern the only true voice within,
Sure enough, strong enough
To resist all challengers,
And you will be free.

* * * *
No church, alter or idol
Will ever rise above the wonder
Of a simple glob of slime.

* * * *
Probably any manifest form or experience
Can be used as a parable, metaphor, or analogy.
The challenge is not being constricted or consumed by any.

* * * *
How did it feel when you were very young,
When those adults you looked up to
First betrayed the implicit trust?
How fragile, innocence.

* * * *
Does even a dragon take more than absolutely necessary?

* * * *
How few can let go
Of their conditioned patterns
Even for just a moment.

* * * *
The universe, prior to and beyond, is your Soul.

* * * *
A man’s actions are the keepers of his word.

* * * *
Life cannot be more than it is.

* * * *
Today’s resolve more often than not
Becomes tomorrow’s dim memory.

* * * *
Those who are successful in the world
Are the ones who only rarely ponder
The mystery in which they wander.

* * * *
If you look closely, you will discern
The you that you believe you are
Is merely the five senses functioning,
Given continuity by the fluid, meandering mind,
The many images to which consciousness is so attached.
How arduous to let them function without interference.

* * * *
To be what civilization implies is not necessarily a great creation.

* * * *
Examining one’s Self requires a detachment few can muster.

* * * *
The many voices tell you so many things matter.
The resulting conflicts within are barriers
To discovering what really does.

* * * *
Seeking nothing is very arduous.

* * * *
The observer and the observed
Are each unfolding simultaneously,
But only because the observer
Imagines it so.

* * * *
Why feel any obligation to manifest any particular way?
Fools are not bound by any history, including their own.

* * * *
Only you could play you.

* * * *
No now is any different than any other.
All are absolutely simultaneous.
The universe is happening
At the same point.

* * * *
Another lustful moment brought to you
By instincts beyond your control.

* * * *
Those who awaken into god consciousness
Really have no choice.

* * * *
How much of the chatter of consciousness is merely a result
Of the blood’s steady pulsation through the neural structure?

* * * *
All the myriad creatures
Have as much right to life and liberty as you.
It is only your temporal power to protect, destroy or manipulate
Which makes you believe yourself superior.

* * * *
You are truly that which has never existed.
What was never born can never die.

* * * *
The stillness is an indivisible no-man’s land.

* * * *
Consider these words
A gift freely offered
With the intent to perhaps aid
In easing for some the suffering of existence.
From one who has known it intimately,
And left few stones unturned.

* * * *
The rivalry with technology
Creates within us a great insecurity
And blinds us to that which we are truly capable.

* * * *
Picture yourself for a few moments
As the mosquito in the shadow of a hand
Smashing quickly down the decisive, mortal blow.
Life is so very, very tentative for all creatures great and small.

* * * *
Your fear of god is your own conceptual concoction,
Conditioned imagination supplied and reinforced in great part
By the many voices with which you were surrounded
From the very moment you were birthed.

* * * *
It is not: “You think, therefore you are,”
But: “you are, therefore you think.”

* * * *
You cannot easily serve two masters.

* * * *
Will humanity’s will to survive
Overcome the greed to which it tenaciously clings?
Only the monkey knows.

* * * *
Even if you had senses which felt the edges of the universe,
Even if you were god absolute, it would still be a dream.

* * * *
What a waste envying any other.

* * * *
Don’t be too hard on your Self.
You are already everything
You could ever hope to be.

* * * *
For a few moments,
Completely surrender everything
To the awareness, the essence of a still mind.
It is truly that simple.

* * * *
We are not bound by the script thus far written,
But through the continued collusion
To the delusion of time.

* * * *
These words are merely observations
Which you alone must test out against your own
To verify if they have any scientific veracity.

* * * *
Nationalism is simply the narrowing collusion of collective will.

* * * *
Another lie born of time.

* * * *
When you surrender to what you are
Rather than to merely what you desire,
The wings of a true human being
Begin to slowly unfold.

* * * *
The earth is as a grain of sand on a very long, very wide beach.
The entire human drama is laughable in such an infinite context.

* * * *
Trapped once again by thoughts
Over which you have so little control.

* * * *
Discern that the subtlety
Of complete surrender
Includes even your death.

* * * *
Rip off the mask, and you will find your Self in every other.

* * * *
From chaos, spontaneous diversity.

* * * *
Humanity’s long term survival strategy
Is proving to be exceptionally dubious.

* * * *
That for which you thirst and hunger
Is merely a state of consciousness.

* * * *
Whether budding, in full blossom,
Or growing bitter on the vine,
In relationships of any sort,
There are no one-way streets.

* * * *
You cannot disturb chaos.
It is the origin from which all is manifest,
The true order disguised by the veil of time and space.

* * * *
Can anything really be proven beyond a doubt?

* * * *
Let the dead slumber.

* * * *
Truth requires no history.

* * * *
What is written or transcribed
Is done so through the filter of another.
Be cautious about anything indirectly scribed.

* * * *
Prepositions are the precursors of delusion.

* * * *
Too many vain histories colliding
For there to be peaceful resolution.

* * * *
How many ways can it be said?

* * * *
We’re all related in the deep end.

* * * *
We’re all equal.
Some just have bigger clubs.

* * * *
To know godness, you may first need
To have an ultimate relationship with the devil.
They are really both of the same illusion.

* * * *
Everything written is intended to point towards unity.

* * * *
I am, therefore I laugh, I cry.

* * * *
The real revolution begins within you.
It comes from a very simple clarity.

* * * *
History only seems real
Because we are taught to believe
What historians have written.

* * * *
How could godness do anything
Except through your dream.

* * * *
How about we call Jesus “a” son of godness
Instead of “The” Son of God?

* * * *
Fools die young.

* * * *
It’s probably not your Self you take seriously.

* * * *
You cannot stop time,
Only its movement in your mind.

* * * *
To find the courage
To go beyond your conditioning
Is impossible for most.

* * * *
Too few even see the hell
We have in time fashioned of consciousness.
Rare are those who examine the world into which they are born.

* * * *
How many have died never fathoming
All their power, fame and fortune, all their vanity,
Is completely useless without even the most shallow breath?

* * * *
Your conception forms the nexus
In which consciousness takes root.

* * * *
Godness has been your birthright all along.
Few are told, few believe when they are,
Or so quickly forget when they do.
Ahhh, the mind is a mystery
So rarely understood.

