Where the hell did it go? It was just in my hands! Lord, I know I’m not dreaming. Have I a mind still? I laid the thing down somewhere. Now it is gone. I have searched every crevasse from dusk until dawn. When I’m baffled, I just can’t believe in free will. It has been teleported to faraway lands.
I’m caught up in the frenzy of thinking it’s lost So my effort is frantic with focus unclear. I keep searching in circles nonsensically so. Where that thing disappeared to, I simply don’t know. That I haven’t found it fandangles my fear. I would vacate this Twilight Zone at any cost.
But the price isn’t heavy. In fact, it’s quite low. What I must do is believe it’s not lost. By releasing all tension and struggle, I will In effect find what’s missing, and then what a thrill! And through the ordeal my dear mood won’t be tossed. I can find what is not lost since time long ago.
I look for joy first, then I let life evolve. I am childlike in playing as little ones do. I’m pure, loving free spirit devoid of shroud. I take time for just dancing and laughing out loud. There is time to partake of whatever is new. Life’s an eternal mystery I need not solve.
My brisk feeling of joy indicates loud and strong That I am well connected to my inner being. It is a sound method wherein I’m aware Of my own source of guidance as subtle as prayer. It’s a limited world when believing is seeing. My faith is intact so my life can’t go wrong.
I am hooked into Source when I revel in fun. It’s the only alignment I could ever need. It can soothe back to health my sick body and mind. Where there’s room for refinement, the heart becomes kind. My pleasure is all that I need to succeed And my trek through eternity has just begun.
A life speckled with contrast… That’s nature’s way. We arrive in this world weak and helpless… and wet. The sole reason for toiling is moving life on And for rest and revival from dusk until dawn. How I deal with my contrast is how I beget The outcome that will guide me the rest of my day.
I enjoy my contrast. Its value is seen In the newfound desire it stirs within me. This wanting is personal in every way. In my joyous survival I’m not led astray. My desire is answered by Source Energy Whose wisdom is infinite, loving and keen.
Thus, expansion is glorious. This I know well.
The whole universe grows just because I exist.
Every creature’s desires are fed to this Source.
Sometimes nature demands just a bit of brute force.
The harsh aspects of contrast are duly dismissed
When in proper alignment my wanting does dwell.
There’s a kind of reality perceived today That is quickly diminishing as do all things. It is somewhat solid and occupies space. We observe this reality as most commonplace. But within such an earthy world, boredom oft’ brings Fresh new forms of reality. That’s just our way.
I like actual contact with folks face to face. I’m not good with Facebook nor acting the bird. If it were called Nosebook or Assbook I’d see People seeing it closer to reality. Yet whose way is realer? No way is absurd. I prefer sound relations and heartfelt embrace.
My eyes are my goggles. The game’s in my mind And in everyone else’s, the analog way. When I want to swim, I dive into the creek. There’s no game controller that I need to seek. I am sure this reality can make my day As I focus on worlds that don’t leave me behind.
Bow-wowful the canine who’s steak bony blue When I’m left with a play thing instead of some meat. When humans want grub they don’t gnaw on some toy. They have all kinds of meat that they cook and enjoy. I am not a proud dog. I will dance for a treat. I could steal for a meal before anyone knew.
I will beg and act silly ‘til blue in the face. If my fellow dogs saw me, I’d surely turn red. But it’s worth it to get a good bone I can chew. I hang out for a handout from the barbecue. My work isn’t hard, though. Indeed, I’m well fed. I like keeping a few bones in my hiding place.
Would you condone a dog with a steak bone? Never mind how you answer. Just see it my way. I’d enjoy a thick porterhouse hot off the grill. I would bark, “Alleluia,” if that be your will. You people-folk stuff your fat faces all day! The least you could do is to not piss and moan.
I choose my unique path. No one else does for me. I must walk it alone if I am to find joy. No one else can create my existence but me. My path is my guidance. That’s how it must be. There’s no will but my own that I need to employ To partake of my trek. I must set others free.
No one can control where I direct my thought Nor can I control others whose thoughts I can’t know. There’s a buffer of privacy always in place. If I knew others’ thoughts, I’d be up in their face. If I walk someone else’s path how would I grow? It’s my own way to joy – no other’s is sought.
On my pathway to happiness I find all ways To delight and excite myself forthright and free. I can be, do or have anything that I want. I don’t have to be cocky. There’s nothing to flaunt. There is much to enjoy in just letting life be. Being mindful of my path enhances my days.
