Tag Archive | illusion

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.