Tag Archive | social commentary

Fun Filled Flavors Of Time

TheMagicRealist.com

It’s a good life! The moral revealed at the end
Of the old classic movie is reemphasized
In the smile in a short while, or falling in love
With the wonder of Being. The sunshine above
Wraps me warm with its freshness. To it I am prized.
What dessert made in heaven would I recommend?

 It’s a romp through a funhouse of utter delight.
Every sight that beholds me, and I it, reveals
Everything that is wonderful. Does nature rhyme
With all that I’ve become and in such little time?
I am confident that I don’t need training wheels.
From my viewpoint, I see that my future is bright.

Time tastes funny to me, and sometimes it is sweet.
I have not lived life long enough to harbor doubt
That the goodness in this world is bigger than bad.
Nothing much about my life can make me feel sad.
I atone on my own with no ego to tout.
My digesting is joyful, and life is a treat.

Global Guide

TheMagicRealist.com

Who believes in one nation? Believe in them all!
In this world of sensation, our experience
We judge pleasant or unpleasant. So, sensation
Is not always sensational, nor is it fun.
Stimuli from outside us, though sometimes intense,
Do not really control us. That part is our call.

We respond to sensations. We’re happy or sad
Or somewhere in-between the two. We are in tune
To the music we’re used to. Some people may feel
That what we care to listen to isn’t quite real.
We need not end up fighting nor dare to impugn
The sensations of others. That would be our bad.

We are made up of spirit – a set of ideals.
More than physical substance, we are consciousness.
If we can but explore that aspect, we can be
An enlightened and much saner a country –
One in which all are worthy of earthly success.
Any nation is only as well as it feels.

Most important to culture is finding the way
In the rhythm of living. We speak much of God
And the nature of heaven. How we feel within
Is the place where all thought and action should begin.
We need not then be guided by such a façade
As a toolbox of morals put up for display.

Other countries do consciousness better than we.
This is not such a put down. We’re good at some things.
Boundaries are inevitable in this life.
We struggle to support them, thus generate strife.
When we are of a right heart, enlightenment rings.
We need not seek for guidance on how we should be.

Lunar Return

TheMagicRealist.com

Suppose I am as real as all that I perceive.
That’s a bold hypothetical! I can’t be sure
If my being has meaning. Prue rage leaves no doubt
That perceptions perceive me. Why do I act out?
All existence to me is an ill with no cure.
If I felt any other way, I’d be naïve.

Is it because it’s Wednesday? I’m mad every day
Because days become vicious then shift into night
Then along comes the next day. All remains the same.
Life plays me like an audio/video game
So the way that I must act must be wrong or right.
Every month, when the moon howls, we both have our say.

Yet, the moon isn’t full now. Have I then misspoke?
It remains full of itself regardless of how
We on earth may perceive it. I guess that’s my point.
Tidal waves, like emotions, are doomed to anoint
Every moment that I have, except for right now
Where all meaning available I may evoke.

Destiny Design Fundamentals

TheMagicRealist.com

The design of one’s destiny is done within –
Not by someone’s agenda or tarot card deck.
The designing is done from the observation
Through perception as we come to the conclusion
That what is fundamental and truer than heck
Is that all things are cyclic. That’s how things begin.

As we come into consort with life’s ebb and flow
We partake of machinery divinely made.
And indeed we become it for but a short while.
Cycles do lead us nowhere. Is that nature’s style?
Were not life so ellipsoid, growth would be delayed.
We’re our source of geometry. We seek to know.

Everything is determined by myself alone.
It may seem that the universe moves me around
Like a cog in its clockwork. I have much control
Of how every clock tick reengages my soul.
Life becomes superficial if wound or unwound.
It is but a life lesson. I need not atone.

And we are a community – each much the same
In the ways we perceive things and form our ideals.
Our freedom is our culture. Friction is relieved
In the ways that our destinies are interweaved.
Those ways are everchanging. Designing reveals
Anything of creation that would show us shame.

A Master Plan

TheMagicRealist.com

Once, the whole world was clothed in fine Indian goods.
Always crafted with much skill, textiles was a thing
That the Indian people did superbly well.
Then, along came the British who blew that to hell.
Notwithstanding abuse at the whims of a king,
Art contained within people ain’t left in the woods.

Clothing worn by most people in this world today
Is completely synthetic or partially so.
That means it’s made of plastic. It gets in our blood
Through our soil, food and water. We wear and are crud!
Toxic microfibers, gathered data will show,
Are a world class polluter. Should we live this way?

Changing this situation can be ours to do.
All it takes is some consciousness in what we wear.
Though all are not from India, all can take pride
That there is still a model to act as a guide.
Ecological balance is placed in our care
Quite by accident perhaps to brand us a clue.

Why All The Frigging Space?

TheMagicRealist.com

There is space between everything – big things and small.
Were all space nonexistent, what then would remain?
Everything would be shrunk down to minuscule size.
Mass and energy would don a different disguise
But in terms of expansion, there would be no gain.
Self-contained Singularity… Does this enthrall?

It Should Not! It’s a notion for purposes of
Entertainment by threading the mind through the eye
Of the needle traversing the fabric of thought.
It is with exploration true knowledge is sought.
There is much more space than any thing else, but why?
Would I be disrespectful if push came to shove?

I’ve been told that the reason there is so much space
Is because it provides room. Much room with a view
Into infinite vistas is what we behold.
Matter is but the framework for journeys untold.
Is there room for improvement? What more can I do
To add something of value to my human race?

