Traveling, Mists Come

A motion is felt, the move of land
is a world now alive to misty being.
Passing is perceived, empty the way
A man is thrown to lurching illusion
his genius is there, but rarely seen.
As he wins or loses, it matters not.

It's recognizing possibility of intent
and its relationship to his intention
the unseen mystery of his interior
illuminated by self-remembering
and liberated by higher measure
his genius is the principle act for.

Turning great diversity into consort
revealing the genuine man within
a compendium within outer chaos
emptiness that moves the cosmos
and all at once still void, paradox.
The Tao symbolizes this in elegance.

Like a drum, the eagle percusses
shocking the stream into waves
rising, with silent bleats, in wind.
The word is a prism of us in one
whose genius reverbs in an Om
a sound with shine of the aplomb.

A mind may dream such insight
in wordless act, indescribable
for seeing, preeminent, eternal
as much the fish as water when
swimming is for the fallen spirit
and man, one wayward station.

Sounds of my carriage circulate
in ears to points of material map
my golden steed's heedless step
met-a-for_mer whinny in a neigh
longing for wildest love to prevail
for a tour that travels everywhere.

And yet, a call beyond destiny
boggles travel, as mists come
just entering a gate, fey inclines
one must be open in this way
before the way opens to one.
Look inward unto inner find...

A Mood Uplifter

Yesterday I found myself sending the following graphics to Stephanie, with the exception of the one of her in her wedding dress. But each one represents one of the fundamental centers of being in the Fourth Way. Having created this range in such a way between her and I, while it wasn't something I was consciously thinking about today, has certainly been on my mind at times in the past and suddenly today I find quite a remarkable snap of intent to see it through...

The centers of function here are moving, emotional, intellectual, and sexual.

Starting with One's First Intention

"Warriors always take a first event of any series as the blueprint or the map of what is going to develop for them subsequently." - don Juan in The Second Ring of Power, by Castaneda

 
I'm going to let this post simply be a place marker for now. The completion of this essay hasn't really surfaced in my mind, although the value of FIRST INTENTION, never seems to leave it.

What I want to say has to do with that value and it not only being the first value but the greatest and last, the alpha and omega of one's life. If you haven't asked yourself this question, you haven't lived your life yet. If you haven't struggled with this question, you haven't examined the possibiliities of your life. If you haven't lived this question you haven't tasted the beauty of truth or the power of eternity.

Quotations Archive

All minds quote. Old and new make the warp and woof of every moment. There is no thread that is not a twist of these two strands. By necessity, by proclivity, and by delight, we all quote. We quote not only books and proverbs, but arts, sciences, religion, customs and laws; nay, we quote temples and houses, tables and chairs by imitation. -Emerson

But the inventor only knows how to borrow. . . . Every book is a quotation; and every house is a quotation out of all forests and mines and stone-quarries; and every man is a quotation from all his ancestors. - Emerson

Our character is thus borne toward eloquence by how we conspire with the winds that sound us out, with how we respond to our shifting centers and play along the heaving circumferences of our condition. - Emerson

The Book of Mormon, A Broadway Musical

Find a "review" of Jon Stewart's interview with the creators Trey Parker and Matt Stone at popwatch.ew.com, on their latest production titled, The Book of Mormon. While I haven't seen the show yet and may not for some time, from everything I've heard and read so far I am encouraged enough to feel confident in promoting this show unequivocally.

There was a moment in the interview with Jon when the word mystery was spoken as something primary to their purpose aka their personal higher authority/power. I like the idea of how they appear to be escorting in to society teaching perspectives on how to utilize mystery as an explorative tool, with the result being something quite germaine to peace and harmony. Certainly, a key step in manifesting peace is one's ability to be open to and appreciate different points of view. I think its appropriate that their "religion of mystery," representing a collective evolution in the paradigm of religion, would be expressed musically with its revelations in humor. In a post religious world of genuine holy freedoms these elements would be my preference, for starters anyway.

