LX
There
is nothing this realm of consciousness or any other
Can
truly offer to which you do not already have access.
* * * *
How
arduous for most to even begin to realize
That it
is not their individual soul which is eternal.
That
they are merely a dream bubble in god’s soda.
* * * *
Organized
religion as so many practice it,
Is the
collusive blaspheme of ignorance.
* * * *
Divine
the source of beingness
And you
will fathom all diversity
Imagined
in this play of oneness.
* * * *
The
depth of your aloneness
Cannot
be measured.
* * * *
You are
existent and non-existent
Within
the realm of consciousness
And
that which is prior to all dreams.
* * * *
Few
will ever begin to understand
What
so-called scriptures truly imply.
They
are much more satisfied and happy
Chasing
the gold at the end of maya’s rainbow.
* * * *
To see
the allness of these words and any others,
You
must read between the lines and letters as well.
* * * *
The
ways of humanity are puny and sustain no value.
Why be
burdened by greed, envy, ambition and lust?
They
provide no sanctity for the spirit seeking serenity.
* * * *
You
dream you are a man or a woman,
Therefore
you become a man or woman.
Dream
instead that you are god or the devil,
You
will take on the characteristics you imagine.
But
what if you are done with the craving for dreams?
What is
left but that which only the nameless unknown aspire.
* * * *
The
greatness to which the small-minded aspire
Is no
greater than the dust upon a gnat’s wing.
* * * *
These
are aphoristic riddles that fiddle
To
unlock you from your weary mind.
* * * *
Thank
your suffering for your insight
Into
the passionless way.
* * * *
You are
a house of godness.
* * * *
First,
end all doubt.
Then,
for the rest of your time,
Recollect
whenever humanly possible
That
absolute totality which is your true reflection.
* * * *
Understand
space-time’s imaginary origin,
And you
traverse the dreamtime universe.
* * * *
There
is not a solid tooth in this manifest purgatory.
* * * *
These
thoughts are for those who ponder
Beyond
all realms of heaven and hell,
Into
that which is sovereign, unimaginable,
Without
vain compensations or bitter punishments.
For
those willing to concede all will to that which is absolute
Beyond
all plays of conscious design, that which is one with all origins.
* * * *
When
the scribe was very young, he declared perfection a policy.
Now, if
you realize the death of which he speaks, it is a reality.
Discern
the sovereign declaration within your own dream.
* * * *
The
superficial will always remain superficial.
Maya
will ever be maya, illusion ever illusion,
No
matter how vainly you wish it could be more.
* * * *
The
quest for knowledge, understanding and wisdom
Is a
fool’s errand.
* * * *
Those
discerning this sort of thought
Are an
exclusive membership
To
which all are welcome,
But few
find the key.
* * * *
You are
it and it is you,
Only
limitation brewing two.
* * * *
Recollection
takes attention,
And
attention recollection.
* * * *
Please
excuse the scribe if he seems
Somewhat
arrogant in his eternal poverty.
The
signal did not come through wishy-washy.
* * * *
You are
more real than you can ever imagine.
* * * *
Any
concept is thought-energy woven into reality,
The
ever-nowness projecting pasts and futures
Within
the dreamtime of manifest creation.
* * * *
None of
this would make any sense whatsoever
Without
the leap of faith of the mind born of time.
* * * *
A
philosopher, a student of life seeking truth’s union
Conceives
an ample compendium of subjects
At the
mind’s extrapolating fingertips
* * * *
Notice
how the mind resists the ending of time.
It will
give in again and again into every craving
As
often as you succumb to its ceaseless nature.
* * * *
Where,
oh where has the little mind gone?
Beyond
all reflections into the vastness
Only
wise seers will ever call home.
* * * *
No
matter how high the high,
It is
ever consciousness
Passing
quickly gone,
The
trap so willingly set
In
mind’s eye bound to time.
* * * *
Kings
and queens may imagine themselves
The rulers
of vast arrays of armies and servants,
But is
it not they who are truly imprisoned by the roles
In
which those beneath are forced to cast them.
* * * *
Regarding
any turn of events,
Who can
really say if it is good or bad
When it
merely aligns another time yet to come.
All
causes transform into effects and effects into causes,
And
only dream-bound dreamers reflect upon dualistic progressions.
* * * *
Too
many people, too many technologies,
Governments,
corporations, bureaucrats, tourists,
Religions, cities, prisons, deforested hills, cultivated
valleys,
Chemicals,
weapons, trash piles, tainted water, domesticated animals,
False
differences, vain histories, mountains of false gold, self-absorbed dreams.
A
species hell-bent on a sure road to extinction.
* * * *
The
mind, despite its being a mutation of mysterious origin,
Invokes
a linear confabulation which can never
Seal
off its intrinsic spontaneity.
It is
destined by its essential nature to Self-destruct.
* * * *
The
world you see is a brief painting fashioned in time,
A
spinning dynamic island in a dynamic spinning universe
In a
dynamic dreaming you as witness have created.
* * * *
Fairness,
Like so
many concepts,
Has an
unfailingly certain relativity about it.
* * * *
The
permutations of manifest mutation
Are far
from done.
* * * *
But
realize, my friends,
No
false king will first listen
To the
dogs playing at his feet
Without
at least one nibble
Thought
to be meat.
