Tag Archive | flight of thought

Steak Bony Blue

TheMagicRealist.com

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 Walk My Own Path Toward Joy

TheMagicRealist.com

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 own path enhances my days.

Universal Law Is My Friend

TheMagicRealist.com

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.

Every Emotion I Feel Is Guidance

TheMagicRealist.com

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.

SATA Power / SATA Data

TheMagicRealist.com

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

TheMagicRealist.com

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 This Glorious Body

TheMagicRealist.com

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.

Algorrhythmia

TheMagicRealist.com

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 Vibrations Affect the Whole Universe

TheMagicRealist.com

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.

How Wonderful I Am

TheMagicRealist.com

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.

Brainless Brain Surgery

TheMagicRealist.com

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.

It’s A Glorious Time To Be Here and Now

TheMagicRealist.com

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.

All Email Is Male

TheMagicRealist.com

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 Art of the Dump

TheMagicRealist.com

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

TheMagicRealist.com

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.

My Life Is Eternal

TheMagicRealist.com

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.

Nuggets of Experience

TheMagicRealist.com

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.

I Can Always Reach for a Thought That Feels Better

TheMagicRealist.com

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.

There Is Nothing for Me to Guard Against

TheMagicRealist.com

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

TheMagicRealist.com

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.

Pathway to My Desire

__TheMagicRealist.com

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.

The Universe Is Big Enough

TheMagicRealist.com

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.

Natural Well Being

TheMagicRealist.com

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.

In Pursuit of the Petron Pistachian

TheMagicRealist.com

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?

Selfish Enough To Feel

I am proud I am selfish enough to feel good.
I’ve been practicing quite long to get just this way.
I give service to others, but that’s by the means
Of my serving myself first, just like snotty teens.
But I’ve learned not to act out in foolish display.
I should feel good on purpose, as all creatures should.

Feeling good indicates my connection is strong
To all of the good things that life wants to share.
All the good things like clarity, wellness and love,
And a kinship with planets and stars up above.
Feeling good is quite simple if you really care
About living a life where not much can go wrong.

Feeling good is my motto. It’s my core belief
As I dance in this fun world with life by the hand.
A belief that is core simply means that it’s strong.
As belief becomes stronger, it shouldn’t take long
For my dreams to unfold as if by my command.
Feeling good is like breathing, and that’s a relief.

As I Breathe Deeply, I Feel Myself Thrive

TheMagicRealist.com

I enjoy breathing deeply this air I take in.
It is all that I need for my body to heal.
The air has most everything most bodies need.
As I breathe it in deeply, each cell will succeed
At maintaining wellbeing and health that’s ideal.
If I want to feel good, breathing’s where to begin.

I can feel myself thriving when I take a breath.
Every part of me wakens and takes life anew.
And when my parts are happy, I’m happy as well.
Breathing in, and then out, will do well to dispel
Any leaning toward sickness. Good breathing will do
All the goodness it can to prolong me from death.

By relaxing myself fairly often each day –
And, of course, breathing deeply, with focus of mind,
I enhance my own thriving, and that of my world.
I enjoy the fruits of wellbeing unfurled.
I am better off not breathing air that’s unkind.
It is best to unwind the most natural way.

Full Term Termite

TheMagicRealist.com

Have you heard of the homeless? Then give me a chew.
I know much about hunger. I have it all ways.
From cellar to ceiling and all in-between.
I will eat in the dark where I shouldn’t be seen.
I chow down like a mother with every due praise.
I enjoy making babies, and not just a few.

Science says that I’m sexy. It flatters me none.
And besides, I can do it however I please –
Upside down in a trance in a crevasse somewhere.
I control my whole tribe with my scent in the air.
We don’t treat our men harshly. We’re much like the bees.
We like screwing and building and having much fun.

But we do have to eat, and our diet is wood.
We could go for particle board for a while
In the houses of people who tend to buy cheap.
Yet when that stuff runs out, our commitment is deep.
We will find what we’re after, and do it in style.
So complain all you want. It won’t do any good.

 

I Look for What I Want To See

TheMagicRealist.com

The Intent that is dominant deep in my heart
Is to go for exactly what I want to be.
Through deliberate choice, I accrue keen insight.
I appreciate, praise and enjoy – but not fight.
Sheer vibrational harmony is what I see
And it seems that it’s been this way right from the start.

I achieve pure vibration, in tune with my Source
And all that is good and delightful and fun.
When I simply stay focused on what thrills me now,
Then I won’t get distracted and lose faith somehow.
My sight is for seeing, when all’s said and done.
It’s a matter of patience and practice, of course.

It’s a powerful law that brings all things to me.
It brings all things to all creatures all of the time.
Whether wanted or not wanted, I make the choice
Of which things I will tend to. I am given voice
In creating my own life, serene and sublime.
I’m a well-groomed inspector with license to be.

Payola

TheMagicRealist.com

My brand is ‘Payola.’ It works well for me.
It’s what’s available. That’s what I’m told.
Though this crayon is heavy, I will do just fine.
What I see is, this color is yours and not mine.
What I’m taught, though, is subtle, and feels icy cold.
What is up with this crayon? I’ll say what I see.

I sure feel like I’m peachy, the color of fun,
Most especially when I’m at school with my friends.
And we all feel that way. We just mingle and play.
We prepare lesson plans for adults day by day.
But are they teachable? That all depends
On the bigness of damage that’s already done.

Take a load off that crayon,” some voice says to me
From the pit of my tiny soul. I can hear well.
What it tells me is, I’ll not be part of a bribe.
The reason for that is, I’m part of a tribe.
You will note, my existence is not one to quell.
No skin is a label that others can see.

By Polar Order

TheMagicRealist.com

Everyone is Bi-Polar by nature’s decree
There is not one among us who isn’t this way.
It’s a club not exclusive to any one kind
Of a person we label as messed in the mind.
Ups and downs are quite common to all everyday.
It’s not like dying, then claiming to be.

It’s a challenge to wobble along a straight line
Or to discard a crooked one for a renew.
If I fall to one side, I will bounce back in place.
If I fall to the other, I’m wrought with disgrace.
Though my options are many, I know but a few
When I’m caught up in anyone’s business but mine.

I can live with bi-polar. The coaster agrees.
When it climbs, I’m anticipant with patience none.
But as it descends, I scream out like a child.
I wave arms and holler as if I were wild.
There will be the next cycle when this one is done.
I climb hard to then become part of the breeze.

It’s NOT My Work To Control Others

TheMagicRealist.com

I cannot control others. That Is Not My Job…
Not my children nor anyone else I might know.
If I try to inflict my strict will, as I must,
I will lose such a battle; I’ll gain their mistrust.
I do suck as a parent. Most kids tell me so.
If I don’t deal with this, my own heart I will rob.

It defies natural law to make anyone change.
It cannot be done, in fact. That’s a good thing.
The laws of the universe dictate the ways
Each and every earth creature engages their days.
I respect that we’re not in some dank triple ring.
The ideal of performance will grow the heart strange.

I can’t control others, but what I can do
Is create a reality I can control
Where my soul is the beast, and my will is the hoop
And the circus crowd turns out to be a tame group.
I am not the performer, nor is that my goal.
One could say I’m the student. My teachers are you.

Ron Running YellowBook

TheMagicRealist.com

Some books are well read like the readers they own.
They don’t lie around dormant nor do their soul mates.
Some books stand amid dust upon vacated shelves.
Since their readers don’t read, they are left to themselves
To embelish what every good book advocates:
The desire of folks to explore the unknown.

Some books like to run, but no book likes to swim.
It’s a matter of preference what books like to do.
We don’t need to work out, but it helps, just the same.
We’re as different as snowflakes. We each have a name.
In fact, we’ve a few names, each giving a clue
To our true inner nature without pseudonym.

Some books come in yellow… Not all, by the way.
We’re a multiple mixture of chroma and hue.
Most folks call me Ron, and I run super-fast.
I’m the mild-mannered type. I’m not here to kick ass.
I am Ron Running YellowBook. That name will do.
It’s as weird as all get-out and easy to say.

Life’s Buffet

TheMagicRealist.com

…A magnificent lineup – A feast fit for kings…
This life is a Banquet for palate and taste.
And it’s simply no matter that things may be there
That are not to my liking. ‘No need to despair.
I just pass those things by. There is no time to waste
Finding fault with the lineup and other such things.

By default, I’m invited. I’m one of the race
Of the billion-fold dining in this earthy hall.
The fine dishes are many – too many to choose.
How could I sample all? Some things I must refuse.
I don’t think that my preferences cater to all.
We each eat life differently. That’s no disgrace.

It’s not wise nor appropriate that I complain
About food that I think shouldn’t be in my sight.
Because I’m just a guest at this feast like the rest.
I should bless people’s differences. This way is best.
You may like eating things that, to me, don’t seem right
But through mutual respect, we have so much to gain.

The Intent of Attention

TheMagicRealist.com

When one stands at attention, one’s focus is keen
To receiving command from the cause of such act.
And benign is attention that’s focused from will.
It’s a good thing to mention, and not overkill,
That attention is how we are prone to attract
All that’s nice and congenial and all that is mean.

I create what I’m living, for good or for bad.
I was born with magnificent guidance to know
Whether one or the other is affecting me.
With such guidance onboard, it is easy to be
In alignment with that which just wants me to grow
To my fullest with more joy than I’ve ever had.

As it is my desire, first off, to feel good,
And as I practice nurturing such thoughts that feel
Pretty good when I think them, this much I do know:
Only good things will come. Inner guidance will show
That whatever I focus on is the real deal.
I respect my attention. It’s well understood.

Eternity’s Portal

TheMagicRealist.com

My future cannot be about what is past.
The two are like apples and lug nuts to me.
Of course, I’m the same then as now, in a way,
But by growing, we’re distant, as night is by day.
If I live in right NOW, I can very well see
That this moment is powerful, but it won’t last…

…As, the next moment, powerful… fast on the heels
Of the previous one, will take form in the mind.
Not a thing that has happened pertains to right now.
It’s a cumbersome paradigm shift, given how
Our programming goes against how we’re designed.
One should pay better listening to how one feels…

…Every day, every second… from this moment on,
If I keep my now current, I’ll be as I am.
I’ll continue to think and to speak of what’s now
And then come to know that I’ve not changed, somehow.
Fresh new thoughts for today is a worthy program.
Through Eternity’s Portal I am ever drawn.

Desire Is the Beginning of All Creation

TheMagicRealist.com

When one ponders the nature of cause and effect
There’s a peace in one’s knowing that surpasses all.
It’s desire that causes creation, we know,
And creating in joy is what makes our hearts grow.
Desire is the calling; we answer that call
With the things that we do and the lives we erect.

In allowing desire to find way to you,
You not only gain pleasure from having it done.
You will have new perspective from which to want more.
If that sounds quite peculiar, it’s best to ignore
Any thinking that doesn’t yield absolute fun
As misfortune can never come out of the blue.

So, do want what you want. This kind world will comply
To the will that is in you and lighting your fire.
If you don’t follow through with desire that is strong,
Everything in your living may just turn out wrong.
There is nothing to shame about full-blown desire.
What is shameful is scorning the will with a sigh.

Rain Sylvania

TheMagicRealist.com

There’s a thing about rain that my heart won’t disdain.
It will keep folks inside, out of others’ affairs
So their shape-shifting eyes, in their neighborly fare,
Can’t catch up on my business. Folks should be aware
That I do my own thing, not that anyone cares.
If you’re that hooked on folly, come out in the rain!

Put on your best tutu with water resist
And gavotte past my window with smartass in hand.
Take a me-mie of me as you’re tempted to pee.
I might stream you my shtick so you’ll do it hands free.
It’s a shame your garage door is shut by demand
Of a powerful Lady who seems rather pissed.

I dare you, dear neighbor, delight in the storm
Just the same as I do but with just a slight twist.
Park your butt in your yard like you usually do
And collect all your intel with rain helping you
To deliver wet gossip no sponge can resist.
I’ll enjoy the rain. You just stick to the norm.

To Feel Better

TheMagicRealist.com

Feeling Better’s the root of my every desire.
It’s the reason for anything that I could want.
Feeling Better, in fact, is the sole reason why
Any creature wants anything. Should this imply
That our feelings are fickle – a bit nonchalant?
They are guidance for us so that joy we’ll acquire.

If you had one goal only, then what would it be?
Were it to feel good, you would soon meet all goals.
You’d be happy, successful, and full of pure love.
You would shine like the light of the sun up above.
Know that heart is the master; the mind it controls.
Be successfully happy, and dare to be free.

Feeling Better gets closer to what we desire
And the two are connected in general sense.
Practice feeling good, then anything you give care
Will turn out just fine. Feeling good is like prayer
And our life becomes purposeful… filled with suspense
About dreams that come true and the lives we’ll inspire.

My Purpose In Life Is Joy

TheMagicRealist.com

One may ask of the kitten, “What justifies you
To just lie there immune to the chaos around
While we humans run ragged with cares up our butts?”

That which can’t be addressed will then drive ourselves nuts.
But the kitten will answer with softness of sound,
“I just purr for a living; that’s all that I do!”

There’s a lesson the kitten is willing to teach
To the human who often gets lost in the game.
The basis of life is the freedom to be
And its purpose is joy, most emphatically!
When one cares less more often, one might take the blame
For all others’ misfortunes, as heard in their speech.

I am freer to choose newer pathways to joy
With each dawning moment successive and pure.
In my joyous growth I do add to the sum
Of all that exists now and all that will come.
All-That-Is will partake, and my joy shall endure.
My life is my kitten, and I am its toy.

I Am an Expression of All Creation

TheMagicRealist.com

All that is physical came from what’s not.
I extend from creative nonphysical Source.
I am so much more than this body I know
Though it is part of me because nature says so
And also the law of this space-time, of course.
I’m of spiritual origin. This means a lot!

Am I the god that I pray to at night
Asking provident peace to engage as I sleep?
Do I ask The AlmightyThe One where I came?
Would it be blasphemy if we both were the same?
I am the good shepherd as well as the sheep.
We are one and the same, and that feels about right.

In this powerful now is the key that I hold
For allowing the flowing of Source that is me.
The better I feel the more Source I allow.
There’s no better feeling my Source than right now.
When connection is made it is easy to be
At my best, growing wiser and much less controlled.

This World Has My Back

TheMagicRealist.com

This world has my back and my mother’s brown eyes
Just as surely as all things I’ve ever dreamed of.
Since the world has these things – all existence, in fact,
I should call that wellbeing where good thoughts are backed
With the promise that goodness and kindness and love
Are my birthright. I don’t have to listen to lies.

I must reach for the feeling of wellbeing first
So that everything else will then fall into place.
If I’m troubled, I feel like this world makes no sense.
I oft’ sink into stasis when life gets intense.
To remember life’s wonder is my saving grace.
Pretty soon, lucid living will be well rehearsed.

I am selfish enough, now, to follow my bliss.
When I do so, I tap into natural flow
Of pure energy, positive and of my own.
Should I act like I’m happy? I’ve no call to moan.
So perhaps I should live what the wise ones must know…
This world has my back. There is nothing amiss.

Pillar Performer

TheMagicRealist.com

For my last day on earth I shall hang by the face
To a branch that is sturdy, yet tender and new.
To spring forth and perform natural acts is pure bliss.
I don’t take life’s meal lightly; no leaf I’ll dismiss.
I convert all to protein as fast as I chew.
Though I’m slow and deliberate, I run a fast race.

I’ve a lifetime to ponder and munch as I go
Automatic and focused on fattening fill.
In a multi ring circus no tent could contain
I’m an expert already and don’t have to train
For the feats I will die for. I do have free will
To remain from the spotlight. I steal no one’s show.

My death would come quickly if I became prey
In the beak of some dinosaur with a sharp eye.
Our act would end smartly, by nature’s demand.
Those who strive toward the big top will well understand
That the show must go on even though creatures die
And replace one another throughout nature’s Day.

Conceptual Hypothetics

TheMagicRealist.com

Hypothetically speaking, and straight off the grid,
And with utmost propanity possibly pure,
I must stand by my tank; I have me to thank
For positions I hold. With my wealth, I out rank
Any group that I chose. There’s a possible cure
To most any solution that isn’t well hid.

My tank is a treasure – a place of deep thought
On the puzzles I give it and pay it to solve.
I’m not bothered by facts; I kick back and relax.
My workers work best without me on their backs.
By token the same, though, solutions involve
Quite a bit of pure theory and how things should ought.

Thoughts are real things,” most wealth wizards have said
While the concept still boggles the everyday mind.
It’s a fact that all theory has birth in the brain
And when thought can’t escape, it will drive one insane.
My tank is not fancy nor one of a kind.
It’s a toy for the rich to turn gold into lead.

Frolicking Folksicles

TheMagicRealist.com

Frolicking Folksicles flaunting for fun
Among those who might eat them must take balls of ice.
And they’re colored, enhancing the eater’s delight.
Were they black and white only, it wouldn’t seem right
To consume them. Just looking would surely suffice
As one’s licking gets boring when all’s said and done.

Folksicles firmly propend to make peace.
It’s a principle pinnacle to their affairs
Of the heart and the mind and the spirit within.
With abundance of slurp, there is no need to sin.
There isn’t much else one could suck. But who cares?
If it weren’t for bright Folksicles, warring would cease!

What gets folks in a pickle, most Folksicles say,
Is the way we lose focus and blither head on
‘Til we sensate the melting – Folksicle in hand.
If our mess is sufficient, we voice our demand
That the sun should take cover – at least until dawn
So that Folksicle eating will yield no dismay.

Satisfactorial Combinatorics

TheMagicRealist.com

Suffix tor’s at the core of a syllabic war
Between what one wants and what oft’ one expects.
If believing is being without a sore clue
Then whatever you’re winning will satisfy you.
Any feeling of tension that thought disrespects
Puts a force field around what we love and adore.

Oh, Creator of Being, if you exist how
Then on earth do we know you? We’ve screwed with your word
Over centuries by now. When one speaks about facts,
We’re submerged in pure fantasy due to our acts.
What is known about God is well spoke by the bird
Who knows only Being and living the Tao.

Take a chance that your being is seeing its way
Toward a better believing for each now to come.
Be the one among many to whom life’s a breeze.
One can call oneself lucky as far as one sees
That a magnate’s no more than a lowly street bum
Who has cashed in on spiritual wealth day by day.

Utensoids United

TheMagicRealist.com

Utensoids United in condiment space
Sets the scene for first contact of quite the third kind
On a wall, in a house on a rock spinning ‘round
In its own starry kitchen where space does abound
And without incognito, they’re easy to find
Or to decline their visit, if that be the case.

Utensoids can stand being hung by the neck
And it doesn’t upset them to be used as tools.
Since they’re built really tough, you can’t use them enough
To uncover their cover. You could call their bluff
But they just might leave master cooks looking like fools
As in secret, they shape shift; there’s no need to check.

