Nothing Happened

Nothing Happened.....

Are you so committed to this that you can’t feel the emptiness of it; do you keep going so you don’t hear
The Silence? I agree the Nothing in everything is frightening or to realize that Nothing is really happening
Or that you are dreaming; constantly scheming for the next misadventure in ever ever land? Should I remain....
Silent, so as not to awaken you to the inevitable truth that none of this is true and that neither are you; ya feel it?
That feeling in the pit of your stomach as you approach the end of your reality where the artist runs out of paint?
The awareness of this, is the gift, so as not to get caught in it, for it is all Nothingness; reality is the trick
I will break it down and explain it. From the beginning to the end of it; it is gone and we think we are living it
It was a moment...less than a millionth of a second when all of this happened and was done even quicker
The “Big Bang” wasn’t anything more than a flicker gone before it started; it was like The Nothing farted
In an instant it became aware yet what had happened was no longer there; this is what we are experiencing here
Like the stars is the sky that are no longer there; the lapse of time is just that; something that sits there that isn’t
Like a ghost, no longer with a host, remaining at their remembered posts; prisoners of war that is no more
This is what I mean when I say that I am an echo, who I am, what I say, comes and goes, I am not really here
As you read, the words on the page disappear and are parlayed into an obscure bank of memories...deposited
And withdrawn, after long; with what do you hold on? After I’m gone, and I am, just like the beginning
With the immediate end, like I’ve said before all light burns out...time is irrelevant, so too may be existence
Other than the importance that we give to it; I’ve been on Earth thousands of years, seemingly 13.7 billion, here
If we speak of the theoretical beginning, and we are still reacting; while other galaxies come crashing together
As if never there and here we barely escape catastrophe daily, well some of us, we can die as easily as a fly
In our lack of awareness we kill billions of things a day; destroy millions of little universes on our merry way
In a twinkling of an eye bye bye no matter how long they were seemingly here before long all is dead and gone
I am not here to paint a morbid picture but, just to show you that there is Nothing There; it is an illusion going
Like smoke blowing in the wind; seemingly here, then gone again; if Nothing Stays then that is the thing
To become; that is to say that not a thing stays and that it is the Nothing that remains, no matter what
Wouldn’t it make sense to become that; it is what you hold on to that kills you; let it all go its way
This is not something to believe, it’s a way to release all you are beholden to by being responsible for you
And in all that you do; by letting go of what is important you can choose what is important to you
The world doesn’t decide, you decide; freedom is a perpetual experience, but, you have to choose it
Awareness is a clever ventriloquist savoring every moment of this delightful infinite mix; it’s less than a second
Yet, the echo stretched itself out on awareness’s clout played out in this reoccurring dream we are in
You may ask why I reveal these things when you may be seemingly happy the way you are living?
I think you should know that Nothing is happening so that you stop reacting to everything; perpetuating echoes
I remember in times of Olde, when we were being told of Magic and the Dragons said “Don’t flinch or you’ve
Had it” and every once in a while they’d turn their heads to burn us; and those who didn’t react stayed in tact
Those types of lessons keep you on track and now humans just bump their heads front and back. I tell you this
So that you can make clear choices in what you are doing and not doing; and not fooled by your surroundings.
It is the “Stillness” that the Nothing went back to immediately; undistracted by the 10, 000 things
And it hasn’t moved yet, but it is still expanding; a never changing paradox that never stops moving
From the same spot. If I am something and I realize that my source is Nothing and I draw my power from that
And I move from where it is at, then I am Eternal with the realization that this is all internal emerging
Then I am Everything and Nothing outside of the game I am playing from Inside/Insight-Out
This is what its all about; The Nothing is the playing field of infinite yield; with clear Intent, Destiny is sealed
So when they ask say, “Not a thing has ever really happened and it is the Nothing itself that happened”

Am Not.....

Am Not.....

