Archives

Control

An Evasive Illusion

I control not my thoughts nor the ways that I feel.
In a real sense I am them. To give up control
Is to have it completely. If I were to try
To gain absolute power by force I apply,
It will only disturb things, which isn’t my goal.
I must trust what the universe has to reveal.

Like a good friend this universe can be to me.
Trusting it like a person who knows me quite well,
I can give up the struggle of lying awake
Fretting over control of things. What A Headache!
But the friend who’s much bigger can banish the spell
 If my faith in this kind one is of high degree.

Universes are bodies. Cells know who they are
And have things delegated at every level.
If I can but allow them to do their damned work,
Then perhaps they would think that I’m not such a jerk
Having tried to control them. I’ve put them through hell.
My relationship with them is not up to par.

That which flows to all things and does nourish them all –
Both the left and the right and all manner between –
Lords not over creation nor seeks any claim
Of merit for accomplishments. All is the same
To the friend universal who surely has seen
Every bit of creation. I am not so small.

The Futility Of Force

Flowing With What Goes

It’s a strange world we live in. As part of the Tao,
And composed of relationships complex and deep,
This cosmos is abundant. Perpetual change
Is its way of expressing. It will rearrange
That which needs evolution. It loses no sleep
Over what one may think. To no one does it bow.

In the system of Huawei, nature is the guide.
Existence is totality. All is one whole.
In accordance with nature one always should act.
Force will only disturb things. It has an impact
On one’s karma in this life. It darkens the soul.
It is better to do nothing and step aside.

Don’t impose interference. The pattern of things
That exists is dynamic and always in flow.
Some may look just like conflict, but actually,
They are interdependent, and they need to be.
The survival of each, neither colleague nor foe,
Is the Tao’s only purpose. It flies without wings.

It is hard to do nothing. By force of habit,
And the mind with its ego’s most arrogant ways,
I’ll unconsciously mess with things to get results.
But the Tao doesn’t chide me with vicious insults
In the form of bad outcomes and certain malaise
If indeed I remember to take note of it.

Before The Mind Rushes In

Peaceful Prelude To Illusion

The First Moments of noticing anything new
Flash within, yet, unnoticed, they then fade away.
Just as quickly, the ego mind wants to rush in
Because it needs to know things so it can begin
To adopt a conception. That is its forte.
Now, well shrouded, these first moments one cannot view.

If one is a professional, use of the mind
Is of immense importance throughout the workday.
If relied on completely though, one may become
Cold to others because the feelings have grown numb.
Circumvent well one can this and still not betray
All the skill and experience which is defined.

The paths of the spiritual healers are such
That their minds are no issue. They have them controlled
So that they reach the person and not the symptom…
Nor a patient or client. The healing comes from
Their connection with spirit. The power they hold
Is one most universal. We all are in touch.

Many times we’re not thinking. The moment we see
Something new, for a brief while, we take it all in.
There’s that space unattended and free of judgement.
Being more conscious of this awareness event
Intertwined with the ego is where to begin
Deepening of the person who I’m meant to be.

On Transforming The Tough Spot

Transforming the Bad Situation

Lessons learned by children who have gone through the worst
One could ever imagine are wisdom for all.
With our lives, our comparisons, uselessly made
To the wrong kinds of people may leave us betrayed
By ourselves through the process. The ones who are small
And erupting with life know not that they are cursed.

In the mid nineteen thirties, the plight of the Jews
That we know as the holocaust, was never known
By a brother and sister – the girl aged thirteen
And the boy, about eight years. Hate would intervene
In their healthy development. Left on their own
At the fate of the Nazis, they’d no right to choose.

Family Separation does damage untold
And creates special karma for those who do wrong.
This level of malevolent behavior brings
Upon its perpetrators appropriate things.
Thankfully, by God’s nature, most children are strong.
Fun and joy are their essence when they’re not controlled.

Taken from wealth and comfort to life in duress,
The young boy did adapt well. A toll it did take
On the teen and with hormones of adolescence.
Just because the boy lost something, she took offense
And belittled her brother who was a headache.
Her truest discontentment she could not repress.

They were then separated. This turn of events
Sent her off to a death camp where she did not die
But was worked to death daily for more than four years.
As the only survivor, she shed many tears
For the loss of her family. And this is why
She avowed to recover from guilt that torments.

She was harsh with her brother. He now was no more.
She regretted those last things she’d said in anger.
She committed to saying only a kind word
To all she may encounter, for it is preferred
Since we know not if this is the last encounter.
Her life blossomed because she found the open door.

So… Live Your Life

There's No Alternative To Living

Who whispers the answers to what I haven’t asked,
Knowing that I seek guidance along my own way?
If my way is my own, should I not be the one
To reply to my questions? In doubt I must shun
Solutions I come up with each and every day.
I know not what I’m doing. This is my forecast.

“Live your life so that fear of death never enters
Your brave heart or your spirit. Live and beautify
All the things in your life. Respect all whom you meet.
Love your life. Be of service. Ignore the drumbeat
That is harsh and discordant, and never deny
Your alignment with your truth, as spirit prefers.

Find your joy and be grateful for all that you’ve got.
Gratitude is the attitude worthy of grace
To help you get through tough times with relative ease.
Grovel not to another as if their feces
Is of glorified essence. Self-pride do embrace.
If you cannot feel grateful, you suffer a lot.

You will sing like a hero your going home song
And not long for more time to relive what has passed
In a different way. The regretful one weeps
For the loss of the dying self. The wise one keeps
In the heart memories of well-challenged contrast.
Know that life is a blessing that doesn’t last long.”

The Future Post Virus

Toward A Newer Normal

Microorganisms other than us are we,
And few cells truly are ours. The process of birth
Blesses newborns with bacteria and good germs.
They add to the new person, in most certain terms,
Symbiotic survival while here on this earth.
This relationship satisfies both completely.

Until death do us part, my acquired cells and those
Of my own are the dynamic duo that keeps
Me alive and performing at my very best.
I feel certain imbalance whenever I’m stressed.
It is best that I honor these feeling receipts.
Surely if I ignored them I would welcome woes.

We’ve been in a pandemic. There isn’t a soul
Who knows not this true fact due to technology.
So, it does get inflated, and more of us die.
Yet it’s of grave importance. We cannot deny
Proper communication. Eventually
An effective solution helps us reach our goal.

But vaccines are like old jokes to sharp viruses.
One word changed in the punchline will make them mutate.
Earth has formed neural networks. All life plays a part.
When the brain of the planet discovers its heart,
Dysbiosis will cease, then nature can create
Maximum diversity to cure weaknesses.