Quotations Archive

“Things are saturated with the moral law. There is no escape from it. Violets and grass preach it; rain and snow, wind and tides, every change, every cause in Nature is nothing but a disguised missionary.” - Emerson

“Fate involves melioration. No statement of the universe can have any soundness, which does not admit of its ascending effort.” - Emerson
"...and the true romance which the world exists to realize, will be the transformation of genius into practical power." - Emerson

“A man should know himself for a necessary actor,” Emerson states. “A link was wanting between two craving parts of nature, and he was hurled into being as the bridge over that yawning need, the mediator betwixt two else unmarriageable facts.” - Emerson

Ode to Rhiannon Runnin'

I was singin' to her

while smellin' the air
Taken by the wind...
Taken by the sky...
She was mine but was
Taken on the sly,
behind a girl’s lie,
Leaving me to cry
Unable to say bye.
After years, she finds
this face - with smiling
eyes, gazing into hers,
in awe of love’s return.  
 
© 022811 rjduberg

MoonSea

Whatever differences may come
to others not serious and sincere
I have heard the Moon's laughter
regarding so many fictions levied
Over her own truth, light reflecting
for one vision that listens depth
sincerely, seriously, and silently.

There is singularity at the source
incapable of description here
yet, quite there, and yet, where
waters bring full circle light here
in shimmering beauty of shadow
reflecting moon shine harmony.

Coming home within humanity
it gives our sexuality its power
from highest source naturally.
Nothing comes nearer in fact
to this union of chaos and order
manifest in the divine blended.

In polarized yet reciprocal union
created out of pure reflection
we have the cosmic equity
which forms the foundation
of humanity's procreation
reflecting solidly and true.

© 022711 rjduberg

To Die For

The part of life I have cared the most about,
enjoyed the most, learned the most from,
found the most inspiration as a result of,
came unglued to most with,
spent my nights awake over the most,
ever became ecstatic over,
ever felt my life martyred by,
or felt like martyring my life by,
not to mention just dying for.

Well it died just yesterday now
after revealing itself as a fraud.
Letting go was never so hard
and yet, who can hold on
in the face of a bracing wind
to the tail of a tale about vapor

There will be no wake for the crying
those better left alone to think it over
might just complicate things if they knew
the manner of my lover, lying I could trust her.
Despite her persuasions and sleight of hand
which defied my reason and better judgment
for years, only to suddenly call on my attention
with that old pattern I honestly thought was over

found everything at risk to begin had evaporated.

© 110223 rjduberg

Lover

my heart beats
sound your name
in my soul as clear
as rain, as radiant as
the sun, and as deep
as the ocean, as beautiful
as a starry night, and more
fragrant than any rose.

The Talent is the Call

Bringing light into the world making life possible
would be the sun's call and her answer shines
without condition but without recognition, love
and a talent that makes miracles like this world
remains so far away, its said too close burns ya
and every feather I see floating is what remains
of those who got separated from their shadows
when blinded and dehydrated, surprise surprise.
Nobody blames her, life thrives more than not.
Of that I have to believe, like a moon shadow
Her talent is a world that loves her still, so, well
even while not knowing, their being calls her.
If I have a soulmate then as much as you, her.
And if I am sideways with you, then with her
while the weather will roar in darkest shadow
Even Gaia cannot stand love that is wasted.
Being a man requires you to negotiate love
against the unbearable thought negation.
The cost skyrockets after so many declines
and nothing good comes in that descent.
Gaia tells me the same, a brother as well
Skewed is a little town I'm accused of visiting
when the descent bankruptcy begins to win.
This ONE TIME, my star will continue to shine.

© 2-17-2011 rjduberg

A flashback proper ummmm ... Oh Alice ...

The major facts which I find relevant like a hammer. Today has seen me pumped full of higher energy from somewhere I didnt attend to, really. Now, there's been a breach and I'm afraid virus' more than anything, and I'm far too cooped up, but I can't deny Steph hon is a schmumongous hottie that girl ... has secrets I will not tell. But I'm telling God right now did he get all of that one or what? Some would say I've been blessed, LOL, that would make my entire life if she opened up to me in reality.  Dreaming.

But who needs reality when her fantasies are just smokin YES...ok then ...