* * * *
There is really no voice but yours.
You grant it many faces and many voices,
But it has ever, is ever, and will ever be, your own.

* * * *
You drift in the spacious nows of the river of time.

* * * *
Why fear your creations?
It cannot really touch the you
That is really, really you.

* * * *
You are the lead player in your temporal dream.
What part have you written for your Self this time?

* * * *
If you swing with the whimsical nature of the many voices,
You will never discern the freedom that is the given potential.

* * * *
Seeing and not seeing; same thing.

* * * *
Words such as these are written in many times and places
To aid those who are ripening toward the journey home.

* * * *
Your being concerned about what any think of you
Is the prison of the many voices created by you,
To which only you can find the key to freedom.

* * * *
It is the doubting forgetfulness of the scribe
That continues to bring forth these many words.

* * * *
God did not have to create hell.
It was done by the many narcissistic angels
Who believe themselves individual rather than indivisible.

* * * *
Until you can gaze down at your arms and legs,
And discern you have no face, you will not comprehend
That your true mystery is well beyond the body-mind identity.

* * * *
Curious how thoughts of pain and pleasure
Override one another on nearly whimsical notice.
It is the monkey house of any given mind.


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)
© Michael J. Holshouser 2009
World Rights Reserved

Chapter 184 - The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)

CLXXXIV

Try budging the universe even one iota,
And you’ll discern the limits of free will.

* * * *
So many consumed by this distraction or that.
The sage is consumed by nothing.

* * * *
Philosophy books are very useful
For making small fires in cold places.

* * * *
Leaders can’t lead where none will follow.

* * * *
The ancients were not so long ago.

* * * *
It is a very foolish thing to believe yourself
More intelligent than everyone about you.

* * * *
To wander through life unappreciated requires great tenacity.

* * * *
Weep for the children of tomorrow
Who must reap what we have sewn.

* * * *
All we are is consciousness battling over its own air.

* * * *
Beginnings, ends, and the processes between are obvious,
But what’s before and after, only speculation contends.

* * * *
Whether it’s more selfish
To bring children into this world,
Or more selfish to decline
Depends completely
On point of view.

* * * *
Indiscriminate experimentation in a chemistry lab
Is less than likely to have a healthy outcome.

* * * *
Life is like visiting a candy shop
From which you can never
Take anything home.

* * * *
If you really think god is outside you,
You probably haven’t read the definition.

* * * *
Jealousy is really an angry fear of loneliness,
The ignorant denial of the immortal aloneness.

* * * *
You seek joy, happiness, contentment, peace
Yet it remains illusive because you are unwilling
To surrender individuality to its indivisibility.

* * * *
If god is all, then the devil is just another mask.

* * * *
Your enduring life mission
Is to evoke your vision of godness
Upon this temporal dream of existence.
Come what may, that is enough.
Contrary to popular belief,
There is really no preferred way.

* * * *
We all prostitute ourselves in one way or another.
Some are just more honest about it.

* * * *
The human potential will ever be checked by its limitations.

* * * *
Why does science feel no need to prove the obvious?
Why are common sense and intuition given so little weight?

* * * *
Humanity has lost its rudder,
And is under full sail heading toward a cruel reef.
Meanwhile, the ship’s crew is quarrelling over whose god is number one.

* * * *
Once you turn your back
On the isolation of illusion,
What can in reality touch you?
The self-righteous are no match
For those steeped in righteousness.

* * * *
Make godness your vehicle.

* * * *
All the heavens and hells
Are an infinite array of carnivals
Playing out every vibratory potential
Look beyond all to the ever-present reality.

* * * *
Pleasure and pain will not mean much once you are dead.

* * * *
Real philosophy is a process of self-discovery,
Not merely an intellectual exercise.

* * * *
Except for its being three dimensions rather than two,
Is the light show we call life much different
Than movies or television?

* * * *
Everyone is delusional.
Normal is when enough people
Collude on an agreed-upon set of behaviors.

* * * *
Humanity doomed itself when it began to view nature as a resource.

* * * *
Take your destiny where you find it.

* * * *
The world is at peace with itself.
Humanity is the source of all havoc.

* * * *
Wake up to the fact
That godness is not in any way bound
Of the vagary of belief.

* * * *
Doubt too many ancients
Could have ever comprehended
The future you are living.

* * * *
When you journey to the core of the core,
You will see nothing is a real as real can be.

* * * *
Argue with the masses all you will,
You will never be heard by the herd.

* * * *
The dialectic entanglements
Of the illusions of time and space
Can never really compel anyone without
Some degree of voluntary complicity.

* * * *
The fearful, “What if…?”
Is a poor rationale
To do anything spiritual.
Fear of god, of heaven and hell,
Is the most inane reasoning
Any religion can impart.

* * * *
Life is meditation; meditation is life.
However you may wish to describe it,
It is the scalpel that puts an end to time.

* * * *
Amazing how nothing works for you.

* * * *
Paper, chalkboard or computer screen
Have no concern what is written,
Nor air what is spoken.

* * * *
In my universe, you are the illusion.
In your mind, I am the illusion.
So where is the reality
In any of it?

* * * *
The veil is relative to the witness.

* * * *
The ego is a tough nut to crack,
And even harder to chew.

* * * *
All philosophical questions end in suicide.

* * * *
The only real depth is unimaginable.

* * * *
Sorry, sorry night.

* * * *
Miscellaneous remains undefinable.

* * * *
An infinity of possibilities in any given moment.

* * * *
You really know nothing.
Get over it, and have a good day.

* * * *
Very much human, yet at the same time
Very much that prior to all frailty.

* * * *
The challenge is realizing eternity is not about time.

* * * *
The you that you think you are
Is not the you to which this speaks.

* * * *
Very committed to nothing in particular.

* * * *
Into nothingness, smoke casually wafts.

* * * *
Through pride, this mystery cannot be clearly discerned.

* * * *
What to do when nothing’s all there is to do?

* * * *
So young and already such an acute carving.

* * * *
Can it be truth if it’s merely belief?

* * * *
One light show or another plays out the day.

* * * *
Some villages never sleep.

* * * *
Where is the line between
So-called ancient and modern times?
Have we really advanced as far as our delusions?

* * * *
Duality is born of consciousness.
To discern clearly, free of separation,
Requires that thought be at rest,
That the knower diminish,
Leaving awareness
To travel eternally alone.

* * * *
The human race to oblivion.

* * * *
The burning desire to know godness
Devises so many vain conclusions.

