Archive | June 2019

Android Emotion

Uncertainty of Technological Friendliness

Does my droid need emotion or just a swift kick
Up its digital tailpipe to give it some class?
It’s a sweet, sleek and sultry bitch with a loud charm.
Every frigging five minutes it sounds its alarm.
I don’t get what it’s telling me. I’ll take a pass
On new nuisance technology programmed to dick.

So, I must ‘get to know’ you? Are you now my mate?
You don’t seem all that human, but that you’re an ass.
You draw forth deep emotion from inside of me.
Were that your makers shared it only partially,
There would be resolution and change. But alas,
To be human means making things that irritate.

Though a dwindling minority, those of my kind
Have a keen observation of what’s taking place.
All I need from a smartphone is that it knows well
Who’s the boss of it. If not, it shall go to hell.
Vacuum data collectors will fall in disgrace
As our tissue technology is undermined.

Advanced Placement Afterlife

Impressions of Life and Afterlife

The ‘Accelerated’ they were called way back when.
I was but a mere idiot due to my grades.
I was coerced to worship them. Damn them today
And the teachers who fucked with my mind in that way!
From the callously perverse school system cascades
Condescension toward those ‘less than’ time and again.

Something happened to me my last year of high school.
It’s a loose-fitting fragment that moves while in place
As a traumatic episode. Mister Feeney
Chose to instruct the whole class to make fun of me.
My life changed in an instant. I left in disgrace
Both from school and from home to escape ridicule.

Sometimes I can’t remember that. Others, I do.
When it happens, contempt for all pumps through my veins.
I did manage to graduate with no time lost
But not from that same Catholic school. I had crossed
Their red line of defiance. The nightmare remains
One of psychic incontinence. It’s sad but true.

 During my brief hiatus, my sick teenaged mind
Felt enough guilt that it thought that it could assume
Quite another identity… go back to school.
Since I had advanced knowledge, I’d have to be cool.
Thanks to God and the angels, I was plucked from doom.
But I must prove I’m not stupid to humankind.

This is not about pity. It’s coming to light
Of the full realization that I am of worth
To myself and the whole world, as all people are.
I persist in the myth of the mind superstar,
Using it as a weapon, also to unearth
What my soul needs to express. It seems only right.

So, how bad a residual can this become?
I’m hellbent on displaying this cursed intellect
In its absolute brilliance. Do others seem bright?
Most would pale in comparison next to my light.
On your grave, Mister Feeney, I’ll give due respect.
I shall defecate gleefully, you rotten scum!

If you know me, do not make the stupid mistake
Of thinking that I’m stupid. I’ll Lay You To Waste!
Just because it’s been twisted, my mind can do harm.
It also Commands English with masterful charm.
Don’t you dare look down on me, or you will be faced
With the wrath of an intellect none can forsake.

It’s A Hell Of A Mantra, But Fuck It!

Frustration With Technology

Is the mass-produced smartphone that fails in a year
A fit toy to include in a box of corn flakes?
When it, on its own, places calls, what should I do?
Those damned things have a sex life. They’re willing to screw
With an old, flesh and blood man. They make their mistakes
Due to vengeful young code geeks whose motives are clear.

My solution is Fuck It! I’m on my way out
So I’d give a sick rat’s ass were I to be kind.
But I’m not. I am fed up with technology
Engineered to insult and to embarrass me.
Fuck this Damned generation, ill-mannered and blind
To what is truly social. Clearly you have doubt.

I don’t need a damned ‘escort’ to hurry me on
To my ending. But Fuck It! Your ways can’t be changed.
Degradation of humanness, as my demise,
Is a function of nature. That’s not a surprise.
Obsolescence, the dark cloud that keeps me estranged
To the real world, will be here long after I’m gone.

The Past Remains The Past

Realization in Defeat

“How did I come to marry you?” is what she asked.
She had past life regression hypnotherapy.
Ever since then, my life has been turned upside down.
Why I’m out in the forest and wearing a frown
Is because there’s no reason that she should leave me.
She should love who I am now. The past remains masked.

Holding on to someone who one’s been with before
To some seems quite romantic. Some people feel stuck
In a bad situation. What Purgatory!
I should want to be with you so that I can see
All the good things about you now – not those that suck,
Nor the things of another life. Those I’ll ignore.