Our Time Is Limited

The Swirl Of Eternity

Mother nature gives birth to death, and life renews.
That’s the way it has been since it all came to be
Beheld within the consciousness of humankind
…Surely eons before that if one keeps in mind
That forever is something that humans can’t see.
Death is life’s invention. No one does it excuse.

If I live each day if it were to be my last,
Someday certainly I’ll be correct. But would I
Want to do things I’d planned on when I didn’t know
I’d have one day to do them? Perhaps I’d forego
Most for the most important so that when I die
I won’t leave a big mess by my living half-assed.

I’ll do well to remember my mortality.
Knowing that I’ll be dead someday is a great tool
To help me make big choices in life that remains
By the will of whatever existence maintains
To support constant change. Though up close it looks cruel,
From the spirit’s perspective, there’s much more to see.

 I am already naked. I’ve nothing to lose
So there’s no good reason to not follow my heart.
Death is life’s special agent. It moves me along
So that I am prepared for a richer swan song.
I must not live for others nor be torn apart
By entrapment in dogma and death-wishing views.

Justice

...The Most Bitter of Sweetness

Bittersweetness befitting the freedom to be
Jubilant through the damage one person has done
Is the kind that may change ways that make life better
Among we the united. Events that occur
Of aberrant behavior exposed to the sun
Now gain worldwide attention immediately.

Big brother may be watching, but we see as well
By the same social means that reflect how we feel
About life and the right to breathe freely each day.
All the world knows some people are treated this way
And it’s not from a textbook. Indeed, it’s for real.
No matter who one is, one can sense a bad smell.

Tempered anticipation of verdict unknown
Draws a knot to the stomach. Expecting the worse,
Due to current and past acts of racial bloodshed,
What to think of a next step? A feeling of dread
Grips the soul at its core, and it acts like a curse
Self-inflicted and chilling right down to the bone.

Finally there’s rejoicing and dancing in streets
For our faith in true justice has not let us down.
Take not my breath for granted nor snuff it away.
History shall record this a pivotal day
For all people – especially black ones and brown.
Evil must suffer challenges and swift defeats.

Instant Gratification

Accelerated Manifestation

I would start with “I Am!” This true statement affirms
That I am fully conscious and worldly aware.
Things happen instantaneously nowadays.
This trend accelerates as we find faster ways
To live out our mortality. It’s become rare
That the growth of a process is seen on its terms.

We are thoroughly programmed to want things done fast.
There’s no two ways about it. If we have to wait,
We’re uptight and insulted. We may go berserk.
Keeping customers satisfied takes lots of work
So they continue improving how they create
And deliver in timeliness that’s unsurpassed.

To oneself this phenomenon can be applied.
I can want something right now then give it some force
Of my conscious attention, and feel the feeling…
Knowing and believing that it is a sure thing –
Like tomorrow’s sunrise, and the infinite source
Of all life on the planet with which I’m allied.

I Am Certain that, in time, things I want fulfilled
Will occur as I will them if I write them down
In clear and concise statements most regularly,
Then, focus on the feeling rather intently,
What is already manifest will be unbound
To the patient, unfettered self who must be thrilled.

The Process Of Awakening

The Emergence Of Consciousness

Falling back into old patterns is not to err,
For it’s part of The Process Of Awakening
To awareness transcendent and truly sublime.
I’m aware of the negative things of this time,
But to see far beyond it I’d do anything.
Sometimes processes take time. I’ll find it to spare.

It can come on spontaneously like a blast –
A volcanic eruption from pressure intense –
Or a gradual sputter, infrequent yet sure
As it burns away ego which does but obscure
The bright light of the true self – the one that makes sense
No matter what is happening in life’s contrast.

There are two views divergent. One is: Do Nothing.
Natural is the process awareness fulfills

At its own pace without interfering at all.
The other is: Do Something, but answer the call
With spiritual action, the kind that instills
Faithfulness through the process. Much good this will bring.

Therein lies the best setpoint. The blend of the two
Means that life force within me propels my intent
To engage in spiritual practices that
Are quite easy to do once I know the format.
Such hard work is a pleasure and is time well spent.
What has been and is happening has much value.

New Realities

Brighter Horizons

Things I don’t like are priceless. Their value to me
Is both great and expanding to more clarity.
My desires, by my living, are magnetic waves
That the universe picks up. Each wave then behaves
As solution phase shifted so that easily
Doors to bright New Realities I clearly see.

What I see as a nightmare is just the inverse
Of how I would prefer things. It’s the negative
Of the same image glorified. That does exist.
So this means every time that I get really pissed
Waves are transmitted telling how I’d like to live…
But to dwell on the negative is a strong curse.

What I feel as a negative I must let go.
To be focused intently on the solution
I do when it’s not in my conscious awareness
Just by knowing that the universe will address
Every detail of circumstance. My work is done!
I’m a split personality. It’s good to know.

I arrived here from spirit to play out my role
As a flesh and blood human among the contrast
Made available to me and all who partake.
The spirit helps the human to come more awake
To the positive image, brighter and more vast
Than the human can fathom with its mortal soul.

Calibrating desires is just something I do
Every moment I’m living, hence it’s natural
For this strong harmonizer to blend with discord.
But I must break that habit and start moving toward
The direction unfettered by poor rationale.
I owe this to myself now that I have a clue.

Merging Into Awareness

The Eternal Knowing

No thinking is required in this special moment
Made eternal by spacious light of consciousness
Which makes my awareness possible. My thinking
Wouldn’t add anything to it. It is nothing
But a nest of distraction and utter distress.
Yet I can detach from it by being present.

I’m aware of myself and what is around me.
That is all that is needed. Sublime subtlety
Is the nature of this kind of focusing on
Everything without context. From within is drawn
My true self at its purest most powerfully.
Merging Into Awareness does set my soul free.

Sometimes it’s just not possible to shush the mind.
So in such cases I use the body portals,
Like my breath and all my sensory perceptions.
Presence arises from this. From it I get tons
Of relief from the menacing mental canals
That I often get trapped in. I’m quite the behind.

The power itself doesn’t grow. It’s infinite.
Manifestation in me grows as I’m aware.
The more often this communion I do partake
Greater is the chance that I’ll come fully awake.
When life does something to me that doesn’t seem fair
I’ll respond – not react – with power to do right.

Fresh Advice For The Times

Cooperative Forces

Tough as nails is the business of staying alive
In a world that keeps changing, for better or worse.
At this point in time, the fate of humanity,
Operating from instinct still, brash and beastly,
May see its own extinction. Its self-contained curse
Focuses on the frictions that we all contrive.