An Incredible Thing

TheMagicRealist.com

Children can be unruly without lots of space
Free of smoke and pollution and filled with bright light.
They can tell us what’s good for them. We could well learn
By means of trial and error. We needn’t be stern
In supporting their learning. Their keen appetite
For what life has to offer is our saving grace.

We consider the child who is troubled somehow.
Perhaps he has been orphaned and lives with some folks
Who are not well prepared to look after his needs.
He may act out in turn with unsociable deeds.
With disruptive behavior, the need is to coax
What is hurt in the child’s heart so love he’ll allow.

Gentle handling with a sense of warm loving care
And perhaps yoga practice in some simple form
Will do much to transform children who’ve gone astray.
We are best in supporting our children this way.
Would society flourish if this were the norm?
Our children are as healthy as we are aware.

Falling In Love

TheMagicRealist.com

I free fall in complete space. My life do I share.
Darkness is a cool warmth punctuated by light
Of a rarefied nature. I am meant to be
In consort with all goodness between she and me.
We’re not risen in loving as our souls take flight.
Unless something of me falls, there’s no love affair.

I’ve collected who I am for such a long time.
There is much to hold on to but much to let fall.
I know that in the falling, I’ll be that much more
In attune with the wants of the one I adore.
The expression is meaningful and a good call,
Being that, as I’m falling, I’ve no will to climb.

Someone else has become more important than me.
I do find it delightful and much like a spell
That is cast from a bigger source. So, with due grace
I succumb to my falling and fully embrace
Any space where my true love and I freely dwell.
Myself as just one being I no longer see.

Embrace Life

TheMagicRealist.com

God is all things in all ways imagined and not.
The existence of all beings merge into one
And become animated while yet standing still.
Every conscious experience adds to the thrill
Being supreme exuberance never begun.
What we know as divinity cannot be taught.

God becomes every human and wild and tame beast.
In all ways multiplicative, dichotomy
Is the mode of expression divinity knows.
Oneness is all-inclusive. Perceived highs and lows
Shift the focus from oneness in the quest to be
All there is to one’s being one may know the least.

Stillness, intoxication and exuberance
Are divinity’s attributes most clearly seen.
What we behold in nature and our complex lives
Is a part of the absolute. Being revives
The process of existence. Unlike a machine,
It exists through eternity. Need it make sense?

Beyond Right And Wrong

TheMagicRealist.com

Far beyond the dichotomy of right and wrong,
There’s a place to negotiate. I’ll meet you there.
In relationships, is that place called acceptance?

Rumi was quite the wise one. He breathed common sense.
Well in tune with the mystical, he had a flair
For expressing what’s hard to express like a song.

Love is one way to get to that space in-between
Our liking or disliking all that we behold.
But it is not the only way. It is but one.
Engaging with the texture of life has begun
In the moment one’s journey is left uncontrolled
By contingent discernment in all that is seen.

To be righteous, behaviors are scrutinized well.
To function in society, this is a must.
If one cannot discriminate, he’ll not succeed
In a world overcome with a measure of greed.
Is it wise, then, to nurture a strong sense of trust
In a world that can only be heaven or hell?

To succeed in one’s inner world, one must let go
Of all thought and emotion – all attachment to
That which causes selection to be the journey.
It is the destination one must clearly see
As devoid of duality. Can this be true?
Wise ones who’ve gone before us should very well know.

Matter Of Heart

TheMagicRealist.com

If I feel I’ve been cheated, I’m in a bad place.
Yet, that’s just what has happened. Should I go to war?
I’ve the right to seek justice for what has been done.
I can’t promise that I will not harm anyone.
In my blind, mindless rage I must even the score.
I’ll exact some remorse and do so with no grace.

As I replay this monologue, like déjà vu,
Can I see what is happening as a program
That I coded my damned self? The mechanics speak
Louder than any morals the pure heart may seek.
People do as they please, and they don’t give a damn
For the heart that is broken from lack of clear view.

Morals and life’s mechanics seem always at play.
What has broken is an understanding. That’s all.
People misunderstand things as par for the course.
I can learn to accept that or live with remorse.
Am I not a whole human? How then did I fall
For the myth that some other will brighten my day?

Creator and Creation – This relationship
Is the one most important. It is absolute!
Those with humans can’t be so. They’re subject to change.
I could hook up with dead folk, but that would be strange.
Should I thank the damned bastard and yield a salute,
Or just carry on smartly and not give a rip?

People are free to live life. I’m free to live mine.
It is then most acceptable that I find peace
In the knowing that in growing complete, I’ll be
Most attractive to those most in common with me.
There’s no such thing as cheating. There’s only release
From one’s own self-undoing. All is well and fine.

Culture Beyond Compare

TheMagicRealist.com

Cultures differ in ways in which time is perceived.
Westerners think of life on earth in terms of time
Left to do things and gather things while we’re still here.
By the time death approaches, we cower in fear.
I am here, but I’m mortal. It seems like a crime,
Therefore, I seek a system that is well believed.

The way some other cultures look at the whole thing
Is that life is a process. When we are aligned
With the Cosmic Geometry expressed as God,
We become full of life. Now, to some, this seems odd.
If large groups could achieve this, would they be more kind
In relations with others? What hope could this bring?

The skill of a good teacher to bring down to earth
Principles of the cosmos is something valued.
Any form that has motion can’t exist without
The same force animating all, without a doubt.
All in all, with these simple facts, I may conclude
That immersion in culture is something of worth.

The significance of being human is that
We can all come to know this. We may find relief
In believing that death is another name for
Life unknown past a certain time. Could there be more?
We cannot know the answer. This is our belief.
Fear is all that our culture would need to combat.