Once it was in the feudal times people were seen
As a function of their family and its worth.
People weren’t seen for who they are. They were objects,
More or less, so it seems we’ve evolved in aspects
Of the ways that we view life. A love life of mirth
Is the one lived in this time with outlook pristine.

Dissolve The Drama

Dissolution of Drama

As the old fable goes, the captain of the ship
With his egoic drama, one dark, foggy night,
Sees a light in the distance, commands it to move,
Then is outraged when it doesn’t. It would behoove
The defiant unknown to back down from a fight.
When he finds it’s a lighthouse, he’s ill to give lip.

Strange weeds may be collected and placed on my grave.
Though I’ll not rate a monument, I need not be
Quite as confounding rigid as one as I live.
Life would be a breeze were I not so combative.
There are many a lighthouse in life’s raging sea.
I create every problem by how I behave.

All the problems in my life come from within me.
Since they’re self-generated, they need not be solved.
As my thoughts and emotions play the leading role,
The director, whose cast has gone out of control,
Needs to know that the sorry act must be dissolved.
It is done in an instant and most easily.

If I seek a solution to something I made,
Then I tread toward insanity. None does exist.
If I made such solution, it would be a fake.
So, to think that it would work would be a mistake.
The confounding of drama indeed will persist.
It takes nothing at all to just stop the charade.

Losing Laziness

The Absolute Innocence of Relaxation

To the tune of postponement, the things I will do
That I don’t much like doing lie languid in lack
Of my utmost attention. Don’t mention those things.
Sheer paralysis of the will is what it brings.
I would be fit to fist fuck were I given flack.
Such things are mine to put off as guilt may accrue.

Why the hell am I doing things I clearly hate?
Will I get something for it? Is it of some worth?
Who will build me a statue? All in unison
Shout it out through a bullhorn. Not much have I done.
Were I a human doing since my ancient birth
Instead of just a being, would my life be great?

There is nothing to get here but our daily rest.
We live life in a manner intense and profound
Or we don’t. In the end, what will happen to all
Is a burning or burying. What will enthrall
And excite me can keep me from running aground.
My preponement of such things ensures I am blessed.

Fear Of Judgment

Ominous Unknown Nature of Fear

If someone says I’m wonderful, I’m on a cloud,
At least for that fresh moment. Then when I’m around
Folks who know and dislike me, they’ll tell me I’m crap.
When I step back and look at this, what a damned trap!
When the heart is a harlot on life’s battleground,
Then it can’t love in freedom, nor can it be proud.

The collapsing of heaven and hell in the minds
Of a population no longer in need of
Information established leaves us to conclude
We are free to create each. With much gratitude
I may bless the judgmental as creatures of love
Even though they are fettered by faults of all kinds.

When I catch myself judging, as I have just now,
I can know that, contingent to who we all are,
Judgment can be a sickness as well as a tool.
One who responds to judgment will end up the fool.
In my own heart I must believe I’m up to par.
To have others control that, I cannot allow.

Why Suffering?

Hopelessness of Suffering

Take a close look at suffering – not yours or mine
But the hell of the hopeless. No matter what kind
Of dark cloud overcomes one, all translate to pain.
And it all has but one source. Through profit and gain
Few have grabbed up most resources. Most are resigned
To the struggle the gamble in life does assign.

We may call ourselves human, but what’s in a name?
Like Hell’s Angels, we rev up the atmosphere with
Our own brand of excitement despite nature’s nerves.
Have we not come to learn that our Mother deserves
Peace and silent cooperation? It’s a myth
That we’re separate beings and not all the same.

Every morsel that enters this body today
Is connected to some stomach writhing in need.
Every good time relates to the drug overdose.
Taking time to acknowledge that, I can get close
To an understanding of the nature of greed.
It is best that I eat well, but after I pray.

Cost Of Living

Signal to Noise Ratio

Governmental machinery takes care of things
Like our vast infrastructure and military.
We are certified born as we’re certified dead.
That which cannot be corporatized will instead
Be dismissed as irrelevant and legally
Free of interconnection with government strings.