Friction is but a blessing seen in its pure light.
Resistance is required for our survival,
For without it, too much ease in life will occur.
Opposition dealt with yields the growth we prefer.
Without fear we must welcome its kind arrival.
Seeing things in a new way makes living alright.

Knowing why there’s a problem with myself is key
To better understanding of what I create.
If I know not what ails me I cannot move past
The unknown thing that festers perversely steadfast.
I’m aware that my world is of evil and hate.
It must be a sight issue. That’s how I must see.

Loving myself I always will, even though hell.
I’ll believe I’m in heaven and up the ante
Loving myself so damned much that nothing matters.
Once I reach that awareness I can love others
Without needing theirs back. It can surely free me
From chronic people pleasing. For now, I am well.

Exit Methodologies

The Brightest Way

A black man wouldn’t hang himself. That would be like
Jewish ones suicidal wanting to be gassed.
Some will hack at their wrists. Others go by the gun.
When it comes right down to it, to get the job done
So that one doesn’t fuck up, it has to be fast…
Like electrons – not slow as in taking a hike.

My perception of self and all that I perceive…
Indeed everything I know or thought that I did
Dissipates into nothingness. I know but pain.
Logic dictates remaining would be inhumane
To the rest of hell’s residents. Heaven forbid
That I go while unnoticed as I alone grieve.

Some use cigarette burn marks to fuck with their skin.
I mean that in a kind way. I would do the same.
But I’ve fucked with this website for too many years.
It’s not quite as effective. I’ve shed enough tears
Speaking out but not one God Damned person I claim
As a point of connection, much to my chagrin.

A poet I’ll still call myself even as I
In one last burst defiant to stark nothingness
That this world thing and all I know is and always
Has been and will be. How dare that I covet praise!
I’m a drop in a strange bucket and nothing less
Than a weary old nigger just wanting to die.

On Beating The Blues

Endless Cycles Of Gloom

An old man on a job search is death wish engaged
At full throttle straight into the darkness of hell.
Able bodied I am with an excellent mind
But this world doesn’t see that. In essence, it’s blind
To what I have to offer. I’m just a hard sell
To the age of the phone app. Indeed I’m outraged.

But who gives a bat’s dropping among hell’s elite?
Having spent the last few weeks as a prostitute
On the road and in offices for interviews
That upset and degrade me, I’ll not self-abuse
As I sense that’s the intent because they can’t shoot
Me for sport or for pleasure. Still I’m in defeat.

Sent way out to the boondocks through Amazon Flex
With a carload of packages on gravel roads
With no God Damned thing guiding me but a phone app
Then the fucking phone dies. The whole day’s turned to crap
I bent over and puckered for copious loads
Of the dark seed of Satan in virtual sex.

I’d take this as a joke played on me with a smile
And forget like a bad dream what’s happened to me
If I were a lot younger – not old and depressed.
Vows I’ve made to my doctors were not made in jest
But when push comes to shove one would have to agree
That to ask for a breastfeeding isn’t my style.

I cannot be employed, yet Magic I create.
I have many fine talents and education
That I’m still paying off after decades by now.
This life hates my damned guts. This fact I can allow
To solidify suicidal decision.
But for now, I’ve decided to nourish my hate.

Seven Ages Of Consciousness

Seven Stages of Humanity's Growth

Seven cycles of twelve years – a normal lifespan
Corresponding to Jupiter’s solar orbit –
Are the Ages of Consciousness of humankind.
The gas giant’s influence on how we’re designed
Has to do with expansion of human spirit
Through each phase of development. Whose is this plan?

Not that it matters muchly that living takes place
Within provident cycles. The world is a stage.
The first act played upon it is of innocence
And conforming to standards. From this stage is whence
We advance to the ego. With fear we engage
The illusion of crisis in love or disgrace.

Powerful is the next act. Material gain
Through obtaining of assets the young lover sees
As righteously courageous for the family.
One consumes the adventure most voraciously
With community service and actions that please
Everyone in one’s circle through sunshine and rain.

Amplified in our giving, the soldier instinct
Comes acute with the passion of security.
Ego has become socialized and made a tool
For the next stage of judgement and sharp ridicule
Of the system’s mis-workings. The need to be free
Of the full-bodied duty will soon be distinct.

Wisdom is that of old age. The heart of the sage
In weak health with thin body and loose fitting clothes
Has become again childlike, recalling the days
When one had much more relevance and garnered praise.
Helplessly, losing all touch, the consciousness goes
Long before the remainder is swept off the stage.

What Really Matters

The Search For Life's Truest Meaning

Seductive and hypnotic is movement of thought
Through the bowels of the gray matter. Deeply ingrained,
My subconscious assumption that this moment now
Is of lesser importance than the next somehow,
Causes me much frustration, in that I’m constrained
To what is nonexistent. In this web I’m caught.

So I hear people speak of This Moment so much.
It is vital I get what the hell these folk mean.
It ain’t all that damned obvious to the novice
How to find in This Moment some measure of bliss.
It don’t take much pretending before I come clean
With my truest of feelings responsive to touch.

What’s important is already here, I must know,
And not in the next moment which does not exist.
Ever presence is consciousness’ only act.
In the place of no substance nor form, the abstract
Shining essence of my true self cannot be missed.
In all that I’ve become, I’ve the need to let go.

Realizing this truth takes some practice for sure.
Everybody inherits the pattern of mind
That lives outside of right now. So practice it takes.
It requires little effort or psychic headaches
To achieve awareness of the transcendent kind.
What matters in This Moment will ever endure.

When I Have Fear

The Illusion Transcendent

I have fear unbecoming a creature of God
That I still may have many years left to endure
Bloody hell on this wretched earth. My humanness
Is a curse – not a blessing. I know not success
To be worth my pursuing it. Quite insecure
Is the thin thread I dangle from. This life is flawed.

When I fear that my thinking will go on this way
To the point of considering ways to check out…
And when some reassurance that I here belong
Having made life a failure by being so wrong
In relating to rightness does not come about
It’s doubtful I’ll be here by the end of the day.

When my guts choke what feeds them perpetually
And their out of phase rhythm defies natures role…
When complaining to doctors leads to the dead end –
Absolute like a brick wall, deeper I descend
To that dark, choking space. I’m not one to console.
If God would deem it worthy, I would cease to be.

Thought becomes intervention. The things that I’ve tried
And failed at most horrendously are stepping stones.
“You just need to hang in there…” That’s so God Damned trite,
But this prison has strange rules that I cannot fight.
These insults are acceptable to my weak bones.
With my life’s final chapter I am satisfied.

