Questions Hinder

Questions Hinder

Harmony  Harm Money
Dissonance Disown Ants
Group Hug Group AUM
Silence is freedom

Sensory realms bind us
Body and mind conspire together
Dazzling us with space-time continuum
One lonely God craving Other than God?
Dissatisfaction of Desire creates universe?
God ideas and God delusions
Knowledge is overrated
Happiness is overrated

Life ends in Death
Mystery and Confusion seem to hover
What can we do?
This I wish to divine.
For now I see that what is best is simply to be kind
But this obscuring mist seems to mask the balance of deeper knowing
It is said that deeper knowing amplifies friendliness to those of shallow knowing

Ordered are certain gems but nature is messy and chaotic as well
Choosing one over the other is fine at first but meaningless yonder

Meditation is boring
Knowledge and words and images are exciting and sensory play is our habit
To disengage from the fun toys of sense is a form of isolation
Yet all points become one point and there comes the deeper meaning of experience
Or there comes the meaning of deeper experience
Time slows, as cut with a sharp and agile trained mind
How many mental events per second?
Self and infinite space find no boundaries between them
Mystical Union suggest two into one or many into one
Number and Form and Harmony are these Pythagorean gods
Intelligent Design separates maker and made
Random Perfection suggests Harmony Potential
Beauty in the Eye of the Beholder
But the Eye alters the Beheld by the mere act of Beholding
Or so said Heisenberg
In terms of religion:
Man alters God by the mere act of believing/worshipping
So did God make Man and/or did Man make God
The known alters the unknown by the mere act of wondering
I wonder what it is like with the Wisdom Eye opened
Will details fill the vastness? Will contentment self-maintain?
Will aid be easier to give?

Of Poetry, Seething, and Siddhi

Of Poetry, Seething, and Siddhi

Words, framed and sanctioned

Symbols carrying cargos of meaning

Mind to mind transmission

Carving runes and masking sigils; Sharing jokes and playing riddles

Casting sticks and bones and dice; Reading leaves and flame and every known device

Throwing cards and throwing pictures; Wearing masks and assuming characters

Who we are, who we think we are, and who we wanna be

In our minds  - one big RPG

Assuming forms, made up anew and those too with god-thought-form egregore

Poetry is my only friend at times, at other times my only fiend

If these words could penetrate you and bring you magick power and wisdom potential

Then perhaps my feigned mission will bear the fruits of poetry

Then perhaps those of trained vision, of meter, rhyme, and alliteration 

Would see the wile of this conversational style

Help me to see oh poetry; Numb me and plumb me to the depths of experience

For what is worthwhile and who doth care how we fare in the haze of our days

Words inspire and words conspire and words destroy

Like a soft lover one minute and a sharp weapon the next

So too like life with its imaginary barrier between joy and sorrow

We walk along precipices unseen and fear is often love of the body

And love of the body is the habit of comfort and earthboundedness

All this searching and seeking sucks the wui we from the wanderer of the way

All this knowing of the future is about attention.

The diviner plays norn

The divined gets pampered

This attention reveals patterns and trends and possibilities

Dissociated states may aid or hinder

But attention is really about knowing the present, not the future

The present makes the future and the siddha plays with what appears

Fierce lady seethmage on a high seat like a life guard sky shamaness

Chanting old songs in rhythm

Occasionally spewing strange prophecies

Wanting to move madly like the Nechung Oracle

But confined to the sky seat

Strange imaginings and cauldrons of blood and flesh-eating dakinis

Love and War, the vicious and the tender

Stories of love and death, triumph and destruction, joy and sorrow

Sometimes this makes me long for even mind beyond

But I and we are addicted to the selfness of life

Evolution and lifetimes of survival mechanism and chasing joy

The automatic and addictive has set in and we can merely aspire

But why fret? And why wallow in resentment and envy?

