What is the true nature of our existence ?
Am I in my body or am I in my mind?
Why do we have this shortage of joy and wonder?
Why have we allowed our focus to become so myopic?
What are we waiting for
In a little time or in a lot
August 2000
A Midwinter's Poem
In weirdness you will find salvation
A Nice Little Poem
I like the niceness of each morning
Click here - unless they move it ...
More to come ...
Revelation Number Nine
{A poem popped into my head early this morning but I never wrote it all down ... oh well ... this is as much as I can piece together ... }
Along familiar lines people's thoughts do scurry
(That's not a very close approximation)
The question has a nagging persistence
Sometimes it has an overwhelming insistence
Why do we put up such a resistance?
What kind of answers can I expect to find ?
There must be an answer to all this confusion
Many people wonder about truth and illusion
Did we somehow somewhere make a terrible blunder ?
Confining our attention to matters terrestrial
We seem disconnected from the cosmic festival
Now we have experts on every conceivable topic
We know the exact composition of the stars above
But where are our experts on this thing we call love
We may discover our long lost plot
And learn to untangle our internal knot
To see what is truth and what is not
Normality consists largely of stagnation
Let your thoughts just dart around
Unexpected treasures are there to be found
Crackle crackle crackle crackle
Feel the energy and listen to the spackle
Stumble tumble humble pie
Watch the birdies in the sky
Twinkle sprinkle drink some juice
Watch your mind as it gets loose
A moment's hesitation is all it takes
Why live with your head full of snakes
A bowl of water and a silver spoon
Talk to the people on the moon
A moon filled with water
The spoon bends as well
A million people with one story to tell
Abstract an important with no time to lose
The moment arrives when everyone may choose
Insects feeding on the last known flower
They wait all day for this special hour
A wizard casts his dreamlike spell
Memories float in the mind's deep well
Individulas walk to their own appointments
Savage and gentle they purchase new ointments
Questions arise in the mist of their brains
How to keep the population in chains
In the midst of excitement they choke on confusion
Three wise men confirm the illusion
Speaking with tongues they deliver a message
Without hesitation comes the following passage
In the beginning there was just one thought
Invited by angels to play a new sport
The rules are so simple and must be forgotten
All players will dress in shirts made of cotton
The years slowly pass as the players choose their sides
Some opt for candy and long donkey rides
Suddenly the writer has run out of ideas
He sits at his desk and his eyes fill with tears.
And the niceness of my thoughts
I sit and watch all the nice people
Walking round in just their shorts
I like the niceness of my nice room
And all the nice paint in my hair
I am really in such a nice mood
You could kill me and I wouldn't really care
His presence simply could not be ignored
I found him dwelling inside every living thing
Upon this realisation my soul started to sing
They always manage to fret and worry
Never taking a moment to sit and wonder
And let those questions rise from down under
People live in the twelve dimensions of life
Balancing nicely like ants on a knife
Looking for sugar in the usual places
Suddenly the smiles reappear on their faces
The scientist argues with the priest and the poet
He declares his truth so that others may know it
Measuring his equations and the latest theory
His world seems so tiny without a kind fairy
People fill their heads with such stuff and nonsense
Rushing around blindly like rats behind a fence
The gate is unlocked but they rarely escape
Preferring to kill brain cells with the juice of a grape
Billions of souls sharing the same dream
Struggling to maintain their own self-esteem
The ice is quite thin but they skate anyway
By some great mystery tomorrow has become yesterday
In a green field where the flowers still sing
A stranger speaks of the wonders the future will bring
His audience listens with crystal clear attention
They accept his words with a moment's hesitation
In Japan where the Eskimos freeze
A man drops his bundle and starts to sneeze
This poem was constructed by his friendly elves
Who build their homes out of old wooden shelves
You walk toward me with your face covered in cream
I decide to laugh when I really should scream
I am the question of all your lifetimes
I have been down this road a number of times
In a world where your final morning is dawning
The birds build their nest under the awning
Listen to your mind and it will start yawning
Shouting and crouching inside a blue temple
Fragments of future poems
Can we believe that our lives have been changed
To be continued ...
Here is the news ...