In order to become who I am not I had to let go of who I am. Others would say “Who I was is not who I am”
You see, I am not, I see clearly that I don’t exist and I am not fooled by it; the Paradox is I exist in
Sublime Emptiness. You may ask how do I survive as a human, sleep, eat; what I’m writing? I’m projecting
I am none of anything; I am the abstract dreaming, yet, wait, the miracle is the blank slate and what’s great
Is that it is the perfect representation of me; absence being experientially, I am the non-self expressing
Of essence I am not anything; as I peer into me I see Nothing billowing like a large cloak or dark mist
And clearly, to me, I am this Darkness, yet funny enough my light blinded me from this in a colossal misdirect
I listened to what they were saying and repeated the same; spreading the “Word” like butter over everything
Everything was sweet, light, and nice...and I was completely blind and saw only what they were painting
But, that wasn’t enough for me, I needed to see what was really happening and what I needed to be doing
Beyond the searching was a beckoning and I broke it all down to Nothing even myself; the illusion emanating
If you take a computer apart it really isn’t anything unless you tell it that it is. We have been convinced
Of Everything and we go by what we’ve been told to believe and some without question, to some this is faith
To me not to question all reality is absurdity; perpetuating inane belief simply wrecks human opportunity.
This is what I offer you in an empty hand; possibility, to take this blank slate, this potential field, and create
It is all right there, it literally comes out of nowhere and not from some guy up in the clouds somewhere
Theses pseudo-existential projections are faulty at best when you look at the universe within and in which we sit
Outside and in is Nothingness; empty space, I ask, how are we not this, when it is this there is so much of?
Like water our bodies are mostly this; we are bodies of water. Then there is the depth, let us not forget
Of the ocean and inner and outer space; there is Nothing all over the place, there is such power in empty space
So when I say I have Nothing to say...listen; release yourself from the confines of your mind and realize
What I am saying; I am Nothing relaying a message to you, the you that you think that you are is not you
You are not what you’ve put yourself through or allowed yourself to; think about what has been told to you
And by who; when I erased all that I’ve been told I had Nothing to hold and after you cross the bridge
I’ll release it too, for Nothing is not something to hold onto. I am not a hero I’ve just been beyond point zero
And I found “The Way”...out, by going deep within and finding Nothing and I realized that it was me (you)
The essence you see...of everything; if I am Nothing I can choose to be anything at all or Nothing at all
I didn’t see this before plagued with the entrails of reality even though I knew that it was created by me
It was still a trap because I kept creating the same thing; like an echo running on an endless scratched record
I am the blank slate on which I create; I am the emptiness waiting to be filled by me and I am overflowing
With this as a philosophy I can take responsibility and become me; whatever whenever I want to be
Wit no restrictions or limitations...folks this may be freedom and I’m liking it here; the air is so clear
And so too am I; finally the effortless ease of a different Eternity flavored with my own brand of Destiny
I still am not and I understand that that is hard to fathom; beyond the definition of self exists, Articulation
Of what I choose to experience as I become it; beyond the restrictions of mundane prescribed perceptions
Some think it is futile to deal with Nothing because it doesn’t exist and they get so wrapped up in existence
Then others, consciousness, then higher self, higher good, light, vibration, ascension; up up and away, it’s great
It is definitely a “Way” but, I don’t want to be Away; distracted by what seems to be happening, and going on
The Philosophy of Nothing is about letting go of everything; detaching, then deciding; it’s an awareness
Of the created maze and daze that we’ve been in since the beginning it’s dazzling; quite fantastic
In its entrapment; I had to let go of me to set myself free and it took me graciously; and I am not, yet,
I created Hanakia Ek~Way Zedek to greet and beat it; I figured freedom is a gift why not share it so here it is
And it is really all I’ve got to give so here he is...my single and clearest shot through the eye/I.........am not!

Mirror Mirror.....

Mirror Mirror.......

