Archive | August 2017

The Machine That Minds Us

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We’re a great big machine of industrial strength.
It’s a kind of democracy made of two poles
Not the north and the south poles as war would suggest
But the right and the left poles in heated contest.
The machine burns a fuel that is made from our souls.
We machine operators are kept at arm’s length.

The gigantic machine fuses cause and effect
In a manner that defies the logic of man.
It’s been given a kick start to move on its own.
It is now automatic. Momentum has grown
To the point where it takes big smarts to understand
How it functions now after some time of neglect.

By the way of the righteous and raw energy
We are fed to ourselves in a synchronous way.
The hot steam we let off and the consequent soot
Make some wonder if something unfair is afoot.
As it tends torque to turbine we might as well stay
On some path toward some light in the hope some will see.

You May Call Me O’Dude

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You may call me O’Dude and I won’t find that rude.
On the contrary, I feel it suits me just fine.
It’s a name that is general, and to be fair
It’s a name of affection from people who care.
I may not know your name and you may not know mine.
But we’re all here with tons of intention accrued.

I’m a friend of the friendly and friendless as well.
We are all in this creation. None are left out.
I would think we are here to uplift and respect
One another – a virtue we all can perfect.
If you think you don’t know me, I’ll leave you no doubt.
I am mirrored among you with so much to tell.

Know O’Dude has a message in that he has none.
There’s no trade-off for being who I need to be.
Not a name can have meaning unless it has wealth.
Not a name taken lightly will lead to ill health.
I’m a dude undercover. My spirit is free
To create as I’m living and having much fun.

The Future Is Not Real

What will come is imagined. It cannot be real
Because as one approaches, it then becomes now.
We can wait all we want for the future to come.
We can look toward the future ‘til eyes become numb.
But the future is now ever always somehow.
No such thing as the future can this now conceal.

What will come, as a construct, is birthed in the mind.
That which I call the future is meaningful to
I who must have my reference points for all my dreams
But I’m dreaming it all now however it seems.
This right now is a stable point for me to do
All I can to uplift myself by being kind.

It’s like chasing the sunset while speeding due west.
If I ever caught up with the future, there’d be
Such an ending of space time for me or for all.
But I can’t catch up! That’s how it is on this Ball.
Many futures become now as far as I see.
They become real by virtue of now’s I invest.

Abrahambra Cadabra Dispels All the Rumors

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Abrahambra Cadabra, Magician at Large,
Had her fans doing back flips to find out just why
She dropped out of the limelight to everyone’s shock.
Some had set up a vigil for prayer ‘round the clock.
She’s emerged from seclusion to breathe a brief sigh.
Had she taken some time for her soul to recharge?

This had nothing to do with her twin sister, Kate
Whom she’d turned to a chicken for upstaging her.
This had nothing to do with her romance with Keith
Though she’d only bump ugly with him underneath.
It turns out that her absence concerns her chauffeur.
Is he now a pineapple? We’ll just have to wait.

Miss Cadabra cadabbles in mystical things
As is true of her many fans throughout the land.
It’s no wonder the land makes the fondest ado
Of most frivolous happenings to delve into
When the starker alternatives tend to demand
Our attention toward hatred and all that it brings.

Huckle Buckle Beanstock

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My True Self is a person who’s in a high state
Far above all the contrast I find on the ground.
It’s a game we are playing – my True Self and me.
It will hide its self somewhere not easy to see.
Yet it’s out in the open where it can be found.
It will guide me by noticing when I feel great.

“Feeling Better!”, it tells me when I overcome
The conflict of the moment by making a shift
  In the thoughts I create. “Feeling Worse!”, it will say
When I let daily conflict lead my thoughts astray.
My True Self is a player who loves to uplift.
It can play the game well like the beat of a drum.

Getting ‘warmer’ or ‘colder’ was great as a child.
I had no trouble finding it given good clues.
And the player who hides it well knows where it is
So the one who is searching need not be a wiz.
All I need do is listen to the one self who’s
The most noble clue giver since humans were wild.

