Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Deviotional Poetry of the New-style


Today was given a vision of the archetypal Tiger.
I spent two years at two different high schools and both flew
the black-and-white flag of the Tigers. The morning of my birth arose
in the Chinese Year of the Tiger. That was exactly two zodiac cycles ago;

now on this eve of a New Cancer Moon, Tigers flash into focus
on the blackboard of my forehead, a Tiger struts past, looking left to flash
His awesome jaws, just to show me how His startling stripes create impossibly
stark contrast against His bone-white Tiger teeth.

This animal in my mind, how may I tame him?
True my Tiger is tranquil now but don’t be mesmerized:
He will lull you to sleep and eat you.

Such self-consumption certainly sounds unpleasant: destruction from within,
mauled and digested, left for dead, a fresh carcass to feed the lucky scavenger,
and by what? What force of will outside my own instigates this graphic tragedy?

“None. Free will alone accounts for how experience unfolds,” Tiger whispers.
Now: I hereby choose to alter course in that finest moment of choice, moving to embrace the beautiful fiend who pursues me, feel him purr, make him family.


Your Name

As soon as you gave it, it was gone and all that remains
in my mind is your eyes and in my heart is your glorious aura; aching,
our colors seem made to match exactly, which is maybe why
I need no measure of time to be sufficiently inspired to invite
You into my life right now, or forever.


Broken Story of a Voice

…and s/he spoke of immaculate conception,
redefining the term ‘conception’ through its root: concept,
or thought, thinking, I imagined, that were our
intentions made immaculate, we might find new life in the Christ,
be reborn for a loving Virgin Mother, the Divine Feminine
energy finding harmony with the Father’s strength and mercy,
His fierce pursuit of Truth tempered by Her patient Grace, so pure…

…but that this serpent lay at the base of the tree of knowledge, spiraling up to look Eve in the Eye - speaks of our spine, and the divine, spinning energy centers snaking up our trunk…

…and how the Star of David explains these principles perfectly, even more so when you include the swastika in the center, to represent the eternal cycles operating within the perfect balance of Wisdom, which allows the many to know themselves as One, and Compassion, bestowing Heaven on Earth, abundance, ‘as above, so below’…

…but to be no longer ruled by psychopathic patriarchs, not to be led by empty humanoid vessels bent on spreading Fear, clones with zero sense of compassion or consciousness other than getting their jollies off seeing the perceived plebeians suffer; how still we must trust in the ultimate efficacy of karmic Justice, knowing our only role is to continue offering forgiveness, for truly, they know not what they do…

…and those forces we might label Evil are in fact catalysts, crucial characters in the 3-D drama of Our awakening. They are the ready manifestations of the deepest, darkest unacknowledged aspects of our collective Self. We require their instructive influence at this time...

…but nightmares are so exciting! A fresh opportunity to turn and confront the demon pursuing you. And if you do, lovingly acknowledge this former source of Fear, do you realize how much celestial Love explodes out of that interaction? The Law of One states (Ra, Book 4, Session #83)…

“… that by far the most vivid and even extravagant opportunities for the piercing of the veil are a result of the interaction between polarized entities…”

…and this is why, as we continue toppling toward a tipping point of positive intention, our collective closet is being emptied of skeletal shadows, and the Powers-that-Be are becoming the Powers-that-Were but first they are going to throw everything they have at us. Like children. There is nothing hidden…

…but don’t misinterpret the Word. Apocalypse only means ‘revealing’ - granted, on the grandest scale. So say goodbye to your ghosts, and get ready to focus on divinely aligned co-creation, inviting the Light of the Father to help us honor the body of our Earth Mother, with us standing in-between as equals…

…and from where I sat s/he showed me a blue diamond planet, no longer
reflecting the light of its local star but giving out a supernal glow of its own,
illuminating its neighborhood in space, a supreme paradise, built by and for
its Light-bodied occupants…

…and in this way I was made to Awaken, newborn, to bear witness
to this Self-created state of affairs, where when I walk
the Path spontaneously arises underfoot, and if I stumble
over a stone or clandestine ditch I know Just who to talk to…

Monday, August 2, 2010

Early Poems of the New-Style

Primarily for the benefit of my Mother. These can also be found as Notes on my Facebook page.


Pimples are appearing like spinal notches
down the front of my body. It started
on my forehead. "Funny," I thought
"that is where my Third Eye would be."