* * * *
Pretty much said everything that’s needed saying.
The mystical uprising is gradually diminishing.
More quiet times in the remaining now.

* * * *
The boy scout who never was.

* * * *
Hard for most anyone to appreciate
What they don’t understand.

* * * *
Whose normal are we talking about?

* * * *
All truths but one are relative.

* * * *
Tasteless enough to be called art.

* * * *
Why is it we have such a strong need to name things?
To encapsulate the self-projected knowledge of this or that?
As if the vibration of any concept has any real or lasting meaning.

* * * *
What is life for most but a fragmented existence,
A never-ending distraction from the true indivisibility,
A complete waste of an opportunity to consciously discern
The inherent relationship of each and every part
To the infinity of the infinite oneness.

* * * *
Is there anything more deflating
Than the betrayal of someone
You would have trusted with your life?

* * * *
Seemed like just another day
Till that little piece of nothingness
Whipped into personal reality.

* * * *
If you are truly seeking the Way,
You must at some point deeply realize
That what is being talked about is not a path.

* * * *
To go beyond death,
You must fathom
It does not truly exist.

* * * *
The meandering mind can only be stilled
When desire for the menagerie ceases.

* * * *
So few discern contentment
Because they deceive themselves
Into believing more will make them happy.

* * * *
It is the White Rabbits of this bemused world who have crafted all the mayhem.
Their driven busy-ness, obligations to time, and need to be in control
Have all contributed to the fine mess we have synergized
In the collusion of our collective imagination.

* * * *
Do not allow idolatry in its countless forms
To distract your sovereign course home.

* * * *
Until you glance beyond the pleasure of the senses,
Until you can genuinely wonder why all this is happening,
You will not embark on the journey toward the death of identity.

* * * *
Contrary to popular estimation,
The eternal is not founded upon moral absolutes.
Godness is not bound by the parameters of human judgment.

* * * *
What can you truly kill?

* * * *
Please try to understand
That some of these aphoristic notions
Just popped out and sounded interesting at the time.
This has just been a process of unfolding
Until the empty middle is.

* * * *
It would be very challenging to turn back
Once the maze of inquiry is undertaken.

* * * *
Nothing to assume, believe or follow.

* * * *
It is resistance that binds.

* * * *
Die to everything.

* * * *
Must have been someone else’s lifetime.

* * * *
For all your potentials, you’re still nothing.

* * * *
Yes means yes,
No means no,
And maybe probably doesn’t mean yes.

* * * *
The reward of spiritual questing is simple change.

* * * *
That now you so painfully crave
Will be here and gone before you know it.

* * * *
It’s a god thing.

* * * *
You need not acquiesce to a geographical paradigm
Simply because you were born or live there.

* * * *
Death is the great purification.

* * * *
This momentary nowness is all it will ever be.
Any expectation of reward is delusion
At one of its many heights.

* * * *
Why choose to condemn yourself to a life of suffering?
Break free of the prison in which you so complacently abide.

* * * *
There is no way to turn back
Once the maze of inquiry is entered.

* * * *
It is your resistance that creates so much suffering.

* * * *
Each must find his own way alone.
For some it might be through austerity,
For others excess, and for some an even keel.
There are no divine parameters, no systems or principals,
But what is concocted of one’s own fated will.

* * * *
Question authority with your own.

* * * *
You are imprisoned in this light show
Until the vehicle’s mortal capacity expires,
And with it, all illusion of time and space.

* * * *
Once you realize the Buddha nature
You will discern it resides in many more masks
Than you ever imagined possible.
A true human being
Sees the connectedness of all.


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)
© Michael J. Holshouser 2009
World Rights Reserved

Chapter 185 - The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)

CLXXXV

You sort of outgrow yourself.

* * * *
We are inhabiting this dream of time
In most ludicrous, short-sighted way.

* * * *
Only the fools who read these words will understand.

* * * *
Once you realize the Buddha nature,
You will find it residing beneath many more masks
Than you ever imagined possible.

* * * *
Enlightenment is simply seeing
The interconnected nature of all patterning.
Liberation is simply giving oneself over to that nature.

* * * *
You are the only proof necessary.

* * * *
Greed creates an oppression sharing never will.

* * * *
What goes on behind the stare of the newborn
Before the mask begins acting out its will?
What is the sensory state of the unregulated mind
Unburdened by the patterning that marks childhood’s end?

* * * *
The pain comes from trying to hold onto
Or take back what can only be surrendered.

* * * *
Your desire and fears are generated
By your identification with the mind-body
Operating in the illusory field of time and space.

* * * *
The eyes with which you see
Are the windows to illusion.

* * * *
When you die to the dreamy known,
You become that which is unknowable.

* * * *
Alas, the opportunities of youth
Fade further and further into memory.

* * * *
The child is absolute witness
Untarnished by the many thoughts
With which they will soon be burdened.
Discern that clean slate and you will be home
To the conscious intent of awareness.

* * * *
Meditation is simply learning
To hold the will in abeyance
Until the silence is its own end.

* * * *
Grasping time is like trying to clutch a river in your hand.

* * * *
Humanity will eventually be forced to realign with natural law or perish.
Perhaps that “adjustment” will help bring about its true potential.
It is the scientific experiment of the manifest paradigm.

* * * *
Right action is not something forced or contrived.
It comes about naturally with alignment
To the timeless flow of eternity.

* * * *
How tiring the drama queens.

* * * *
You have never been
What you and your memories
Are inclined to believe.

* * * *
Mystics have no masters, only teachers.

* * * *
No earthborn knowledge will ever compare
With the transcendence of the eternal knowing.

* * * *
Death makes it all quite clear.

* * * *
This manuscript has written itself.
It is a holographic menagerie of thoughts
With each and every part a reflection of the whole,
All pointing to the you that you truly are.

* * * *
Amazing and pathetic as that may be.

* * * *
The seed is not the seedling,
Nor the seedling a tree, nor the tree a forest.
Endure time with serenity, for all things shall pass soon enough.
The process is far more relevant than any goal.

* * * *
Truth will be no matter your awareness.
You are merely an opportunity for its expression.

* * * *
Even if your eye could pan across
Every level of manifestation known to creation,
Every particle would be the illusory play of the same divine origin.

* * * *
How many put their head in the sand
Because they dare no examine the insanity
Humanity has managed to make of it.

* * * *
These thoughts are not about joy, love or comfort.
They are about truth, about the oblivion the essential truly is.
Whether joy, love or comfort come to pass is a byproduct, not an end.

