A Message In A Bottle In A Universe

 

The universe is a very large and messy place.

It´s so large that even though there are

unimaginable cosmic catastrophes constantly

taking place, there is enough space for every

kind of environment, even those conducive to

life. It´s either a miracle, or the simple fact

that whatever can happen does happen. You

get comic strip philosophy: ¨We have met the

enemy, and they are us.¨, Pogo,. and

philosophical comedians:  ¨God is dead.¨

Nietzsche, and anything in between.

So, when your brain is tuned (Quantum) to

the universe…which means the unity of

 innerverse and outerverse, every truth is

apparent and doubts no longer arise….

 

How´s about that, huh?

Yeah, Baby…….

I´m adding stuff at the end because... I

need to get out my stuff because maybe 

this year a lot of people lose their lives

and I may be one so I´m getting out my 

stuff now rather than not now., just adding

stuff at the end of whatever it is I write.

I may not be saying anything..It may be 

just  stuff that I say, like the previous stuff

right here. Rather stuffy. What to do?

Birth And Death

Ah, the miracle of birth!

We don’t say that when someone dies.

You don’t have to be around that long

to see where this whole thing is going.

What if birth was inevitable and death

was the miracle?

Most of what happens after birth is

afterbirth….after birth…after birth.

Death happens too…after death…

after death, 

alternating as things change. But we

don’t say much when something dies

or is born because we’re too fascinated 

by the visions of the Bardo of this life.

Written On A Magic Screen

The screen is magic. 

When I write words on it,

they become what the words represent.

You see what the words mean, like in an

oral culture where the descriptions spoken 

are as if the speaker was seeing the actual 

events unfolding in front of him

as he speaks.

What looks like words are trees, meadows,

horizons of fields, even what is infinite.

It’s in code, like the Matrix, like DNA.

Never lost in the void because the void 

never stopped it to begin with.

It just arose….that’s right,

it just arose like your Aunt Mabel and 

her tulips.  Like your life where did it

come from and why are you so terrified 

of not knowing?

Don’t worry, little one…..

don’t worry.

Tormenta

Hurricane, grey skies but not much rain.

Off the coast of Acapulco a Cat. 5 coming

at me, but mountains melt the torment as

it leaves the sea. Meanwhile, computer

problems…worse for me than being blown

away. I love the weather but have always

been afraid of what I couldn’t see: electricity.

Not a Luddite anymore…more a primitivo 

worshiping at the throne of technology.

Computers scare me but I need them

like a cowboy needs a gun.

Hey, I used to be intelligent, even…

now….crumbling debris.

Midnight Special

 

Does there have to be a reason?

Half light, up too late…try to

imagine there´s an atmosphere

of mysterious space ambience,

a gift of the dralas, that comes to a

place where authentic presence

has been practiced and established...

quantum playground of dakinis...one

becomes part of the environment.

 

And that´s just for starters…but, you

don´t have to or want to expect more.

Like the scene in the movie: ¨Why did

Bodhidharma Come To The East?¨ 

when the boy is floating down the 

river on his back endlessly; 

whatever arises is a display of 

phenomenon, unfolding like a flower 

opening its petals.

 

And connecting to quantum being,

which means recognizing intuitive

understanding, (I don´t know how,

I know, but I just know) as the path

and discipline to train the mind into

greater awareness. This training is to

shed all beliefs and preconceptions

and to reduce discursive mind to a

slight distraction until, finally,

it disappears, like a nasty roommate

you had for years and suddenly they

moved out overnight.

Get rid of gross distractions

                     and become pure Light.

Funny, 

I never know what I´m going to write.

Wolfram Magic

 

I dated a girl named Erica Wolfram for a

short time in high school. Her (tongue)

was out(stan)ding. She was hard to get

along with, had a high melting point,

and could drill into you if she wanted to

find something out. She was a metal

head with red hair…a bit too

mechanical…so I moved on…

…try to keep up.

 

There were´t many people in the tavern

that early in the evening. He plopped his

burlap bag on the wooden bench next to

the one he was sitting on, and ordered a

tankard of beer. The locals knew him as a

strange sort, a loner and a prospector. He

gave no offense and was largely ignored.