The Meaning Of Life

Fundamental Purpose

If one has but a ‘why’ one can bear any ‘how.’
As suggested by Nietzsche, life is very hard.
Does this mean I am tested in all that I do?
Certainly! There is darkness I must look into
For the purpose of healing whatever is scarred
By neglect of my visiting outside of now.

In the darkest of places, if I can still find
A faint glimmer of something, I’ll know it’s real light.
Life’s malevolence is ineradicable.
The intent and extent is unfathomable.
I need Sustaining Meaning to keep me alright.
If well-armed with some virtue, then I am aligned.

A life instinct is meaning. I need a reason
To get out of bed even on terrible days.
Nobleness in one’s purpose is not optional.
If one has not, then one is most vulnerable
To the clutches of evil and all of its ways.
Clutching on to some purpose, true life is begun.

I’ll get out and do something. It may turn out wrong,
But at least I’ll have learned then correct my mistakes.
My remaining in stasis leads to getting old
And decrepit from laziness. Purpose is gold.
Life is hopelessly woven in fear and heartbreaks.
Pointed in some direction, I am somewhat strong.

Choice

The Right Of Free Will

I don’t know where my hiccup decisions come from.
They’re like guttural spasms. The choking of air
Is the constant anxiety. Thinking things through
Only adds more confusion. Whatever I do,
Worrying about worrying while in despair
Is a blend of psychosis that renders me numb.

In my mind there’s a feedback loop endlessly closed.
Thoughts that speed as if race cars are always the same.
Did I take enough time to consider every
Possible thing I should have and confidently?
In a dither of doubt no relief can I claim.
Choices are not decisions. My truth is exposed.

There are infinite data – too much to take in
For any given situation that occurs.
Deciding on an issue by using the mind
May result in catastrophe for my behind.
Doing just as I please is what this self prefers.
Can there be a solution that won’t mete my sin?

Mystical states of consciousness can be achieved
Where there is a natural lightness of feeling
Difficulty is effortless. Life is a breeze.
I’m not at that place yet, but I feel more at ease.
I’m a cloud not misshapen… a God awful thing
That is badly designed. In that, I am relieved.

The awareness state I’m conditioned to resist.
The repugnant sensation of discord creates
Sensory basis for the ego to appear
To convince me that no state is better than fear.
We are not helpless creatures consumed by our fates.
Intuition is something that can’t be dismissed.

Just Attend To Your Breathing

The Life Affirming Function

A delightful companion is always a plus
In the fine art of ‘breath watching,’ as it is called.
It’s a mechanism of the body, we know.
When we pay more attention to it, we will grow
Both in health and in spirit. We can be enthralled
By this motion magnificent for life and thus.

It is the most practiced form of meditation.
It’s so basic and simple while easy to do
Since we do it most constantly yet not aware
Of this God given process. We give much more care
To our outward appearance, but any guru
Would advise more attention to breathing be done.

A sharpness or a keenness begins to ensue
As perfect becomes practice within a time short.
It’s a process amazing most naturally.
One can only get more conscious and completely
Needless of preparation or others’ support.
An increase in awareness will surely accrue.

The perpetual play of my breath, as I see,
The maker of my body holds with a kind hand.
The taker of my being, the same creator
Whose hand I firmly hold until there is no more,
Has no wish to escape. My most vital demand
Is ongoing fulfillment of wanting to be.

Be Prepared For The Blessing

Always Ready For Goodness

When in need of a blessing it is absolute.
While in tough situations where I see no way
To resolve them my desperation hinders me.
The divine never intended myself to be
So confused and unable to dash the dismay
That the soul in its darkness just cannot transmute.

To prepare for what’s coming, empty I must be
Of myself so that divinity can then fill
Me with itself completely. I’ll get in the way
Of the things that I want. If I could only stay
In a state of receiving not by force of will
Then all things that I’ve wanted are waiting for me.

I must bow in obedience to the divine
Who knows much more than I do with a larger view
Of the image I can’t see quite clearly enough.
What is gigantic for me is pretty small stuff
To one who caused the big bang and nothingness too.
Faith is the firm believing that everything’s fine.

I must learn to be patient while doing my part
Which is maintaining focus and staying aligned
To the guidance I’m given intuitively.
Loaves of bread and fish can multiply easily
With a faith more fantastic and blessing inclined.
Faith is not such a mystery. It’s of the heart.

Accessories To Life

The Information Divide

By the time she’s fifteen all that she will have seen
Is a hundredfold more than what I at that age
Could have ever imagined. She knows everything.
The devices she uses skillfully will bring
Anything that is dreamed of right to center stage
With detailed information upon a touchscreen.

The Big Bang of Technology when it occurred
Made it so the whole world is fully connected
And able to communicate information
Faster than an eyeblink. Our minds are overrun
With crap loads of minutia. We’re constantly fed
By the marvel’s malevolence which is deferred.

I need not blow the whistle. I am an old fart
And the sound would be putrid by nose or by ear.
But I knew not of boredom when I was a child.
Everything did excite me. My spirit was wild.
Children find it difficult to hold something dear
When contact through a smartphone replaces the heart.

Most unprecedented is the current onslaught
Upon this generation, as never before
Have kids lived half their lives through the shortening years.
When all sense of true meaning in life disappears
It may get to the point where one can take no more.
It is urgent to counter such unhealthy thought.

There is something to live for. It’s not family,
My career, thoughts, nor feelings. The drama of these
Are abstracted creations played out in the mind.
To be touched by life is to be blessed by the kind
Gentle knowing within self. The accessories
Of my life consists of all else, as it should be.

The Healers

Caretakers Of Humanity

Recognizing The Healers among us for me
Is an easy thing simply because I am one.
Most descriptions of INFP’s, as we’re called,
Say that all that can keep us forever enthralled
Are the things of the spirit. Indeed we have fun
While exploring the human soul… usually.

Introverted, Intuitive, Feeling, (one more)
And Perceiving – these four words are the acronym
For we INFP types. Does this make me proud?
Quite in spite of my ego, to life I’m avowed.
Darkness like the horrendous scourge of racism
Is but fuel for enlightenment. It’s not a bore.

We love speaking in parables and metaphors.
Inventing fresh new symbols to share our ideals,
We are at our creative best. Keen rhetoric
Fascinates us to no end, and our minds are quick.
The slow speed of mere lightning is not that which heals.
Infinite is the frequency spirit endures.

We become overwhelmed often, and we do err
Because we are as human as all humankind.
Altruistic are we, and we’re misunderstood.
One’s perfected morality is for the good
Of the soul of the planet. The task we’re assigned
Is to process experiences and to share.

Invictus

The Invincible One

The dark night of the soul of all humanity
Blankets me in a blackness, the darkest I’ve known
Since the virus of racism caught humankind
In the hell made a battlefield of the sick mind.
Nonetheless I am thankful that I’m not alone.
By divinity power is given to me.