~Death Rambles to Hell

Itt's sad again to run into my melancholy, unexpected distress now
 change, now, some added survival skills
slow is for me, ranged out comfortably, ticks are lost on others
change of atmosphere's Kelvin is never missed to my extremities
hands and feet, numb as hell
always noticed, always in mood to engage legendary futterwacken
 a lot is rarely noticed except by function, and some moods don't care
I got em spread out more consciously now, their essence comes
along a measure of energy singular or combined, mess kept separate
for messy minds in past and history tonight, the way back, unkind
SCAT FACT
Just feeling clear enough to quickly harmonize a frequency polyphonic
 energy vibrating at a certain rate, pace, or dynamic range is aligned
Right now I am on the tail of a big flop, in full polarity reversal
and nothing is very pretty about such a sight, felt invisible butt ugly
known only by new felt energy, heard by inner ear, with an inner eye.
ENERGY in a MOOD
But tonights mood strangely suggests I lost relational respect
after earlier today dramatically stating how much I need her
I felt so much pain over losing Renee I threaten suicide to her
and there's nothing odder one finds than desperate pretense
you know your going to face whatever, if your ruse misfires
but nothing could be expected to be greater for the magnitude
expressed in an actor's talent to be sincere despite negatives.
There's no honor gained by forgetting to de-stage in present
where reality exists and life is limited to existing processing
process existing like death ramble to hell
to make death early and merciful my answer
for what?
NOT THIS
Stephie's convincing me no matter what, she will not cheat.
That one is a real stormy pit with surging cold front coming
front surging in me, backside will wait until eye floods not
in dry whisps wheezing maybe, tired of crying over a girl.
WATERSOGGY
She convinced me with concurrent moods unfamiliar now.
I just feel the inevitable pain of being axed permanent like...
my inward horizon unseen yet felt beyond foggy notions
I've learned to trust even if wrong, for such errors instruct
us, to lessons of abstract nature to prepare the eventuality
of our escort to manifestations reflecting nothing familiar
old conditions overrun by abstract knowledge, now here
makes a new mood - so highly desirable.
I liked the old ones when she was still mine to have
it's worthy even if untrue for my dreams of any sanity
MOODED
grace, high and dry, less being fav...
The thought of losing her still bloody's floor with cardio
my chest wounds leave me broken without the sorrow
for I'd rather not end my days in a world without her
and I'm pretty sure my frenzied attempt to re-negotiate
the new mood's shadow, cast over my heart like a hat
failed miserably with another slow roll to the presses.
I take as some kind of compassionate compromise
where extra time is provided for me to get used to it
LOL
casting shadows on my face like that
and used up in encore between surviving issue
sees me choking on view to extinguishing flames
the idea itself reprehensible, only she would
unafraid, and really without care still so graceful
so much that these lethal wounds she disallowed
and now this makes a second time with the one
whose to blame! ... when all is mutualized nutbag.
NO
still engaged but connection fading, right?
how much time? is simple, shorter, no doubt
what hope have I remains a crime third time
still a third time really sucks somehow
and I should mention that any killing
possible not for lack of weapons
or killers and triggers
would favor me by ending this
by doing me first
so sick to see her
a third time, is odd, is it not?
COPYRIGHT © 2152011 rjduberg

PS-I hope she never reads this, and my experiment remains less influential outside my control. I prefer her maintain social grace with positive notes even if volume decreases steadily and unresponsive for glory of past.

Somewhat ashamed my general westernized idiom use here hearkened me back all theway to Renee ... so concerned that my choice on a subject that sucks like this will offend or irritate a reader's comfort with this poem.
It talks to a specific time and place and understanding relevant to my life and it sucks but wtf? That's the ramble to hell man

Open to suggestions for replacing my current navigational maps with new associations, for sure.

Namaste,rj

~Relief in Need Needs No Theory

It's oh so early but not nearly for my insomnia
spending time like spare change on confection
comes not unlike the extra lbs of middle age
this morning as I braille matters numb in hand
running on empty again when long ago dry
One part per million I've heard is too much
how to discern that in one's spirit weighs humble
on so many operations one's mind will execute
chaining along a linear fashion is trope norm
while a few oddballs throw in knots of dreams
which cue one to stop, and play the back side.

In this memory of power once driven round
all these knots have become a kinder route
with the chains of moments flowing in time
vanishing falling even wandering off remote
a few special kinds of noisy pieces are kept
to remind me that while I prefer not time
ways remain myself tethered unfortunate.
this waste of now in such noisey alarm
keeps me awake, aware of my aches of age
Would life be without ointments and heat
power sources I can plug into in the pinch

Such time constrained reconaissance
would be for not, leaving one part enough
to seek my future and succumb to the rest.
The relief of braille may bump a paradox
yet I find the more relief the better the now.

Graphic for Death of a Valentine

Archived Quotations

The only thing that is real is the being in you that is going to die.
— Castaneda, The Fire From Within

"The greatest secret of monarchic rule...is to keep men deceived and to cloak in the specious name of religion the fear by which they must be checked, so that they will fight for slavery as they would for salvation, and will think it not shameful, but a most honorable achievement, to give their life and blood that one man may have a ground for boasting."
— Baruch Spinoza

“...Before considering the question that is seemingly always the most immediate one and the only urgent one, What shall we do? we ponder this: How must we think? For thinking is genuine activity, genuine taking a hand, if to take a hand means to lend a hand to...the coming to presence of Being.” — Castaneda, The Fire From Within

"...If warriors are going to have an internal dialogue, they should have the proper dialogue. That's the detached manipulation of intent through sober commands." — Castaneda, The Fire From Within

"...one cannot speak of anything at any time: it is not easy to say something new; it is not enough for us to open our eyes, to pay attention, or to be aware, for new objects suddenly to light up and out of the ground."
— Foucault, The Archaeology of Knowledge

...one of the most blinding of all errors in our search for our true nature and for paradigms which enhance our participation in life is the confusion of who we are with our consciousness of things. We confuse being with being conscious.  — Werner Erhard, Essay - Being Well

Another Beautiful Sunset in Imperial Beach

May the Biggest Spammer Win...

Most reasonable people would agree that it doesn't make sense that the companies who own or take part in a network of interlinked websites should rank higher than those who don't. And why should the websites that have people "writing" boatloads of blog comments outrank their competitors who have no desire to spam others' blogs? If you're commenting because you'll possibly get some link value rather than because you feel the need to add to the conversation, it adds unnecessary clutter and should be considered spam by the search engines (in my opinion). I wouldn't be surprised if 90% of blog and forum comments fall into that category, as do most articles submitted to article directories.  - Jill Whalen,CEO of High Rankings, Boston MA
 

I read this today and the ambivalence I felt represented Jill's occupational integrity and courage in calling out one of the biggest of the big boys responsible for the show we call the internet on how the facts don't match up with their spin. Understanding how the trail that leads up to Google's door is one of the most lucractive and expensive ly maintained cyber paths you can find today, the defacto cargo which that road carries, there can be no mistake about, liquid capital, money for short. The western advise for deconstructing any commerical enterprise called "Follow the Money," is a key factor in analyzing internal Google policy and operation, because of its primary place in their economy and in conjunction with the skew between factoids of function and statements of policy. Thus when asking the question about black box results not justifying policy one has use money in the first variable to find the closest or smallest angle of attack in generating an explanation.

The skew then becomes less about error and more precisely about money and its leverage between functional results and how far Google's statements can veer or appear to still obtain poilcy if the questions regarding greyness in those results can be dismissed in light of a minimum set of cold hard facts obtained. Another word for this corporate spin control between operations having a skewed skew or derived skew has historically been propaganda. The way Google avoids this kind of reputational negative has to do more with the fact that Google's royalty and huge such that they acquired a form of monarchial power to their base. Thus, spin with the purpose of persuading or convincing or generating more support, necessary and part an enterprises strategic planning for competitive response no longer supports or impacts corporations economic health since the days of acquiring larger market share or over. 

What the challenge is now to succeed IS in NOT giving any critical mass of content leading to dissatisfaction and rejection based on the sense of being lied to or not adequately supported or you name anything involved in a perceived lack of integrity or lack of innovative pace and speed and the challenge now is containing that everything in that box from getting out and becoming visible to the client.
Jill's article may lean a little bit in favor or her own personal and corporate bias, and such managers of critical review content must be careful about their rhetoric, carefully qualifying their assessments and editing out bias to be successful in their jobs journaling on an industry where every event and operation exists only because someone was courageous enough to invest in a new paradigm of design from which to generate solutions current programming was too weak to address, just looking at this from a pragmatic and economically viable angle. Risks are taken both out of a commitment to vision or excellence but more rroutinely because of the possiblility of bigger pay check or payday that such efforts on new development are justified by given the massive organizational support and retooling that often comes with them.

