19 November 2013

Chapter 291 - The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)


The larger picture of history’s unfolding is not a pretty sight,
And daily more removed from any redemption
Other than a sure road to collapse
And dystopian ruin.

* * * *
Why do this, why do that?
Why not do this, why not do that?
Here you are, may as well give it your all-est all
However time and inclination allow.

* * * *
Every day each and every one of us,
Even the most astutely contemplative,
Awakens from the tranquility of oblivion
To a new day of imaginary whatever.

* * * *
Yet another inspirational discourse
That everyone wildly cheers,
And as quickly forget.

* * * *
Wisdom is the penance of fools.

* * * *
Once you are born,
You must live, you must die.
You really have no choice in the matter.

* * * *
Nuances within nuances within nuances.
How far will we take the intellectual reverie
Before this dream sends us our merry way?

* * * *
Idolatry is certainly an easier row to hoe than doubt.

* * * *
Not a good idea to entice people do things you are going to regret.

* * * *
Another day in the endless cesspit of wordplay.
The maze of the mind is just one snare,
One dead end after another.

* * * *
 ‘Tis a statistical certitude that for every height
There is eventually an equal and opposite depth.

* * * *
Just because it’s all one
Doesn’t mean it isn’t pathetic, even horrifying
At least several times a day.

* * * *
Would that futility were not so resilient.

* * * *
And who, really,
Has the enemy ever been,
But ourselves?

* * * *
Pleasure and pain
Are only as instantaneous
As the given neural system allows.

* * * *
Life’s a bitch.
Still we cling.

* * * *
The one percent
Have always run the show.
Deal with it … get over it … move on.
Render unto Caesar the illusions that are Caesar's,
And unto godness everything else.

* * * *
Don’t you wonder if some of the two-leggeds in the public eye
Ever step back and marvel how absurd their little character truly appears.
Demonstrating it again and again and again every 24/7/365 in one headline or another,
To all the rubberneckers who, with either envy or umbrage, goggle at every move.
Ye gods, the things we primates do in the quest for power, fame and fortune.

* * * *
Aging is about the body’s traversing new levels of normal.
The most challenging thing about growing old
Is remembering you were young.

* * * *
Dogma only uses that which it claims is truth
To substantiate its confining stance.
And truth that is delineated
Is not the truth.

* * * *
Oh, what the heck, no point in stopping now,
Let’s just push the gas pedal down
A little farther, shall we?
The wall beckons.

* * * *
And though it all seems so real,
If you had never been born,
Would, could any of this
Have ever happened?

* * * *
Such a game it is.
To play along with it,
Or not to play along with it,
That is the question.

* * * *
On and on and on
The scratching record plays.
Who in their right mind would ever read
All this babbling brook of silliness?

* * * *
Man is less the measure of all things,
Than he is the measurer of all things.

* * * *
Challenging to be content, grateful, and appreciative
Of the glass of water you have, however full or empty.

* * * *
Civilization, the ascent of the human species in such overwhelming numbers,
Has been the blight of Eden and all its creatures great and small.
How taxing to daily witness the unrelenting destruction
Of what was once such a wondrous garden.

* * * *
Civilization: the stage
Of human social development and organization
That is considered most advanced.

* * * *
Cancer: the disease
Caused by an uncontrolled division of abnormal cells
In a part of the body.

* * * *
Parasite: an organism
That lives in or on another organism (its host)
And benefits by deriving nutrients
At the host's expense.

* * * *
There are worse fates.

* * * *
Beyond the point of no return,
Talk is cheap, and daily cheaper.

* * * *
Wandering in and out of time
Like a drunk weaving, staggering,
Bottomless drink in hand, from bar to bar.

* * * *
And what is life, and what is death,
And need you ask anyone to tell you the difference?

* * * *
So futile and meaningless it is to attempt describing anything.
Words, despite their most eloquent, even passionate illustration,
Must ever fall short of expressing anything but lifeless memories.
Eternal life is in the momentary awareness of the ever-present now.

* * * *
Were you even your most expansive, glorious version of God,
You would still be bound by imagination’s ultimate limitation.

* * * *
How wearing to daily subscribe to the folly
Of believing any of this really, truly matters.

* * * *
The well-worn, obvious truth,
Actions speak louder than words,
Applies to groups and corporations
As much as it does any given individual.

* * * *
What balderdash all concepts of God are
Compared to the real thing.
Almost as absurd
As comparing Pepsi with Coke.

* * * *
It’s the same here-now as it is there-then,
As it will ever be any other where-when.

* * * *
Perhaps the dream will find a use
For these many thoughts, perhaps not.
‘Tis the nature of any gift to not know its fate.

* * * *
Science can measure everything it pleases,
But it can only flail and miscarry, huff and puff,
When it comes to the Great Nada, source of all things.