I remember past challenges. I was constrained
Yet I showed no discomfort nor did I complain.
Beaten brutally by unyielding circumstance,
I am given much more than a black snowball’s chance
To rise up like the phoenix with heaven to gain.
Looking on toward the future, my pride is maintained.

Though the challenge seem futile as death changes ways
It can have its way with us, sincere is my hope
That the same God who strengthens me will help me do
Everything in our powers to rightly subdue
The dark shadow that threatens all. On the tightrope
In a serious circus, I want for no praise.

Matters not does it how dark night gets before dawn.
Fully am I prepared, for robust is my will
Through incurred purgatories. I am the master
Of my fate and the captain (as I’d most prefer
It be always) of my soul and its expert skill.
United we combat illness until it’s gone.

Wisdom Of Youth

All The Young Sages...

We adults think we know everything to be known
And that only from us should our children be taught.
We take not this approach with our vegetables.
They don’t need any training. Nature enables
Youthful living creatures to receive what is sought.
We can learn things from children if not ego prone.

Wisdom doesn’t come from us and then trickle down
To the newest arrivals. It’s drawn from below.
As it makes its way upward through society,
What is no longer working can be completely
Overhauled or discarded. The seed we do sow
Knows of its royal essence while reaching the crown.

Our young collect pebbles, colored shiny objects,
And all sorts of things trivial to you and me.
But they are the most precious things to a young one.
They know not how to play our game. It isn’t fun
Because it’s one of power which they don’t yet see
As worthwhile and of value in certain aspects.

And we must educate them and teach them values
So that they learn the real game to play it to win.
But the game, when it’s mastered, brings on but the truth
That they had while of innocence back in their youth.
Feeling no satisfaction they suffer chagrin
Having fallen for learning the best ways to lose.

Older folk have their purpose. It’s to become wise
In the ways of experience. We learn to teach.
There’s no way to the kingdom of heaven unless
We become like children. If we can acquiesce
To the wisdom of freshness in time, we may reach
A sublime evolution as brilliant youth rise.

Thoughts On Death

The Adjustment Through Mourning

Wondering what it would be like to go to sleep
And to never wake up is the fog of mourning.
The next logical question, were it to be asked
Through gut wrenching emotion for one who has passed,
Is: “What was it like waking up after having
Never been asleep?”
(If you don’t know… This Is Deep!)

Thoughts of death bring on panic – an instinct normal
For surviving, as creatures of nature we are.
Disappearance from earth is simply seasonal.
Every current of life leads to one waterfall.
One cannot fight the current. The stream is by far
Too much for the mere ego who must feel but small.

Happiness and security doesn’t consist
Of the clinging onto things… especially change.
Senses become awakened with this much insight.
A discernible difference ever so slight
Between this world and heaven can be not so strange.
It’s been known that the two worlds indeed coexist.

We all know very well that after people die
Other people are born, and we all are the same.
We can only experience one at a time
Each and everyone of us. Is this not sublime?
When death comes to us we are still part of the game.
Letting oneself accept it is the best goodbye.

It All Goes Together

Nature's Imperfect Puzzle

All of life is a process and is of all things
We perceive as inanimate. Relationship
Between organism and the environment
Is one that is built upon mutual consent.
Not by chance can the process be able to whip
Its own self into being. Somehow intent rings.

From the very beginning of things as they are…
The earth brings forth its life forms. The life, in return,
Recreates the environment. This is process!
The big moment that went Bang has done so to stress
Its dynamic creative force. Its sole concern
Is diversity infinite and most bizarre.

Through the ages, people’s common sense has been played.
We’re made to feel as if we are aliens here,
Separated from earth and from one another.
Questioning these assumptions will often occur
To some few through awakening out of their fear.
They’d decided to discard the social charade.

People thought once earth was flat until someone
Sailed around it, thus disproving what was well known.
They got used to believing the new truth revealed.
I must use discernment to not be drawn afield
Of free will in my thinking. No one is alone
But a part of the process that can’t be undone.

We Wear The Mask

Human Prfessions of Pretense

Basic forms of humanity all are but one
Yet discordant illusions are what people wear.
I must put on the character act that I know.
As it smiles and pretends, it puts on a smart show.
Keeping up the performance I do in despair
For the way that things are and the harm that is done.

In my home I am no one I’d care not to be
Necessarily so. But the mask that shines through
The bright soul that’s behind it I’m tasked to maintain.
Other people near me is one huge psychic drain.
If my speech become tainted and shocking in hue
May I then be the wiser in all that I see?

Since I am not this body, nor am I the mind
With susceptible subtleties to clouded view,
The costume and the archetype others require
I may use to express my most heartfelt desire
To know what is acceptance. So long overdue
Is the wisdom and logic of being more kind.

Ever resident turmoil, insidious hate…
All the worst of our species along with the best…
Form an intricate fabric stuck fast in the clay.
Let us smile and cry out with a song to betray
Our true selves and our tortured souls at the behest
Of the world dream transparent we’re doomed to create.

Let Go

The Easiest Thing To Do

Once upon a time, there were two monks on a walk.
One was senior; one junior. On the riverbank
Stood a young lady stressed about how she would cross
Such an unfriendly aquatic force with no loss
Of life. She could not swim, to be perfectly frank.
All she could do is watch the damned think like a hawk.

Now, the monk who was junior just walk right on past
The poor woman. He then swam to the other side.
But the senior monk carried her as he waded
The full width of the vastness. This messed with the head
Of the monk who was junior. Though hard as he tried,
What he’d witnessed the elder do left him aghast.

“How could you carry her like that?” Asked the young one.
“We cannot touch women. It is against our ways.”
The response of the senior monk was surprising.
“I stopped carrying her way back. I’m wondering
Why you still carry her and why your being stays
In the past unaffected by all that is done?”

The old one broke a rule for someone in great need
Then let go of its breaking as urgency passed.
If I hang on to something that causes me pain
I cannot but relive it. I’ve nothing to gain.
Vicious cycles of suffering can only last
As long as I allow them my life to impede.

The New Day

Rise And Shine

Preceding the new day, I am already here.
The first thought that emerges must come from somewhere…
And that place is within me. I notice the mind
Fishing frantic for personhood as it’s inclined.
I need not engage with it but just be aware.
My emergence into now becomes ever clear.

It is not yet a habit but good exercise.
If I practice it daily – just being Present
I will notice my true self within a vastness,
As the mind like a butterfly finds its egress
From the space that allows it, I’ll find deep content
With myself, the new day, and the life enterprise.