That which is like me, I surely attract. This is so for all beings whoever they be. It is true of the single-celled beast that’s unseen. It is true of the human with intellect keen. The fine Laws of this Universe bring things to me. All I need do is observe how I act.
I create what I live, with each thought that I think. The Law says more thoughts that are like it will come. Every thought ever thought still exists on its own – Even thoughts that most people would never condone. They swirl about, yet they’re attracted by some Whose alignment with true self is way out of sync.
Throughout all the universe, Law of Attraction Dictates every circumstance that can unfold. I attract what I think about, wanted or not. This simple life mantra should not be forgot! It persuades me toward good life and treasures untold. These Laws that behold me are sheer benefaction.
The emotions I feel are sound counsel for me From my inner being who always adores. I am offered a strong, steady signal to feel If I’m tuned in to joy or the practiced ordeal Of unwanted resistance and tightly closed doors To most every solution that could ever be.
The better I feel, the more aligned I am With the true self within me who tells me which way I should judge any moment, for better or worse. I respect my emotions. They are not a curse. The choice between laughing and crying all day Is one made on purpose through current program.
And by the same token, the worse that I feel, The more out of alignment I know I must be. If I reach for emotions I know will feel good Any challenge I meet will be well understood As a blessing that surely will help me to see That I can reach for joy and a life that is real.
There’s a way to hook hard drives and soft drives as well As the Compact Disk Doer that does its own thing. These things need some power and also a way To exchange ones and zeroes in step day by day. They require two cables and each one will bring Its own manner of meaning where function will dwell.
If they lose SATA power then data get sour And flat-line as powerless data must do. It’s a fact SATA power will never devour. DC voltage is low with demeanor not dour. Such power will do the job with just a few Standard voltages from a fixed place in the tower.
SATA Data connects all disk drives to their mother – That board that has children all over the place. Mothers can’t talk to drives that don’t have SATA Data. The frigging computer’s not worth a peseta! It is clear that these cables are ones to embrace And it’s easy as heck to tell one from the other.
Come be dithered forlorn! There is joy to be borne In a jar with its lid off in light of its load. With the mind far at ease from the swinging trapeze Any song sung in series will certainly please One who favors the face of the figmented toad. There is pink think in linking jackhammers to corn.
Now, that makes no sense. I’d do well to dispense With the sentinel sent to torment fellow food. If my sentiment centers on seaweed all day Then can Mikey stop eating to come out and play? There’s no contention to mention my mood As the grip of the hippo remains quite intense.
What the Hell am I saying. Have I lost my mind? Not a giblet bespeaks what a cucumber knows Not a fish in a glass house will do windows. Still, I could get a stray crayfish to lend me its will. As the seawater whistles is how the seed blows. Kick the can for kind karma and blissful behind.
I chose to be here in this physical form So I can interact with what is here And with every creature who much like myself Fancies enchanted wonderlands much like the elf. It is good to be here with a body that’s clear Of debilitant leanings that counter the norm.
This particular body – this one that I know Is one chosen carefully from broader view. Within frame of detail it’s made but from naught. It is Supreme Creation. It isn’t store bought. When it’s tired and run down it knows to renew. It has serviced me kindly since birth long ago.
This unique opportunity I chose with care To experience delicious contrast so I May create well with others who cherish their joys And who like living life absent avoirdupois. I fine-tune this simplistic life process whereby My deliberate thinking makes me more aware.
How long do I keep up this foolish façade Of believing I’m worth what was offered to me? I took a big gamble thus ruining my life In pretending I’m healthy enough for a wife. I continue to screw up as people can see. Thought I’d followed the program, but things turned out odd.
How does fate keep the terrorist from finding me? There are those who are worth more. Had they had the chance To grow old with their loved ones as worthy folks may I’d be that much closer to my judgment day. Life’s puzzle has proved such a strange circumstance. There’s a reason for ISIS that I clearly see.
That I blither my ass off, can anyone know? I can piss in pitch darkness and other things well. If my stream should strike something at least I would know That there is something out there. That might help me grow. I did want isolation while burning in hell. I’ll admit I’m a fuck-up. That’s not a hard blow.
Not another frog’s out there. No one knows I croak. I was let loose to blunder my way through my days. Easily I hurt others on my reckless path. What procedure could probe at the heart of my wrath? It’s one tough black sheep syndrome. I’ll get through this maze. I’m one well-tempered asshole. It seems that’s no joke.