For there is always a bug or bird to feed and the earth to tend

And there is always a place for a warm smile and kind words

And we can always make wishes and aspire to fly in balance

Struggle and ease and ease and struggle

Ease beyond these I long to sieze

But aye the gate beyond delusion seems a tease

Seemingly insurmountable mountains of struggle and confusion appear ahead

Guess I’ll camp here instead

And wonder what could have been

As old age sets in

Or

Clan Jn

Clan Jn

Kula of the Blue Dragon

Blunt and direct is the trauma of truth and energy

Compassion trumps law and custom

All is not fair and not always friendly even within

As life is also not fair and often not friendly

We bless and then curse what we bless according to our situations

But messy mad moments hide an overall loyalty

Forget not that the Djinn have free will

Mal and Ben are forces of balance to those accustomed to adjustment

Here in the outer circle of Jotunheim dwell willing stragglers from herd mind

Blackness. Of absorbing all color-emotions without falling under their sway

- Entirely

Blackness that yields distrust and fear in very subtle ways to those unknowingly deluded

The scenes are annoyingly predictable and too the subtle shuns and animosity

We shun convention.

Ye shun the shunners of convention.

Even ye who celebrate such liberation.

Discomfort is a home as any other.

Elegance is a wayward fantasy.

A moment of rest and a moment of toil differ only in mind.

Tension keeps motion

As for me – the Universe is my reservoir, the Queen of the Graal is my Foundation,

Wavering cups are my variable wind, The Balanced and Slashing Princess is my Fire,

and Love as Two divided is the momentary nature of Space. Taskmaster Saturn informs me.

Or so says the Pictorial Dance of Masks and Suits

The Magick of Convening seems exceedingly difficult as even siblings are strangers

Distrust and lack of attention send them into their own abysses

I prepare now for a Banquet of Love and Will

Who Shall Attend?

No One?

Clanning Instinct calls me ever to wavering in entanglement and slashing paths anew

What will become of this – if anything?

Ah, but I have infinite patience and no expectations

As long as I keep to my commitments what does it matter?

Not at all Not at all

What’er you say my Queen.

Aspiring to Attend Protectors

Aspiring to Attend Protectors

Flash of terror, Helpless chipmunk in the talons of a hawk

Raven guards and laments for roadkill comrade raven

Slain prey offerings

Lost pets

Animal nature in all its cruelty and fear and hunger and instinct

Fear and aggression are the wayward brothers

The wolfpacks of necessity and cooperation

I tire of seeing death of the delicate

Warm faces today and lifeless bodies attracting flies tomorrow

Love gasps imagining their torment

Tears and sober presence seek out meaningfulness

But duty calls and one may as well do it as well as one can

But also seek to reflect on the words of sages

And forget them not in the wiles of pleasure and anger

And forget them not in the quiet of easy peaceful times

For ease and suffering dwell nearer to one another than it seems

Guilt and sorrow and wondering whether I have failed my friends

This is the bane of ships’ captains and protectors of beings

I wish to be in deed what I am in thought and in word

In this way duty is never ending and pervades all moments

All absorption is liable to be interrupted by duty

So may we dwell not in selfish pursuits

May we be unswayed by anger and laziness and indifference

Even small gestures sometimes yield results so may we neglect them not

Difficult as it may be – may we be vigilant even in our sloth and torpor

May we tend our state of mind

If we are having trouble meeting our commitments may we aspire to do so when we can’t

Giving up into self-assuaging is betraying those who need us

May we be true friends in all weather to all

Even now the fate of a fine furry friend is unknown

She is loved and missed and we may never know

I have seen death even today and know of its finality on this plane

Hope reigns for a while but reality often creeps in and sadness and doubt

These are just silly words, Actions are more powerful here

So off I go to peer

Ah she has returned. Most wonderful. But we shall never again see another girl.

Joy and Sorrow mix and mingle in the strange dance of life

May we all be relaxed and ready for death and transformation.