The owner, whom he knew, came over to

his table. ¨Anything interesting in your

bag today?¨ the owner asked. ¨Maybe,¨

said Stan (because that was his name),

¨let´s see.¨  Stan rummaged in his bag

for a few seconds only before he pulled

out what appeared to be a quite heavy

rock or chunk of metal. ¨What´s that?¨

asked John, because that was the owner´s

 name.  ¨It´s a nugget of wolfram, a very

mysterious substance with magical

powers.¨ said Stan. ¨Oh…it looks pretty

hefty. Can I use it as a door stop for a

little while? It´s pretty windy today.¨

¨Sure.¨ said Stan, not sure what the rock

would think of the situation. It was a big

rock. It could take care of itself. If it didn´t

resonate with the vibrations of a particular

scene or environment, it would put out

waves that melted the dynamic. Suddenly,

a crowd about to riot and loot and burn

starts dancing and singing and laughing.

That´s why he liked having it around…

......like breadsticks, cheese and wine.

Quick Pic

 

Matty Gaskar, the renowned Basque poet, was

putting the final touches on his Magnum Opus:

¨What Happened?¨ an epic poem paralleling the

great oral epics of Homer and the Cogi. At his age,

you´d think he´d be flipping channels on T.V. rather

than composing a tome of such great importance,

but Matty didn´t know the meaning of the word:

¨quit¨. He didn´t speak English. He was at the acne

of his profession…a pimple on the face of literature.

 

He went to the refrigerator to get some milk. The

expiration date on the carton was February 3, 532

B.C.. There was a photo of a boy on the back of the

carton with hieroglyphs that read: ¨Have you seen

this pharaoh?¨ The milk was bad. Things were

changing so rapidly in the world he couldn´t keep

up anymore. That milk had still been good in 1955.

Time was funny like that. Each day felt like

a thousand years

I´ll Wait Over Here

 

Twenty years in Mexico not waiting for America

to change…who knows when or how? Not waiting,

no…..¨America¨ is just another concept. I am a

citizen of the Earth.

 

Freedom is a pretty good concept as a basis to

organize a society.

 

Enlightenment is better.

The Shambhala, (a.k.a. Shangri-La), ¨myth¨ of a

society based on the fruition of the evolution of

human intelligence. The awakening of the senses

to the world to see and know the truth better;

something that A.I. will never evolve into.

 

We are wisdom. Intuition is the intellect connecting

with the senses to an organic insight into the way

the world works,

a quantum connectivity,

cause, effect,

karma, coincidence,

cyclical transformation,

eternal goof.

Prevolution

 

Protected panoramic penthouse overlooking

cliffside mountain valley fog and rain echoes

off windows other ambient sounds

everything is falling apart

not that it was too together to begin with

it´s only that it´s looked the same for so long

or it seems so long

so when it changes suddenly it´s a shock

(here it comes)

meanwhile enjoy the moment before

you light your cigarette and

work out your evolution with diligence.

4:11 P.M.

 

It´s raining ambient sound

on my computer  no rain

outside maybe will be clouds

say so they say NASA has a

satellite always looking down

at Tepoztlan because of UFOs

I´ve been told this is true

I´ve seen two one at a bus stop

know they´re real meanwhile

I space out……………………………

 

Some people paint this way,

a kind of impressionism of words,

which isn´t saying very much,

but, under the circumstances,

about the best I can do,

because, for example,

words didn´t enlighten Buddha.

We´re lucky to crack a smile with

words, let alone find the secret code.

 

So, what´s this poem all about,

and, to be honest, I don´t really care.

Look at thousand year old cave

paintings and try to figure out what

she was thinking when he blew ochre

on a wall. Maybe he/she wasn´t

thinking of anything at all. 

The Purge Of Belief

 

Walter Kerr on the Gutfeld show: ¨I don´t think it´s good

for us to have beliefs anymore¨.

 

THAT´S IT!!!!! That´s what the whole process the world is

in right now is ABOUT: the dissolving of beliefs, which

began in the 19th century with Nietsche, into twentieth

century with modern art, physics and philosophy, to this

point, when it´s questionable if any of the beliefs of the

past have any relevance in the present at all.

