Tag Archive | illusion

Freedom

The Wildness of Awareness

What do we know of freedom? People without grace
Populating the planet and causing disease
Across manifold species and nature’s systems,
What we manifest easily also condemns
Us to social psychosis. The power we seize
We’re not ready to deal with as one human race.

Animals of the wild – the majestic untamed,
Are the heartbeat of nature. In that, they are wise
To the ways of humanity and keep away.
Never would it occur to these ones to betray
Anything that is of them. They wear no disguise
Nor are they ever feeling distraught or ashamed.

Freedom is such a state where no choices are made.
That there is freedom in choice is simply not true.
Hesitation the act is before deciding
Which bootstraps to pull up on – an obsessive thing
To be doing to oneself. What one ought to do
Is to be more spontaneous and less afraid.

I can’t change anything here… myself included.
All I can do is witness and go with the flow
Which I know I’m a part of. It’s all that I’ll be.
I relax in this truth and have more energy
To fulfill my ambitions and wholesomely grow
To completion in freedom without the bloodshed.

Part of this world I am. I am not it’s victim
Yet a cog in a clockwork no longer impressed
By the world’s man made magic. The Freedom I know
Is the spirit within me that’s destined to grow.
We’re becoming a species that truly is blessed
But if we cannot know this our chances are slim.

The Dream Of Life

...Yet It Seems Almost Real

Awaken from illusion? Which one would that be?
Just as black implies white, self implies the other.
Death brings meaning to life. This is fundamental.
Not a stranger am I in this place where I dwell.
Believing my existence was meant to occur,
Nothing short of a death wish can awaken me.

People are going crazy as far as I see
Or perhaps it’s been ongoing since time began.
We were all meant to be here. If this isn’t true
Then we might as well give up. The grand party zoo
Is far off the deep end and akin to the klan.
Colors true are most vibrant when one is dream free.

Nine eleven was done by the Arabs, so we
Came together as one nation, yet what happened
On the sixth of the first month is nothing to fear.
Perpetrated by white men, it’s perfectly clear
That one chunk of the nation cannot comprehend
What it means to be human most regrettably.

If I dreamed many lifetimes, each of many years,
And I could author all of them as I desire,
I would want for surprise after so many nights.
I would ask for a gamble so sometimes life bites.
God comes into each person that growth may transpire.
If that presence is ignored I nurture my fears.

The Biggest Joke Of All

The Illusory Duo

Jokes I play on myself are imaginative.
If it weren’t for my trick self, I’d have none at all.
Some say I should get rid of it, But I cannot,
Because it thinks like I do. I’m all that it’s got.
Mostly it takes the big roles. I’m left with the small.
I ask myself if this is the right way to live.

But, alas, it can’t answer. It thinks everything
Is an intricate puzzle it only can solve.
When it can’t, it’s frustrated, as if it exists
As a viable entity. On it persists
In its ‘it-centric’ world where all things must revolve.
Onto some sense of purpose this person must cling.

So, there’s no getting rid of this subsequent dude
Come about like a tattoo etched over decades
Of abuse of his surface – a time tapestry
Of eternal becoming. The ink runs through me
But shows up not through thick skin. Freely it pervades
And presents as my ego. As such, I am screwed.

I end up doing nothing and leaving it to
That which is ever conscious and omni aware.
I can’t grasp nor rid myself of all I become.
I alone cannot get it. The getting comes from
Consciousness Universal which is everywhere.
There’s no need to get anything but a damned clue.

It Is All Happening Now

Eternal Beingness

Something feels great big gobs of relief in knowing
That the only occurrence is spontaneous.
Things just happen as they should or shouldn’t without
Consciousness being present. And yet there’s no doubt
Things continue to function as many discuss
Ways that they can control them because that’s their thing.

Some things get in the way of my thinking clearly.
Knowing full well that that is an oxymoron,
Still I try to break through the illusion of me.
Thoughts and feelings are much of what I seem to be.
Cloudiness leads to conclusions falsely foregone.
Reset I must my consciousness to better see.

Everything is a “happening.” This is groovy!
Time warps are but ideas, but breathing is real
Just as retinal rods and cones processing light.
Fortunately no one trusts me to get that right.
In respectful observance I touch the ideal.
Knowing there’s no observer I’m there completely.

So, there’s no self to speak of. It’s all happening.
All of now is eternal and is everywhere.
Breathing in and out happens as wind moves the clouds
Whether fate shows its favor to protesting crowds.
Nothing is more important than being aware
That distinction exists not. I am everything.

Do I Really Exist?

Questioning Consciousness

Can I transform myself? Can I make myself sane…
Or more loving or unselfish? Is that my wish?
It would seem necessary to be these fine ways
If I am to be nurtured by other folks’ praise.
When I feel I can’t do it, I’m rather sluggish
In pursuit of direction, so I act in vain.

So much says I can’t do it, but I say I can.
Gravity is an odd consequence of time/space.
This aspect makes it seem alien of nature
But indeed how can that be? Earth can but assure
That itself and I are one. I fully embrace
What this is that I’m part of as one humbled man.

Within time and space equal, all that I can do
Can’t be done because I don’t exist in that way –
An ego-separated personality.
An idea based on a fake feeling of me
Is what passes for presence each and every day.
Putting things right is futile in absence of clue.

Things exist that I can and cannot do. That’s fine.
I would pay due respect, here, knowing I’ve no choice.
All that goes on of itself is all part of me…
Which includes all of this earth most naturally.
It and I are a mutually passive voice
With no message specific. Such Being Is Mine.

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.

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.

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.

Acts Of Faith

Absolute Belief

The illusion of separateness between me
And all others and everything gets in the way
Of my trusting the universe. It must be wise,
Much more so than I am with my limited eyes.
The Tao nourishes all things in consummate play.
Letting go of the ego, I may better see.

I’ve the need to relinquish my power façade
When I notice I’m up nights consumed in worry.
My decisions, well thought out, made under duress,
Yield calamitous outcomes and increasing stress.
Snap decisions made instantly happen to be
The right ones in the long run. Now isn’t that odd?

Faith enormous and heart moving cannot be blind
For the sight is beyond what the senses behold.
It’s a leap into wellness and feeling at ease
In the world that I’m one with. Its intent to please
I must know absolutely. What e’er may unfold,
When I see life correctly, is loving and kind.

To be one with the universe, trust that it will,
Through its infinite intellect, meet all my needs.
Treat it like it’s a dear friend whom I haven’t seen
For a really long time. Then the rapport between
Me and all that exists blossoms free of the weeds.
It and I are the same thing. This should make me chill.