Self-Transformation

TheMagicRealist.com

Any change worth one’s going through offers the chance
For the growth of the spirit. The mending of ways
That have not been as useful in reaching our goals
Is a personal process no one else controls.
Is it appropriate then to give ourselves praise
In the midst of a most transforming circumstance?

No matter who we are – how accomplished or strong
on the path we have chosen – no success is found
Without some sense of grace in our arrogant lives.
One can be most successful if one simply strives
To become more accomplished at standing one’s ground
In a world all believe in and were all belong.

What Is Self-Transformation? It’s changing the way
We, in each given moment, affect what is real.
What will make oneself a wonderful human soul?
To answer this correctly is not quite the goal.
It’s the quest in the questioning and how we feel
That can bear ample witness and brighten our day.

Attachment And Suffering

TheMagicRealist.com

It is hard not to suffer. Like taking a breath
Of the short life I’ve lived, I inhale tragedy.
Nothing else should become me except for my grief.
Friends and counseling offer but little relief.
I’m attached to my suffering. I cannot see
That attachment to living must well include death.

Can I speak of detachment the way others do
Who know nothing about it but what they have read
Published in someone’s textbook of Buddhist belief?
Would someone with a moment give that to a thief?
Krishna was quite involved with life. We are misled
By contingent complexities. What else is new?

I’m detached if I fear pain. I want to withdraw
Then construct for myself an escape hatch through which
I will not have to live life on its harshest terms.
I would not then be living. Yet dying affirms
Absoluteness of process. The call to enrich
One’s own path through survival is natural law.

The Halstead Of Heindseidtner Hollow

TheMagicRealist.com

Sunny woods with fresh hallways is where we should be
At our best happily ever after our win
At the clubhouse, notwithstanding those who, in need
Of the basics of living, unveil social greed
That somehow can’t become us. In freedom we grin
As the world far beneath us is too small to see.

All of fate that beholds me prepares me for this
Life of untold abundance. We’re high on the fog
Of exhaust from our industry. We’re in the black!
That is all that has meaning, without thinking back
To the backs we have weakened. The strong epilogue
To our story is something we don’t live to miss.

Safely nestled and nourished in prime nature nook,
We, apart from the riffraff, have evolved a notch
Above most folks. This entitles us to the best.
There’s enough for the few of us. Screw all the rest!
We were born to have plenty as you were to watch
How this life game is played well. Do have a good look.

A Knee To The Anthem

 

TheMagicRealist.com

When there is call to action, which one should come first?
…The one of my own business or that of my race?
…Or the one that we all need to take to be free?
Other nations behold us, and they clearly see
We’re united in many ways. Can’t those displace
What is doomed to divide us and bring out our worst?

People fought for this nation and paid the high price
Out of heartfelt commitment and sheer human grace.
Should I then disrespect them because of my beef
Having nothing to do with their survivors’ grief?
My issues I’ll attend to. It isn’t my place
To put principle above someone’s sacrifice.

We’re the melting pot model, diverse in our ways.
When they clash – often bloody – we struggle to find
Resolution, yet still we remain in one piece.
There may not come a time when the struggle will cease.
But we are of one nation. In that, we’re defined.
We’re a country that does need its consciousness raised.

I believe in the Anthem. That’s where it all starts…
With a hand on the heart and our eyes on the Dream.
We were taught this decades ago. Haven’t we learned?
We may protest in other ways. Are we concerned
With issues facing all of us? We Are One Team!
We would do best to honor the Dream in our hearts.

An Enlightening Experiment

TheMagicRealist.com

We become scientists by the nature of things
So that methods developed to yield the most good
Become our way of living. Therefore, we’ve the need
To come up with effective ways to keep us freed
From conscious misperception and hidden falsehood.
We can observe The Moment and all that it brings.

All I have is this moment. I don’t have the last
Nor the one coming soon or much further along.
This moment is the only thing that does exist.
All the rest is illusion that can’t be dismissed.
In the moment that is now is where I belong.
All of time and space pales within consciousness vast.

Is this moment inevitable? I should ask.
In the answer, stability can be assured
For the moment – the one upon which all are built.
In the moment, I’m mindful and absent of guilt.
With experimentation, can my ills be cured?
It is quite possible with my will put to task.

The Affections Of Phineas Phuthworthy

TheMagicRealist.com

Phineas is a fun guy. He means no one harm.
Yet, sometimes he gets frisky like a puppy dog.
Friends and family love him. He’s not a pervert.
Not a thing about him should put one on alert.
Would one fear being kissed by a funny bullfrog?
We can know that our Phineas knows how to charm.

Why then would women scorn him? I know no all do.
Yet should he run for office, he wouldn’t get far.
Most women would adore him and give him their vote.
Others would castigate him, then that’s all she wrote.
Do men’s innocent actions define who they are?
Does a worse man than Phineas satisfy you?

Phineas is an old man. Does this make him wrong?
Promulgation of character warfare is not
Done from any one platform. It comes from within
Wherein we implement our original sin
By infecting the narrative with our own plot.
But a leader like Phineas at least is strong.

Those Unstoppable Thoughts

TheMagicRealist.com

A racecar with no brakes travels at breakneck speed.
The racetrack is an oil slick of slippery thought.
Do they happen at random as I barely try
Not to think them as they seem to swiftly fly by?
If I’m thinking them, that means there’s something that’s sought
That is not most essential. Therefore, I’ve no need.