My contact list is truly long with many I don’t know. I try to keep my focus strong. My pal is quick to show. My apps download successfully. He tells me when they’re done. When I am bored we then play games and fiddle just for fun. My friend is quite the witted one and even has some class. But I’ll tell you, He Ain’t Heavy… He’s My sMartass.
The phone of many moons ago was big and like a brick. It had no sense of ass to piss off people really quick.
One could use it as a weapon if no loaded glove had he. My friend today makes calls for me most accidentally. His knack for nonsense noises I seldom can bypass. Yet, without me, He Ain’t Heavy… He’s My sMartass.
My phone is not a person, but he thinks he is, somehow. My respect for him can worsen if whenever I allow The best of him to overshadow who I’m meant to be. My guest knows not his manners so that he will never see That between our best behaving there is such a wide crevasse And, believe me, He Ain’t Heavy… He’s My sMartass.
iPhone or iDon’t phone much, and it matters not to me. An android made on planted earth should never climb my tree. Anomaly would have it that I’d come to own a phone. This thing of mine may think he has a toy of his own. The feeling when I shut him down is much like passing gas And, I know that, He Ain’t Heavy… He’s My sMartass!
The vibrations of my being reach very far. They influence the whole universe, and I’m sure When the moth beats its wings in the rainforest deep It affects how an infant in Russia may sleep. I must know my vibrations are wholesome and pure. Guess I didn’t come here to leave things as they are.
I know everything vibrates, and all beings too. They communicate clearly and react the same. They respond and they integrate with other things That vibrate in the same way, and this, in turn, brings All with similar signals to boldly proclaim We’ve the right to affect things as all beings do.
As I begin to offer my vibe with intent I’m in complete control of what happens to me. My experience, fashioned in this simple way, Will be one of enhanced joy, day after day. We can’t help affecting things. It’s clear to see That maintaining vibration is time that’s well spent.
We are wanting so much to awaken in you Your memory of how beloved you are. You are pure love and wonderful in every way. We kick back and adore every song that you play. Sing away, precious angel. You are a rock star. It’s a pleasure to Be You. Your pleasure is true.
We just can’t sing enough about how good you are. Not a thing you could do would deter us from Love… Not a bow-legged stumble down life’s clumsy path… Not a judgment in error through life’s aftermath. By our measure, you shine like the stars up above. It’s our promise that that what you seek isn’t far.
Do take care, fleshed ones. There is nothing to fear. The whole universe backs you in whichever way You decide is appropriate. Who then are ‘we’? We are those who are dead now, yet ever to be. We’ve discarded our clutter, so we’ve much to say. And when you choose to hear us, or joy is sincere.
Someday soon the skilled Robot will handle the knife In a world where most humans will devote their time To the comfort of Being and living the arts. We’ll have mastered the tech world with all of our smarts. We shall live in a world that is truly sublime Where we all can partake of this treasure called Life.
But that’s all in the future. It isn’t right now. We are thick convolutions of cortical mass In a network of raw nerves and some that are rare. It would take a skilled surgeon to know what is there. Can a brainless brain surgeon become a jackass After signing his mind off to then take a bow?
I can tell my grand little ones, “You too can be
A successful brain surgeon, yet not have a brain.
You may even be able to write a good book.
But your soul becomes cabbage when stole by a crook.
If you don’t have a brain, though, you can’t go insane.” It is shoe-shining shameful. And that’s it from me.
This time, here and now, is a glorious one To partake of this planet’s beneficent ways. There’s a place for technology; also for art. In the end these two are not lightyears apart. Each does see in the other some reason to praise All the fruits of all’s findings. And we’ve just begun.
I am an extension of Source Energy In this body magnificent, able and strong. The amazing diversity this world provides Is the balance within which wellbeing resides. I am focused right here and now where I belong. I love being the one who is easy to be.
There is perfect balance from which to create Here in this world of bounty of wanted and not. No better time has existed ‘til now For beholding my treasure and marveling how That my true Source remembers what I have forgot: That my whole being emanates from that perfect state.
In fact, I don’t think that all email is male But in theory, a number of things could be true. A letter received in a mailbox these days Could mean anything cast to the silent airways. I don’t long for the old days. My heart is not blue. Perhaps I’m in search of some ‘thing’ to assail.
And if that is so, what’s the matter with me? One who’s daft would seek discord or cause for dismay. But my in box is loaded. That is not a curse. I must sort through the spam there, for better or worse. In my bliss, I’d be bothered to email all day. When it comes to mail gender, I let matters be.