There's nothing I can tell you
Poem in desperate need of a better title
Let the world spin on my finger
Just another day on the planet
Today i watched a bird in flight
I shed a tear for those who fight
Road to now here
I was on the road to enlightenment just the other day
They looked somewhat puzzled and asked for more details
I said that this reality is not solid at all
I told them our souls were unimaginably vast and immense
They both looked at me as I was quite insane
I smiled and I thanked them for all their attention
10-12-2000
A few more scraps of ideas ...
Untitled
People arrive at their own conclusions
People survive as best they know how
Why do we drive each other crazy
In the lives of ordinary people
In this moment of pure silence
Life is a long and circular dash
Experiences strung together
My doctor walks away from the blindness of worlds
The verbal arrangement of thoughts in your head
This statement is not so far from the truth
My little doctor used to wander away from his own lifetime
More ideas -
Why should it be
By twelve million seconds
Completely deranged
I am the federal passenger of my own lifetime
People always walk toward me
Their words have often really bored me
Follow me down into the world
Follow me down to the lives of the people
My doctor tries to pay me with dollars
His eyes focus on the satins on the collars
I was born inside the questionable lifetimes of Jesus
Speaking with tongues as we follow his sneezes
I was born into the visual nightmare of life
Souls living in confusion, agitation and strife
{Give me another lifetime and give me the human lifeness}
Whenever I start to feel a little unhappy
I remind myself that the human mind
Operates a lot like a playful young puppy
Train it and encourage it to settle itself
Or scold it and shout as you return to the shelf
I am a flock of cattle
Locked in this endless battle
I watch the grass greenly growing
In a state of pure and simple knowing
Most of my past lives have been spent on another planet
Where mountains are made out of jelly not granite
My doctor told me to buy some old bread
And balance it neatly right on my head
He told me that this would cure my condition
As long as I concentrated on each repetition
That you don't already know
There is no need to transform
To learn lessons or to grow
You're already there
You haven't a care
Enjoy
Let the songs of angels always linger
Let me fold reality and take it home
Let me live like a pigeon in Rome
Grateful fro the gift of sight
I sometimes lay awake at night
Wondering about the nature of light
Arguing about who's wrong or right
Then I come to this internet site
And puzzle over what I will write
When I spotted a skeptic and a scientist blocking my way
Hard at work on some strange notion called proof
I told them their current reality was just a spoof
I told them their minds had gone clean off the rails
By focusing solely on the realm of the five senses
They had built up some really quite marvelous defenses
With the right training you can walk through a wall
I said that our nature is actually quite fluffy
But we get mesmerised by a world that's grown stuffy
They scoffed and insisted on waiting for solid evidence
But how can we believe? It's beyond our comprehension
I asked them if dreams were clues to another dimension
And started examing the chemistry of my brain
Aha! they exclaimed. We have found the solution
This excess of dopamine is the cause of your delusion
And decided there were some things I ought not mention
I wished them well and continued on the path
As I walked away, I'm sure one of them laughed.
I laugh as I feel the distant rays of the sun
Knowing my sentimental journey has barely begun
I dance in puddles of muddy rain
As tiny cells start to collapse in my brain
January 2001 -
In this world of smoke and illusions
Can we find the true reality
Are we doomed to this normality
Inside a house or milking a cow
Throwing all the windows open
They breathe the fumes of toxic moments
With these thoughts so old and lazy
Going over the same old ground
As if some new treasure might be found
Far away from church and steeple
There comes a time for breaking free
From time and space and all we can see
There is contact with a higher presence
Beyond all thought or idea or word
This silence sadly is not often heard ...
When twelve of the many are spending their cash
Twelve disciples all sitting in a room
One of them decides to smash the broom
Like pearls on fine silk
Depending upon
The availability of fresh milk
Daster than usual as his pet plan unfurls
People panic when they glimpse their own lives
Balanced on the edge of a dozen sharp knives
Depend very much on what ideas you've been fed
Looking at this world of rotating and transient roles
You might think this plan is riddled with holes
Insects and possums live inside your roof
The entire web of life is intricately strung
Who knows what praises are yet to be sung ...
He told me his words hardly ever seem to rhyme ...
That we go on shifting our troubles
sifting our bubbles
making each other cry
Without ever knowing
Or blowing
Or hardly ever showing
I borrow ideas
From the people around me
Now that the moment can
envelop and surround me
I may be crazy or I may be sane
So many things are tough to explain
I play with words and also ideas
Along with all of my darkest fears
I build them a home
where they can feel free
To do what they really want
without asking me