Be aware of the nothingness in the expanse
That allows all to enter. The things that arise –
Memories and projections that must coalesce
And precipitate personal powerlessness
Pale pathetic compared to my Being in size.
Simply Being Aware does the process enhance.

Being hugged from the inside out by someone whom
I’ve made some scant acquaintance I’d like to occur
As often as is possible. While getting there,
My awareness of progress I’ll nurture with care.
I can get the day to unfold as I’d prefer
From the Presence and Beingness I can assume.

Before Sleeping

Bedtime Routine

I can incubate good or bad things while I sleep.
Getting up on the wrong side of bed results from
Waking up to the harshness of an alarm clock
After dreams of unpleasantness cut short by shock
Back into hard reality. Nasty moods come
From nocturnal nurturance of crap that I keep.

Sleeping not well not only does harm to the mind.
Over time it can also affect the body.
So, it is most important that I be aware
Of some things I can do so that I best prepare
For a night of excitement and true fantasy.
To wake up feeling joyful I am so inclined.

Men perform the three ‘s’ functions when they arise.
Likewise, before it’s bedtime, a wholesome routine
Must include my not eating three hours… perhaps four…
So the digestive system can aptly restore
Itself to proper balance. It keeps the pipes clean.
To demand that they work night shift ain’t too damned wise!

Since I am mostly water, at night I should drink
Just enough that the body can do what it needs…
And a long lukewarm shower relieves certain stress
As it flushes the crud and the day’s toxic mess.
Neither mind nor the body, my true self succeeds
By observing wellbeing evolve in the pink.

Getting Better All The Time

Can't Get No Worse

I’ll catch life by the corner. By pulling away
The dim layer of perception, I’m given new sight
Of the same world yet different, and hugely so.
If this is just a lucky streak I’d like to know
Directly from Divinity… Am I alright?
Am I worthy of having a wonderful day?

When to me something good happens, upward I’ll look
For things resembling big shoes. Some lack of control
Is what I feel. The tiger I’ve grabbed by the tail
May simply be so much that I cannot prevail
On my path of alignment, which is not my goal.
To my God I am read like a bestselling book.

If it gets even better, what then will I do?
If I ask for mere millions and get way much more,
Should I melt in humility? God would say, “No!”
I deserve and can handle abundance and flow

Of all goods, resources, and wellbeing in store.
I must know that I’m truly worthy in God’s view.

There is always a clear path of least resistance.
The Divine is right on it and leads me along
With encouraging nudges of inspiration.
We were put here to journey and have as much fun
As this world can provide us. How can this be wrong?
All I need do is chill and enjoy the expanse.

Selflessly Selfish?

Balance Between Self And Others

Deadly sins are perhaps more than one hand can hold.
They could simply be seen as the process of growth
Of the healthy young ego into an adult.
If the challenge is too much often the result
Is arrested development and evil both.
Most hold on to their false selves until they are old.

Somewhere in early childhood the ego is born.
Behaviors that are noticed include jealousy,
Envy, greed, and self-interest in a big way.
They learn to become hurtful by things that they say
In response to feelings of inadequacy.
To be sharp and offensive the ego is sworn.

There are times we hurt others but unconsciously
By fulfilling one’s own needs instead of those whose
Expectations manipulate others’ free will.
To withhold one’s true inner needs just to fulfill
Selfish wishes of others is to put the screws
On the spirit’s development definitely!

But to do but for others means not to deny
Deeper needs within true self, for included there
Is the need to help others because it feels good…
 Never from a constructed image of falsehood.
Evolving past adulthood, the need is to care
For the whole human race with no thought about why.

Never Feel Negative?

Achieving The Impossible?

There’s this thing called “The Stream.” Everything in it flows
Only in one direction. The current some fight,
And this taxes the mood. People bring themselves down
Putting forth so much effort perfecting the frown.
Others let “The Stream” carry them and find delight
In the places it takes them. Their happiness shows.

To believe in “The Process” is simply to know
That I can always catch myself losing control
In a ‘tense’ situation. I’m pointed upstream!
My emotions cause me to act in the extreme.

In the moment I realize this, I’m more whole.
Letting go of the oars, I can let “The Stream” row.

Just let go of the bullshit. It’s not worth the harm
That it does to the spirit, and in the release
I will notice The Turning immediately.
And in time pleasant manifestations I’ll see.
Confidence in my worthiness must then increase.
“The Process” takes some practice but works like a charm.

“The Stream” moves rather quickly after turning me
In the proper direction. So, my letting go
Of the thoughts that upset me is all that I need
In any situation to get myself freed
From my having turned upstream. And now that I know,
No excuse have I for acting negatively.

Living In Accord With Nature

Tao Of The Earth

Yin, the black… Yang, the white, in a dutiful dance,
Define all that is nature. In darkness must grow
Any seed that is planted. It reaches full light
In the process of growing. Its will to unite
With its other component is what people know,
But it’s deeper than that. It’s a rugged romance.

Ancient myths, rites of passage, and natural ways
Were designed to connect the body with the mind.
The latter can go off and do quite its own thing.
It wants things that the body prefers it not bring
To the table organic because it’s designed
To adhere to its nature throughout all its days.

Messages in the bottles from shores far away
Over eons eroding not, myths tell a tale
Of the human condition in ways subjective.
The collective unconscious teaches how to live
In accordance with nature and on a large scale.
Those who’ve mastered the passage have so much to say.

I must know that I’m mortal and all that it means
To move out of a sphere of achievement into
A relaxing refreshment enjoying it all.
I have given up big things to honor the small.
Rather than the lightbulb, I’m the light that shines through.
Consciousness is our essence – not fleshy machines.

The Saddest Lines

The Story Unending

I could write some sad lines with this sorry assed life,
And it don’t take too damned much to jerk myself off.
In some ways it’s a blessing perfecting the fool
So that love has a purpose to earn ridicule
From the sensible masses. The dog whistle cough
Is a thickness I cut through with my psychic knife.

In her heart she defeats me, and I know not why
In the midst of eternity now should occur.
 Incremental dissolving of love not cared for
And forever unspoken I cannot ignore.
How I long for the sweetness of things as they were
Is the reason I can’t go for a second try.

Some unknown evil spirit has occupied me.
What has taken my feelings infiltrates the void
Where my heart felt at home once. The unwanted guest
Is the hermit made harlot at one with my nest.
Will I get myself back without being destroyed?
Time I have plenty of. I shall just wait and see.

I can write through the darkness as if it were light.
Make believe is an artform the whore understands.
Illusion may expel her or turn her into
A benevolent entity. These lines are few
And the last to be offered. Survival demands
That I learn, then move on with improvement in sight.