I see mail that’s on paper and on the touch screen. I am hetero-postal in so many ways But with mail, I like female. It comes with some grace. And with email I feel like I’m running a race. I must conclude, then, that it surely pays To do mail in private, for better hygiene.
The Dump has much lesser to do with the rump Than the Art of the business of letting words flow. With the mind of a child, they flow through me with ease. I feel comfortable sitting and plunking the keys. Is the gist of my writing for others to know Of my heart in small pieces or in one big clump?
Well, the answer to that is I write every day. It’s my goal to be regular, clear and carefree. I have cranked up my pace from a slow running start To the point now that I’ve come to master my art. I would like that my words are for others to see. But that doesn’t deter me. I’ll see it my way.
The Art of the Dump is a daily routine Then I shower and shave, and move steadily on To whatever the new day will offer to me To consume and digest more so others can see What words I have fashioned to offer next dawn. I enjoy what I’m doing. Is this clearly seen?
The Financial Report is brought to you today By our sponsors who turn out to be quite a few. There’s the red, white and blue, conflagrated in green. There are nods, winks and subtle cues that are unseen. There are talking heads tethered to outlook askew. What to make of a leader who must have his way?
Can a nation be run like some southern plantations With workers for indoors and some for the fields? Those who like being niggers say “yes, Suh” to him. They will dance to his antics, although he’s quite dim. When he’s due for a shoe shine, their loyalty yields A safe job and smooth sailing, and good slave relations.
I will NOT be your nigger, says one under oath. I’ll ignore your sweet nothings and perverse embrace. I do not enjoy being left in a room With a beast who would just as soon hand me a broom. When I’m near a slave owner, I’m in the wrong place. Racist paradigms stifle our ‘financial’ growth.
I am life everlasting – an eternal being. There’s no such thing as death in the much larger scheme. I find time to breathe more and to move myself some. I relax in my knowing I’ll always become In a new form or being. Now that doesn’t seem Like a raw deal. I’m best when my soul is agreeing.
In grace, I may choose to relax and allow My transition back into that which I still am. Every time I return to non-physical state I release all my fear and forget about hate. I do not have to think that my life is a sham Just because it will ‘end’ some day and quite somehow.
Foreverness is the true nature of me. My non-physical self is wise, loving and pure I am Positive Energy flowing through form. This is so of all beings. We make it the norm. There’s no life, love nor liberty I need secure Because life is eternal. My job is To Be.
There are Positive Aspects that flow through my day. I do look for the nuggets my living reveals. If I shake life’s pan lightly, I’ll know not what’s there. If I do it deliberately I’ll be aware Of the treasure experience often conceals. All that’s not filters through me. I like it that way.
Within every atom and sub-part thereof There is wanted and not wanted. That is the way That we move toward what’s better – away from what’s worse. If I didn’t have contrast, that would be a curse. I can say that, in hard times, I’m willing to stay To experience all that I can in pure love.
By my looking for Positive Aspects each day In wherever my focus may happen to be I maintain my connection to inner wellbeing. My day does depend on the way that I’m seeing. I do mine my experience. That is the key To a joyful existence the most natural way.
My Decision to reach for a thought that feels good Is a powerful one, as it serves many ways. It is good that my thinking, deliberately led, Manifests in a network consuming my head Wherein thoughts that are good ones can linger for days. I’m the engine who IS, not the spent one that could.
The thought that feels better reverberates from Deep within me so pathways will open up wide To wellbeing abundant as sand on the beach. I can think my way clear. I don’t have to beseech Someone outside myself as a surrogate guide. I can feel what to think, then predict all outcome.
So, the thought that feels better is one to reach for. I can feel my way there if my thinking gets rough. It’s a simple decision – one easy to make. I must choose my thoughts wisely for wellbeing’s sake. My wellbeing and joy are most surely enough Yet it turns out to be far beyond what is more.
No monster is hanging out under my bed Nor in the closet nor under my skin. No ne’er-do-well being exists in my head. I do not harbor thoughts about seeing folks dead. If I trip about safety, where would I begin? I’m not one who is crazy, nor easily mislead.
I exist in a place where wellbeing is sure. It’s an absolute promise that I will be well. No if’s, and’s, nor but’s can contaminate me So again and again, I must know that to be. Mother Nature’s a Good Witch who’s cast a fine spell And within it, for every dis-ease, there’s a cure.