We chose capitalism in democracy.
Perhaps it’s not the best way, but we can’t turn back.
Socialism was tried, and though it sounds ideal,
It is most detrimental for folks who are real
In the lives they are living, languid in their lack
Of a sense of fulfillment most wholeheartedly.

We can’t turn back because, stepping off the road tread
Into different directions, we end up nowhere.
A free market is this world and life as we know.
Government complicates both, so progress is slow.
Can we build an economy focused on care
That the cost of our living is nothing to dread?

Trueness To Self

Dichotomy of Self

Life is like an umbrella. Our lies are like rain.
When they pour, we’re protected. If held steadily
And if it has no holes, the umbrella works well.
We can feel that we’re not wet. No others can tell
That we’ve got a storm going. Not even we see
The fake self we’ve created, yet we expect gain.

I must bullshit myself in sophisticated
Ways that I’ve learned from childhood, impressed upon me
by religion, my elders and society.
Then I’ll add my own bullshit most egregiously.
The truth does not come easily if I won’t see
All of it with full clarity… not self-mislead.

Life can only get better at catching my lies
And should they become hail-like, the life torn to shreds
Will then have to come up with one that is more real.
Living in simple truthfulness is most ideal.
I can stop second guessing what’s in people’s heads.
Myself in its true brilliance is my best disguise.

Can A Building Do Laundry?

How a building can enhance the quality of life

Can A Building Do Laundry or take out the trash?
If it did its own windows, would that make the deal
Even sweeter? If so, can our dwellings foresee
How its occupants fit geometrically?
To some people, a building must have sex appeal
So much so they’ll become flowing fountains of cash.

Everything that is physical – a blade of grass,
Or the body, our planet, or vast galaxy –
Is a work of geometry. Nature, for earth,
Is the capable architect of immense worth.
How we build where we live and work, one would agree,
Is The thing of importance. What nature is class?

Need a building be classy? It is a class act
If indeed it’s designed well. We’re crafted by God.
Yoga is geometric. The body improves
In the ways we are conscious of how well it moves.
If our architecture is in any way flawed
Yoga can realign it as matter of fact.

Geometry is seen in the things that we wear.
So, our fashion would ask of us conscious intent.
We may wear any odd thing or live in a place
That is not to our liking. But what a disgrace!
Ancient structures of burnt brick and not of cement
Remain standing to this day, as if people care.

We behold any structure as whole and complete,
Self-contained in its beingness… made into form.
We have been in survival mode up until now.
A new way of existence is best to allow
Our behavior to sharply depart from the norm.
What is done with one’s dwelling can make the life sweet.

They Do Think We’re All Stupid!

Conflagration of Troubled Leadership

The disease of entitlement has become vogue.
White men stuffed in silk jackets must each wear a noose.
Why this is so is custom and much too absurd,
So, one wouldn’t be wise taking them at their word.
Slavery is professional as is abuse.
There’s a reason our government has become rogue.

We elected Obama. That was the last straw.
Not just once, but twice, we went and did the wrong thing.
Now, one hell of a backlash from nigger ascent
Reminds all that the fruits of our nation were meant
For the few white and wealthy. What freedom will ring
Is America ‘great’ again made into law.

They said, “Screw it! The People don’t know what they want.
They make foolish decisions. It’s now up to us
To return us to sanity and the white way.
We declare infiltration has seen its last day.”
One dose of the right nigger scares whites treasonous.

So, who’s up for the running? Who’s our confidant?

Why Good People Don’t Get Anywhere

Helping thee Helpless

Goodness knows there are good folk found most everywhere.
They consider themselves not particularly
Beatific in nature. They do what feels right.
It does not seem a burden. It seems a delight
To do kind acts of service most wholeheartedly
For those who are quite willing and able to care.

There’s a counterfeit goodness that makes people ill.
It’s the notion that some things are good and some bad.
As we develop labels and take to our sides,
Nothing of what is goodness inside us resides.
When goodness must rely on badness, it is sad.
It is much like a sickness brought forth through our will.

If I’m good, I’m not hungry. My stomach is full.
But the others are starving. So they must be bad.
As I pray for them, if I take righteous delight
In their suffering, what craziness makes that right?
Which goodness liberates one becomes one’s comrade.
Those addicted to goodness are steeped in the bull.