Memories Cherished

Indelible Impressions

Many kindhearted people, some angels by now,
And with uncommon patience, have made who I am.
What is wrong about me is my own tangled mess
Aggravated by madness. I am, more or less,
Created in the image of those who I damn
With my inverse reflection, full well knowing how.

Beating up on myself I’ve made into an art –
Just as those who cared for me and those who I played
An unworthy role model… ruthless and profane.
I took every advantage and caused awful pain.
With my bed made, I’m sleepless and cannot evade
The grotesque beast that I’ve been with sickness of heart.

Planted deep in my conscious soil germinates seed
From the heart of the righteous. Love once within reach
Now is longing disabled. Survival logic
Is a piss poor facsimile and a cheap trick.
This I’m fully aware of. Lessons others teach.
Acting out as the student, I had failed to lead.

Not at all melancholy, pleasure now I take
In the clearness of knowing what my makers knew
Since before I had met them. The thoughts I embrace
Generated by feelings of knowing their grace
Satisfy but the least that my writing can do
To give some indication that I’ve come awake.

What Else Could Go Wrong?

Words Never To Be Spoken

Lapsing into the luxury of commenting
On downturns heir apparent and workplace remorse,
One can only become a cantankerous cuss.
The attraction time buffer I’ll take as a plus
I can use to make changes guided by the Source
With the widest perspective who knows everything.

I attract what comes, but there is no real delay.
If I stay ticked off long enough hell will brake loose
In a mean millisecond. “What else could go wrong?”
I shall never repeat. To the Source, it’s a song
That sings, “Bring me much what else…” This is self-abuse!
How can I expect goodness if I am this way?

Rather than listening to the negative news
And the gear shifting gossip… Before leaving home
I can focus the new day into how I feel –
Morning fresh and abundant. I’ll notice appeal
Where I had not expected. Freed from the syndrome
Of the ho-hum habitual, I may amuse.

Before manifestation of good things or bad,
The perception of time is the steering away
From the path that was chosen, then coming right back
To the track one was on but with some sense of lack.
Knowing Source is a process one learns day by day.
Benefits that are promised remain ironclad.

The Mountain Of Gold

The Essence Of Richness

Bigger, better belief battles fought over land
In the mindscape millennial these times evoke.
Prophecies’ perseverance does panic prepare
Those of good mind and spirit for others’ big scare.
Who have made a fine art of the blowing of smoke
Up through those they attach to despite the left hand?

Somewhat hard up for content, this is exercise
For my dance anapestic of daily routine.
Writer’s block’s not the issue. I pick of strange fruit
Then attempt to digest it when not resolute
In my wanting to tackle it. But to come clean
On the matter is infinitely much more wise.

An end times tale of interest to everyone
Must involve a gold mountain so people can fight
For the right to possess it. Is this a new sign
Or an old one rescripted by man, the divine?
Gold erections seem sacred and common a sight –
One in which all religion is faithfully run.

Does the fan hit the feces before the crow cocks?
Or is it somewhere written that men may become
Awakened by the madness set into motion?
We keep looking for signs, yet we’ve never begun
Being truthful about where our evil comes from.
Once we do, we will want to avoid the soap box.

On The Cusp Of Ides Fear

Panorama Of Perfection

The ongoing transition from darkness to light
Is sustained by refreshings of blessings and more
Than my conscious awareness can ever recall.
My desires over lifetimes, some big and some small,
Form an energy vortex of all I’ve asked for.
Memory can’t keep track of all things that excite.

Knowing then what I’m wanting, I’m quite far along
In the creative process. What had to have come
Before wanting is feeling contrast and the need
For a worthy solution. The will to succeed
I dare keep to myself lest my spirit succumb
To destructive opinions that may be flat wrong.

The two basic vibrations, belief and desire,
Operate but rarely at the same frequency.
When they don’t, discontentment is all I can feel,
But when they’re in alignment, my dreams become real.
I am born to create my own reality –
Not to face someone else’s. Now, that would be dyer.

To become an Inventor is to be aware
That intentions are mothers that love to give birth
To gestating desires brought about through some pain.
My mood is most important. Therein I may gain
Access to things I’ve wanted since being on earth.
Thankfully, this is not all that urgent to share.

Love Is Enough

What Keeps Earth In Its Orbit

As the birth of the ego in real time is known
By the saving of daylight, no more do I need
To spring forward in righteousness. Love Is Enough
To free me from a state where I sweat the small stuff…
Like this world with its darkness and malice of deed.
The woods whine as the wane, yet few wicked atone.

All the while, it’s intriguing. The shadowy hills
Hide a beauty unrecognized without the stroll
Along paths made pursuable by pure desire.
Love can all on its own get forces to conspire
Orchestrated excitement. My feeling more whole
Is itself more important than learning earth skills.

 Wet and low hanging laundry – this world and its hate –
Puts its weight on the clothesline thus pulling it down
To the mud pool below it. Love launders alone
In the heart that is steadied by all it’s been shown
By celestial theatrics performed in the round.
Love at least has the good sense to let me create…

…And create I do freely. By now it’s a breeze.
Frustrating, negative, and too often too hard,
This void’s also fulfilling. The love that I share
Is the best way to offer the cross that I bear.
Will love ever allow me to let down my guard?
Effort is sometimes needed for feeling at ease.

The Mind After Death

Release Of The Intellect

A small child with a lollipop is full of joy.
When it’s taken away, there is true agony.
These extremes felt by young ones are intense but brief.
Older children won’t let themselves show that much grief
Over what they consider triviality.
The discretional mind they have learned to employ.

My pain comes from inside me; my pleasure as well.
There are stimuli outside, but I am the one
Who decides how to take them. The cause within me
Is the source of feeling experientially.
The discretional mind is the only reason
I can feel like I’m in heaven or else in hell.

The source of all my human experiences
Always is the discretional mind, ‘til it dies.
With no lack of discretion the disembodied
Will be flooded with feelings that greatly exceed
Any felt while in human form. I’ll realize
That without the gray matter, I’m left in pieces…

…Until those in the spirit realm whom I have known
While on earth here will greet me and offer guidance.
By the force of my habit I create my hell.
With no mind to sort out things, in darkness I dwell.
I do not want to end up in that circumstance
So my quest for alignment is not overblown.

Moments Before Death

Apex Of Transition

The release of the struggle is all I live for.
Anything else is trivial if I so choose
To believe in no meaning in all existence.
All I do here is try to make some human sense
Of the whole damned experience. I pay my dues
To the denseness of this earth and long for but more.