My mirror doesn’t work anymore....my image just walked away; it said something to the effect that
I no longer serve it well....I’m running out of ways to see myself in the process of “letting go” of everything
I speak and there are blank stares everywhere, so as to say, “What the hell are you talking about, anyway?”
Can one possibly make sense if not speaking within the ratio of the status quo? Even with those that I know
They ask “Well what are you going to do now when you’ve given everyone a free hall pass?” No rules
No restrictions, no laws, no convictions; they ask “How’ll you get anyone to follow you; what of community?”
And these are truly valid questions but, the only direction that I can lead someone/anyone is within
If there is community it will grow on its own if its course is left alone; the path to glory, in this, is effortlessness
As I pass from plain sight, in the dead of night I see the familiar essence of primal effect and disappear into it;
The depth, the power of it, where my image can’t exist; I am so drawn to this Darkness, it is never amiss
And I watch light workers plaguing existence with the flagrant schematics of a hollow joy
And religious fanatics preaching prophesized propaganda ploys in a constant flurry to a projected end
That never comes and I have come undone; removed as I have myself from all things of Old and New age
I don’t have a reason, yet, it stands to reason that in a time of shift that I should take advantage of it
It is as if the paradigm is a gift given to me to set others free, so then, I too, must be gone, it is but a mask that
I have on, for this task; to simply let the journeyers pass and see the sign on the road home, pointing at them
I am but an absent thing with an inscription....”Within”; a silence whispering not a sacred sound Om but home
And you like a lotus flower rising up through the muck of self can choose the empty shelf of blank books
Tell me what makes a flower beautiful, isn’t it you and aside from that isn’t it just functional, do tell?
How are you painting this world, are your strokes of true color or fabricated from hand me down acrylics?
What have you been told to make of it? As I am simultaneously pulled away from it; beckoned to a depth
Beyond the looking glass where I saw my image last, before it passed; now do I step through the glass
Or smash it at last? I have known this Rabbit Hole; it has been a good friend with no foreseeable end
And every time I emerge from it there is less of me and more of it surfaced to tell the tale with Nothing to hear
When there is less of you there is clarity and ease and you realize that you are not what you hold onto
You are not your memories of what you do; you are the twinkle in your eye as you watch a dragon-fly
Either; one from the waters with iridescent wings and eyes or one that slides through the veil from the other side
You are the space between the words; the silence that is seldom heard; the joy in the smile in a child’s eyes
Because what you say and do is not you; you are the before, middle, and after you are through; you elude you
You are not what is keeping you alive no more than you are your clothes; you are the part that listens and knows
Understanding the message in the wind as it blows determining the direction that it goes; do you remember?
You are the abstract space all over the place using the body as a house and space ship and the mind to get a grip
Yet, you must release it, to get it; what a trip! This is! I can’t tell you that there is Nothing in the mirror
Because your eyes tell you that there is, but, what about in Absolute Darkness in inner and outer space
Without your stuff all over the place; does your mind have a reflective surface; your soul or spirit; see it?
The air you breathe; yet it is to form that you cleave saying look at me; I am this, I am that
When you are mostly abstract and that is a fact; you aren’t even really there and it is this that you fear
Mirror mirror on the wall what will happen when you fall and shatter the illusion of this all?
The matter is that to effectively grow the plant; you should know the soil and that it is not more than it is;
It is Nothingness, then you set the Intent and the event, you, emerge through the illusions of you
Plant in an empty field, clear it out completely, nurture with silence and stillness, and with benign patience;
Water it. You may ask what is the advantage of being unseen and maintaining an empty field? What it yields
Fully self actualized human beings; a rare sight for sore eyes, for they exist beyond the lies of mankind
I have long since looked for myself in the mirror; neither one of us show up any more; Nothing to see
So I set them face to face mirror to mirror for a chance to glance Infinity as humans awaken to their Destiny

After Thought......

After Thought....