Good Karma – Bad Karma?

Simplistic Duality

There’s this notion that ‘good’ karma cancels out ‘bad.’
That is way too simplistic, so here’s the detail.
The word ‘karma’ means ‘action.’ It means nothing more.
We pour meaning into it and tend to ignore
All but our explanation, then proceed to fail.
There should be clarity when the word is unclad.

There are four kinds of action. While we are awake,
Or even when we’re sleeping, the four are at play.
Most action is unconscious, like driving a car
With one’s eyes closed. No driver would get very far
Before causing some turmoil in someone’s fine day.
If we could be more conscious, a good life we’d make.

Our actions are emotional, mental, also
Physical and of energy. Those are the four.
We seem not to control them. They make us instead
Think that something outside us is how we are led.
Were we to become conscious, we would perceive more
And become more enlightened and able to grow.

There’s no boss who’s controlling us from up above
Karma means we each have full control of our lives.
We record and we process through sensory tools.
Memory becomes blatant. We’re locked in our rules.
In a sense, we are sensory input archives
Who behave out of fearfulness or out of love.

The Leash

Escape from normal reality

On which end of the Silver Cord am I the pet?
And which end does the owner command some control?
Between owner and thing owned, which damned one am I?
Only when I am traveling far past the sky
Do I recall most lucidly what is my goal.
As I come wide awake here, I’m doomed to forget.

If I am not this body, am I then a probe
Self-controlled most remotely by some higher me?
People say they’re connected – the selves at each end.
The role each plays, this body cannot comprehend.
On this end I am blinded, but there I can see
How the soul makes a trap of the prefrontal lobe.

We all leave, as we slumber, the body at rest
And go wandering thither to spirit’s content.
Some will visit a hot star, examine it well,
Then, upon their awaking, think they’ve been to hell.
We’re connected to God Source. What we represent
Is the hope of creation. We truly are blessed.

High Spirits In Hard Times

Solace

Hard times sometimes befall us like leaves when they fall
In the fall time when color becomes nature’s form.
They can be overwhelming. When spirits are low
One can feel uninvited with no place to go.
How does one come to weather a strong psychic storm?
It may not be that easy. It hurts, most of all.

Must I learn to accept things? Is that the right key
To unlock what’s the matter and cast it aside?
It reeks of some resentment, but perhaps it will
Redirect me to some wish that I can fulfill.
Things of life that are pleasing can act as my guide.
What I want is the right path that clearly I see.

Right now is but a fall time. I’ll give it no more.
The next now I anticipate will fall in place
To complete my life’s puzzle, or partially so.
There are those who accept me. This is good to know.
Living life to fulfillment is done so in grace.
I am ready to pass through the next open door.

Do What You Love – Love What You Do

Blissfulness of Engagement

You can love what you do or else do what you love.
There’s no other alternative to living well.
Neither is of more essence. They both are the same.
Spreading into the framework of life is a game.
One need not be the expert but simply excel
At achieving the peace that all are worthy of.

People do things they don’t like and suffer lifelong.
Their commitment to duty or ill perceived need
Can enslave them to lifelessness. Is this the way
To a life of fulfillment rather than dismay?
What comes naturally will help one to succeed
At whatever is chosen. One cannot go wrong.

Doing what is allowed, one can then safely say
That comfort in belonging suffices for growth.
Doing just what is needed, and joyfully so,
Is the way to enlightenment with room to grow.
There’s no reason apparent that one can’t be both
In love with what one’s doing and with every day.

A Generous Gift

Uncommon Generosity

A young yogi went out to seek guidance within.
As is customary, to the forest he went.
When he needed some food he went in town to beg
Then went back to the forest, with purpose not vague,
To continue his mantra consumed in content.
Well attuned and strong willed, there is but to begin.

As the night came he noticed a disabled fox.
He was well fed and healthy but had no front legs.
The man knew nature’s cruelty so did wonder why
She’d allow this sick creature to thrive and not die.
His concern was not too great. No questioning begs
A significant answer from out of the box.

