LXXXI
Oh
sure, there’s plenty of room for all the silliness we concoct.
Plenty
of empty space for every absurd possibility.
Dump
upon our only home all we please.
The
world can take our weight.
It’s
all recycling right now.
But one
day there will be a reckoning.
One day,
humanity must redress its excesses.
One day,
the scourge of humankind will face the bitter pill
That no
species, no matter how adept, is above the rules of the game.
* * * *
Is
thinking about god really any greater
Than
any other conscious fixation?
* * * *
All
your judgments seem to imply
You are
somehow superior.
Hmmm …
* * * *
Peace
is a full breath, a good shit
And a
sated, empty mind.
* * * *
Is
there anyone who does not at some point
Fabricate
a rational for their existence?
* * * *
How
amazing the power of suggestion.
* * * *
Of
promises never kept,
We are
so many.
* * * *
The I
of which I speak
Will
always be you.
* * * *
If you
want even a breath,
You
will know discontent.
* * * *
The
body requires certain essentials
To
function well: air, food, water.
The
mind requires the same.
Both
are the same one.
* * * *
Forget
who you pretend to be,
At
least occasionally.
* * * *
What is
all this but an intellectual,
Emotional,
manifest enticement
For the
grand amusement of god.
Welcome
to the Twilight Zone.
* * * *
Whose
permission do you need?
* * * *
The
ecstasy is taking up residence
In that
which knows no other.
It is
heaven on earth.
* * * *
Rather
amazing how divisive one can be.
* * * *
Nothing
has been held back.
All
cards are on the table.
* * * *
One
need not be bound
By any
contrived perspective.
Judgment
is the sport of otherness
Defining
every conceivable difference.
* * * *
A gift
for what it’s worth.
* * * *
What
now!?
* * * *
We all
function at different levels of ignorance.
* * * *
The
meek will inherit the earth
Because
they know how
To hide
and watch.
* * * *
In the
biggest picture who is anybody’s
Mother
or father, daughter or son.
* * * *
Day and
night the human drama plays out its insignificance.
* * * *
Remember
when large was large and small, small.
When
right was right and wrong, wrong.
When so
many things were innocently assumed.
* * * *
Our
ability to manipulate technologies
Has
etched the illusory even deeper
On the
psyche borne of delusion.
* * * *
We
placate our bruised psyches
In so
many twisted fashions.
* * * *
Explore
the many barriers to complete surrender all you please.
It is
always the same no matter how many masks call it different.
* * * *
The
devil you are is quite the tool.
* * * *
Discerning
the news, and maintaining
An edge
of defiance and delusion
Has
made for all this copy.
Total
surrender at its inception
Would
have been such a blissful drunk
The
scribe might never have sobered up enough
To
proclaim the vision for all you others.
* * * *
All
this is written through the banter of experience,
The
interactions of life’s many dramas in its river flow.
* * * *
It is a
harsh, cruel world with oases of kindness.
* * * *
So many
approaches created,
So many
passages to eternity,
All
equal in the ultimate sense.
* * * *
That
vague lack of confidence in each of us
Creates
so much vain, silly restlessness.
* * * *
The
world is filled with so many human beings,
Most of
which lack a far-sighted vision
Of
where their world is headed.
Six
billion plus or minus mind frames,
So many
in opposition, fragmented and divisive,
Competing,
thieving, lying, cheating, stealing and manipulating,
Conquering
and scamming in every conceivable manner.
The
cancer of consciousness chews on its paw
In a
pitfall of its own invention.
* * * *
The
time is coming when we must put up
Or we
will be shut up.
* * * *
Mammon
has always won out in this world.
Give
Caesar the value he values
And
discern the only gold worth its weight.
* * * *
How
many words will we destroy before the drumbeat,
The
rhythm of time ceases its mysterious sound?
* * * *
In
dualistic notion, there are always
At
least two sides to every mask.
* * * *
Interest
cannot be forced or feigned well.
* * * *
Where
might you now be
If you
had been more disciplined?
* * * *
Oh
lord, another twisted, sick form of godness.
* * * *
How
many ways there are to state the same one.
How
many ways there are to see the same one.
How
many ways there are to be the same one.
* * * *
You
might as well go mad.
Surely,
it wouldn’t be any more insane
Than
what’s already happening.
* * * *
And
Krishna waded into the fray,
Spurring
the chariot into the mad brawl,
The
ferocity of agony, death and destruction,
And
through it all, musing it as unreal as any genesis.
* * * *
Your
pattern is as carved as an etching in stone.
* * * *
Pleasure
will twist you in every way
You are
predestined to imagine.
* * * *
What is
the world-wide web
But a
billboard at every screen?
* * * *
How
much information must we collect
Before
we see it is understanding
We so
desperately need?