State of the Onion Address

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A sad state of affairs is the fate of us all
When sound Vegetable Science is outright ignored.
Though the onion is not an endangered species
We will cry when we hurt them, and some make us sneeze.
When one eats a raw onion, the mouth is a sword.
The hot breath becomes bated and ripe for a brawl.

The sad plight of the onion can be rectified
By our taking account of the facts that are clear.
We must accept our vegetables for who they are.
If we don’t listen to them, we set a low bar.
And, our onions are competent, though they appear
That they’re thin skinned and tend to not like being fried.

What I’m talking about here is nothing at all.
It’s an exercise and a good tweak for the mind,
Not a mind should be idle. That’s bad for the health.
It should penetrate consciousness by way of stealth.
A good mind that is nimble is one well designed
For engaging life’s challenges – big ones and small.

I AM the Center of the Universe

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It’s the center of all that is known to exist
That has baffled the minds of the best of the bunch
Of the bold astrophysicists paving the way
Towards a unified view that is destined to stay
In the consciousness as it confirms every hunch
That the center is everywhere. No place is missed.

This Big Bang that began such a long time ago
Is still going on now at a speed way past light.
It began as a pinpoint of tremendous mass.
It was singular, solid and devoid of class.
The great speck has now grown with unspeakable might.
How I got at the center is something to know.

When the speck came to be, nothing else was around
So, the speck was the center, entirely so.
Now, the speck, as the center, has taken on size,
It does not take a scientist to realize
That the center is everywhere it wants to go.
Every speck of the universe is sacred ground.

Buttock Brothers Hosiery

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We are Bob and Bill Buttock. Don’t give us no guff!
We have built a Brick Shithouse – One Hell of a store.
We know well what all women want next to their skin.
It’s a fact we know all things. So where to begin?
We’ve got feminine treats – affectations galore.
We are big businessmen who just go for that stuff.

We’ve no training in ‘Woman’ – no schooling at all.
Men can tell what a woman feels by how she looks.
If she looks like a flea-bitten bat on a fast
We can make her look healthy with duds that will last.
Our fine goods are of quality. We are not crooks!
Our commitment to help women makes us stand tall.

Stick your nose in our Buttock. Do come by today.
There’s a special promotional deal going on.
Buy a length of our hose at the regular price
Then we’ll shove you another one because we’re nice.
You may browse in content ‘til a new day will dawn
When all women of business will have it their way.

We Are ALL On a Spiritual Path

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I may think that I’m physical flesh, blood and bone
And that feels and seems so on the surface of things.
It’s the ‘surface’ I’m focused on – not my whole being.
In this world, I’m accustomed to hearing and seeing.
What can oft’ be perceived is no more than what brings
Sympathetic vibration to senses we own.

We are all on some sort of a spiritual path
Whether theist, agnostic or of no belief.
We are spirit before anything came to be.
All the beingness present is for all to see
If we sound off to others, we could cause them grief.
If we keep it up smartly, we could earn their wrath.

I can always be spiritual because I am
Of the dust of the earth but that dust made its way
Into being from nothingness simple and true.
All the matter we see came from ‘out of the blue.’
In my peace of that nothingness is where I stay
In full character seeming like I give a damn.

Got A Grip?

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Got A Grip? I just had one a minute ago
But it slipped away cunningly and awfully fast.
Sometimes when I think I have one by the balls
My firm grip becomes nothing. My spirit free falls.
How do I then recover from being downcast?
I learn what to hold on to. It’s worth it to know.

When I need a good grip I have learned to beware
Of those merchants who offer them at a cheap price.
Those unscrupulous bastards might sell me fake jaws
Then convince me to author, “For Whom the Tooth Gnaws.”
But my grip need not be some specific device.
It can be just an attitude – something like prayer.

I’ve a grip on my mission to know nothing more
Than whatever I’m interested in at the time.
I’ve a focus on clarity in my own way.
It provides me a vantage point from which to play
In a world where the contrast is somehow sublime.
I’ve a grip on just being my cause to explore.

Moral Compass

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What’s the Deal? Who’s the wise guy? Quit playing around!
Where the hell is that compass? I mean it this time.
Until now, it’s been kept in a high moral place.
I now realize, dear colleagues, that that’s not the case.
Giving full voice to racism, though not a crime,
Is the reason to make sure that compass is found.