Next it was my nose, like Rudolph on the peak
of Everest, standing on his tippy-toes, reaching
up just one more desperate little milimeter,
simply because he was born to light up the night.

My lip is split. A dehydrated slice sits precisely
in the center of the quasi-symmetric curls of flesh
which represent my bottom lip. Flesh most vicious
every morning when it had almost healed.

Shaving today for the first time in too long,
I nicked the newest one. It began to bleed,
red as that original apple for which this lump,
forever caught in my throat, was named.

I suspect my chest must come next.
Welcome! My heart is wide open.
Further down I'll omit for now, seeing how
that's just nothing for public consumption.

One day I will lay naked.
Nothing I can do then.
As it is, was and will be.
I am clothed for now in flesh by highest consent.


Rant 7 June 2010

How often do we exercise the true mythic form of Freedom?
Must we be so ever fervent, this incessantly faithful to the easy lure of party lines,
assuming some expected trust, obviously now already unearned
based upon the endless litany of false-flag attacks and desperate subversion tactics
to which the population at large has been subjected, agreed to, once upon time,
while demonstrating how scary forced evacuation in the Southlands is or will be,
and how interminable internment camps become, and quickly.

Somehow I never remember offering any sort of submission,
be it to a law well-known to be innately unnatural, nor
to assist in the completion of bureaucratic quota sheets
which support a system designed to promote clones destined
to achieve that status so often sought though only ever offered
to Officials who are (who?) willing to haul all such stinky bait with them
when they go, and go they will, to become lost on assignment,
stumbling blind and deep into the darkness where all incarnate
fish swim and feed, learn to fight, sleep and wake up in time to die.
Like true legends. So who then next will bite said tempting hook?

Okay what, so try Freaking Out today just to see what happens, and then or
ask those folks just home from detainment in G-20 Toronto, not forgotten, if it was fun,
or not.


An Imagined Apprenticeship

For tutor I choose sea turtle (not Nemo)
so as to learn to surf star-gate currents
zooming just under the surface
of Earth's oceans, those veins of the Divine
floating close to Light-speed, even past it,
no matter.

I'd spend my nights writing (like now)
propping my spine upon the chiropractically-magical
curve of his or her tremendous shell:
the type of exo-skeleton which one day might
sit atop the skull of Earth's one true beholder,
becoming the new crown of Atlas.

Watching whorls of star-coral unfold
amid triple-helix spirals busy
sprouting bouquets above below
around and within us, we slide
across the uncreated floors and shelves
of the cosmic undersea scaffolding.

Having turned through an obscurely curving corridor,
fraught with lost fish lingering in caves
laden with temptation, we emerge from that
shadowy canyon and plunge past the precipice,
flying like cartoon Coyote, only we know not
to look down or allow doubt.

This is how we stay weightless.
Trust us, it's safer that way.


The Earth Will Not Explode (Giving Birth)

And there: did you sense that subtle boom?
that muffled rush of stardust, a newborn unformed,
contemplating which shape to take?
Awake within the womb, so warm, and then what?

Lava playfully pushed into this ocean of existence to see how plain
dark and freezing it is, so full of resistance, and insistence
on confusion and fear it is at these heavy depths; so hot we streak
toward the surface in as direct a path as possible,

-- though some aberration is expected,
and, naturally, patches of atoms will tend East or West --
seeking to explore those sacred spaces,
places less dense and more rife with light,

impelled up by not-knowing-any-better,
yet all the same, always weighed down by a pervasive blur,
this fresh molten starflesh, formerly amorphous, stiffens and stops,
still not shallow enough and now growing slowly dead

of separation, having ventured too distant from our core source,
but clearly not yet near enough our local star,
and so caught in-between becomes this infinite range of
statuesque spires, seeming almost moldy through the gloom

though this deep down we know what brittle fossils we've become,
inevitably destined to erode when the oceans overflow
then drain, there abandoning all evidence of man's random art
to wither in the heart of the wind, under the breath of death's sun,

with plans to be reborn inside the final sunrise
witnessed by our shrouded eyes on the blessed being Earth.
Tired of being blind inside a storm of time distortion,
we temporarily chose to be toads so we could watch the earth explode

into life! Finally! enough groundswell has gathered
and our galactic island triad is all set to surface
into the sea of Spirit, a crystal child born warm,
blinking open in the Dawn of crazy new age fame.

Terra, is her name.


PS Hey Mom, cut my hair today. Here look: