Tag Archive | philosophy

The Black Widow Is Benign in Spirit

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Seems the widow’s a bitch when she’s not had her fill
Of the lover before who escaped to live on.
Life is cruel on all levels – not just with the bugs.
We can suck dry our enemies and give friends hugs.
It’s the widow, in this case, who’s gifted with brawn.
She decides who she eats by the whim of her will.

But it’s only in this life the bitch is so mean.
Though to her it’s the natural feminine way.
From the next life she watches her babies evolve.
She will never behold them. It is her resolve
To make sure that they all get the chance, come what may,
To experience living among nature’s green.

Her next hubby’s the next meal though he’s not aware.
She will need a full stomach to make babies grow.
By the same token, hubby is poised to move fast.
Once the romance is over, he wants life to last.
But if he doesn’t make it, he knows where he’ll go…
To the afterworld where creatures live without care.

A Wet and Vibrant Dream

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Can one twiddle ho-hum in a trance while at sea
With the water so calm it could put one to sleep?
When I’m not in the moment I tend to miss out
On the fortunate happenings jumping about.
In this sea we call life we can go for a deep
Understanding of ourselves and what we can be.

I’m too busy, sometimes, with my head in my work,
That I seem to be sitting still as life speeds by.
Life can rock the boat gently to give me a nudge.
It can wreck it severely and I am the judge.
I can choose to be present or not even try.
That I’m offered the choice is one valuable perk.

Life is cast in a richness and wetness of flow
That surrounds and consumes everything that exists.
All of life is connected. There’s nothing apart
From the whole of creation ‘til now since its start.
As I navigate life it’s my soul that persists
In its quest to find meaning and joyfully grow.

But… This Map Is Sacred

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Please excuse me kind sir. I’m in search of a place
Somewhere in this fine city. Can you assist me?
What I have is this old map here. Hope you don’t mind.
I believe in this thing. It will save my behind
From a fucked afterlife. So, I’m sure you can see
I’m strung out on salvation and tons of God’s grace.

What is it that you say? This old map I possess
Has no relevance to where most things are today?
I have studied this map because God told me to.
And these long-ago landmarks should give me a clue
To whatever the Hell my God’s trying to say.
So I need to stay ancient. I vow to regress.

Could it be that the folks who lived so long ago
Had their own source of guidance in tune with their ways?
I can’t find many streets. Some no longer exist.
When I can’t find my landmarks I often get pissed.
Perhaps it is much better to live out my days
By my own inner guidance who’s easy to know.

To Allow My Well Being, I must Be in Joy

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We can learn much about joy by watching our young
As they take in each moment as water to sponge.
Their wellbeing is guaranteed. Life is secure.
And however they take life, their feelings are pure.
When provided a fun pool they eagerly plunge.
They’re composers. The songs of their lives can be sung.

How they do it is something we could take to heart.
We’re like broadcast receivers – the way we behave.
If I’m tuned to one hundred-point niner FM
AM stations elude me, indeed all of them.
I must tune to the happiness consciousness wave
If I want to give any good day its best start.

Indications that we and wellbeing are one
Are expressed in our feelings of passion and glee
And through exhilaration for each moment new.
Who’d have thought that our kids have the healthiest clue
To our living in joy with our spirits set free.
Everything about living should be based on fun.

Earth Trek

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These are the voyages we’re eager to take.
Is the purpose in coming to figure things out?
Some folks tend to do that and should think it’s ok.
Why not know what the parents know while we’re at play?
After all, where we came from seems mired in doubt.
As I gather my data I feel more awake.

I engage this amnesia made into a dream
Much as most other folks who partake of the same.
Somehow, I know we know one another quite well
In some other reality where we all dwell
In a place where we greet one another by name
And all things of magnificence are as they seem.

Our continuing mission is just to seek out.
We are gifted with strangeness and newness of heart.
We’re new life. We are civilized some of the time.
And at others we treat one another like slime.
We begin each away mission with a fresh start
And a brand-new adventure devoid of doubt.

When I See What I’m Looking For, I Know What To Do

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By my visualizing my favored outcome
The most meaningful action is always inspired.
There is not a whole lot of my crafting a plan
And then working to work it as hard as I can
Until I’ve lost ambition and grow to be tired.
I will focus myself where desire comes from.

As my wanting feels good to me, that guides me to
More of thoughts that are easy and make me feel good,
From that place of alignment, I am guided well.
My soul hears divine messages clear as a bell
And my work is to make sure that they’re understood
By the ego who may not believe all is true.

Action that is inspired is joy fulfilled.
There is great satisfaction in moving with ease
And in tune with one’s spirit. As life starts to flow
All the dis-ease about me will then up and go.
I accumulate valuable life expertise
Even though I’m imperfect and often strong willed.

No One Else Needs to Know This

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What the Bleep is this ‘Secret’ upon open scroll
Placed there eons of time ago and with great care?
Does the cosmos make puzzles for us out of spite?
When we finally rectify them, are we right
If we make of these writings a gospel affair?
There’s potential for folks to give up their control.

No one else needs to know what I’ve learned of today.
Not unless they are with me and singing my song.
I have no urge to preach to a choir who hears
Only that which they should notwithstanding weak ears.
When I keep the tongue tempered I cannot go wrong.
I speak only when there is something I must say.

It is not necessary for one other soul
To go hog wild and nilly to learn all about
Natural Laws of the Universe as I observe
Them in action among all the motives I serve.
I am the attractor of my life, no doubt.
No one else needs to know this stuff to make them whole.

I Feel Good When I Appreciate

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When I acknowledge things, I feel so very good.
It’s a fact that, when taken for granted, I may
On occasion make cursing and swearing my work.
And it makes not a difference should I wear a smirk.
I must be strictly mindful of where my thoughts play.
I must quit my downsizing things – that is, I should.

To appreciate things is the secret to life
And I’ve heard this said many times over the years.
Since I’ve heard it enough times do I live by rote?
There’s no way for my living to cause me to gloat.
I’d appreciate all things to banish all fears
And live happily ever and immune to strife.

I become the whole person who appreciates.
Over time I do thrive and my spirit is free
To appreciate good things I notice each day.
I fulfill every reason to be swept away
In my own way of being a creature of glee.
All the good things of living, my heart celebrates.

Whatever Grinds Your Sea Salt

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Some men love to spank Hanky when Panky is steeped
In some other dank business that’s not of their own.
Seems all warnings of blindness one never will heed.
He will keep on performing his most selfish deed.
He will wrestle that monkey until it’s full grown
Then he’ll yank it some more until it has bo-peeped.

I would think it sound nature to find full relief
In whatever which way one must do what is done.
No one has any right to climb anyone’s tree.
One could train a good squirrel, though, to do it for fee.
So whatever will put your hotdog in the bun.
Do it wildly and proudly, and don’t make it brief.

One would float a bad boat with a lead overcoat
So it’s not recommended, but all else is cool.
And whatever will make that drunk chicken stand straight
Give the thing a tight fistful, for passion won’t wait.
Don’t get caught with your pants down. You’ll look like a fool.
What can surf through one’s channels is done by remote.

The Cosmos Requires This Work from Me

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Is it daytime or nighttime? It’s not that I care.
I could glance at the corner to know which it is.
By not caring, I’m knowing that I’m on my game.
I can write through the night knowing from whence it came.
And its source will not let my mind turn into fizz.
I am constantly working. To me that seems fair.

All this work that I do… Who and what is it for?
Did I fall through a crack in the cosmos somehow?
Who on earth gives me license to do what I do?
There are others who do this… perhaps better too.
My authority comes from the ones who allow
Every being alive to achieve what is more.

Not a timeclock is present here in my workspace.
I’m kept track of by bosses not seen with my eyes.
They know well when I’m working. It’s all of the time.
Even while I’m unconscious I’m driven by rhyme.
All I know about time is it seems that it flies
As I’m doing what’s best for me at my own pace.

All the Months When There’s Hem

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Is there cause to cause mayhem though it may be June?
I should consult the Wiki folk. Maybe they know.
If I did a quick Google search perhaps I’d find
All the months when there’s hem so that I’ll stay behind
When those ripe for mayheming are willing to throw
All their sense toward the seizure by light of the moon.

 It makes sense that mayheming be done during May
Just as long as the heming is kept up to par.
If they outlawed June heming by April next year
Then would late April heming produce lesser fear?
Heming is much like J-walking. Some people are
Good at crafting slick short cuts to get through their day.

I’m for heming in May – not in June or July
Because warm months are those good for frolic and play.
I may mayhem in September as it cools down
Then partake of Oktoberfest while I’m in town.
Seems there’s no other month for mayheming but May
Though it’s outlawed in all months where Now does apply.

Evidence of Satisfaction

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I can find satisfaction within a small space
That is cordoned off mindfully upon this Now.
There’s no need to search hither, nor thither nor yon.
I can find something blissful to happen upon
Within any life circumstance. I can allow
Satisfaction to happen perhaps any place.

One could say that such mind trick would not work in hell.
That might surely be true if indeed one were there.
One could cry out in torment and billowing pain
Then remember he’ll never flash flood due to rain.
When I focus on good stuff, life’s not such a bear.
As I look for some novel things, I do quite well.

I can think of dear Abigail with her cold nose
And the fun ditsy dancing she does in the rain.
This – alone – makes my heart warm and fills me with joy.
I am not sentimental. I’m not being coy.
Simple logic dictates that there’s always some gain
In detecting my clues as the Evidence shows.

A Message from the Virgin General

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We all want to be healthy. I know I sure do.
That is why I eat only things I can digest.
Knowing that is not always the case, as I’ve found,
Sometimes I may consume what’s been cast to the ground.
What I swallow in error may keep me depressed
If I fail to eliminate all that’s untrue.

There’s a lot that is not healthy all around us.
I will pay some attention with caution in place.
With a mind like a trap, though, what I focus on
Can resent being caught and in no time be gone.
Though my health and my mind are tools I do embrace,
Staying healthy seems mundane – a chore to discuss.

I’ve an inkling for doing what wants to be done.
I’m my healthiest when I’m creating for fun.
I am earthy, so dogs in the back yard are cool.
Whether student or Prof. I find solace at school.
I am grateful I’ve no urge to tell anyone
That no work can get finished unless it’s begun.

Hitler Went to Heaven?

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Get the Hell out my face! You say Hitler went where?
I can’t take for a second what you say as true.
That dark ne’er-do-well bastard killed millions without
Any sense of remorse and much terror to tout.
When it comes to such scumbags I take grim view.
He should suffer in Hades for all that I care.

One can rest assured Karma somehow is at work.
That is if one believes in such things in some way.
Some believe that all deeds when performed while alive
Are deleted from consciousness like a hard drive.
As we step into spirit no discord can stay
As a part of our being. Thus, death’s a huge perk.

Those who know we attract what we most think about
Know that feeling repulsion or righteous disgust
Is a thing that comes naturally to mankind.
What can trip one and get one caught up in a bind
Is not knowing above all to willingly trust
That a God who is loving can heal any doubt.

The Big Question

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This one big simple question out-questions them all –
Is it good that there’s contrast, or should there be none?
We discern with our vision what’s dark from what’s light.

We compare subtle textures to see which feels right.
If we didn’t have bad times, we couldn’t have fun.
We perceive life by comparing big things and small.

There’s no struggle nor effort involved in the flight.
When the prize is in reach I locate it with ease.
My vibration is in tune with what can’t be seen.
It consumes what I’m after. My senses are keen.
If it weren’t for what’s not there, I’d flail in the breeze.
I must know what from whatnot to get through the night.

The big question is, Can I survive knowing that
Everything that I’m living depends on how well
I can tell what I’m wanting from what I do not?
I perceive life by contrast. This matters a lot.
I can navigate life like a bat out of hell.
There’s no blindness about me, nor will to combat.

Fork Out of Dodge

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I’m your Fork Out of Dodge – a proverbial guy.
I’m dramatic and forceful when it’s time to go.
Any fork undercover is grateful to be
Among those expelled first from Dodge most rightfully.
It’s the city most thought of when getting to know
The sensation of terror. The question is, Why?

Stuff can happen in any town. Why pick out one
To become the example of bad scenes to leave?
And since when does one’s safety depend on the fork?
People fork off in Kansas as well as New York!
Yet these questions are moot. I’d do best to conceive
My own clear understanding. It’s better than none.

I’m a Fork on the run and I haven’t got time
To be hanging around when the fan is turned on.
If you haven’t a fork who is stranded in Dodge
Then relax and partake of yourself a massage.
I will fly by the night. I will not wait ‘til dawn.
I am destined to grow toward a new paradigm.

The Brain is NO Mother of the Mind

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When the TV is turned on it has a nice sound
And a quality image through cable or air.
It may think that it knows not from whence it evolved.
It may ponder deep questions that will not be solved.
It may think that no signal would cause it despair.
But that’s NOT how the thing works. It’s not reason bound.

If you killed the TV… with a sledgehammer, say…
It would still get a clear signal from the One Mind.
But it wouldn’t receive on this physical plane.
It would not even function in this strict domain.
Yet the signal that lived through it is left behind.
The One Mind that’s transmitting has not gone away.

I’m aware that I’m conscious. My brain lets me know
Through perception. My senses tell me what is real.
I don’t think my receiver receives on its own.
Something Must Be Transmitting that’s yet to be shown.
When my brain turns to dust, the One Mind will reveal
All its secrets as I leave my hardware below.

Toward What End?

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What’s the point in my living? I will die someday.
That’s a fact that I’m good with, but while I’m alive
Do I have any guidance toward what is my goal?
Does the soldier-like cell by itself have a soul?
It seems now that I’m living, I’m doomed to survive.
Did some Masterful Being design it this way?

Toward what end is my being? Should I be the best
And the fastest among others who are like me?
If the cell is a soul – one who likes to play sports
And who fancies competitive games of all sorts
Then the cell has allowed me to physically be.
Should I feel like I’m special? Should I be impressed?

Mother Nature’s Machine is subconscious intent
Of all life that’s now living and all gone before.
It’s a psychokinesis done on a large scale.
It has gained much momentum so it will prevail.
My sole purpose for being here is to add more
To the whole of creation. That’s how it was meant.

Imagining The Imaginary

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It’s an ogre, this thing that we call the unknown.
When we try to define it, we go on a chase
Down through black holes and rabbit holes in hot pursuit
Of a unified theory no one can dispute.
One can say that the universe is a fine place
To consume worlds of wisdom that all may be shown.

One can think of a world that consists of pure thought
Where the objects are thoughtforms… ideals and the like.
It is populated by intent and belief.
With no issue of substance, one lives without grief.
One would not think of hiking or riding a bike.
One could run away thinking and never get caught.

It would seem a mysterious world has been found.
There is only a small bit of matter to see
Of this vast spatial fluid we travel within.
There’s a lot more that’s unseen. This is a big win.
Could it be that dark matter and dark energy
Are the spirit world? That would be rather profound!

Nature is Natural

A young Galapagos sea lion approaches Enric Sala's camera curiousy off Santa Cruz Island. (Photo credit: Enric Sala)

Nature is to me natural. Why call it wild?
I consume what I need just as all living things.
That’s except for you humans who’ve covered the land
And take more than you need by increasing demand
And where most live like paupers and few live like kings.
That which I would call wild is the race who’s defiled.

Never mind your grand wars and your carbon footprint.
One can witness your savagery in many ways.
And it’s not that I fear you’ll take over the sea.
You’re too focused, dear humans, in finding some key
To ‘unlocking’ what’s natural throughout your days
While ignoring what could be your most favored hint.

I’m not wild, silly humans. I live in sweet bliss
Under currents that take me where I need to go.
Every once in a while, I come up for fresh air.
I would say to you humans that I’m more aware
Of what’s wild and not wild. You could venture to know.
Get your thinking in order. Your terms are amiss.

Nothing Can Happen That I Can’t Believe

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Not a thing that can happen can happen unless
I believe it can happen in any small way.
Of the things that can’t happen, there’s no way to know
Because, by disbelieving, it can’t steal my show.
Nether things not imagined deflect from my day.
I believe in my God Given right to express.

The words ‘screed’ and ‘misprision’ I heard of today.
They don’t sound quite like curse words, but I could be wrong.
These are words of a high order, not often used.
In the context of government, often bemused,
There’s a deep need and hunger for getting along…
To get what’s not believable out of the way.

I believe what can happen and can’t are the same.
There’s no way that the cosmos will up and take sides.
And the cosmos is not playing games with us all.
It responds to all living things, big ones and small.
My believing in something by default divides
Me from others who don’t in this consciousness game.

That’s Not Allowed Here

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There’s a thin veil that separates heaven from earth
But we talk about ‘place’ as if it’s absolute.
The great world of the spirit is no place at all.
It would seem quite impossible for one to call
From one side to the other. That’s forbidden fruit.
One’s belief is the only connection of worth.

Just in case it’s the only connection one sees
It is all that one needs. Often faith it is called.
I can speak to aunt Martha who passed years ago
And who now offers fully what she’s come to know.
One good thing about faith is it keeps one enthralled
With sublime possibilities pondered to please.

One can build a contraption to link the two sides
In a manner consistent with physical law.
But our clever devices are left in the dust
By the spirits who made them. We’ll just have to trust
That our knowing what’s ‘over there’ could drop one’s jaw.
We contact them by default as they are our guides.

How’s It Going Today?

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Well, I got up this morning… The hedge needs a trim.
While I’m at it I might as well clean up that yard.
Though the leaves have not fallen yet they’re on their way.
In the meantime I’ll meditate, then start my day.
I know well how it’s going and life isn’t hard.
Things will work out as always. My future’s not dim.

I am God. So are You, as are all living things.
We have taken on form to give contrast a play.
As we do we define and express what we need.
As we help one another we cancel out greed.
We confront psychic crisis with public display
Of our loving and caring and all that it brings.

I should get some more weed killer while I’m about.
There’s a while before summer ends. I should be wise.
I can keep my yard clean. That is all I can do
Until I’m in the best place to offer what’s true.
How it’s going for me is a clever disguise
To embellish my own chaos rather than doubt.

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

TheMagicRealist.com

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.

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

TheMagicRealist.com

“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.

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.