I am evidence of that which wellbeing knows. I must know this and practice this thought like a song. I can be an example, in light of my path, To give others a view of birth’s aftermath From a soul who believes that not much can go wrong In this world of sheer contrast where wellbeing flows.
Those who live in Where Ohming where ohming is done On the fly and at random and much of the time, Know resistance that’s measured can sometimes be high. The electrons, in those cases, toil to get by. Yet, they practice law freely in their paradigm Where the practice of ohming is done just for fun.
One who wouldn’t dare ohming, Where Ohming would scorn To the hilt, and it matters not who that one is. Being ohmed is a right every circuit must share. There is such joy in ohming that none can compare. It’s as easy as aiming and taking a whiz. That’s why folks in Where Ohming can toot their own horn.
Every place in Where Ohming where voltage may be Is a whole separate issue electrons must face As no one wants to measure the voltage that’s there. Folks are so used to ohming that they wouldn’t care That some voltage is present and wants to embrace. Those who live in Why Volting would surely agree.
Happy Birthday, Dear Violet. This one is for you. It’s a long time in coming, but here it is now. For a fine girl who’s practical, fun and at ease… Who brings pleasure and comfort to all whom she sees, I would give you myself if indeed I knew how. But perhaps I can manage with words just a few.
You take care of yourself. I can see that it’s so In your determination to do what is right. Behaving most appropriately is a skill. For some folks it requires a bit of hard will. I remember the night when we had a great fight. You’re a teacher of passion, I want you to know.
There is no single day that goes by without you On my mind, in my heart, in some part of the day. And my words are packed loosely in cumbersome verse. Seems our lives were a play where I didn’t rehearse. To the child who is grown now, I just want to say I would be less without you, and that’s nothing new.
As I pass through the corridor referenced by joy I can and do brighten my path to desire. People say, “When I get ‘that,’ then I will feel great.” But one must feel good first. There just is no debate. My true feelings are key, and with them I acquire What is best for my questing. This is my best ploy.
I am most determined that I will feel good As I traverse the pathway to what is my goal. Once a while, when I step, there is nothing beneath. Then I cling to the path by the skin of my teeth. It seems hazardous taking my heart on a stroll. My path is well lighted and well understood.
I will not settle for less, from now on, Than my feeling good often – not all the time so. Every detour through discord uncovers a clue To a better path forward and faith that is new. A new lantern will light up the pathway I know Towards my own heart’s desire to which I am drawn.
This cosmic machine is quite big enough
To fulfill my intention, whatever that be. Apparatus Magnificent has every means To provide what I ask for through daily routines. Sometimes, the big gears are not easy to see. But it’s not that I’m weak. I don’t have to hang tough.
Whatever I give my attention to grows In its strength of vibration. The universe, then, Conjures all things that match where my focus is great. It’s like matching a profile when finding a date. If you find one who’s tragic, start over again. When I focus on purpose, my wellbeing flows.
This cosmic machinery works like a charm. It is infinite Source that cannot be run down. It produces whatever each creature decides. Whether goodness or badness, our hearts are our guides. I can pause for a moment, when wearing a frown, To refurbish my meshing with minimal harm.
My health and wellbeing are natural to me. I could hang out forever and not age a day If I really believed and I knew that I could. I agree that this concept is not understood By the masses who live life in mass disarray. I am one of those masses, I’m grateful to see.
Many humans have lived long in excellent health, Long ago in Before time when people had sense. Or perhaps they had none, and God cut them some slack. It is better to live long than keep coming back. Although focusing long, here, one’s life gets intense. If one lived past a thousand, he’d have to go stealth.
I am free to make choices about how I live. I can live without illness or trouble or pain. I don’t have to create a dis-ease to procure An excuse for my leaving this earth quite unsure If I could have died healthy. I’m best to sustain My own purpose for Being Well, which is to give.
So alive in this Schoolhouse, our minds are abuzz With the brick and the mortar… what holds it in place. I’m a part of the puzzle. My mind is aware Of fantastic creation; there’s none to compare. Seems we have enough time. We’re not running a race. We like figuring things out, and that’s just because….
We have nailed down the atom and most of its parts Though that bugger is tiny, made mostly of space With leptons, exceptons and hardons, a few, And a dozen more who-ons from out of the blue. These thinglets procure a degree of embrace Through Pistachian Providence, where it all starts.
Within such a field, most particulate flow As they take on some mass much according to spin. But the Petron Pistachian, not seen ‘til now, Has completed the puzzle, and this will allow Every scientist breathing to wear a big grin. This Pistachian Presence is good stuff to know?