CXXIV
Each
day cuts the pie of your life
Into
thinner and thinner portions,
All
passing more and more quickly
In the
most momentary eternal sense.
* * * *
What is
the body, truly, but a fleeting bag of protoplasm
Playing
in the time and space born of consciousness?
* * * *
Discern
within the union of know and unknown.
* * * *
You are
in a no-deposit, no-return reality.
Spend
it all in whatever way you will.
* * * *
You are
going to die anyway,
So why
be afraid of letting go now?
* * * *
See the
relativity of your measure.
* * * *
Organized
religion is an oxymoron.
* * * *
Another
one-man revolution.
* * * *
Notoriety
in another’s head is meaningless
But for
imagination’s insatiable craving
To
override its eternal aloneness.
* * * *
What a
fool be the fool
Who
pens these thoughts.
Where
do they appear from?
To what
end do they travel,
These
words declaring
The
silliness of time?
* * * *
By not
succumbing to fear of loss,
You
gain control of desire passionate flame
From
which all action springs eternal.
* * * *
You
must learn in order to remember to know.
* * * *
Is
inner vision left or right eye dominant?
* * * *
Who
writes these thoughts but the most real you?
* * * *
How
much of anything do you remember
Of what
you supposedly learned?
What do
you really know
About
anything?
* * * *
There
is nothing more.
This
moment is all you ever get
No
matter who, what, where, why, when
Or how
you may be.
* * * *
Patterns
can be plundered.
* * * *
How
many still remember how to plant a seed
And grow
a successful, healthy garden?
Don’t
forget, in the final analysis,
A
computer can’t feed you.
* * * *
No
bubble can avoid the burst.
* * * *
Follow
the babbling bubbles of thought
Until
their source becomes all-consuming.
* * * *
Walk
the fog.
* * * *
Life is
short and getting shorter.
* * * *
You are
your own moral accounting.
* * * *
Do you
live your life for what others think.
* * * *
If it
makes money, it’s good.
If not,
well, it gets its own category.
* * * *
Positive
and negative intertwine
Like
snakes consuming each other.
* * * *
The
ultimate weaning.
* * * *
Nothing
to pray for.
It’s
already a done deal.
* * * *
Don’t
live your life for a mirage.
* * * *
Environmentalists,
despite all their good intentions,
Are
like dogs barking at the moon.
* * * *
Some
will not be confined
By the
narrowness
To
which others subscribe.
* * * *
What
battles will you wage with the windmills today, Don Quixote?
* * * *
There
is an unmatchable contentment
In the
integration of mind, body and heart.
* * * *
Every
pleasure eventually collects its asking price.
* * * *
It is
arduous to let go of everything all the time,
One of
those unnecessary tasks to most.
Why
would you but for your own amusement?
* * * *
Discern
eternity
And
feel the striving
Of vain
personal ambition
Exit
your bones.
* * * *
We each
have our brief little time.
Each
unique, each very much the same.
* * * *
You
would probably laugh if an amoeba
Claimed
an aristocratic bloodline.
* * * *
Spiritual
middlemen
Are the
anachronisms
Of
geographic attachment.
* * * *
The
vampires delude themselves and the masses,
But the
seers only laugh at their vain foolishness.
* * * *
The
unwitnessed tree falling in the forest
Knows
well the sound of its crashing.
Every
life form is its own witness.
* * * *
As to
death’s knock,
Sooner
or later, despite
All
your vain mortal appeals
Something
will catch up to you.
Each of
us is very much a equal part
Of the
statistical nature of all measurement.
* * * *
Remember,
it’s a sum-zero theater.
* * * *
We are
not really human beings.
We only
think we are.
* * * *
Purpose
seems to have a great relativity about it,
Largely
powered more than a pinch of vanity.
Does
anyone stay the same for more
Than a
few moments of time?
* * * *
Exclusivity
is an act of insecurity.
* * * *
Amazing
what neuron trails can accomplish.
And to
think that the entire human drama
Is
founded entirely upon their relativity.
* * * *
Time’s
origin is in consciousness.
The
absolute is not burdened
By the
clock on the wall.
* * * *
Surrender
unconditionally.
* * * *
Humble
your Self.
* * * *
Another
no-brainer.
* * * *
So many
perceptions melding
Into
the emptiness of none.
* * * *
So many
always trying to be
Somewhere
or something else.
* * * *
If you
only see what others tell you to see,
Your
awareness will remain very finite.