* * * *
Herein is the disclosure of your unitary nature,
But only surrendering inquiry will make it yours.

* * * *
That was easy.

* * * *
Once the many voices merge into oneness,
All become vain, nonessential chatter.

* * * *
All suffering is the creation of mind.
Go beyond mind and its transitory nature
Will be clearly seen for what it is.

* * * *
Even “I Am” is a transitory concept.

* * * *
Within a deep pool of still water,
You merge into a different awareness of the body,
One really not all that different than the airy sea in which you daily exist.

* * * *
Until you discern with absolute certainty
That you are that which is godness,
You only know it as a concept,
As a thought born of dualistic separation.
Merge into the beingness, not an idea born of mind.

* * * *
The monkey with its hand in the baited coconut
Grips the prize with even more desperation as the machete nears.
Will it perish, or will it detach from its insatiable greed?

* * * *
What are you but a bag of assumptions?

* * * *
The history built of time by senses and minds
Is the dream we call life, and the theater
Within which we synergistically play
Whatever the collective imagination wills.

* * * *
What a challenge to see
All the masks of any given universe
Are merely vivid imagination.

* * * *
Time will wipe the slate clean
And all return to righteousness.

* * * *
In any given moment,
Heaven and hell
Are equally possible.

* * * *
Once a fork in the road is taken,
That is pretty much all she wrote
As far as going back is concerned.

* * * *
Just because somebody walks on two legs
Doesn’t necessarily make them a human being.

* * * *
Souls are not bound by age.

* * * *
Who would one drop of the ocean
Be any greater than another?

* * * *
There are more than a few people out there
More than willing to tell you how to live,
But there is really no set rulebook,
And you are free to manifest existence
In whatever way suits your indivisible nature.

* * * *
Are you reading what is actually written here,
Or merely projecting what you believe you understand
Upon a perhaps confusing mishmash of words?
Seek the vast subtlety to which they point
And you will discern their clarity.

* * * *
All you are is a mind full of arbitrary assumptions.

* * * *
How many times have you drifted off into oblivion,
Come to, and called it daydreaming?

* * * *
What a lonely, despondent, pathetic god.

* * * *
After all, it’s only death.

* * * *
One more thing you don’t even begin to need.

* * * *
Yeesch and by golly.

* * * *
Where’s a taco truck when you need it?

* * * *
The functional things in life should always come first.

* * * *
Alive on the page.

* * * *
No compromise is necessary.

* * * *
So cute that you would hardly even know
What to do with it anymore.

* * * *
Genetics aside, you’re fucked.

* * * *
Malls are about unrequited desire.

* * * *
To be content is to have little use for this world.

* * * *
The irony of humility
Is that if you think you are,
You aren’t.

* * * *
Eat it up, shit it out,
And buy, buy, buy between.

* * * *
Is contentment full or empty?

* * * *
Be cautious about getting between
Another creature and its meal.
Be even more cautious
If you’re the intended meal.

* * * *
Why would anyone read all this?

* * * *
Discern the ironic smile of it all.

* * * *
A simple cup of water will do.

* * * *
This old mind has had some interesting days.

* * * *
Just a good old zen guy
Born on the back of a forklift
Upon petals of a peach blossom.

* * * *
Wealth is an interior state of mind.

* * * *
One body bag said to another…

* * * *
Oh, great hunter, the trashcan is at the exit.

* * * *
On the better days, it’s just too crazy
To even begin to take it too seriously.

* * * *
Sometimes it’s best not to look down, or up.

* * * *
Yes, I will play your game,
But please, please, please,
Don’t ask me to believe it.

* * * *
Is it too much to ask from a chair or bed,
That one rise from it a bit more refreshed?

* * * *
What to do when your only ambition is to serve?

* * * *
One moment, here,
One moment, gone.
Time, life, is like that.

* * * *
Of never-ending amusement what some find attractive.

* * * *
Peace requires that all
See one another extremely clearly,
Which is, of course, all but impossible in this time
So let us continue ripping ourselves into itty-bitty little pieces,
Smaller than anyone would have ever dreamed possible,
Even in the most frightening nightmare imaginable.

* * * *
Never assume anyone has anything important to say
Unless they manage not to give it away first.

* * * *
Having your religion organized for you
Is handy if you really don’t want to think.

* * * *
If any philosopher wishes to have his entire existence humbled,
All his ideals quashed into unrecognizable wreckage
He should spend a day wandering a mall.

* * * *
Every life form has a peak to its flowering,
And from then on, whether quickly or slowly,
The remainder is an inevitable statistical decline.

* * * *
Is philosophy any more
Than the physiological outcome
Of a brain in great need of more oxygen?

* * * *
If you don’t mind sweating,
It really isn’t all that hot.

* * * *
All the ills of the universe need not be your problem.

* * * *
Nothing happens a lot.

* * * *
When nature becomes simply a resource,
You have seriously short-changed your existence.

* * * *
Your body is the universe.

* * * *
Simplistic minds seek simplistic answers.

* * * *
We all play out our vanity in one way or another.

* * * *
You mean god has nothing better to do
Than create some heavenly corporate hierarchy
That maintains endless scrolls of who’s naughty and nice,
And then imprisons them accordingly in one purgatory or another?

* * * *
Incredibly strange.
Who came up with this fiasco, anyway?

* * * *
Maybe tomorrow you’ll suffer such foolishness.

* * * *
If oneness was a gold sovereign,
On one side would be a benign, godlike figure,
And on the other would be imprinted the dark, menacing twin.
Yet despite the apparent duality, ‘tis the same gold coin all the way through.

* * * *
We plant the dead in garden burial grounds,
And from these eternal resting places
Come tales of heaven and hell
Only the so-called living bother to imagine.

* * * *
Is it hope or fear that inspire belief?
Is there really a difference?

* * * *
Of humanity it can be said,
They left Eden seeking paradise,
Only to obliterate what was always theirs
In ways only the deaf, dumb and blind can imagine.

* * * *
Do not allow any to deny your quest for sovereignty
For few will ever comprehend your vision
Or your desire to travel to its eternal conclusion.

* * * *
You seek the fountain of youth
Without ever noticing that within
You have not aged even a moment.

* * * *
These words came freely to the scribe,
And he passes them to all for the same price he paid:
The nothingness of his birth, his dream, and his divine recollection.