The Utensoids have come to keep watch on us all.
Not a single one wants to do harm nor insult.
If you grab a Utensoid, do so with intent.
You don’t want the damned thing to mistake what you meant.
If you handle it well, good will be the result.
If you’re cool with Utensoids, then stand proud and tall!

Talk To Me, Mama!

TheMagicRealist.com

Krakkabukkle-KaBoooom! That’s what I like to hear.
Mama Nature is talking. Let’s give her respect.
Whether quick burning arrow with rumble in wake
Or night whitening flashes that know no mistake,
Nature’s message is clear. Our fair ego is checked
By the Masterful Lady who crafts Atmosphere.

Show your thundermost cloud! Let me feel you shout loud!
Even though I can hear every whisper you speak.
There’s a world who don’t know you. You have every right
To react in a voice of intent and of might.
Strike me dead. I will join you. It’s truth that I seek.
I’ll commune well among you. To you, I’m avowed.

Why I make such a habit to hear Mother speak
Is a thing of scant value to ponder too much.
I just like a fine Mama who’ll run it down hard.
One is ill to complain that She plays the ‘wet’ card.
She’s one bitch you can’t fuck with nor lie to or such.
She’s the feminine version of deadly mystique.

Not In My Time Space Reality

TheMagicRealist.com

To the scientist centered in flat earth and Mars
The Big Bang occurs everywhere all in a flash.
Everywhere outside galaxies expands  in size.
This prolific phenomenon speaks through our sighs.
What’s outside this expanding is anyone’s hash.
What else could exist but space, planets and stars?

Now, the answer to that is a thing we call time.
It’s the fourth quad-dimensional piece of the pie.
Altogether, reality’s clear to perceive.
My perceiving is knowing in what I believe.
My wisdom comes partly from what’s in the sky
And the rest from attempting to make verses rhyme.

If I did have you fooled for a while, I’ve done well.
It’s my pleasure to do so for science’s sake.
Reality’s boring. It must be made fun.
I’m the son-of-a-gunest that’s under this sun.
Not that science is useless… That thought’s a mistake.
Now that this poem is finished, there’s no more to tell.

What Gives Us the Ass?

TheMagicRealist.com

This Ass we’ve been given… this judgment we hold
Toward those nations we feel that aren’t grown up enough
To develop big toys and display their might…
Who has given us right to tell others what’s right?
We are like stubborn children who like to play rough
With strategic mind warfare. This story gets old.

Some old kid on the playground is acting the fool
Like an overstuffed time bomb that’s ready to burst?
Why we pay such attention and crave being tense
Is the same as why others create such events
That then get nations talking and fearing the worst.
The mind of the ne’er-do-well is a fine tool.

Such is life during recess… No teachers in sight…
We have no playground monitors watching our deeds.
And our toys are quite dangerous; our threats are a bluff.
Are we players who know when enough is enough?
Not a player is crazy so no one proceeds
Down the ultimate rabbit hole without a fight.

We Know Stuff Already

TheMagicRealist.com

Hey, we know stuff already, though new in the house
With our feather still soggy from compacted space.
We don’t have complex brains nor chick self-help degrees.
We’re pre-programmed with guidance; we’ve no need for knees.
Such tools are for hoping and praying for grace
And for nurturing thoughtforms in line with the louse.

Our mother, herself, had no mom to look to.
She did hatch in captivity… nursed by machine
Yet, she knew how to raise us. All mothers know how
To tune in to what’s natural, indeed, with the Tao.
She scratched for us lovingly; then she got mean
Just to teach us a valuable lesson she knew.

Our dad is cool also, raised just like his mate.
He’s the one who said, “Dear, lay our eggs over here
Where those humans won’t find them and snatch them from us.
I will bring you your meals, so don’t put up a fuss.
When our babies arrive, they will live without fear.”

So, take it from us; inner guidance is great!