In the moment I identify with something
I start thinking about it. I cannot just stop.
If I eat something bad for me can I expect
A good outcome? The body I have will reject
What it knows is not good for it. Were I to swap
Every thought for a blessing, would my freed heart sing?

Any thoughts that I think cannot be part of me.
They are things I collect as I live day by day.
Every cell of this body and things on my list
Of the things most appealing to me coexist
In a conscious relationship with me by way
Of my strong need to fit in with society.

Ego thinks of survival. The body alone
Is concerned with existence. The rest… not so much.
Yet the need, for the most part, is always fulfilled.
With plenty of fried chicken, the body is thrilled.
But that which is me truly can be more in touch
With the realm of the thoughtless – the ID free zone.

Secret Waters

TheMagicRealist.com

How does one stay committed? A most sacred bond
Can be broken too easily. Why is this so?
Is it that the integrity of humankind
Has been compromised somehow by our own design?
What’s the best course of action that one can follow?
When beset with hard choices, how best to respond?

Many kinds of integrity make what we are.
One is that of emotions – another, of thought.
But our physical integrity is the one
That can cause discontentment but also much fun.
It may be through our upbringing contact is sought
With too much desperation. Is this below par?

People of many cultures are casual with touch.
We need hugs when we’re babies – not as we evolve.
Children are of their mothers until about five.
Until then, they should be hugged so they best survive
The dilemma most face with no means to resolve.
Secret waters are salty and don’t resolve much.

Insight Infusion

TheMagicRealist.com

Success cannot be taught. Only processes can.
And with crystal clear dreams and a bit of support,
Everyone will aspire to become something more.
There may come discontent in trying to keep score.
One can find yet the sweet spot and rarely fall short.
Insight comes from attention to one’s own game plan.

How intense the attention determines insight.
If it’s strong enough, insight will come like a flash.
A component of leadership, insight evolves.
Definiteness of purpose all through it resolves
Problems as if by clockwork. All fear becomes trash.
And the way one does business is never a fight.

Inspiration, keen insight and integrity
Are the tri-fold ingredients to great success.
To be one of integrity is to commit
To the much larger vision wherein we all fit.
Success is judged by others in how I express
My life as conscious process that happens to be.

Prank On America

TheMagicRealist.com

“It was nice doing business.” NO! Why Should I Lie?
I and my kind are just an encumbrance by now.
An account becomes “obsolete” based on a whim?
That sounds like ‘reserved’ language – an apt pseudonym
For those not quite American. Less Than, somehow,
I am not told about this. Should I wonder why?

That sure as Hell feels like a prank, I must say.
So I must be American to some degree.
My ancestors were born here. They gave with their lives
To ensure that this nation of many survives.
You betray my America. That’s what I see.
Is there nothing to do but to see it your way?

Now, the Mask of America, you bring disgrace
To the name you have hijacked and paid for with blood.
What’s behind the mask is a monster that can’t fail.
Policies most corrosive persist and prevail.
More appropriate it would be were you named ‘mud.’
My business nor my feelings I need not misplace.

Am I In My Right Mind?

TheMagicRealist.com

Am I In My Right Mind? Often times I can’t tell.
Would I hope that a single mind is quite enough?
That I’m clothed by my skin and by fabric is true.
A mind that I’d fit into would mock what is new.
Right or Left mind irrelevance sought off the cuff
Leaves oneself far beside oneself. Is the mind well?

Are there many or just a few possible minds
I can choose to climb into at any instant?
Some would say there’s but one mind. The others are fake.
But someone with a handful, and all wide awake,
Can act out in such ways that are inconsistent
With established norms, wherein contentment one finds.

I have seven minds – one for each day of the week.
They are ruled by the planets, or maybe by gods.
If I wear only one mind a day, is that cool?
And if others wore many, who would be the fool?
I can handle one day at a time, so the odds
That I am in the wrong mind are rather oblique.

Half A Shot Of Sick Puppy

TheMagicRealist.com

Half A Shot of Sick Puppy I’ll add to the mix
When I’m upside down on a two-legged bar stool.
The bartender within me knows that I don’t drink
Yet I’m intoxicated by thoughts that I think.
I could blame that on current events like a fool.
Is all that I am drunk on an effective fix?

Half asleep to the counter of what people say
In the background, I am then aware of not all
There is to be revealed in this dark, smoke-filled room.
If it were not a swamp, all we’d need is a broom.
Could that ever become so? Would that be my call?
Chaos is a perception. It is not the way.

Since I’m one of a tribe, I am doomed to imbibe
What I don’t know I’m thinking. My drinking is such
That it does medicate me in maddening ways.
What should be the reality has become haze.
Could the fix in the mix be to not expect much?
That would be but the best thing my soul could prescribe.

Social Incarceration

TheMagicRealist.com

Why the hell won’t she call me? What’s up with my friends?
Do my fingers find favor with social contacts?
All I know is what others know, and it’s a shame
That I’m drenched in the digital friendliness game.
Am I one in control or the one who reacts
To the paint I have chosen to color my lens?

People don’t want to do things I ask them to do.
Should they call that their freedom? And should I as well?
If I ask with persistence, am I to them fair?
If they asked something of me, how much would I care?
If someone doesn’t like me, need I make them yell?
They are not mine to mess with. I’ll bid them adieu.

Social life is imprisonment. If I react
To what goes on outside of me, I’ll be enslaved.
To respond is the better way. Then I remain
In control of the moment with no sense of strain.
I can keep myself connected and well-behaved
If I know I’ll do time for the way that I act.