It will come in its own time, and I know not when.
But when dark death approaches, I will be prepared.
Knowing just what might happen, I anticipate
Party time with the spirits. The mind can create
The illusion of afterlife, and what is shared
Is a scrutinous story heard over again.

It’s a humbling experience being around
Those approaching transition. Their final moments
Are spent with their focused eyes in one direction.
Looking up before liftoff, new life has begun.
The eyes follow the soul, and the last of events
To occur is a feeling of comfort profound.

When the dying look past me I know what is near.
Ego death is the only death that can occur.
It is also the only thing that can be born.
Should it be of my nature to grieve or to morn
That which gets itself from me? Do Not call it sir
For It’s but an illusion that knows only fear.

Conscious Life Management?

Organized Living?

Today’s topic is relevant as everyday’s,
And these times are especially dark and severe.
Tribalistic behaviors among our species
Reap the karma of having a worldwide disease.
All the while the most ignorant will not adhere
To the ‘useless’ precautions that alter their ways.

One of ten human beings on earth, it’s been said,
Has a conscious awareness of more taking place
Among all the aspects of the body, the mind,
Energy, and emotion. One being aligned
With their daily behaviors knows living in grace.
If such folk ruled the planet would we be misled?

Most compulsive behaviors are not conscious ones,
Rather they aren’t thought out. Clarity isn’t seen.
The live bulk of the body and caverns within
The emotional psyche, to most folks’ chagrin,
Are places where awareness is not all that keen.
It gets lost in the cells where no consciousness runs.

If in fact we were not human eons ago,
We have made quite a journey. All that we have done
To get where we are now may fizzle into waste.
Our most destructive issues will have to be faced
If our evolution is to be then begun.
Naked apes had not much choice, but we’re here to grow.

I’m Done With The World…

Resolute Abandon

Closing my eyes on this world and everybody,
Then, they’re all dead and gone. Do I dare make that so?
Or do I reach out willingly to those in need?
From my own human nature I want to be freed.
Many things I have done, but I’ve nothing to show
That can make any difference others can see.

I hope this is illusory, at least in part.
Were I not of some value I could not exist.
Everyone has a place and their work to be done.
Doing something worthwhile could be barrels of fun.
No more should I gain from it. The point would be missed.
Selflessness in one’s service is true to the heart.

Worthy I am as others are of loving grace.
In the depths of compassion is where it is found.
I may be disillusioned by current events
And prospects for a future that makes human sense.
Can I let the momentum start messing around
With my health and wellbeing? I’d be a nut case.

Four o’clock in the evening depicts my life’s day…
Sailing into a sunset that’s much prettier
And not nearly as visible as,say, high noon.
Before it sets completely my life I’ll attune
To the needs of my species as I would prefer
Rather than giving up before sailing away.

Why Worry About What Isn’t Real?

It's ALL An Illusion

The future is a figment. It has no meaning,
Yet I fix my attention on what is unknown.
I can’t fantasize endlessly nor possibly
Predict any outcome. It’s for no one to see
Because it’s nonexistent except in the zone
Where spirit and the physical are the same thing.

I need things to be real so that I may survive
As a being of spirit in physical form.
To exist in the future is not being real.
Manifold are illusions that make an ordeal
Of the process of living. The mental thought storm
Undermines everything else that keeps me alive.

Oneself is like a mountain top always exposed
To an enduring blizzard it cannot control.
Different shapes and sizes of snowflakes it sees
And in many directions and speeds in the breeze.
It can’t predict what’s coming, yet I have a soul
And the same goes for me. My mind cannot be closed.

Evidence shows that worrying makes people ill
Over time. Luckily, there are some antidotes.
Fortifying the weak mind with logical thought
Based in certain reality, one can’t be caught
In cascading delusion. Good judgment promotes
Confidence in one’s actions, much peace, and goodwill.

Ego Death

Melting The Mortal Idea

Predetermined is the exact moment of death.
I can’t leave this earth one single moment before
Nor an instant beyond the time I’m allotted.
What is not set how that I will end up dead.
I must know my surrender is the open door
Through which ego is deprived of its dying breath.

That which I know as myself and separate from
All else that must exist must be nonexistent.
It is only then that knowingness can come through.
To give up my person is a hard thing to do.
I survive by the providence of blind consent
Of forces of divinity. I must succumb.

My persona is not the essence and the source
Of affirmative consciousness given as me.
Rather it’s a well-constructed survival tool.
It behaves well mostly, but it can act the fool –
Something my true self tolerates to some degree,
For it knows not of judgment or will to enforce.

Ego death is the only death that can occur
Since the true self is selfless in every respect.
When it dies, the ego’s agony is but brief.
What is left after grieving is profound relief
From the weight of existence – the need to protect
My assumed personality and saboteur.

Wealth

The Pursuit Of All Evil

Money has much importance but little value
To the ones who must have it because they want it.
But it comes never simply by heartfelt desire
Nor by jumping through hoops that others may require.
To my own sense of worth I’m obliged to commit.
Money comes from the energy in what I do.

Famous entrepreneurs only want to create.
It’s the main driving force – not how much it will make.
They don’t think about what their fine efforts will earn.
Making something worthwhile is their only concern.
They do not wait around for the next lucky break
Nor waste time contemplating the workings of fate.

If it’s of immense value to many people
Then the joy in producing it is just enough
To jumpstart my momentum to do but my best.
Focusing on that only, in time I’ll be blessed.
My value can’t diminish through times that are tough.
When engaged in a love effort, my cup is full.

Certain breakthroughs in technology come about
Through the cycles of circumstance known to no one.
It is best that I not attempt searching for those.
Waves of time are unconscious and cannot disclose
Any hint of an outcome. The journey begun
Stimulates my self-confidence without a doubt.

Don’t Force Anything

Most Force Is Excessive

Coming into this earth life and all that is known
That I seem not to know is my grand illusion.
I am here before coming. Never am I gone.
There’s nothing of nature to be acted upon.
Following then her course I’m a threat to no one.
All that is came before me, and I’m not alone.

It’s much easier to cut wood along the lines
That are with the grain – no against. Yet cutting wood
Does not go against nature if done mindfully.
The Tao is what is nature, a democracy
Self-contained and self- governed. The bad and the good
Coexist in a strange dance that no one designs.

I can’t force a lock open because it will break
Or the key will be broken off in the keyhole.
I must jiggle it until it wants to behave.
If it chooses not to, I will not be its slave.
In accordance with nature I give up control.
Peace of mind and contentment is what is at stake.

With the patterns existing I am subject to.
To flow with what creates me is to live in grace.
The contract between bees and flowers is the same
As the one between birds and worms. There is no blame
In what seems inappropriate. To know my place
Is to be one with nature in all that I do.