* * * *
Numby-numb-numb,
A few
beers and you’re done.
Let the
other fellow pretend to abstain.
You’ve
got a reality of your own to entertain.
* * * *
We are
on a bull
And the
jaunt will not end
Until
the bull is done.
* * * *
Humanity
may have caught the first wave or so quite well,
Be
there’s more coming and the shark’s got your tail.
What,
pray tell, are you going to try do about it?
* * * *
How
fortunate for humankind and the world at large,
That
the harsh, cruel, foul, sinister reflections
This
imagination has so freely wandered
Have
been so harmlessly channeled.
* * * *
The constant,
demanding presence of technology,
It is a
wonder we are not all batty from all the beeping.
* * * *
We seem
to postpone the dreadful accounting
For the
children to someday attempt to pay.
And pay
some will, so very sorry to say.
* * * *
If what
one does, does no harm to another,
Then
what real concern is it to anyone else?
Political
correctness is a narrow, confining path.
* * * *
If
you’re very lucky
You
will never find out
How
harsh life can truly be.
* * * *
Despite
the superficial harshness of these words,
There
is a great deal of heartfelt intent t to all this.
* * * *
An
inane penance.
* * * *
Excuse
me for asking such a stupid question,
But why
is it necessary to believe in anything?
* * * *
Is it
really anything but a whimsy of nature
Which
makes any of us act the way we do?
* * * *
Where
would we be if we did not
Support
one another’s vanity?
* * * *
Do you
see where we are headed?
Can we
avert it? At what point
Can the
speeding vehicle
Turn to
avoid the cliff?
* * * *
The answer
is cooperation
* * * *
Was it
something you ate?
* * * *
With
all the pain we endure,
Its a
wonder we aren’t all
Alcoholics
and drug addicts.
* * * *
Does
all this leave you as confused as before?
Well,
you’re not alone then.
* * * *
Just remember,
as has been said before,
Watch
what another does, not what s/he says.
Actions
do in deed speak louder than words.
* * * *
What
good all the world’s philosophy
If no
one can live it?
* * * *
You are
welcome
To
laugh at my funeral,
If you
find the body.
* * * *
It is
the writer’s enjoyment of sound and concepts,
The
challenge of isolation, and the vanity of history
Which
has brought to this dream these thoughts.
What
mongrel doesn’t want to leave a mark?
* * * *
You
must nourish yourself before
You can
ever hope to feed the world.
* * * *
Have
you noticed no one label
Seems
to describe you completely,
Yet all
seem to fit just the same.
* * * *
A new
spin on the ball changes everything.
* * * *
Are
there any winners in war?
* * * *
How
much easier it is to put off into time
That to
which now holds the answer.
* * * *
Is
there any way you can be here
Without
someone or something
Aching
for your existence?
It’s a
god eat god world
No
matter which way you turn.
* * * *
If you
peer within,
You will
find where all creation,
All the
manifestations of your dream originate.
* * * *
Every
caste has its snobbery.
* * * *
Who
doesn’t see themselves as the good guy?
Who
doesn’t rationalize their mystery-given role
In such
a way as to maintain a sense of rightness?
* * * *
All
life is influenced by so many things
Which
create such a varied range of views.
A
network of paths whose Soul destiny is one.
* * * *
Peace
is gracefully abiding
In
eternity’s momentary window of time,
Sovereign
in the aloneness of the all that is one.
* * * *
It’s
about time, it’s about space
It’s
about a very strange and wondrous place.
* * * *
Embracing
one’s death
And all
the suffering in advance
Simplifies
the incalculable complexities
Which
inevitably arise in daily living.
* * * *
All
words will someday be forgotten.
The
echoes of sound will cease.
Time
will be lost to eternity.
* * * *
The
masses are so easily mesmerized
By the
delusions history feeds them.
* * * *
Coddling
weakness only makes one weaker.
* * * *
You
need not trouble yourself over the world.
It will
be here long after your shadow disappears.
* * * *
And the
noise filled the garden with its silence.
* * * *
The
return to wonder fathoms no bounds.
* * * *
What
you do, how you do it,
Matters
much more
Than
your beliefs about it.
* * * *
The
words of politicians,
No
matter the scale of the arena,
Make a
capricious wind look dependable.
* * * *
You
have yet to encounter a label
Which
does not apply to some degree,
Nor one
that truly sticks for even a moment.
* * * *
Pain
can make one feel very old.
* * * *
Everything
points to it,
Yet
delusion blinds
All but
a few.
* * * *
Is
karma any more than a pacifier for the powerless?
* * * *
Oh,
treacherous garden.
Let the
innocent play
For as
long as they may
For
their day of reckoning, too,
Shall
come a-calling.
* * * *
Those
to whom we are ancestors will have no choice
But to
ride the narrow course we have set for them.
* * * *
If
these words ring true,
They
will stand the rigor of time.
If not,
well, let them wither into oblivion.
No
biggie.
* * * *
What
silliness all this is.
* * * *
Good
luck plugging that dike
To all who would deny
the Way.
* * * *
Beginnings
are endings,
And
endings are beginnings,
In the
context of time rooted in mind,
Preserved
by the nonchalance of eternity.
*
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The
Stillness Before Time (Compendium)
©
Michael J. Holshouser 2009
World
Rights Reserved