 

Can you just be without second guessing or strategizing

your next move all the time? Is that how an accomplished

samurai is? We know that when someone is brainwashed,

it´s difficult for them to see other than what they believe.

Has that been true of, say patrons of the Christian

(Catholic) Church? Muslim fanatics? Jim Jones cultists?

Democrat Satanists?

 

The uncertainty we feel is the psychological ground of

beliefs of any sort crumbling under our feet. The beliefs

have to go first before the truth can be revealed. The

uncertainty of no belief is the ground for seeing reality

as it really is. This is the natural process that´s happening,

and it is inevitable. 2012 was no joke.

¨If you want to hide something, put it in plain sight.¨

---William Burroughs

Slavery And Freedom

 

In all of human history there has been slavery.

The concept of freedom for human beings

as an innate right has only been around

a couple of hundred years.

In today´s world there are slaves,

and all countries enslave their citizens

to a greater or lesser degree….

greater: China and now the USA…

lesser: Thailand, Mexico.

 

What would we do if we were truly free…

be creative, dance and sing, flourish?

People have always done incredible things

in spite of the slavery around them…just ask

Michelangelo, Leonardo, Galileo, Bukowski.

Imagine the world that would be

if it were free from slavery.

(Don´t forget the crypto-slavery of child labor,

wage earning, consumerism, propaganda,

and the beat-your-ass-down goes on)

Doggerel Sandwich

In poetry, as everything, there comes a time

When words you use or say must rhyme.

It is a convention most well respected,

That, in poetry, through time, it has infected.

Though poetry has changed, these days,

Detected no longer the cloying tones repeated;

In free verse now, unchained, poetry is seated…

The muse, free from her bonds, abed where she lays,

Safe from infection, enjoying her ways.

Spambiance

Ambient music watching A.I. art

artificial artifice

fascination captivation

occupation deviation

floating in opulent perception

virtual Eden.

Hell is a perfect world. 

Self Portrait

 

It´s a heck of a thing

to look back on your life

see what you did

see what you are now

connect the dots.

You can see cause and effect.

You can see karma,

not just yours, but the karma

of all the people you knew.

What happened to people

over a period of time, over

their lives?

That´s who they were.

That´s who they are,

beyond the occasional

slip of the tongue or

inappropriate gesture.

A good artist can paint it.

At Least It Was Never My Job

  

As a plumber, I´ve been in the dirt,

shall we say…sometimes I got soaked

with it. It was the job, and, afterwards,

I got clean and drank sake. It was alright.

 

I was never in a job where I had to do

things I knew were wrong…like the Mafia,

like the deep state government, education…

pharmaceutical…entertainment…yada, yada,

                        yada.

How do you do that?

It helps to be a sociopath or a psychopath, but

even saner people do it.

 

Listen:

My dad was a lawyer…I saw the fucking traps,

like the one he was in, basically the same as all

the other traps that remolecularize a persons

soul into an artificial intelligence (talk show host,

politician, lawyer) just a phase shift away from an 

alien. Nobody wanted to change me…they wanted 

for me to do the work and get out…not strangely

exactly what I wanted. It was perfect camouflage

from The Order.

Don´t Stop Me Now!

 

It´s ok…you can stop me…

I´m not really going anywhere…

just wandering like the rest of

youse guys, except , some of you

really look like you´re trying hard

to go somewhere, even the ones

already over the rainbow of

success look like they´re afraid

even if they only slow down a little

bit….I guess that´s what comes of

being a prey animal for billions of

lifetimes: you may have evolved in

intelligence but you still have the

(more than) vestige of looking over

your shoulder all the time….bon

voyage and bon chance!

Two For 10/1/23

 

Thirty three thousand hits on my blog last month

It must have been a glitch in the Matrix.

It must have been an aberration in the paradigm.

It must have been something somebody ate,

believed,

followed to the death.

I write poems to get even.

 

The Beats were the John the Baptist of Buddhism

in America, the Zenvolution of the spirit

heralding nowness

swimming against the current of the Kaliyuga,

Warriors in a time of degeneracy…

evolving in the present moment....

autonomic genius humanity.