Huh, now they have me thinking about the timing and everything; filling my head with all sorts of things
She said “What if you’re the event?” and immediately my mind was bent; factoring in all that has happened
And if I were to meet this horizon; Nothing would pass through it and that’s all that would; I am a Black Hole
It is my inclination to tear it all apart because it was never whole from the start, but, it does make one wonder
I’ve never bought into prophesy yet this Mayan name was given to me one day Ek~Way: Black Transformer
I can see the door; do I dare set the gears in motion? I’ve been giving out the keys for free all along; the notion
Huh, 2012 always did ring a bell, but, for whom does it toll, without a doubt, heads will definitely roll
Yet, I never buy into any of it, but, what if I did what they said and flipped it, well, if you are reading this...
There it is, by the time you finish this you will know but, you won’t stop reading will you, even if I asked you?
Then must I do what I am set to do? I can’t help myself; I’m set in motion by Inclination and Destiny
And what that clever woman said to me. It is funny; the mother ship landing, the second coming
They are always running and picking a colossal time and Nothing ever happens. Yet this time,
When Nothing happens it will release the trappings of Mankind’s “Story Time” and all the lies told
To manipulate an entire civilization, every nation, and even erasing some, in a course to become “One”
And still this is done in the attempts to create one overall belief like “Democracy” when it is all hypocrisy
Granted we are all connected yet, the individual selects the path as do all 10,000 things in this giant machine
Sitting in Nothing. The answer is not pulling it all together and forcing yet another issue; you do you....
Letting people bask in the reality of their own individuality and letting nature take its course and not discourse
Unless, of course, if your course, like mine, is against the grade; the path that these projected stories have made
I want in on the changing; taking the power away from these childish things and their rulings over us
And on the other hand my ego wants to ride right up against it and take out the very thing that created it
Hmmm, 2012, that is about the time that I will rise and people will realize the lies they’ve been told
Sold as truth, thousands of years old, yet, they still have their hold...on....but not for long; furlong to an end
I am not here to prove that religion isn’t real, trust what you feel, that still doesn’t make it real or true
Truth is a collective or personal agreement, it doesn’t exist; that’s the twist, we’ve been taught to believe it
So, I will say these things that shake the foundation, whole, and become the very hole that they fall through
I will point and disjoint the falsified connections thus releasing all of us...and those that want to stay;
May have their way but, we will no longer be governed by it; the rest will learn to be what they want to be
And do what they want to do to improve and use their innate skills or do nothing if they will
Philosophy at times is assembled to disassemble a construct; to point a finger at a crack that serves as lack
Here, it is not an idea or path to follow or even a way of life; it is a release valve, yet, you are the power
For once released you find that there was Nothing there all the time; tell me, what was your attention worth?
From the moment of birth you were told to look here and there with instructions to follow everywhere
And where have they leaded you? “Nowhere”, now that’s not a bad thing if you simply stop searching
And listen for what is emerging; you springing forth from you own core; distracted no more, there’s the door
Can you do it and not look back any more? Or does the nostalgia got cha? Or maybe you weren’t meant...
To be free and you are happy with your captivity; I look through the eyes of humanity and what do I see?
A program running haphazardly; a scratched record on a broken phonograph that can’t possibly last
Yet, we hold on, beyond all logic and reason giving delusions of faith a long undeserved season
This is what I’ll do; I’ll replant you; there is Nothing in this soil, yet, it is the fullest potential; event full
You choose how and what you grow into, and this time, Nothing will be guiding you; the plans are within you
Now go, and grow and I will see to it that no weeds get through to you to misguide you again; now, listen....