Loneliness

TheMagicRealist.com

When the flip side of freedom does loneliness bring,
Which perception of madness is best for the soul?
To belong to someone special is to feel well
On the way to fulfillment. The story we tell
Of that someone we’ve chosen to make our life whole
Is of one who’s evolving. One does one’s own thing.

We would each have our freedom if given the chance
And without thinking fully of what the word means.
With the door open widely, we sit in a cage
We could fly away anytime, but we engage
In entrapping thought processes. And our routines
Are the backdrop that we want to label romance.

Freedom is a blending of courage and madness
To explore one’s own being which is like a sea
Of specific complex chemical interplay.
To endeavor to know that may brighten our day.
Loneliness is a blessing that we rarely see.
We’re alone to begin with. Why make life a mess?

Casual Relations

TheMagicRealist.com

Some unions lack emotion. Is that the complaint?
They’ve become somewhat casual and commonplace.
What are some to make of this? Is this it a new wave?
Things are more important than a marriage to save.
Yet, it’s all about memory. Our human race
Is a sponge-like existence immune to restraint.

There was once an old couple married fifty years.
The day after their celebration, they divorced.
Said the judge who was friends with them, “Why do this now?
You’ve had such a fine marriage. What’s happened somehow?”
“I went through some old photos, and then I was forced,”

Said one of them, “To hold back a torrent of tears.”

“My children don’t look like me. So, that’s the reason!”
Now, the judge, here, is anyone with common sense.
Some cultures aren’t so ‘touchy.’ They tend to know well
Memory that is tactile will act like a spell
That will then cast one’s life in a world of pretense.
It’s a question of sense, not of morals undone.

Is This Site Using Cookies?

TheMagicRealist.com

Is This Site Using Cookies? They claim to be smart
But not as smart as I am. No text file can be.
Were that so, then my writing would be at its worst.
So, attention to content must always come first.
I do eat cookies, but they’re no big part of me.
I take info from no one. It’s not in my heart.

Cookies are, though, a good thing, if used the right way…
Not to discern your habits to target you more
But to make things convenient while cruising online.
Things like shopping cart contents and such are just fine
If your online adventure, in fact, is a store.
I have nothing to sell you but part of my day.

I am not yet a monster, but hunger I feel
To record with expression what stirs in my soul.
Surely it is consumable and of good taste.
Someday, I may need cookies. Right now, they’re a waste
Of the energy I would devote to the whole
Of my sole driving purpose that I here reveal.

Click-A-Mole

TheMagicRealist.com

Nowadays, we don’t whack ‘em. We click ‘em instead.
The moles consist of images placed on the screen.
They are put there by fisher-folk trolling for clicks
With pop-ups and page-unders and digital tricks.
If not fast enough, what I see becomes unseen
Just before I can click it. This fucks with my head.

It is not that my hand freezes up in the cold.
Is it that my reflexes are not up to par
That I don’t double click well enough to command
My own space with efficiency? I understand
That the slightest mouse movement while clicking will bar
An inkling of an outcome. Indeed, I’ve grown old.

My eyes are now the pointer. The mouse takes a break
From its small, cheesy movement upon the mouse pad.
I am yet the observer… the screen, a portal
To the sea of believing in all things mortal.
That we’ve made such a game of life, I should be glad.
Games are made for all children. We play for their sake.

Sense Or Nonsense

TheMagicRealist.com

The spiritual process has gained ridicule
In the world because we must be entrepreneurs.
People selling a product will only sell waste.
Is it good to have most sacred teachings disgraced
By the marketing enterprise? Yes! It ensures
That the one making profit will not be the fool.

With respect to those teachers in far away lands
Who provided an atmosphere for folks to learn,
They do not want their teachings distilled into books
To be produced and peddled to folks with good looks.
Guidance is done in context. How does one discern
Its full essence when not a word one understands?

Is it Sense or Nonsense? This is all one may ask
Of oneself – not of wisdom that is packaged well.
Should one ask of one’s enemies and of best friends?
As the question is pondered, the spirit transcends
All the seeking outside oneself. Rather than dwell
On the nonsense abundant, put your sense to task.

You Can’t PROVE I’m A Scarecrow

TheMagicRealist.com

I know nothing of farming, but I’m the best one
To behave as your farmer by bullshit alone.
Is it that what elected me is a machine
Most corrupted and broken and makes me obscene
That erodes any hope you have down to the bone?
How I commandeered this field will be told to none.

Those who say I’m a scarecrow have gathered no proof
That betrays that I am one. This clears me of shame
On the outside, but inside, there’s only hot air.
That hot air can be blameless is not only fair,
It’s the best way I know of to win at life’s game.
Mentally insufficient, I can seem aloof.

The report says they tried hard, but they couldn’t find
Enough factual evidence linking me to
All who took part in stuffing me to make me look
Like something of a candidate. But, I’m a crook.
You Can’t PROVE I’m A Scarecrow, so all you can do
Is to ignore the hay you see. Pretend you’re blind.

Bad Mouthing The Bad Mouth

TheMagicRealist.com

Folks who hate doing windows, dentists they become,
And, like priests in confessionals, they condescend,
Being that their vows preclude a normal discourse
With those orally challenged. Indeed, they enforce
A demeanor of judgement once they apprehend
The ill orifice. They’ll leave one feeling like scum.

People think that such people might pee in the pool
Since they don’t seem to have a clue nor a strong wish
To maintain proper hygiene regarding their teeth.
Many smiles will shine brightly, but what’s underneath
Is the psychic assassin who’s cold as a fish.
Would you pay a damned dentist to call you a fool?