We are all the king’s horses, and some, the king’s men
And our king is himself as a red horse’s ass.
When he kicks in his stable and scatters his hay
Many barn creatures high tail it rather than stay.
We’re The People. We make up the strong moral class
Who speak out when the king is deficient… again.

There’s no need for alarm. There is leadership still.
We shall guide one another by truth’s healing light.
We can pray for our kingdom, that we remain free.
We shall pray for our falling king that he may see
That there’s no place to go at the end of a fight.
He shall resign from office by popular will.

Just Live It!

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There is nothing to do with this life but just live.
There’s no sense in recording it for humankind.
Some may like viewing some of what I’m doing here.
I see creatures around me approach without fear
In my mind’s eye where dreams of the heart are refined
And where I realize I have plenty to give.

So, Just Live It, is wise and decisive advice
From oneself to oneself in the moment of truth.
There’s no rule book nor pattern nor Life Coach’s plan
That can guide me like my inner beingness can.
It’s a guidance that keeps me in touch with my youth.
Living free from condition can surely be nice.

I could be in denial that boredom has me
By my thin, short and curly follicular fuzz.
It could be I delight in not starting a fight
When the people around me would think that it’s right
To behave in whatever way everyone does
When in mas misalignment, we still can be free.

There’s A Spider In My Bathtub

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It’s a fact – I can’t tolerate spiders at all.
There’s no way on God’s green earth that I’ll get along
With a creature so ugly with long skinny legs.
It would be no less so if they were but just pegs.
I must kill the poor bastard, and that can’t be wrong.
It’s a lower life form, so that makes it my call.

And this house that I’m in is for me – not for them.
It is mine. By the will of my race it is done.
There’s no sub-human species that will replace me.
If I have to kill all of you black things, you’ll see
That my kind rules this world, and we have just begun
Our world war with all nature by way of mayhem.

I can’t stand to see spiders in my fine white space.
The mere thought of a spider sends chills up my spine.
My unconscious volition says, “Kill them on sight.”
I could rally and gather my kind by torch light.
If I die as I’m killing you, I’ll get the shrine.
I’m superior to you because of my race.

The Human Xenome

TheMagicRealist.com

Stop a bit for a rest here. There’s room for just you
And perhaps a few others whose asses fit well
In a seat that is child-wide with arm rests that slant
So that those who would think of reclining can’t.
Will our public park presence continue to smell?
Does the rest of the park think that we are a zoo?

On the other hand, who cares how others may feel?
We do things our own way. Our forefathers said so.
If confederate monuments obstruct the view
Of our moving past hatred, could this be a clue
They should stay there until all who love them will go
To the next life where no one here will hear them squeal?

As we take our last breath in this walk-around dream
We will care least for trinkets of causes and wars.
We will see that our broke bodies and our weak minds
Are of volatile matter wherein no one finds
Any spiritual solace. My witness is yours.
This fine park we partake of is temporal in theme.

Tacit Bits of TID

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Some things done on an average of three times a day
Keep us healthy and happy and fit for the world.
If we don’t do them regularly we grow ill
Then we end up relying on some sort of pill.
Though reactive precautions will leave the mind knurled
As we maintain ourselves well, our lives are of play.

Other things on the average will get people down –
Things like stressing and tripping one’s light right offline.
The good doctor will tell us to not do those things.
Too much trouble and ill health and sorrow it brings.
We ignore their advice often thinking we’re fine.
And when trouble besets us we’re caught with a frown.

 I like stretching my mind out three times in a day
Taking in only good thoughts like fragrant fresh air.
As I breathe them in slowly they reach every cell
Of my blessed bright self who deserves to be well.
Every exhale is to all the flora a prayer
Of communion among all in spirit of play.

I Can’t Get to More from Not Enough

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I cannot get to more from a strong place of lack.
Though both places exist, they’re dimensions apart.
If I’m worried and too often steeped in despair
There is no way in hell I can get over ‘there’
Where the grass is much greener and I feel more smart.
I can’t think that the universe ignores my back.