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)
© Michael J. Holshouser 2009
World Rights Reserved

Chapter 186 - The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)

CLXXXVI

Truth.
That which words can never tell.

* * * *
It won’t stop till it stops for good,
And even then, who knows?

* * * *
As short as life is,
Eternity is much, much shorter.

* * * *
How ridiculous not to at least like yourself.

* * * *
Egads, not again.

* * * *
Feelings?
As in stub your toe feelings?
Or the imaginary ones?

* * * *
All assumptions are unreal.

* * * *
There is irony in every part and particle.

* * * *
Done’s done as much as done can be.

* * * *
Words aren’t really of much use where you’re headed.

* * * *
Freedom is not about taking
Or doing anything you want.

* * * *
Doing nothing well is an art form
To which you cannot aspire.

* * * *
Pretty hard to find it
When you’re searching around
Everywhere else but this here this now.

* * * *
What an untenable grip time has upon the human mind.

* * * *
There is no your way, there is no my way.
There is only the Way, and the essence
From which all forms burst into being.

* * * *
Though history grips the human drama,
It need not be your personal burden.

* * * *
About a different purpose than most.

* * * *
Why would god be bound by man-built invention?

* * * *
A lot of stories don’t make it so.

* * * *
The circuitry of any given mind
Is such an endless maze of potential.

* * * *
Ironic how hellish “forever after” can be.

* * * *
Seeing is, of course, its own curse.

* * * *
How about you go somewhere else to get a life?

* * * *
Wherever you may wander,
It is ever the same ground
Through which all things pass.

* * * *
Neither ideas nor senses are ultimately real.
All are merely neurological metaphors
Washing about the play of light and shadow.

* * * *
Another sagging heap of flesh.

* * * *
God: An imaginary friend similar in nature
To the Tooth Fairy, Santa Claus and Harvey.

* * * *
You really are your own imaginary friend, or demon,
Whichever the case may be in any given moment.

* * * *
Resigned love.

* * * *
Can humanity every pull its mind together?
That is the research of time’s invention.

* * * *
In far too many words,
You are shown that there is a way,
What it is, what it is not, and that there is,
In reality, really no way at all.

* * * *
The sort of rascals who write these words
Are in the eye of every creature great and small
Across the dream of time’s fabrication.

* * * *
The first Christ was of a time long before the dawn of civilization,
When words were much younger and god was barely a concept.

* * * *
Those who fabricate spiritual hierarchies
Operate a theater only the delusional attend.

* * * *

Life is an opportunity to witness the dream of godness,
And if doubt-free, to return to the origin of all origins,
That to which even the greatest spirit can lay no claim.

* * * *
Birth me, kill me times beyond counting,
The essence is ever untouched, ever unborn,
Without any beginning, without any end,
Eternal prior to comprehension.

* * * *
These writings are playing games
With a mind beyond imagination.

* * * *
No void shall stand.

* * * *
One is one no matter how you add it up.

* * * *
God may seem a separate entity to those who will it so,
But those who see know they are the knowing
To which even god must ascribe.

* * * *
You will believe what you want to believe
Until you distinguish that all beliefs are imagined,
And none are required by those of the mind prior to time.

* * * *
The devil, maya, illusion, call it what you will,
Is afoot in every corner of the mind in time.

* * * *
Every mind is ensnared by the duality of illusion.
Even angels wander the vain corridors
Of the mirage they are given.

* * * *
Respect intelligent authority.

* * * *
You and a supporting cast of billions,
All part of the current crop of consciousness.

* * * *
The monkey grows weary.

* * * *
The sage cultivates no vain hope.
S/he is impartial to the passing show,
Observing all as one and one as all,
Creating and destroying as quickly
As the senses weave the dream,
As quickly as no-mind ever is.

* * * *
Can there ever be
Any more magical an existence
Than that offered to those whose destiny
Is to witness the grandest vision?

* * * *
But for your witnessing it,
Would anything ever exist?

* * * *
That which is most necessary
Is the space at the center
That makes the wheel possible.

* * * *
What greater evil than total self-absorbed isolation?
What greater good than utter self-annihilation?

* * * *
The universal mind is that oneness
Beyond the deceptive veil of time and space,
That magical source from which all diversity originates,
But to which few are fated to consciously return.

* * * *
Gardeners must be brutal in order to manifest their vision.
Eden will be pruned of that which does not serve
The enigma of its pointless purpose.

* * * *
The bubble of consciousness in which each life dwells
Is an illusory universe, an imagined state
To which few take a needle
And pop and pop
Until the popping’s done.

* * * *
Fortunes are made, fortunes are lost,
But true wealth is beyond all counting.

* * * *
Your date of expiration is written in one wave or another.

* * * *
The flaw of consciousness is that it came into being at all.

* * * *
Looking ahead, it’s called free will.
Looking back, fate.

* * * *
You are a drop of the ocean without measure.

* * * *
Free will falls into a very narrow sliver of fate.

* * * *
Others will see you as they want to see you,
Until you show them otherwise.

* * * *
Each and every breath
Is the playground of birth and death,
And everything between.

* * * *
To what ends the quest for money will take
Is an endless array of woeful tales.

* * * *
Your universe is as arbitrary as mine.

* * * *
Perhaps no one is innocent,
But some are much more guilty than others.

* * * *
Unwarranted vanity.

* * * *
How many ways consciousness devises to torture itself.

* * * *
The challenge is seeing that everything you know
Is based on one arbitrary assumption or another.

* * * *
So much ignorance to know.

* * * *
Paradigms are changed one mind at a time.

* * * *
Life is a process that sometimes
Forces you to let go of what was,
And learn a new ways of seeing.

* * * *
An arbitrary conundrum.

* * * *
So many adventures outside the cave of origin.

* * * *
The glory days of youthful exuberance gradually succumb
To the mortal realization that many journeys
Lead to painful endgames.

* * * *
You are
Therefore you must be
That You Are.

* * * *
Contrary to all delusions,
Humanity is not in charge here.

* * * *
In this world there are those who give and those who take.
Too few find the balance between.

* * * *
Self-absorbed for so little reason.

* * * *
What do you touch, see, taste, smell and hear
But the dust of the cosmic storm?

* * * *
Tombs and ceremony comfort the living.
For the dead, any dumpster will do.

* * * *
Where is the mind free of craving?
Free of gain and loss?
Free of the desire for security?
Residing in the indescribable oneness
Prior to the hellish confines of space and time.

* * * *
Madmen know no limits.