It’s a thing one must overcome. People are cheap
With their sheepskins and practices and clientele.
To get past human ego requires no skill
Nor a sense of repugnance or perceived ill will.
Those who get the best treatment are those who live well.
In an ‘evolved’ society, most are asleep.

Inner Engineering

TheMagicRealist.com

Inner Self is a system of complexity.
It can function in Absolute Ease. When it does,
No disease overcomes it. To get there takes work.
It’s a responsibility I should not shirk.
Clarity, Health and Joy… I can have them because
There are techniques for activating energy.

The most spiritual processes that can occur
Among mind, heart and body are now a part of
Scientific experimentation. Today
There are methods to follow to live in a way
That I am readjusted and open to love.
I don’t have to think hard. This is what I prefer.

Between living and working with people who are
Fun to be with or those who would bring you right down,
Which do you choose? Remember… all folks choose the same.
Rather than a rich lifestyle or power or fame,
I just want to be pleasant – not wearing a frown.
Things of spirit are practical. Ain’t that bizarre?

Is Life Predestined?

TheMagicRealist.com

Is there right thought and wrong thought? It seems to be so.
But who makes that decision? And what is it worth?
My thoughts are not predestined. I choose them at will.
If they just happened to me, then what of my skill
To discern which ones feel good and offer me mirth
And which ones leave me hapless with nowhere to go?

I can choose this or that thing. Am I ‘made’ this way?
And if so, in that making, do I play a role?
If I make a wrong choice, I call that a mistake
Thinking predestination plays out for my sake.
But I make the choice consciously and from my soul.
My mistakes are my doing. I direct my play.

Some confusion exists about what is belief
As compared to what is known to be absolute.
I believe I have two hands? No! I know it’s true.
Even if I can’t see them. I know there are two.
I believe God exists, but to know that is moot.
Knowing this much about things should mitigate grief.

Now, to speak of deception gets closer to home.
We begin life with simple minds, then they evolve
To the point where some part of us questions most things.
Sorting out facts from what we believe, wellness brings.
Running with my assumptions my life won’t resolve.
With this firm understanding, I am safe to roam.

Herbal Renewal

TheMagicRealist.com

Many states have gone herbal. Soon all will be so.
Organic evolution can make nations whole.
We could change the flag’s colors to red, green and blue
With a few dabs of purple for those of a hue
Somewhere in between red and blue, such that their role
Is a blending of two beliefs that won’t let go.

We’re a nation of color and people of fruit.
Some of us who are vegan have given up meat.
Still remain many meat eaters. We are diverse
In this broad land where some things can always get worse
For the betterment of the whole. Life can be sweet
When our Herbal Renewal becomes resolute.

Any kind of renewal begins with a thought
Then it becomes reality as I proceed
To revisit perceptions of sheer psychic drought.
I can grow a new outlook. I’m herbal, no doubt.
If I keep myself fruitful, I’ll not have the need
To rely on what should be completely self-taught.

I’m A Stein – Damn It!

TheMagicRealist.com

 

I’m a Stein – not a Steen! I don’t mean to get mean
But, dog gone it, it’s high time you got my name right!
People tend to get careless and lazy with names.
Do you strive to be ignorant with silly games?
If I mispronounced your name, would you want to fight?
Names are special to people. Don’t make them obscene!

I’m a Stein, and that’s fine! So, don’t give me no guff.
There are manifold Steins populating this earth.
There are Feinsteins and Einsteins and stand alone Steins.
We have first names and middle names. These are clear signs
That the surname containing Stein at someone’s birth
Does not sound like the name Steen. Have I said enough?

The name Steen rhymes with teen. Can’t you honor that fact?
It ain’t like you can’t hear straight. Am I making sense?
Do not make me a Steen since that’s not what I am.
My name is not a plaything. Why not give a damn?
Please don’t pamper your clumsiness at my expense.
Disrespect can be subtle, with lasting impact.

Atra Feed

TheMagicRealist.com

You need feed for your atra? We go it right here!
It don’t make sense to get it from those other guys.
They will charge you a fortune, and what you will get
Is a crapload of something that you may regret.
We’ve the best feed, and this is our word to the wise –
If you’ve got lots of atra to feed, never fear!

We’ve been in the feed business purt-neer forty years.
Never once have we failed to deliver the best
Any atra could hope for. For that, we are proud.
We remain down to earth, though – not high on a cloud.
It’s your atra. You shouldn’t put them through a test
Just to prove our point seemingly as it appears.

Treat your atra with dignity. They deserve more
Than what is made available. Feed them with care.
They will grow to full atrahood. In the meanwhile,
You may show to your atra a confident smile.
What you feed to your atra is your own affair.
But for their sake, why not head on out to our store?

Dealing With The Invasion

TheMagicRealist.com

To come up with a marching chant is but child’s play
For the group that is mindless and marinated
In a thick liquid hatred for all that exists
But themselves. So, the best tools they use are their fists.
To most action, reaction results in bloodshed.
Can we blame human nature that we act this way?

Who then is the invader? All who are not white?
And what space that exists – or not – do you defend?
Paranoia is racial. It cuts to the core
Of our biggest fear – that our clan will be no more.
But the facts not considered you’d rather upend
And prepare all the world for the ultimate fight.

If you do lack intelligence and sanity,
Then to find a good magnet is what you must do.
There are many strong iron-cored forces at play.
Does it matter which group takes your freedom away?
If you do plan to harm others, think it all through
And then share that with someone immediately!