I can dream about more of something I could own
And I need not be petty. I could dream for all.
Those who will not don’t have to. Enough will partake
In most righteous solutions for harmony’s sake.
I can’t get to a good place by thinking too small.
Where I am right now is the place I must condone.

I must fully accept the place where I am now.
It can’t matter one bit how it happens to be.
The obscured silver lining will glint in the light.
I can get to that better place by feeling right.
The right path will unfold as I decide to see
Life will show me the right way if I but allow.

A Clear and Present Past

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Could the end be much nearer than we had conceived?
Will it come and go quickly to someday return?
History does repeat itself just as our lies
That become bitter truths when oft’ one of us dies.
I know something of hate. I can’t say that I yearn
To feel that way most always. I’d be self-deceived.

It just takes so much energy to fuel a fight
That is destined to drain all my resources fast
As the day I was born with bright light in my eyes.
If that light stood for white, I’d secure my demise.
As the tainted tin soldier commands from the past
His platoon that are present commune by torch light.

I could play that game well. I have seen it before
And I took down good notes that I’d never forget.
But it seems I’ve forgotten them. Ain’t that a shame.
I could ad lib my hatred and beef up the blame.
But I realize my discord will turn to regret
In the long run. I value my peace of mind more.

The More That I Fight It, the Stronger It Gets

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Seems the harder I push against what I don’t want
Then the more I attract the sheer essence of it.
It’s no wonder my eyeballs don’t know what to do
When the sameness of magnetic force does accrue.
It will sap my pure energy if I commit
To whatever is willing and able to taunt.

When I notice some unwanted thing on my path
I am prone to shout ‘NO’ at it. This is alright
Just as long as I engage the Turn of the Cheek.
This is nonsense to some, and it sounds rather weak.
But by turning attention away from the plight
I can easily count on a good aftermath.

My attention to anything is, in effect,
Practicing the vibration of that very thing.
So if it is the bad side, then give it a rest.
Give your thoughts to the good side, and don’t get depressed.
As I practice this method, my true heart will sing.
I’ll attract what is wanted in every respect.

The Weather Girl Thought that the Cameras Weren’t Rolling

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What amazing a profile the Weather Girl has
Whether sunny and bright or wet, cloudy and cold.
It’s a short presentation to tell what will come.
It’s a bit like astrology – nonsense to some.
It’s been said every Weather Girl does as she’s told
But this isn’t quite so if she likes modern jazz.

So what under the sun can a Weather Girl do
That would cause any moron to pucker the snout?
How one digests one’s media is akin to
How one wipes one’s behind when there’s not much to do.
To be entertained fully, we must check things out.
So I go watch the Weather Girl blooper on cue?

Take a chase for a glimpse of those fine body parts.
News is only a peep show. By moment we pay
For a flash of the headline and tons of bull fluff.
It’s astonishing how folks survive on that stuff.
But I’m just an old poet with too much to say.
So thank God for the morons, and God bless the arts.

Dream More, Act Less

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There’s a time to make use of the muscle and bone.
It is when I’ve achieved true alignment with me.
I can best reach that place by daydreaming my way
To creative enlightenment day after day.
As my dreams take on character, I can foresee
Any life I’m creating through focus alone.

When I set aside time to find images of
Only things that are pleasing, I’ll more often be
In alignment and in tune vibrationally
With all things I desire. My spirit is free
To receive all that’s worthy and complements me.
I am free to partake in the spirit of love.

In my space in alignment with what is my source
More inspired ideas are common affair.
I can get help from others with minimal fuss.
I can give up my job as an ornery cuss.
My inspired action leaves me quite aware
I’m extremely productive – a dreaming workhorse.

The Whole World Unfurled

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I’ve come up with The Unified Theory of All!
It’s my life’s work presented to you in a flask.
This elixir is potent for quelling the qualm.
It’s a magical mixture that brings about calm
In the brain that is plagued with no questions to ask.
You will ask them quite well. You will quit thinking small.

It’s a life full of questions. The answers are more
Than the human mind handles in comfort and ease.
I have found all the answers and made them all clear.
Bring your questions to me. I have nothing to fear.
I can see well the forest as well as the trees.
I indulge more in madness than ever before.