Articulating Nothing

Articulating Nothing

In this quietus place I wait beyond life and death and acquiesce the deafening Silence of Nothingness
Would temptation bear me the least bit or even a drop of it; I would run to the empty promise of it
Yearning for that which I can never get and yet I wait baited like an unanswered line; phone or fish
I’d wish, were I not schooled in the foolishness of something so unrequited, cryptic; undecipherable
Yet it is Nothing that I know, albeit it is that, which it gives, and I craft this abstract barren gift
As I Articulate it, yet, wait, is it not doing this, are we so wise as to think that we are above it?
Am I so sure that every single thing is not being expressed by it; that which isn’t?
Well, I can speak for only me, blinded by a single sublime clarity, to see, Nothing, moving, me
As if someone finally listened to it; the silence of it, and became the stillness of it
And on the verge of awareness I see that none of this matters; so far from the primal thread
I can throw all of this assumed waste away and still be embedded in the thick of Nothingness
I could drop it all and be better off, yet, who has ears for what isn’t there; who would lend it here?
If I have Noting to say I then will be sent away, yet, in my silence all is said; volumes to be read
Did you think I would not find my way home all alone; without a star to be shown?
Did you think that you could make these vast anthologies of mental masturbatory material?
And I’d think it was real...think again; your books of then were movie screens, on which you were projecting
And we; your Story Book Children, listening to the dreams of hot flashed insane old men
And here we are thousands of years later fighting over the same old sand; here I’ll say it...”It’s all a Sham”
It’s all a crock and a pretty damn expensive sandbox; you are lucky for now that you can hold nature at bay
For all that is unnecessary will soon be washed away so too the games of war that you play
So I watch and wait for the timing and the chance to articulate something so simple and clear; that it will clear
The playing field of archaic predisposed contingencies and the world can finally be free from them
In the depth of understanding that this is about Nothing at all; there then is no consorted beginning or end
Finding reason is the death to all things, in the dissecting, you separate out the innate inherent joining
This is the space in between that holds everything together because there was Nothing there ever to begin with
This is the point; the miracle if you will, is that there wasn’t anything there to create any of this; that’s a myth
And from the deepest understanding; absolutely ridiculous to pass over the strings of power to those who take it
So I say that you don’t have to believe to receive; we are inherently designed to acquire all that we need
That is the power of a mustard seed “Within” exists all that it needs there is no prayer to gods or even heed!
We feed on the bounty of the Universe Within and create and manifest out of Nothing; it has always been
Stop diverting your attention to other things in hope that they will bring you something; you’re the thing!
On a Macrocosmic level it can be viewed as one thing on a microcosmic level, many, yet, it all sits in
And is made up of Nothing; if you spend your time worshiping or blaming anything you miss the point
And the point is....there isn’t any, so you are free; having a reason is a mechanism of slavery
So too with purpose and cause; this creates a myriad of inane and useless laws about things with no meaning
What I am saying in Articulating Nothing is that you have been trained to give power and allegiance over
To people, places, things, situations and circumstances that have no power or meaningful origin;
Plagued with misconstrued ideas of life death and sin and a false life you are living
Contemplate Nothing and let go of everything; embrace the primal teachings of silence, stillness and emptiness
And approach peace; at least for a moment so that you can remember the feeling of it, if you don’t choose it
And I will wait here and life after life you will have a brief memory of this quintessential moment and meeting
On the street somewhere under a dimly lit sign that reads “Nowhere” I’ll be here