Inner Peace

TheMagicRealist.com

Inner Peace… Is it something lost that can be found?
And if I end up finding it, how would I know?
Many spiritual leaders speak much of this thing.
They say when we achieve it, much joy it will bring.
I am joyful this moment. Does my writing show?
I can simply be peaceful. I need not expound.

Yet, I do, and it serves me to learn lessons well.
Intellect needs a platform of firmness because
Suddenly, as a species, we’re given this gift.
We can use it to service our needs and uplift.
It can become acquainted with spiritual laws
Or it can create for us a version of hell.

I don’t want to be ill nor act out in a way
That shows people that I’m in a bad state of mind.
The good doctor, in earnest, may give me a pill
To induce the brain chemistry to just sit still.
Every mood is a chemistry of its own kind.
I control how I feel. This should begin the day.

So, what happens within me… Is it Inner Peace?
I shall not think about it. The dog doesn’t care.
He exemplifies peace as I’m watching him eat.
He does not think about things like utter defeat.
If I question him, he will just look up and stare.
In that moment, concerns of the day tend to cease.

How Big Is Your Dream?

TheMagicRealist.com

 

Yes, I do have a dream. And it’s bigger than me.
It’s so big it will be there way past my lifetime.
Knowing that I’ll fulfill but a small part of it
Is the best way that I know to keep my mind fit.
What occurs well outside of me cannot begrime
Any part of my big dream. Its size is the key.

It is more than a blessing things don’t go my way
All the time. That would be just an absolute bore!
But, besides that, life helps me to engage my dream.
Too much life must cooperate in the extreme
Just to make the world something that I world adore.
What goes on in my heart and soul… I have full say.

So, how big is your dream? Does it satisfy you?
If it does, then it’s too small. It will be fulfilled.
Or it won’t. Either way, life will offer you more.
Life is only a nightmare when lived like a chore.
You may not need a guru nor one highly skilled
To help you with your big dream. That’s for you to do.

We Gotta Get You A Woman!

TheMagicRealist.com


Hey there, Sam! Is that you?
We’d thought that your partner would stay ever true.
Compromised before our eyes… Entrapped within white petty lies…
Most women know that they will pull us through.
There’s only one thing that we’ve left to do.

We Gotta Get You A Woman!
It’s like nothin’ else to make you feel that you will survive.

We Gotta Get You A Woman!
We can pre-celebrate because there’s no time for waitin’.

Sammy boy, you’re the one
Who’s personified us since our fate had begun.
We can feel discontentment. We know you do too.
…Woken up from a wild night, we’re all feelin’ blue.
You done married the bitch! He done gave you the screw! So…

We Gotta Get You A Woman!
It’s like nothin’ else to give you courage to carry on.
We Gotta Get You A Woman!
Pretty soon well be votin’. Much time is worth devotin’

…To talkin’ ‘bout livin’ lives in much better ways.
Until now we’ve been caught up in malaise.
Fairly soon we will see better days.
But we’ve got to care enough that we pull this thing together

We Gotta Get You A Woman!
It’s like nothin’ else to make you feel that love is alive.

We Gotta Get You A Woman!
Leadership of a woman could well make our nation thrive.

Talkin’ ‘bout things like thick ceiling glass
That had almost been broken but for some world class
Operation that lead to the major impasse
That befalls us, a woman may well kick some ass.

We’ve got to hook you up with one who has been around.
There are plenty of good ones. Indeed, they abound.
She may show you that what has been lost can be found.
Sam, it’s time to listen to a different sound.

We Gotta Get You A Woman!
We Gotta Get You A Woman!
We Gotta Get You A Woman!

And after we do, we may live life anew.

The True Joy Of Eating


A good question to ask you is… How Do You Eat?
Yes, your heard this correctly. How do you connect

With what you put inside yourself. Do you make peace?
Or do you stuff it quickly so hunger will cease?
With a heart of devotion and utmost respect,
The food that we eat is meditation complete.

Food prepared is for plenty. Abundance clearly
Is the mindset of those who are willing to serve.
Give and take is a clockwork of eternal grace.
Idle chatter is useless. Silence we embrace.
Eating is an experience we can preserve
As an act of communion with divinity.

Wholesome food is made simple. As drawn from the earth,
It retains ample lifeforce. In humbleness then
We return what is waste to the soil whence it came.
Interacting in consciousness is but our aim.
Those who’ve eaten will clean up – both women and men.
Everyone has a fulfilling sense of self-worth.

A Small Measure Of Balance

TheMagicRealist.com

We’re the ‘Crown of Creation.’ I’ve heard that before.
It’s no rumor, hogwash nor misguided belief.
Many millions of years have resulted in this
The evolved human mind placed above an abyss
Where it must become balanced, or life becomes brief –
Not because of the fall, but because we keep score.

We all have the same brain matter. Why then do some
Find their genius delightful while others feel pain?
Is intelligence higher in those who feel good?
Is there magical influence not understood
By those who may be driving themselves quite insane
When through misguided action no progress will come?

It is balance or lack of it. That’s what is taught.
And it comes from the knowing that I am the one
And the only one who is in charge of my life.
If I try to blame others, I will welcome strife.
This suffices as balance. New life has begun
When from this simple premise no pity is sought.

Lefty Lucy – Righty Tighty

TheMagicRealist.com

There was once only monochrome. Called black and white,
Every spot on the CRT was off or on.
The electron beam painted, with raster sharp force,
Every other line interleaved so to endorse
Double composite imagery. What an eye con!
Left to right, as the eye scans, it knows not of sleight.

Right to left is less often the way we believe
That perception should be read or well understood.
Rightness can’t coexist on both ends of a scale.
One will rebuke the other. Conflict will prevail.
Leftness is like the darkness, in all likelihood,
That the beam cannot visit nor can it perceive.