* * * *
Many seem so sure on one thing or another in this world.
They strive and measure from dawn till dusk,
And in their dreams as well.
But others want little
From this mortal existence
And doubting all they sense, approach
With dust-like humility that which erases all doubt,
Eventually disappearing into the oblivion, anonymous and free.

* * * *
Who craves experience as if it really matters?
Who dwells in time’s play of space?
Who dreams the dream,
Scripts the play,
Creates the set,
Delivers the dialogue,
And sallies toward vain conclusion?
Who is the weaver of this imaginary concoction?

* * * *
If you are one who asks how to serve this needy world,
Pause, be silent, patient, attentive to the moment.
What is required will unfold without effort.

* * * *
You may play it out in any way you choose,
Yet there is really no choice in any matter,

* * * *
Times have always been a-changing,
Yet what is truly the difference
Between new and old?

* * * *
Those destined to see
Will see no matter the cost.
Fate is written by the inclination
That sustains any given day-to-day.
You would not be reading this
If the deepest longing
To ascertain that which you truly are
Was not incomprehensibly driving you toward
The most obvious, most simple, most profound reality.
Many are called, but few are chosen.

* * * *
Mystics are the jesters of play.

* * * *
Future and past are the collective imagination.

* * * *
The lightening storms of thought
Can be creatively pleasurable when focused
And painfully destructive when not.

* * * *
Some are not easily discouraged,
While others can barely stand
Facing another moment.

* * * *
Poor Jesus.
If he only knew what a charade
His memory has become.

* * * *
Why don’t you come up with a real problem for a change?

* * * *
Never assume a good memory implies intelligence.

* * * *
Death tends to bury all secrets.

* * * *
Watch the watcher watching
And you will one day discern
That you are it and it is you,
The witness to all stories,
Be they the fires of hell
Or the bliss of heaven.

* * * *
The challenge to living a long life
Is surviving all the errors of judgment.

* * * *
There is no supreme being,
Only the essential nature
From which all being springs.

* * * *
Master of your fate?
Tell it to the Reaper.

* * * *
Too loud and obnoxious to hear,
Much less understand.

* * * *
You can only care for so many things.

* * * *
The only thing to figure out
Is that there’s nothing to figure out.


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)
© Michael J. Holshouser 2009
World Rights Reserved

Chapter 187 - The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)

CLXXXVII

One thing you cannot protect another from is their fate.

* * * *
Excess extract many prices.

* * * *
Fake brick does not for historic monuments make.

* * * *
Me likes me steak bloody rare,
And me religion bloody unorganized.

* * * *
Ironic that strength
Is so often sustained
By so much weakness.

* * * *
What is the dust
But the speck
Within your mind?

* * * *
No mortal school of thought
Can offer more than illusory degrees.
There is no diploma in the quest for That I Am.
When all doubt is gone, when grace alone sustains you.
You will have all that is necessary.

* * * *
How enamored we are
With bodies many functions,
Blind to the source of their illusion.

* * * *
Jesus died 2000 years ago.
He is not coming back,
And even if he did,
He would be killed again.

* * * *
Why do religions create so much fear of the origin?

* * * *
Soliloquies of no-mind
Wander through the maze,
To what end only time will tell.
How many minds will be touched,
This mystic cannot know, for in this eye,
Reality has scattered all points of reference.
There is naught but one solitary way,
Untouched by any ray of light
Or shadow of darkness.

* * * *
How hollow-sounding even a stadium full of applause can be.

* * * *
You are, after all, only a temporary reservoir
For water, air and sundry other elemental combinations
In an infinitely indivisible, holographic co-mingling.

* * * *
It is the form which is godness,
It is the essence.

* * * *
God is a placebo for those lacking
The courage to stand alone.

* * * *
Practice letting go of everything till everything’s gone.

* * * *
Consciousness is the delusion.

* * * *
The invention of god is a duality that cannot be.

* * * *
Life is a process of gradual disintegration.

* * * *
Whatever it is, you must also be.

* * * *
You can opt for security and die bored,
Or adventure and live forever.

* * * *
Unfashionably punctual.

* * * *
Who listens to the ones who are silent?
Who sees past words into the imperishable depths?
Most are transfixed by those who babble much and say nothing.

* * * *
The universe is just one big little dust ball.

* * * *
All of these words, and not a bit closer to it than a newborn.

* * * *
Sometimes others get really angry at you
Because they cannot comprehend
What you are really saying.

* * * *
How simple the mystery is; how complex the mind.
The latter must submit to that which is prior
Or there can be no reconciliation.

* * * *
There is nowhere to lead you but home,
Nowhere to point to but within.

* * * *
Why are so many called, yet so few chosen?

* * * *
“There must be more to life than this.”
The epiphany of all souls who wander.

* * * *
Pain and pleasure are both attributes of the body-mind container.
They cannot touch that which is sacred beyond all measure.

* * * *
These words are a gift
To those who are attuning
To that which is the only one,
That which is prior to all sanctions,
That which is beyond all assessment,
That which removes all divisions,
And makes all parts whole.

* * * *
Come into this mind
And it will annihilate you.
Be grateful for the opportunity.

* * * *
You need not be a harbor of passion.
The choice to suffer is not required.

* * * *
Some must wander through the maze of hell
To merge into that which knows naught but bliss.

* * * *
What a mystery this all is.
How challenging to wash away
All the vanities and passions
Which cloud the vision
Of its true beauty.

* * * *
What is it about some bodies that attract you so,
And others that make you gag at the thought.

* * * *
If heaven is a corporate hierarchy, then be a doorman.

* * * *
There is really no boundary between you
And the edges of space and time
Devised by the imagination
Within your mind.

* * * *
Few are prepared to hear what these words truly inspire.

* * * *
You will be right with god
When you are right with yourself.

* * * *
Society has corrupted you with the guilt and shame
Which make you susceptible to its imprisoning rule.

* * * *
No matter what you do,
It is over before you know it.

* * * *
Who is not the source?

* * * *
Any given personality
Is merely a windswept reaction
To the loss of innocence.

* * * *
The rug is likely going to be pulled
On the drama sooner or later.
When is the only question.

* * * *
Play your Self
Without a hint of doubt,
Without even a trace of hesitation.

* * * *
If you love your children, don’t bring them here.

* * * *
Every garden needs a pruning,
And ours is long overdue.