The Power of Silence

The Power of Silence

The inexplicable connection when you split an atom and no matter where you put the seemingly separate parts
That are never apart; that communication isn’t God or Science...it is Silence and we are the interruption thereof
The things that I speak of and teach of; if I were to give them personification, they would lose their true flavor
An example is that I have a deep and abiding connection to all things of Myth and Legend but not as reason!
For what we deeply experience isn’t someone or thing, it is The Silence in/of Nothing...like the Tao/Zen
The awareness on some level of it moving, and us, like a violin string; being played by it; the absence in/of it
And hearing the non-existent whisper inside of it; listening to it and inevitably becoming it; this Is Power
You then are as still as the metered tempo of a virtuoso; unknown at the time of sublime consistent execution
And easily you could turn to me and say brilliant, clever, and wise yet, it is through its eyes that I see
Yet it is not a person, place, or thing, it isn’t anything; it is the space in-between and around everything
And it is to that which we are to listen. We are trained to sound and distractions abound blinded by, all, around!
Yet the message is in the Silence. On some level the water buffalo knows that there is an alligator waiting
In the watering hole, does it stay or does it go, does it listen to what it knows; what of the mouse and the snake?
Good things come to those who wait; this is why death has a gate and it sits at wait to see what choice you make
In Silence you escape because it is the one thing that Death can not take or hear because it is already there
There is nothing to listen for, no fear or anything anywhere; as long as you are still, Death has no will
I am not saying to avoid it, just that there is no power in variance to it because it is silent
Like the depth of the ocean or vacuum of space; there is power all over the place in the absence
In these extremes is where the dream of reality exists; something is spawn from the pressure of it
Humans venture in there minds and fear the primal sublime running away from Darkness all of the time
Perpetuating all sorts of chatter attempting to shatter the inevitable silence in the end; filling the spaces in
One of the greatest lies is to say that Silence is the absence of sound; when Silence is prime; there all the time
You have to make a sound; Silence is and is not found. Look to the simplicity of it, the presence of it
The depth and feel of it and how we run from it ever so often in finding that which to fill it
Yet, what we fail to see is the omnipresence of it; the vastness of it, beyond space and time; consistence sublime
No matter what you say or do my silence can/will always pierce through you, through my eyes, words; touch
Saying Nothing, yet, saying so much, do you really think that your thoughts mean anything to a Silence
So blindingly still, without though, deed, or will; the universe sits in this...still....moving; what a paradox
Silence was/is my mother and as I was born from her womb I shall return to her tomb; this is why you fear
Because she is always here...waiting for you to shut the f__k up so that she can refill her cup with your absence
Wicked truth so far removed into your annals of cultural fears; always what is waiting for you out/in there
But guess what, if you become it, you no longer have to fear it; at variance always filling space creating waste
Just stop, let go, and here is something that you may not know; Death shows to snatch/match what you hold
This is why you get feeble and old because as you hold onto life; Death is on the other side to provide the pull
Yet, if you live life to the fullest, releasing all the mess, you are its welcome guest throughout existence
You must understand the permanence of Silence, the depth of Absence, everything else is just distraction
All that you’ve been told is filler of a depth untold, for there is Nothing to say, yet, if you stay, you are Eternal
This is the trick we have been told it is in the substance, the oneness, the wholeness, yet, it’s the emptiness
For it is this that holds all of it; this is what we miss and we trip out on existence saying someone did this
I find it thrilling, that I am something like a tree with an innate Silence in and about me. That I am this
Abstract thing seemingly moving in a dream of some sorts and to realize that what is dreaming, doesn’t exist
It is just simply dreaming about existence and if we are Silent we won’t wake it up; we can still run amuck
The greatest questions it seems are: What if Nothing wakes up from the dream? Or simply just stops dreaming?

I can feel it.....

I can feel it....ya know...the shift...I am on the crest of it
For thousands of years I have waited for this
Even more so than the return of Magic
I wanted to be here for the fall
The inevitable wasting away of this age
Held together by the bittersweet sorrows of politically placed rage
Enhanced cultural suffering juxtaposed upon a worldwide democratic race
Hollowed ideals misplaced
And even setting all of this aside, there is a power glide
As religion and spirituality loose their stride and subside
People are looking inside
Nature is inevitable; it will always rise
And the greatest thing is that I can say “I did Nothing”
And a few will know what I am saying
I helped clear the path...alas, then; I am useless once it is tread
What is a teacher other than someone you meet on the road?
What is a Master other than someone who is left after.....?
This is why we grow Olde for we have Nothing to hold
For we have whittled away at ourselves till there is Nothing left to......
No eyes for we become blind to unnecessary things
No feet for the people we meet are everywhere; our soles/souls then are torn
And we worn out...cold and alone....left to make simplicity our home
Yet, don’t be fooled by my tone this is the flavor of destiny found
For all that we have done before, we are no longer bound
We mock feeble and old for we cannot be bought or sold
We are not a threat, for no one listens to what an Olde man/woman says
Save the few that knew before the shift in the age that they once knew
The ones that heard the call and answered before the fall
Huh, I speak as if it has already happened, like so many times before
And you will listen or simply ignore; here are the keys as I stand at the door
Listen, from deep within to the voice you are ignoring; the whisper
What you hold onto has nothing to do with you
Let go of all that you think that you know; it’s all for show
For the tides are changing fast and furious and will change all of this
Acquiesce the magic that is rising from within you, in the being and doing; what is true for you
And always in all ways “to thine own self be true” for “The Way” from within, is shown to you
Now, I again will cross to the Promised Land; free of choice, with Nothing in hand
To a time and place that has always been, before the lies of original sin, it is/was called “Within”