The Joy and Wonderment of Nothing at All

The Joy and Wonderment of Nothing at All

I am not one to wax sweet or fair on any of things but there are times when I am inclined to soft words as such
And at once asked to speak on the Joy and Wonderment of it all-it too befalls on Nothing at all; in all profundity
And I, in not being; seeing and feeling all that is swept through the I/Eye of my needle as I use this fabric...
Is Magic; the sheer impossibility of experiencing anything as Nothing beguiles me for I am but a transparency
Clearly defined by my own mind; albeit refined, it is nowhere to be found, it isn’t anything at all and I even less
One must employ the impress on the potentiality of Nothingness and be impressed by the sweetness of canvas
To be able to deploy and execute; create and release, as the product rides through thee, as thee, must give pause,
For us to applaud the experience in brevity of life and death, yes, it has come and is done in the same breath
And in that hairbreadth; to divine the complexity, depth, and fullness of taste and epiphany in exhaled release
So brief, yet it is all there and simultaneously it has never really happened and so it seems; less than a dream
Yet, I can peer into Eternity and have lived forever and experienced everything over and over again; many ways
And I choose this exquisite simplicity and effortless ease so that I can feel it all pass through my tender release
And sigh a life passes me by. I hear people say “How could you sleep during the day?” Nothing Ever Happens!
What then is there to miss in it? What new is there to see in the Academy of Things? Have you done something-
Have I missed something? If I could share the benign peace and unlimited joy of not...I would....Alas
There is Nothing to share...so here...can you feel the fullness in this emptiness; taste its vacant nectar?
Nothing to hold, save; the passing clarity; are you soft to bare the weight of it or do you carry the self along?
The caged human bird is dead to song carrying that embroidered basket (the head) all the day long
Are we not the mind? No we are not
Are we not the body? No we are not
Are we not the spirit? No we are not
Are we not the soul? No we are not
Are we.........? No we are.....Not a thing at all for we are Nothing at all; a potential bridge to the manifest and yet
Not at all. Knowing this allows me to rest in peace, for the rest of the pieces fit right into place; to know this
That I don’t exist and I am creating my experience; buying into programs/games and cashing out betwixt frames
Reading the codes of the Mainframe; it’s all the same; Macrocosm/Microcosm. Awareness is joy but, I know
That I am its toy! And the Wonderment is how did it do all of this from a single kiss; one movement...
An Infinite Breath and to still feel it moving through me and around me is simply splendid; albeit illusion
Rendered still; the movement amazes me, the stillness envelopes me; and then the sheer screen; my movie plays
On and on, anon; the joy of being a player in this, choosing character and set and all that I, as Director, beget
And oh what wonder and surprise as I await the next ride that I hide from myself so as to be in awe of it all
I have nothing short of glee to be here even though my demeanor may be interpreted as other wise to it all
The boy inside does ride the coaster of life; playing the game from inside and watches through the eyes
Of the machine that I have re-designed to explore this Universal mechanism; the ins and outs of it as I release it
To the illusion that it is; what then is anything but a dream or fantasy of what we want to have or be?
And so then is the desire that is put there like an instinctual draw of hunger to feed on what we think we need
Glory be to all of it in heed; do not all things call us to our inevitable death and undeniable depth?
Yet, if we acquiesce this death/depth we move beyond these patterns set in motion by so curious an awareness
Of what could be; did it not take into account the little things that may want to survive a longer time?
Or the glitch in the system that always has vision beyond; that creates another song or desire to destroy
Its Maker; I may just like this way too much and not that it is even necessary; for I move beyond the very
Essence; through the deepest pit of it, then beyond it and release my arrow through it; as I an purged from it
What joy and I wonder if it knows on some level what I have done in the death of the one to revisit....none?

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....

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”