* * * *
Behavior operates within the limits
Set by natural law and individual perception.
Societal norms are no more than statistical collusions.
Madmen and sages wander freely through that
Which they know is only imagined.

* * * *
Why keep spinning the lies?

* * * *
Another bother to add to the repertoire of pain.

* * * *
The clock goes round and round,
And we call it time.

* * * *
How prone to delusion the passionate mind.

* * * *
Real doubt waylaid only by truth.

* * * *
Ironic how insistence on personal freedom so often denies it for others.

* * * *
Most revolutionaries revolt only to solidify their own position.
Their interest in “the people” is merely pragmatic artifice.

* * * *
Society does not easily tolerate the mind
That discerns the deception at its core.

* * * *
The inner eye awakens as a flower flowers.
Not a moment before, nor a moment after.

* * * *
So many seeking verification
Of that which they already are.

* * * *
Dwell on the infinite nature,
And it will become as apparent
As apparent can ever be.

* * * *
To be content with your lot,
To expect nothing and accept all,
That is the road to salvation.

* * * *
Most use their minds to achieve narcissistic purpose,
Rarely comprehending the underlying nature
Which concocts all possibilities.

* * * *
Only through doubting introspection
Can you discern that which you truly are.

* * * *
Are you the thoughts about yourself,
Or the thought itself?

* * * *
How absorbed we are in these bodies
And all the cravings they sustain.

* * * *
When you finally stare into the eyes of godness,
They will be born of your own.

* * * *
Objectivity is ever tainted
By the mind of the observer.

* * * *
The manifest is by its very nature
A limited function of time and space.
Mere specks in the infinite sea
Of unmanifest reality.

* * * *
What you name is your own projection,
But who is the projectionist?

* * * *
How long is long?
How short is short?
How real is real?

* * * *
The eye of insight is that which sees the unseen.

* * * *
To muster the greatest courage,
Discern the source of fear itself.

* * * *
Continuity, the greatest illusion.

* * * *
Diamonds are nothing
Compared to the jeweled facets
You are capable of discerning.

* * * *
Why do you deny your Self?
All your arguments for and against
Delineate your limitations.

* * * *
The true frontier is within.

* * * *
Joy awaits you in oblivion.

* * * *
You inherit the kingdom
When you have the courage and wisdom
To rule it.

* * * *
The sugar is tasteless,
Your it is the sweetest thing
You can ever know.

* * * *
You are the nothingness that knows.

* * * *
Like the candle, you are sacrifice to the light.

* * * *
When identity ends, what remains
Except that which you ever are.
Ever have been, ever will be.

* * * *
From nothing, everything.

* * * *
Meaning and purpose?
This is it.

* * * *
You will play out your existence
In the clarity your awareness allows.

* * * *
Have no thought of what the world thinks of you
As much as what your awareness brings to it.

* * * *
Your intuition takes you there.

* * * *
What a complex game each must learn to play
In order to survive this world’s often harsh reality.

* * * *
Never be so attached to anything that you fear its loss.

* * * *
How can what is so obvious be denied?

* * * *
How can nothingness ever be touched?

* * * *
You trying to figure out you
Is impossible through any play of words.
You are the stillness prior to all symbolic attributes.

* * * *
The challenge before the human drama
Is to fashion all the divisive free will
Into a unified vision of diversity.

* * * *
Not likely, but what the hey.

* * * *
The more hats you were,
The more easily they come off.

* * * *
The innocence of the sage
Is simply the knowing not knowing.

* * * *
There is an infinity of possibilities
To be played out as we will.
What is our will is the only question?

* * * *
Peace is a rare dream.

* * * *
Trust a thief to know
How constant
Truth is.

* * * *
You really do not know more than shit.

* * * *
Without the many actors,
There would be nothing to direct.

* * * *
Discipline is best in moderation.

* * * *
Who cares who you were in some previous lifetime?
You were probably just as self-absorbed
As you are in this one.

* * * *
What is there to be vain about this body
Once you see it as function rather than form.

* * * *
A sense of godness
Tends to make one responsible
For each and every part.


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)
© Michael J. Holshouser 2009
World Rights Reserved

Chapter 188 - The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)

CLXXXVIII

Much less bother
Dealing with things as they are
Than always wishing it was some other way.

* * * *
By this scribe’s hand, or one of many others,
Those who truly seek will find that me in all.

* * * *
Discard all hope for security.

* * * *
‘Tis the reborn who discern heaven.

* * * *
The world is a maelstrom of invective.

* * * *
Life can be a nightmare of effort-filled decisions.

* * * *
A blind man’s world is so immediate.

* * * *
Your political correctness means nothing here.

* * * *
Beckon the world, and it shall find you in many ways.

* * * *
Presence is a state of mind.

* * * *
What a cruel undertaking to dispatch any child
From the dreamless void to this harsh world.

* * * *
I am come.
The end of time is near.

* * * *
Miss the point, and pointlessness is all there is.

* * * *
What will be will be, until it is not.

* * * *
So many universes wandering this way and that.

* * * *
How could there ever be a supreme being?

* * * *
Amazing that it took so long to become obvious.

* * * *
Tales of irony fill every life.

* * * *
Yee-haw, learned a new word.

* * * *
You are life and death
Intertwined in each and every moment
Through which eternity consciously spins the dreaming.

* * * *
Each of us within our own universe
Defines the norm, the dualistic black and white.
Each is the law, no matter how much influenced by another.

* * * *
The sage pushes back all boundaries
Until all need for imagined safety dissolves
Into the unborn origin from which all forms spring.

* * * *
Everyone operates on a scale bound by a set of limitations.
Jesters wander the theater however they please.
Picking their way as a musician would
Along the strings of a banjo.

* * * *
All this is just another batch of conceptual entertainment
For an unborn audience dallying between birth and death.

* * * *
Funny how so many who see are put on pedestals
By those who will never begin to comprehend
The inner revolution truly being brokered.

* * * *
Ironic that the happy ending idealists so crave is prior to all ideals.

* * * *
All your passions toward god,
Be they love, fear, anger or any other
Are merely the restless streaming
Of conceptual masturbation.

* * * *
Once you discern what you truly are,
Exploring whatever you wish
In whatever way you will
Becomes the immortal option.

* * * *
See me as you will, I am not.

* * * *
You know you have it when your soul
Can rest easy in heaven or hell.

* * * *
All life forms have been fading in and out
Since long before time’s conscious beginning.
In the no-mind of a mystic, all birthing and deathing
Intermingles like the drops of a mighty river.