A mnemonic appropriate to here and now
Clearly is indicated so we redefine
The depiction of color in technical grace.
Right and left are now concepts we need to replace
With ones more systematic by nature’s design
Where one needs no schematic to simply allow.

If I call you a lefty, does that mean I’m right?
And if I’m called a righty, is that from left field?
There is one kind of spectrum we need not reveal.
It’s the one that is based on the way that we feel.
If we censored our labels, would all hearts be healed?
It would seem there’s no alternative but to fight.

A Much Better Story

TheMagicRealist.com

The old up and down mood swing thing is a device
Like an ink-filled contraption ordained to release,
For the writer accomplished and of nimble hand,
Its darkness upon whiteness. Though not a demand,
Both machine-like and cyclic, they merge into peace.
If my words can release me, should that not suffice?

That it brings satisfaction is function at worse.
And at best, it may be of some value to some
Who are like me – a mood swinger extraordinaire.
Tragedy entertains, and I’m willing to share.
Clearly it is a safe way to best overcome
What, in mental health circles, would be called a curse.

I don’t write from delusion. My shit is for real.
Were it not, then what part of whose psychotic mess
Have I assumed in essence? Indeed, I make sense,
To myself and to others without much expense,
Of that part of existence I seem to possess
By exposing it and all that it may reveal.

Neverlanduendo

TheMagicRealist.com

Never mind that he’s dead now and has been for years
We continue to judge him for acts he has done…
…Or has not. Much uncertainty is what remains.
Any truth worth uncovering, nothing explains
So to do so brings answers. Debate had begun
Because we are obsessed with sex and children’s fears.

Never landing in right ways as we fall to earth,
Taking off points must differ among all of us.
We all need to be children. He had not the chance.
Children don’t have sex feelings. They don’t know romance.
How a man can be childlike is what gives us fuss.
Does our wild speculation preclude our self-worth?

Never fear that the truth will come out in the end.
That will take may eons. We will have moved on.
Close encounters with children must be scrutinized.
Interrogative processes must produce lies.
Never willing to question what doubt we may spawn,
Can we reconcile bashing what’s left of a friend?

“Disturbing… NOT Surprising”

TheMagicRealist.com

Should I leap from a pot into obvious flame
Just so talking head news folk and brilliant experts
Will stop sating the obvious with sarcasm?
And they don’t seem to have much enthusiasm.
Disturbing is surprising, as long as it hurts.
Have ‘disturbing’ and ‘boring’ become quite the same?

What a fine thing to get paid to sit on your rumps
Before cameras and people to fart from the face
Your opinions on tragedy and status quo.
Spell that shit to your family. They ought to know.
All the hellish news is worth some verbal disgrace
But if it’s not surprising, how still the heart pumps!

People dying in plane crashes all due to greed…
How severely we’re sodomized all from within…
These are mere talking tidbits ‘til more breaking news.
Can’t we clean up our language so it won’t abuse
And lull into complacency our will to sin?
When the water gets too hot, then will come the need.

Transformation Through Annihilation

TheMagicRealist.com

It’s the Mars-Pluto dance. There’s some danger involved
On a regular basis between parts of me
That are both hyper masculine and most intense.
Just because I can know that, I claim no defense
For my violent eruptions. At times I can’t see
Any way but destruction to get problems solved.

That’s a rat-trap-glue bummer! So, this is my fate?
There’s a nice guy somewhere buried deep in my rage.
Yet, unconscious to me, he also gets pissed off
Over strong indignations that others will scoff.
What is ego and what is not plays out on stage.
Would it be hard to say I’m acquainted with hate?

The two can be good buddies, but not in my chart.
And, because they’re in fixed signs, much focus is spent
On how to ignite dynamite effectively.
I need some kind of outlet to rectify me
That is wholesome and physical and heaven sent.
It’s one hell of an aspect to evolve the heart!

Osiris, On Papyrus

TheMagicRealist.com

We are three deities of Egyptian belief
Who, way back in our time, had not much to write on.
So, my fine colleagues Isis and Horas and I
Took a vow of importance, in that we would try
To come up with both topics and stuff of some brawn
To facilitate permanence and banish grief.

We invented papyrus, though I took the lead
Not because I am special, but that my name rhymes
With this fine plant we cultivate organically.
So, it syncs with the title, as you can well see.
It’s eternal. We need not keep up with the times.
When papyrus is written on, it’s a good read.

If you don’t have papyrus, though, you need not fret.
Heartfelt thoughts can be placed on plain paper instead
…Or perhaps on the background of your consciousness
Where it may become lost in the cluttered thought mess.
My advice to you is get what’s locked in your head
Out on something, as long as it is not a threat.

Past And Future Lives Of Children

TheMagicRealist.com

Sometimes children will speak of a life lived before
They became part of this life. It gives people pause.
They’ll recall how they died and what killed them and such.
Some become quite insistent and we don’t pay much
Of attention to their stories mostly because
We think that they are made up of folly and more.

We don’t have to believe them and neither do they.
Whether true or not makes not a big difference.
Nature’s veil is designed to cocoon us from all
But the present and this life. Our focus is small.
If we recalled our past lives, turmoil would commence.
The torrent of confusion would cause great dismay.

It’s a good thing that children forget who they were
Before they became who they are now. So, in time,
Memories of the lives lived before dissipate.
We then focus on this life and what we create
So that getting through this life won’t be a hard climb.
We succumb to the circumstance that we incur.