Moon Gathers Poison

Moon Gathers Poison

Draw out the toxin, suck the venom of enmity mind

Full Moon Shaman extracts demon poison through the wound tunnel

Tweezers gather the splinters of delusion

Tide winds wick the wicked from thy fleshy mind

Monks and nuns confess broken vows and restore them

Hovering o’er the green field in beauty and solitude is the bright one of the night

Heal us with gravity

Heal us with light

Heal us with magnetism

Heal us with wonder

Low realms of cruelty and hunger pervade our comfort abodes

This reminds us that we are protected by mere illusion

Wayward clans chase bliss and exclusivity

They venerate the familiar and the comfortable

They see the demonic where it is not

They imagine monsters and cluster in safety

Their caution looks silly from the clarity of afar

Venom is subtle and medicine is delicate

Phurba darts inject and withdraw in balance

Vajra tubes connect and uproot pain folly

Fullness and emptiness lose their distinctions

Wrath tames those difficult to tame

Fire destroys and vow takers chain themselves to fire

Most of us chain ourselves to delusion

Committed ones chain themselves to that which destroys delusion

Freedom from delusion allows one to see how to help the unfree

Otherwise it is difficult and variable

It seems there are always two wings balancing the bird of awakened mind

One does two things: clearing debris and aiding stragglers

Knowledge without reference

Kindness without preference

May endless streams of spontaneous love and presence flow throughout all possible

   realms and abodes.

Accused and Accursed

Accused and Accursed

In subtle ways the fray keeps away from wand’rers astray

In lament lands of death and stink do the yogin-tribes dwell

No sway and patience or word-whipping skills for ponderous preaching

To make magick mindfully is the momentary goal

We recognize energy when it appears and work it

The dark shadow dances eclipse the searching glances of flashlight seekers

Worshippers of form chase illusions, taking sport for religion

The believed and beloved are a function of their devotees

So too are the accused and accursed

Kind Love and Wisdom ever naked in their chamber hidden

Every karma is magick as it prunes a habit-path

The temple is formless, temenos unbound

All emotion is energy and recognition of power is a skill

To gather, store, and emanate chi is the method of flow

Stillness notices motion, flags and aspens in breezes and sun shimmer on water

Injustice churns the baffled exiles

But then comes the knowledge that fools rule the land-cage and rules fool the wand-sage

The ability to begin without accompaniment and accoutrement, to adapt to whatever

   occurs, to shift rhythms and moods and paradigms – these be skills of fire chakra mages

Manipura is the city of jewels, crackling and sparkling

Longing yet for spontaneous garlands of cohorts in cahoots

Compassion takes precedent over mere truth so books and laws just serve to bring out           

   the sour intentions of ego fashioners

There are exiles and mere venerators of exiles

There are shamans and despised shamans

There are siddha dwellers at the thresholds

Seeth mages aglow atop and amongst twilight horizons

Yogis poised and posed on the precipice of comfort and pain

Tantrikas on the cusps of transformation

On the edge adorned with the bones of the dead

Fire and Water makes love and rainbows

Days and nights appear, dwell, and fade

Fakes imagine their authenticity and adorn themselves in symbols and styles

Silly cliques and contentless conversations surely bore the gods

The outcaste risks losing patronage and respect dwelling in the murky distant  

   gypsy camp on the outskirts of acceptability

Even the so-called shining ones give out pills to reign in the restless defectors

The lonely and treacherous mountain haunts are the only real safe haven for we

   of the diamond sharp mind of care and tending

It is difficult and uncomfortable to evade ye but we do as we must as we are what we

   need to be, we adapt to the situations at hand

Whether trickster or harlequin, friend or enemy, fan or heckler

The satire-bard judges all and his words can heal or slay as time has told

Hatred is not my nature but my mate has a streak of strike frenzy

Fire is quick and bright and hot and transformational

Wisdom-fire destroys delusion in an instant

From ore to blade is the path within the fire bath

Plans and rehearsals fall away yet training and habit seal the day

We cultivate what we cultivate, We do what we do

Our dance of culmination is our dance of days

We accept our uneasiness but we wish for a place of hidden honor for the sake of folk

The wrathful devourers of feast-dregs chase no glory and garnish

Laughter and calm ferocity are enough

For the sake of all folk and especially folk unprotected

For a thousand feasts equal no way near one small beast