You’ve got questions? My answer is clear as a bell.
Just Get Happy, then dullness departs from the mind.
Everyone is a genius. We all are in touch
With the infinite source of intelligence such
That our means of access are uniquely designed.
Life itself is a potion, and we are its spell.

Nothingness Cannot Exist

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All of nothing becomes something when it’s perceived.
So no notion of nothingness makes common sense.
I’m not twitching my whiskers in some wonderland.
Because you have beheld me, I’m set to expand
As a thoughtform to tickle your thirst for suspense.
If I do this quite well, then my goal is achieved.

The ill concept of nothingness comes from the need
For the logical mind to know all that is known.
Science dictates the universe just came to be
From a mass singularity now on a spree
Of creating more somethingness all on its own
Until God only knows when, at increasing speed.

One can speak much of something or nothing at all
Yet they both have a substance more subtle than air.
In the mind of the being created to know
Just a little bit more each day, some thing will grow
To a new understanding no thing can compare.
Nothingness has no meaning except to enthrall.

Oh Drench Me, Dear Life!

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It’s a wonderful life. It is said here and now
In the present as much as it was in the past.
No condition need be so that I can feel good.
I tune in to my spirit as all creatures should.
If I’m playful about things, good feelings will last
For as long as I want them to. I just allow.

Fully Drench Me, dear life. Give me all that you’ve got.
Know my soul is a fragrant sponge thirsting for more
Of your sweet liquid lavishness perfectly pure.
It’s a joy to be living. Of this I am sure.
I am eager to savor what life has in store.
There is much more to praising than what there is not.

Bless the heel that may crush me. No harm can be done.
I am planted on earth but my consciousness dwells
In dimensions that parallel all that exist.
And this form, when it perishes, shouldn’t be missed.
This now moment is mine as it’s ringing my bells.
Life is less about fretting and more about fun.

The Articulomagnetic Outcrymeter

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The Magnetic Outcrymeter made its debut
With the dawn of humanity. It has evolved
To the point now where it can be relied upon
To inform us when faith in our guidance is gone.
It will help us to get any problem resolved.
When we read it correctly, we breathe life anew.

Today’s state of the art model features a way
to express as it measures the feelings in us.
It will send a strong signal from gut to the brain.
When it gets there then we can rejoice or complain.
When we mingle with others, we’re prone to discuss
All the joy and the turmoil that graces our day.

Simple joy is an outcry and strife is as well
Our pop songs and folk drama express this in ways
That enrich our awareness and strengthen our cause.
We concede it’s a universe governed by laws.
We give voice to our feelings throughout all our days.
We’re not meant to keep quiet. Our will is to tell.

All Is Well

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“All is well,” say the ones who are anchored in space
Free above seeming turmoil and climate affair.
From a vantage point vacant of rising degrees
Of innate social tensions that stir like the breeze,
Those who watch our world spinning say none can compare.
And, we cannot do harm to it. There’s too much grace!

“All is well,” say some good books and forces that be
Of a kind who are open to all that is good.
Those who tend to play life as a joyful game
And who hang out with others who do just the same
Are the ones to whom living is well understood.
I envision my life by how well I can see.

“All is well,” say the babies and children come here
From non-physical beingness. And from that place
They’d put forth their intentions. Their wills did decide
To take on this world fully with eyes open wide
To the truths that the old ones can no longer face.
They have come to teach us how to live without fear.

A Belief Is ONLY A Thought I Continue To Think

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A Belief is a Thought I continue to think.
It is no more complex nor less simple than that.
Every thought that is nurtured and tended to well
Then becomes part and parcel to where feelings dwell.
It’s as If thoughts and feelings are cooked in a vat
To be fed to our souls as a potent life drink.

Someone said, “Thoughts are Things,” and I know that it’s true.
Yet, I could not believe it when first I got word.
How can things that are nothing just up and take form?
Quantum physics is spooky… could this be the norm?
Yet our thoughts do become things. This isn’t absurd.
It’s the same as how stars take form out of the blue.

It makes sense to believe in something from the start.
We are made for believing. Our minds can’t resist.
I believe that this physical world we perceive
Is reality only because we believe.
If we did not, then none of this world would exist.
What is real and not real are not too far apart.