Then the sound of a lion’s roar scared him from trance.
Quite astonished he was when he saw the large beast
Leave a big piece of meat for the lucky lame one.
He was deeply moved by what this lion had done.
He came to the conclusion that he too should feast
With no effort whatever. So, he took a chance.

After several days no food came to this man.
He became weak and withered. Then nearing his death,
An elder yogi saw him. They spoke for a bit.
“Why did you choose the lame fox? That doesn’t seem fit.
Be the generous lion ‘til your dying breath.
Don’t resign to be helpless. Do all that you can!”

Left Nut News

Absurdity of Cyclic News

One gets news from an old fart when one is convinced
That Old Fart News is flawless by virtue of age.
Some tune into world happenings via the net
With smartphones or their laptops or some other threat.
When news causes either nausea or outrage,
I then know what it feels like to have my nuts minced.

I’m aware it’s the right nut I care less about.
It hangs well on its right side and is of less worth
Although just a tad higher. My concern is with
The forsaken left-nutted who seem but a myth.
Minor to what is major and mired in dearth,
The left nut remains hopeful yet haunted by doubt.

I take news on the left nut with no grain of salt.
Not quite like bread and butter or milk and money,
Left Nut News is of service to flesh roots of grass.
I’ll stand up to the right nut but not kick its ass.
I’m a class act, as most other organs may see
If they are made for seeing, but not to a fault.

When The Cock Takes The Crosswalk

Apparent Normalcy on the Farm

Need I hear the cock stutter to know I’ve betrayed,
For the third and last instance, some semblance of hope
That a new day is coming? E’er when the cock crows,
All the sycophant chickens make sure that he knows
He can count on their loyalty. How do they cope?
Either they are well paid or just too damned afraid.

And maybe it’s for both reasons. Who know for sure?
It becomes a big mystery not to be solved
By our imperfect system – not anytime soon.
Would our congress act if we all barked at the moon?
It’s a shame that our leaders are not more evolved.
If I think of it that way, what must I endure?

When The Cock Takes The Crosswalk, as soon he must do,
He will then be crossing at the intersection
Of justice and confinement, perhaps behind bars.
We will pay for his upkeep and tend to our scars.
As the traffic increases, the cock comes undone.
He Shall Not Cross The Street Twice though he will want to.

Wipe Your Ass, Neighbor!

The Industrial Assault On Nature

People knock on my door. They’re concerned with my lawn.
By now, I’ve got a sign up that says, “Go To Hell!”
My yard needs not a manicure. This ain’t The Hills.

Folks are hard up. I get that. They need to pay bills.
But then so do I. That’s why I’m such a hard sell.
One would think that conclusion is clearly foregone.

So, am I a good neighbor? I keep my yard clean
Of debris that blows into it from other yards.
Yet folks keep their yards well-trimmed, then scrutinize mine.
When they think it needs cutting, their looks aren’t benign.
What looms ever more ominous a house of cards
Are the yards of the toxic industrial machine.

Such an animal belches and farts like a pig.
Many people in neighborhoods throughout the land
Act the same way with misguided taste for disdain.
I spend time making content. Others think they’ll gain
From the waste air-apparent from providers grand.
The unwanted neighbor is one who has grown big.

The Definition Of Is

A caricature of Clinton, the master sophist

The past tense of will be is the now tense of was
When is has the same meaning as is always has.
Although is is of present tense, is can get past
The court of raw opinion. Need one be aghast
By how words can be worm like? Much in as much as
Is is ripe for discussion, is fits in our laws.

As is was in the first place, is is as it’s been.
Is can be unspecific and tricky a verb
When used just in the right way spoken with a tongue
Impregnated with quicksilver mixed well with dung.
If is isn’t the issue, why should is perturb
Anyone if it’s used as a tool now and then?

 Is is as it is because is always will be
Though it can’t be until is is something perceived
As a thing of some essence imagined or real.
There is something within is no sense can reveal.
When an air of confusion is rightly achieved,
The is who’s most important turns out to be me.

Re-Walk-In

Etherality Of Existence

I’ve walked out of this life many times, I must say,
Thinking each time I’ll never see this one again.
I’ll expect I’ll walk into another life, but
I’ll find soon that I’ve entered the same frigging rut.
I’d be happy if I could forget where I’d been
Until I’d reached the point where I don’t want to stay.