What Jill has given me pause so I could revisit my mostly cynical attitudes towards eCommerce applications which dominate the internet as well as Search Engines, which as I have already described exist at the most expensive locations where nothing but money travels and clients get treated to the back doors and alleyways so that all resources for transfrering and accounting for money are state of theh art. These doorways are gigantic perversions of infrastructure you can find at the pinnacle of business today. Shocking realities which are quiete rarely seen in public media and reporting (the real propagandists) and kept free and clear of the trouble makers like Jill by simply censoring all who travel their letting only qualified money carriers enter and exit with some very esoteric encrypted passkeys.

So there's the money, and the skew, and the logical connection with the concluding inference that money is buying the skew, and paying the owners to CONCEAL results thus maintaining the public impression that the company's purpose is not being manipulated and thus the public's vote and their choices limited and/or monopolized, worst of all that market share has been coopted and now owned instead of competed for OR that god forbid what the public is being told is a fabrication and misrepresentation hiding these facts due to the likelihood of sales revenue fueling a competitor or competing market, NOT that general revenue is at risk since its dominated these days by the advertising dollars which form the basis of why the skew exists in the first place.

It's a fascinating phenomenon of corruption to consider and credit must be given to any reports which suggest or organize the intel which expresses the truth for less sophisticated laypersons, naturally existing in positionsn of regulation and governmental oversight, people most vulnerable and given into schmoozing buyoffs and bribery tactics, backroom dealings and their own form of compromise and spins aimed at more ideological pursuits instead raw profit.

Next ... What's really going on here!

Death of a Valentine, 2011
She's a ginormous goddess, fresh and natural
wizened through falls, gaining so much grace
she is a champion female with a divine touch
intelligence composed, understated, brilliant.
Her focus, an arc of grace, dances in a ballet
once upon a time, awing audiences on stage.
She is my self-reflection perfected in a woman
I have only adored more, each and every way.

But now that she's returned, be glad your late.
For I am not so feminine, nor nearly as brilliant
and things slow to me, while others keep pace.
I don't see an end coming to always being last.
I have gotten a solid point in this never-ending.
Complicated naivete in reserve, forward hurts.
Whatever comes last, of and out, of this moment
is my tradition, I have no one to blame but myself.

I write this poem for love, celebrating wonder
over my capacity to still feel love in my heart
especially for her, and hearing hers still return.
Just doesn't matter much to anyone anymore.
I've been waiting all my life for a girl like her
whose virtuosity is a flowering within my heart
I may yet get the rep, so often weeping starts
It took days at one point for me, to understand
I am making almost everything up in my head.

When I came to, I was once again sobbing
over the realization our love is fading history
and what I was engaging, all virtual in limit.
Leading once again to the original tragedy
whence I lost the chance as her Valentine.
Forever now without her deepest intimacy
seems worse for being my principle suffering
in ongoing struggle with wheels on the spin.

She is really so incredibly hot, love so true
Thus a poem to remember my role to wit
with a Valentine requeim made to honor
and the rest to recall how losing post felt
with a note on being humbled by love
and so it is even at the time of this write
My love for her was never greater, despite
knowing all is ruined inward, a future black.

© 2022011, rjduberg

dedicated to Stephie

One of the best cracks I've found expressed by don Juan....

"Everything that we do in the world," he said, "we recognize and identify by converting it into lines of similarity, lines of things that are hung together by purpose. For example, if I say to you fork, this immediately brings to your mind the idea of spoon, knife, tablecloth, napkin, plate, cup and saucer, glass of wine, chili con carne, banquet, birthday, fiesta. You could certainly go on naming things strung together by purpose, nearly forever. Everything we do is strung like this. The strange part for sorcerers is that they see that all these lines of affinity, all these hues of things strung together by purpose, are associated with man's idea that things are unchangeable and forever, like the word of God."  - don Juan, Castaneda, Magical Passes

Just read this quote above this morning and while I have been studying the and articulating the limits of langauge and thought expressed here by don Juan, I can't remember it ever being put so well in terms of simplicity and coherence. I think he gets right to the point without even ever really labeling the nature of it. One of my fav quotes.