* * * *
Death is not what you think it to be.

* * * *
And the worshipping masses
Suckled the golden greenback.

* * * *
From young and supple to old and unyielding,
Life’s endgame is harsh no matter the play.

* * * *
It matters not whether you condemn the flesh
Or worship it with every sort of passion,
The worms will have final say.

* * * *
Funny how some people talk as if you can’t hear.

* * * *
How many at death’s door would without hesitation barter
All their possessions, titles, and every sort of promise
For even a handful of strained, painful breaths.

* * * *
For all great and small, havoc and destruction ensues
When the balance no longer sustains their presence.

* * * *
Ironic that so many scavengers
Thrive in humanity’s dominant shadow.

* * * *
How do any learn balance and moderation
But through considerable and often painful lessons.
And those who do not catch the drift flounder in a sordid hell.

* * * *
Discerning that you are truly That I Am
Makes you all things across the eternal play.
There is no need to make believe an exalted path.
You are all glories, and beyond all need of them.

* * * *
Those to whom power, fame and fortune is all
May call these words naïve, yet in truth,
It is they who are blind to reality.

* * * *
Been there, done that.
What more, what more
Must be endured.
What more.

* * * *
The true you is unmoved
By all cause and effect,
All dreams born of time
And the infinity of space
Through which it wanders.

* * * *
Nothing has been held back herein.
This channel’s revelation is completely disclosed.
More than a little repetitious, but oh well.
To what end only time will tell.

* * * *
The seekers are many, the finders few.
Finders, seekers, losers, weepers.

* * * *
Absurdity.

* * * *
When dust accepts as true the dusty trail,
Sorrow and misfortune play the dusty tune.

* * * *
That so many believe heaven is god’s corporate headquarters
Shows how completely twisted this carnival has become.

* * * *
Each draws to them Selves that which they seek.
Tacking from hell to heaven and beyond
Is an immortal vocation.

* * * *
Life is full of best guesses, percentages,
Batting averages, and statistical probabilities.
There may be someone journeying life error-free,
But you probably have yet to meet them.

* * * *
Who was it when who came up with the delusion
That happiness could ever rely on another?

* * * *
The heart true and unwavering is a rare find.

* * * *
Perfection is just another concept having only one reality.

* * * *
One instant is like any other
As time and space collapse
Into the one-pointed nature
From which consciousness
Issues its illusory universe.

* * * *
Another dharma bum,
Useless to all and none.

* * * *
The stone cutter
Takes down the mountain
One cut at a time.

* * * *
All happens because you think it happens.
History is merely the sport of consciousness.

* * * *
The birth seed is the food,
And food expands into destiny
Until it, too, feeds another.
And on and on and on
Life carries on.

* * * *
Human beings judge themselves
Far more often and harshly
Than any god has need.

* * * *
Every creation seeks a witness,
So godness created of itself a vast array of forms.
Oneness imagining its Self into many
Playing it out as they will

* * * *
With every rise must come a fall,
The merry chase of which
Only time can call.

* * * *
The so-called space between the ears really is just that,
Despite all the goopy gray matter by which it is hidden.

* * * *
Only fools disregard the knock of opportunity.

* * * *
From the first day of your existence,
You have been fed the lie that you are a mind-body identity,
And that you are to participate according to the notions of the given geography.
It is the yoke of human consciousness, which few even discern,
And fewer still ever completely throw off.

* * * *
To judge yourself in any way
By what the many others think of you
Is an obvious error of judgment.

* * * *
Are you humanness experiencing godness,
Or godness experiencing humanness?
Both or neither?

* * * *
So many will say or do just about anything
To get even a little attention.

* * * *
All the concepts are just monkey babble
Deigned important by the babblers
Within their own word-filled universes.

* * * *
Babblers Anonymous.
“I am a babbler…”

* * * *
The end of time is an end of mind.

* * * *
The essence of cruelty is a seed in every mind.

* * * *
The pain so many must endure is incomprehensible.

* * * *
That your pattern seems so rigid
Is entirely a fabrication of imagination.

* * * *
If any form was truly important to god,
Wouldn’t it be permanent?
But none are,
So what does that tell you?

* * * *
A vehicle that parasites use and claim to be.

* * * *
Your persona is an exhibition of the desire,
Fear, anger, violence, suffering,
Confusion, joy and love
Residing within.

* * * *
No matter how many drops flow from mountain to sea,
The aloneness of one permeates all.

* * * *
No matter any apparent difference,
Ultimately, whatever I am,
You must also be.

* * * *
The politics of idolatry knows only bounds.

* * * *
How can you ever hope to see
If you are blinded by fairytales?

* * * *
Death is your constant companion.

* * * *
What have you done to your garden?
Whatever became of the virtue
Of your ancestors?
If such a thing even existed.

* * * *
Is there anything more attractive
Than a stretch-marked womb
Sagging over tight jeans?

* * * *
If you only accept what others feed you,
You will miss the real feast.

* * * *
What you really are at the core
Of any given creation
Is the only permanence.

* * * *
What pride does a newborn have?

* * * *
What need have the unborn for sustenance?
It is the food-body, the play of the manifest consciousness,
Not the Soul, that dreams the many hungers.

* * * *
What do honor or dishonor or laughter or tears
Matter to the dead?

* * * *
Fame, fortune and power
Tend to harness you in time.

* * * *
What value a coin of the realm to a pile of dust?

* * * *
You, you’re the one,
You are the only one.

* * * *
There are not too many real mirrors lurking about at this writing.

* * * *
Shut the other out of your existence.

* * * *
The intention here is for that
Not long for this world
Nor any other.

* * * *
You are that beyond all measure
From which all measure springs.

* * * *
When children have nothing better to do
Than squander their parents’ affluence,
The decadence weakens the resolve
Which gathered it in the first place.

* * * *
Amazing is it not that a seed from your mother’s womb
Expanded into an awareness which gradually
Became the food-body consciousness
You think of as the individual you.
Now, what truly makes you
Any different than any other seed?

* * * *
The human mind, in all it’s glory,
Has taken the simplicity of the obvious,
And made it into a complex, rather
Ridiculously monstrous affair.

* * * *
Just another self-absorbed loony-tune.

* * * *
There are no shortage of people, well-intended or not,
Only too willing to tell you what to do with your life.

* * **
If god cannot take a joke,
Then why bother creating one?


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The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)
© Michael J. Holshouser 2009
World Rights Reserved