Yes, I’ve heard about Walk-In’s. I think it is strange
That some soul on the rebound would want to enter
Someone’s hell of a half-life. Can spirits go mad?
Or are they simply willing to be a comrade
To the soul in a tailspin? Indeed, I’d prefer
Infinite horizons as I wander free range.

Could I make this a boring life? I could well try.
How much effort it would take depends not upon
Anyone who may share my most chaotic realm,
But upon my perceiving, in life’s overwhelm,
The life I must walk into, come hell or new dawn.
As I re-enter this life, need I wonder why?

Inner Exploration

Multilayered Nature of Existence

Mysticism comes from within – not from the east.
Both the east and the west have come to conclusions
simultaneous and similar in essence.
All things are constructed of but five elements.
Earth, Air, Water, and Fire are the obvious ones
And the fifth is Etheric Space, yet not the least.

We are made mostly of Water. Life does it give
To all parts of the body. It has memory.
Our thoughts and our emotions can change the structure
Of the H2O molecule. I should ensure
That I keep mine as positive as they can be
So that Water within me supports how I live.

Earth we are twelve percent of. What’s beneath our feet
As we touch our Earth Mother in our daily stroll
Is where all of life came from. We must keep in touch
With this wholesome soul being whom we owe so much.
Keeping close to the Earth indeed makes one’s life whole.
None among all Earth’s species she deems as elite.

 We are six percent Air. The most dynamic part
Of our complex system, from moment to moment,
It keeps us most aware of each breath that we take.
We must ensure its purity for our health’s sake.
Do something aerobic. It can be infrequent.
This will cleanse well the blood and give life to the heart.

Fire is but a small part of us. We need sunlight.
That which burns within everyone is the life force.
Whether greed or compassion… resentment or love,
Every flame that exists is from the sun above.
Connecting to our Fire, we do honor our source
So that everything we do in life will shine bright.

The most expansive of the five, Etheric Space,
Exists throughout the cosmos and within us all.

How much access we have to it determines how
We align with the moment and saver the now.
To look up and give reverence is nothing small.
Within ultimate intellect we find our grace.

Exam Fear

Examination Anxiety

I’m somewhat unprepared, therefore, I appear scared.
Had I known that my whole life would be an exam,
I would not have entered into such a contract
Such that fear overcomes me with stunning impact.
My life I feel as study. In earnest I cram
For the uncertain moment. Why can’t I be spared?

Flight instructors will turn off the engine in flight
Unbeknownst to the student. One must be prepared
To notice when there’s danger and how to react.
There is tension involved. That remains a cold fact.
Life and death situations are equally shared
Among all of life’s students, whether wrong or right.

Suppose that the flight teacher notices no fear
And the student performs all the actions required.
Many teachers, in kindness, would express concern
That a fear about dying the odd one should learn.
Fear as qualification should not be desired
As the keystone of learning. That’s rather austere.

Memorize and regurgitate, then make the grade.
We promulgate deception. What is the purpose
Other than to look better compared to the rest?
It’s no trick for the mindless to pass a damned test!
When someone else’s failure leads to my smugness
What a mockery of education we’ve made!

Failure in the small story can cause some lament
For a brief moment. The qualifications of
Alertness and a willingness to fully know
What it is that excites people will make them grow.
Opportunity fits like the hand in the glove
To those free of Exam Fear who live in content.

Silicon Mind

TheMagicRealist.com

AI has been a part of our world for a while.
A digital infection of technology
Will quite soon overwhelm us and take away jobs.
Will there be consolation for whom the bot robs?
A profound transformation, most definitely,
Is what we are now faced with. Are we in denial?

We evolve from a time when we take certain pride
In how well we remember and figure out things.
Machines now do much better all that we can do.
There’s no use for the intellect. Can this come true?
Not At All! Only comfort technology brings.
We may all take vacations and travel worldwide.

We need not become lazy nor fearful that we
May become something or other not to our good.
People will value what kind of people we are
Instead of how much mental skill makes us a star.
Machines will out-perform us. Those who know they should
Will look forward to great times for humanity.