* * * *
Don’t
pay attention to the scribe.
Just
let the magic of the words
Work
their subtle purpose.
* * * *
What
frightening forms flesh can take.
* * * *
Only
conceit makes you think you are so unique.
* * * *
You
will feel complete only when totally present.
* * * *
Don’t
be lonely, be alone.
* * * *
It
often seems that any given face and body
Takes
on the attributes of its personality-soul.
* * * *
To
survive a man’s brawn,
What
could women do
But
grow in wile?
* * * *
Your
breath is the only continuity there is.
* * * *
How
difficult to lead wisely.
* * * *
May
have thought I was saying something else.
* * * *
Who
will notice those who offer them nothing?
* * * *
Power,
fame or fortune is no match for death.
* * * *
Fool-at-large
journeying through eternity in time.
* * * *
You
believed, you hoped, you prayed
That
someday you would have it all,
And now
you’re dead is as dead does.
What
happened to all those dreams?
* * * *
Harsh
and soft are not really all that different.
* * * *
Chances
are you do not see me the way I do you.
* * * *
Words
have so little stamina without vanity’s support.
* * * *
How you
dread the effort sometimes.
* * * *
Another
flat, firm, healthy pelvis,
Breeding
ground for the next generation.
* * * *
As if
any other could give you this contentment.
* * * *
You
play along as if you belong in this world,
Breaking
as often as you can remember
To
remember what you really are.
* * * *
Why
would anyone want to sit in judgment of another?
* * * *
Eternal
infinity, with all its parts,
Washes
clean of any taint, despite
All
appearances to the contrary.
* * * *
Funny
how practically anything can be misinterpreted.
* * * *
Even
education can only accomplish so much
Against
the relentless tide of human ignorance.
What
can you expect from two-legged animals
With
only two thumbs, a marginal frontal lobe,
And the
remnants of a lizard’s disposition?
* * * *
So many
memories to carry
And
someday forget.
* * * *
How
fortunate those who are spared
The
true horrors of mortal existence.
* * * *
Even
the so-called enlightened
Must
play out the theater real,
And
perhaps often wish it were.
* * * *
The
wash of time cleans us all.
* * * *
How
formidable life can be.
So much
endurance required.
* * * *
Step
out, take many chances.
Settle
only when you’re ready.
Dance
till your grave is filled in.
* * * *
No
reason to grow up, Wendy.
This
world needs more children.
* * * *
With
each breath, gather in, then surrender.
See the
mind-identity, allow its dissolution.
* * * *
Ignore
the senses and the mind opens to the eternal way
Beyond
the chattering forest of words and meanings.
* * * *
You
suffer to the level of your attachment.
* * * *
It is
so incredible how we box ourselves in.
* * * *
Concept
and experience are eternally intertwined.
* * * *
You can
only communicate the concepts you know.
* * * *
We done
fucked up big-time,
And our
unenviable progeny
Are
going to pay a heavy price.
* * * *
The slaves
who work harder get rewarded.
* * * *
Why are
we so afraid of this world?
* * * *
What
emotional creatures women are.
* * * *
We are all
the dance watching itself happening.
* * * *
We are
the froth at the edges of the ocean’s middle.
* * * *
Oh
frail, mortal body,
What
torturous adventures
Do you
yet have in time’s store?
* * * *
The
masses are so easily swayed
By the
heady winds of persuasion.
* * * *
No wind
can sustain its passion forever.
* * * *
Fluids
encircle solids.
The
inflexible surrender to flexibility.
Victory
comes to those most capable of disguising
The
intentions of their many maneuvers.
* * * *
Emptiness
becomes desirable
When
you’re stuffed to groaning.
* * * *
Will
cannot stem the tide of time.
* * * *
How
fitting that we are the initiators of our own demise.
* * * *
How
absurd a flagpole looks standing near a tree.
* * * *
You
deserve eternal joy if you are
Clear
enough to realize its source.
* * * *
It is
not you who sits, stands, walks or runs.
It is
not you who sleeps or wakes.
It is
only your imagination.
* * * *
The
city, with all its human dramas,
Draws
us into a web of gluttonous confusion.
In
contrast, nature is so simple and orderly
That
most can no longer endure it long.
* * * *
No use
envying what doesn’t come out of you.
* * * *
Unscripted,
yet very precise.
* * * *
We
idealize Mother Nature
As we
consume her heart.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)
© Michael J. Holshouser 2009
World Rights Reserved