The Square Root of Two

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It’s irrational! That’s the whole reason it’s square.
Also known as two, raised to a stingy one-half,
This root makes no sense. One can check as one sees
Corner nooks seek the measure of ninety degrees.
One can see that it’s true, as it’s easy to graph.
The more normal the roots are, the more they’re like hair.

Ancient Greeks knew of this root and treated it well
With so many damned proofs it can boggle the balls.
Yes, this root is irrational. That can be seen
In its unending pattern subjected to preen.
Should we keep the irrational bound within walls
When the two right above them can party like hell?

Keep a root that is square if it pleases the pants
Off the people you pass in your daily affairs.
If your root is quite rational, you’re good to go.
If it’s perfect, you may want the whole world to know.
That is, though, if the whole world really cares.
It is not a good topic to start a romance.

Hello, My Dear…

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Your Attention, my dear, I am thirty years old.
Though my life had been peachy, I am in distress
As it seems I’ve been cut out of castle life for
My behaving so generously with the poor.
I’ve been put out to pasture and I must confess
That this story of mine has not ever been told.

Yes, my life in the grass is not easy, you see.
All those nearsighted knights with their poles are a threat.
I’d considered I’d bribe them so I’d graze in peace
But the bastards can’t see well and they are obese.
That I’m thin is a good thing. I’m willing to bet
That my fortune is safe while it’s stashed up a tree.

But I cannot survive in the woods very long.
And my dainty voice beacons your unanswered call.
You will get compensation for helping me out.
I am talking Big Moolah. That’s what I’m about.
All you need do is send me your fortune – that’s all.
It’s the kindest of worlds where we all get along.

Poetry Is a Higher-Level Language

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As if FORTRAN and COBOL existed today
And throughout all of history since time began,
We’re accustomed to language’s elegant ways
Of evoking emotions like disgust or praise.
We’ve been managed by our words throughout our lifespan.
Our behaviors are coded verbal interplay.

And, my job as a poet is not to bore you
With the same old ‘straight talk’ as our normal discourse.
Life is Deeper and Wider and Taller than speech.
Poetry disassembles for subtler reach.
I must bypass the mundane and go for the Source.
So, my work is Communion. I think yours is too.

Well along on life’s journey by now I’m amazed
Still at how words have sculpted our worst and our best
Of behaviors. I seldom find reason to fret
That I might lose The Poet. That’s not a real threat.
I shall keep my programming skills sharp like the rest
Of humanity’s word nerds who love when they’re praised.

Most Certain of Uncertainty

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It’s the biggest of questions that boggle the mind
Of the one on a quest to know most everything.
Does the fabric of space/time’s near infinite slope
Offer deep understanding or spiritual hope?
If our questioning questing does yield anything
Could our race as a whole be more loving inclined?

It’s a sea of uncertainty, constant as change.
The wild geese that are chased change their form on the wing.
It’s the bright shiny object – a clue to a clue
To the brick and the mortar that make up our zoo.
If we gained that much detail could that somehow bring
Us to better enlightenment? Does this sound strange?

I am certain that change is a constant affair.
Sub-atomic existences prove this all day
As they come and go often in minutest time.
They have laws of their own and cannot commit crime.
They define our existence yet lead us astray.
Would it be a trip if they responded to prayer?

How I Feel Today Determines My Tomorrow

TheMagicRealist.com, The Magic Realist, Magic Realism

If I’m feeling like crap today, that isn’t fair
To myself nor to anyone else in my world.
It’s my business to make sure that I clearly see
I must work on aligning my real self with me.
Every day is a blessing. I am never hurled
Into turmoil, indeed, with my focus elsewhere.

I must start by believing that things do work out
In a matter of time with no effort from me.
As I shift my attention from what is at hand
I can re-script today to be as I had planned.
With my mind in the right place, it’s easy to be
In alignment with self and resistant to doubt.

Self-awareness is virtue. It’s my saving grace.
And because it is mine, it is yours just the same.
If I should encounter you on my best days
My true brilliance could lift you. My love should amaze.
That does seem a bit lofty, but life is a game.
When I go for the high stakes, I fly like an ace.