Human intelligence is of a different kind.
It remains fundamental and rather unique
In that it creates servants who then procreate
In a manner consistent with our hopeful fate.
There will be time to find what of spirit we seek.
Which is better designed? The machine or the mind?

A World Post Humanity

TheMagicRealist.com

If the insect species suddenly went extinct
All the rest of life on earth would cease to exist
In a matter of months. But if humans were gone
All of life that would remain would see a new dawn!
Putting two twos together, the drift can’t be missed.
We’re an arrogant species who’ve been out hoodwinked.

We are shown from a young age that we must survive.
That means strength in aggression toward one’s enemies
Is the way to succeeding at living life well.
If we chose to defile nature, where do we dwell?
Creation pays as much attention to the bees
As she does to our species. Who gets the high-five?

Earth will miss other creatures before missing us.
We are good for her in that we make fine manure.
Other than that, we’re detrimental to her plan.
Should we self-destruct, surely she’s better off than
If we hung around making her fresh air impure.
Violent reaction from her remains prenuncious.

Microscopic we are even in the cosmos.
Our bright sun is a tiny speck. Who then are we
But self-super-sized beings with much self-esteem?
This problem is no simple one. It’s most extreme
Because we’re causing damage. Most don’t want to see
That we are much the illness we should diagnose.

Yin And Yang

TheMagicRealist.com

For people in relationships, sometimes there’s stress.
But is there a solution? Can love be stress free?
What indeed is the nature of romantic love?
Is there spiritual guidance to make use of?
A sweetness of emotion love appears to be.
And it will be compulsive by nature’s ingress.

Nature wants to perpetuate. This is her way
In a real way, we’re coerced by genes and the flesh.
As we approach adulthood, the mind is hijacked
By the hormonal chemistry, thus we transact
In such ways that are natural. Love is a fresh
And healthy expression of most reverent play.

When the chemistry wears off, as in time, it will,
There must have been an effort to form a strong tie
To each other on a level deeply conscious.
If done so from the outset, such bonding will bless
The relationship lavishly. Nature is why
We are made to fulfill her most intimate thrill.

 Should couples remain faithful ‘til death do them part?
There remains certain beauty in living as one
For the long haul. To surrender is a good thing
For any human being. The heart does not sing
For the one who is all about self. There are none
Among those who are lovers who are of mean heart.

Dealing With Desire

Draw attention to the surreality of desire

My desire is the cause of my sorrow and pain.
I’ve heard that, but not recently. Does this ring true?

If it does, then I’m hopeless. I’d much rather be
Incorrect in recalling. It would seem to me
That there have to be teachings with a different view.
If I could get rid of desire, what would I gain?

I can’t banish desire. To do so is to die.
Contingent to my nature, it is like a sense
To expand toward the infinite through conscious thought.
If desire is unconscious, the journey is fraught
With profound disappointment and useless expense
Of the most precious life force. Can one wonder why?

  My desire is unending. Never satisfied,
It is life ever cyclic. It gives me motive
To do all that I care to, but consciously so.
People, places and things can be part of the flow
Of my conscious expression. The best way to live
Is to think of desire as a wonderful ride.

On Accepting The Dickhead

Love Your Enemies

Many people I judge ‘bad’ in some kind of way.
It’s said most of us are this way. Could it be true
That all people aren’t angels? Some are dangerous!
Most I don’t have to deal with, but is that a plus?
Those I do have some contact with can put me through
An acute anal throbbing that fucks with my day.

Why can’t I just accept them? Why not just “say yes”
Like the mouse to the mouse trap before it steps in?
That, of course, is not easy. It does take much work
To get myself to where I can love any jerk.
If I still curse them mentally, is that a sin?
If it is, then I guess I’ve got shit to confess.

Or I could take their skin off so they better feel
Everything that I’m feeling so they keep their place.
Would they become more sensitive? Probably so.
If my thick skin were missing, surely I would know
A deep sense of intensity and teeming grace.
The empowering freedom does pique my appeal.

Maybe I can achieve this most fortunate state
Of assurance that all things are as they should be.
I may be overwhelmed, at first, but I’ll succeed.
A reorganization will happen, indeed.
Would the act of rebalancing rectify me?
I may yet curse the bastards, and it will feel great!