* * * *
Around some unknown, unexpected corner,
This reverie’s epoch must reach its inevitable end.
T’will be a happy-sad-so-it-goes-kind-of-moment, indeed,
And Tralfamadorians across the entire universe
Will applaud your performance.

* * * *
It is attachment to the myriad sensations that sustains the dream.

* * * *
The world is run by those whose dualistic notions
Make them the biggest, baddest haters of all nature’s bounty.
Perhaps the Great Trickster so reviled his garden
That he brought forth the human species
To bring it to ruin and desolation
In every way imaginable.

* * * *
How is it that so many accept and embrace
Inaccurate, narrow, superstitious observations
That have never at any time portrayed the actuality
In which they in every moment wander?

* * * *
Try for once not telling us what you really think.

* * * *
Entire universes dissolve in still minds.

* * * *
Glory calls us all.
It’s a monkey thing.

* * * *
Thinged out.

* * * *
Oh, unknowable fate.

* * * *
Hard to pick just one word
To accurately describe humankind,
When both vanity and greed so equally apply.

* * * *
A big part of dying is letting go of the living,
And a big part of living is letting go of the dead.

* * * *
To fables, parables, metaphors, and analogies speaking true
The will bound to reason and wisdom does like the willow bend.

* * * *
The monkey-mind does not easily tolerate any differences
Outside the patterning in which it has been molded.

* * * *
What conclusion can there possibly be
To a journey that has no beginning?

* * * *
The descent into madness
Is not a pretty thing to witness,
But, alas, we cannot choose our time.

* * * *
An aphoristic collage,
A puzzle jigged, a puzzle sawed,
The sundry potpourri of motley thoughts,
A mystic drunkard’s trail of doubt,
An epic, long and winding.

* * * *
Time is short, and every moment shorter
For all we players in this wee bit
Of memory’s passing.

* * * *
Happy endings?
Well, maybe in the Hollybollywoods.

* * * *
This has all really been
Nothing more than a very large,
Nothing-set-in-stone experiment, of sorts.
You, Self, the first and last scientist.

* * * *
Life, such as it is, is in the still awareness of now,
Not the memories projected by consciousness
Into the hollow dreams of future and past.

* * * *
Wake up, discern clearly that you do not really exist,
And then go punch in for another the day at the mill.

* * * *
Everybody is tripping along in one mind or another.

* * * *
One group’s seemingly rational plan,
Is to another an insidious conspiracy.

* * * *
Endure and enjoy as best ye may.

* * * *
God weighted with attributes,
God encased by limitations,
God delineated in any way,
Is not God.

* * * *
There are things that matter,
And so many more that don’t.

* * * *
Another moment absorbed
In the neuron figment of memory,
Imagination’s playground.

* * * *
Transcend the monkey mind.
Become a citizen of the universe.

* * * *
A deep craving, a deep fear
Permeates human consciousness.
It is the source of all turmoil and misery.

* * * *
“Please don’t forget,” God implored,
Though it knew they would forever again.

* * * *
Neither peace nor wisdom can be transplanted
From one heart, one mind, one soul to another.

* * * *
An endless enigma this quantum mystery every moment is.

* * * *
You are bound by anything only through your own volition.

* * * *
If you didn’t know any different, where would it get you?

* * * *
How ironic that the encouragement of so many
Calling upon others to raise themselves
Into goodness, wisdom, and truth,
Is so often unheeded, forgotten or usurped.

* * * *
If you are waiting for permission to be free,
It is going to be another long day.

* * * *
In stillness, the ever-present now.

* * * *
The creator is the creation.
The creation is the creator.

* * * *
Freedom is free.

* * * *
Neither follower nor leader be.

* * * *
Stillness, eternity’s default position.

* * * *
The mystery is a need-to-know thing,
And a true agnostic, perhaps the most honest of creatures,
Neither needs nor pretends to know anything.

* * * *
From angel to demon,
We are all equally of the same mystery.
Only the delusions of self-serving vanity delineates it more.

* * * *
Although you may acquire plenty of smarts from getting it,
Any given piece of paper is much more about
Allowing you access through doors
Along the maze of your fate.

* * * *
You are naught but a wisp of imagination.

* * * *
Hear the call to greatness, and ignore it.

* * * *
Always pursue the greatest vision,
And all attributes will slip into place.

* * * *
Why believe in anything?
Being the awareness is enough.

* * * *
Some are, most are not.

* * * *
Unshackle the monkey mind,
And it will flow its willy-nilly way.

* * * *
In the ultimate, ultimate reality,
How could there ever be any other dimension
Which would not, at the essential level,
Be the same dream as this one?

* * * *
In the wake of all memories great and small,
The universe is every moment imagined anew.

* * * *
It, too, will come and go, as all dates and times do.

* * * *
There are players, and there are masters.
Anyone can strive at anything,
But really doing a tango in any given arena
Is a quality of engagement to which few are given entrée.

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