* * * *
What
last toy, what last experience,
What
last pleasure will you seek out
Before
you exhale that last breath?
* * * *
Who
writes history?
The
victors, the scholars, the survivors.
* * * *
Re:
free will, little dab'll do ya.
* * * *
Can you
say no to anything?
* * * *
How
large can a balloon grow
Before
the elasticity ends?
* * * *
As you
walk your own path to glory,
Just
make sure you don’t trample on mine.
* * * *
Now
leader can lead without a group to follow.
* * * *
Free
will is a contradiction of terms.
* * * *
How
hard do you work to fit
Into
some perception of history?
* * * *
There
being no justice in this vain world,
We
create a god to administer it in some other.
* * * *
Why
concern yourself with a trail of previous lives?
Now is
where the tire hits the road, honeybunch.
* * * *
Whoa
unto the stranger who enters your castle uninvited.
* * * *
Innocence
is twisted into the human drama in each of us.
* * * *
A child
is a potential sage.
A sage
is the child’s potential realized.
* * * *
The
return to wonder fathoms no bounds.
* * * *
How
many lessons we must learn
Over
and over and over again.
* * * *
What’s
to remember?
* * * *
You are
a seed come to life,
Born to
unearth heaven.
* * * *
Ignorance
is really the only excuse.
* * * *
The
effort to surrender
Is only
vain conflagration
As long
as you make it one,
Or is
it until you make it one?
* * * *
Somebody
has to write this sort of thing, I suppose.
But why
me? I didn’t supplicate for this, believe you me.
If I’d
known what I was seeking, I’d of tried a little less harder.
* * * *
Do not
confuse attack with victory,
Nor
retreat with surrender.
* * * *
Interesting
how the weakest
Seem to
fabricate the greatest pride.
* * * *
What
makes anyone believe you were ever loyal?
* * * *
As
broad as you may think your world,
It is
inevitably quite narrow.
* * * *
God
must love soap.
* * * *
Peel
away the surface of your desire and see what you think then.
Romance
is defined and confined by form, function by function.
Neither
treads forever but through dualistic and vain notion.
* * * *
What a
maddening world.
One
must learn detachment
To one
degree or another.
* * * *
To wear
one’s wealth too boldly
Risks
its being stolen by envy or need.
* * * *
Karma
is a subjective notion,
Unnecessary
once you see
The one
and only point of it all.
* * * *
Have
you breached death?
* * * *
Is
there a god?
If
there was, who would it be?
What
identity would it abide
But the
one you project?
* * * *
Don’t
wave your flag ‘till you’ve got the glory.
* * * *
You are
defined by capacity and limitation,
By
desire and fear, by dualistic inclinations,
By
maya’s infinite talent for the measurement
Of
delusion in its incessant denial of ignorance.
* * * *
How
difficult it is for beautiful women
Who
want attention but not stares.
* * * *
Pay
attention to the rope
In the
knot’s tying and untying
* * * *
Why
imagine a god outside yourself?
* * * *
Consistently
inconsistent the unprincipled one.
* * * *
Why do
you look around?
To see
others or to see if they see you?
Is your
self-esteem founded upon inner or outer vision?
The
answer is the lady or tiger of your existence.
* * * *
You
thought you were piloting the craft,
But one
day realized you had to surrender
The
control you never truly possessed.
* * * *
We are
moths to flame in our cosmopolitan flame.
* * * *
To the
young: Get past adulthood as quickly as
you can.
* * * *
Peel
any face and it’s all the same beneath.
* * * *
What
line to tow?
* * * *
It is
all uniquely the same.
* * * *
You
will not save the world.
You
may, however, aid in invoking a change.
* * * *
Power
does not come to the meek in this world.
* * * *
Peace
is not a negotiable item.
Peace
is in the heart.
* * * *
The
potential for harmony is chipped away
By
focusing on the unending array of differences.
* * * *
Oneness
is so great a vision as to leave you disincorporated.
* * * *
God,
don’t you hate being on a pedestal.
* * * *
What
makes women think they are so attractive
Once
their mammaries are sagging and their crotches
Smell
more and more like decomposing fish?
The
hypnotic nature of maya runs thin
When
the pile of chips runs low.
Best
have place them in a good heart
Or you
may end up a wretched, scolding hag.
* * * *
Who
really cares how you are remembered?
* * * *
What
makes you like or dislike another
Often
depends how they respond
To your
self-imagined play.
* * * *
Who
knows what really ever existed?
* * * *
Look to
you own deficiencies
Before
you disparage another’s.
* * * *
Another
layer of dust in an ever-changing universe.
*
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The
Stillness Before Time (Compendium)
©
Michael J. Holshouser 2009
World
Rights Reserved