Emergence and organization towards a taxonomy of organizing relations

I have argued for a physical basis for all ontological forms of emergence and consequently appear to be denying the possibility of a great wonder of the universe: its meaningfulness. But I want to suggest here that in fact I am arguing for an even greater wonder and that is that the physical, material universe itself is capable of conscious existence through its interdependent accumulation of complexity. In other words what we normally think of as "mental" is in fact a characteristic of complexly organised forms of ordinary matter and requires no miracles for its development.
- Jones, S.
______________________________________

Find that explanation hard to digest? This is the state of the art as far as ontological reason applied to the subject of consciousness expressed by physical beings. It renders the flatland of reductionism with and added dimension of cascading or ordered magnitudes as an essential MEANS by which a possible explanation for consciousness as emergent from the physical stuff of our physical being's constitutent parts. In other words where ordinary reductionism satisfies the necessary links and connections which exist among an organized set of constituent parts forming the basis for the emergent coherence and object being expressed at one step higher but due directly to the interrelations among parts. What Jones is attempting to ram down our throats is that consciousenss is just a meta level spanning the entire system and emergent from both all levels, all objects of coherent function and all constitutent functioning. From that perspective he suggests what emerges is the experience of being conscious. While it extends the reason along already emerging lines of meta logic on the integrating one's VALUE across and/or spanning separate paradigms, it to do any justice to the nature of coherence which consciousness must express as emergent from the physical.
What is the snag here preventing us from languaging the reality of consciousness, of which Jones' attempt was a gallant attempt but nonetheless worthless in identifying the emergence of consciousness ontologically. He does this knowingly it would seem as I recall early in his paper him speaking about the Irreducible quality of consciousness which is non-physical, but in the conclusion he forgets to address how function emerges in a non-physical operation to create meaning and value abstractly vs among the array of methods properly defininig a neuro net and feed back system.
His attempt to rebuke I think comes in talkin about the ontology of language and how nothing in our language exists without some phyical corresponding reference. This kind of specious reasoning is a bit disappointing. On the one hand ontologically one defines language by physical measures or info perceieved and inventoried into sets which then are given linguistic names. However, that doesn't prevent the evolution of memes taking place on purely randomized non physical days of foamy chaos. We live for these days or at least our best humorists do and the reason for that is because it is precisely this ontological blind spot of Jones' which completes us as human beings.

~Yours Truly

In response to a challenge from a poet's community of mine over the following quote ... A poem is never finished , only abandoned - Paul Valery (1871-1945)

Yours Truly

Poetic power is a creative strength,
less an order of magnitude. What is
at the source, words, needless define
a subtle quality then missed in rhyme.

Here in the west, horizons list, belie
a future we believe, just emerges; here
we wait while time gains on what not
while future stays forever past us, there.

Thus never finished, only abandoned
in west, by flight to inner eastern light
where nothing begins, a route to end
makes a void, humorless, tasteless, fin.

So it was this poet traveled far away
before transcending the old manner
reversing the slide of my muse in stride
where words I used, used me instead.

Don't fret the mystery, for the mystery
can be gotten without effort or sweat
evolving the mean to encompassing
when the poet vanishes in a muse ally.

I say get used by the word, all mystery
and your act inscripts thus creatively
being free of any efforts to achieve
as you simply let be, YOURS TRULY.

1/15/2011 rjduberg

Hold on to your Hat

~Sagacious Orator

The speaker's stage set
upon the cue
the veiled consciousness
freed of itself.

The intent to oration
is a bizarre contraction
forever the sound confuses
ignorance, revealing a void.

And he spoke a line, meant
to connect a relative scale.
He spoke not for love, now
in service to please, all Being.

He was fond, and yet, loved
though others found him mad.
Those who were silent nearby
began to realize themselves.

Stunning Mystery of Life

How wonderfully impossible to describe is the actuality of this PLACE we call Earth where we live in my waking thought and awareness tonight. Whisper, shhhhh, for here she is right here, and that perfume makes me cry. No lover, no girl, no goddess I've ever laid eyes on matches the immensity of beauty and love which lives directly under my feet and unlike stories of creators, my true gratitude rests and is for her, this place in the cosmos for which my life, what there is left of it, has always been unable to fathom even as it pervades every pore and dimension of my being.

~sanguine sang the words i love you

Everybody wants to hear
the sound that loves them
music for one, transcends
when the heart enjoys
resonation  deep in -
A medallion of calm
turns chaos to contrast
the celebration of life.

Nov 2010

Rally Against My Insanity

*dedicated to John Stewart's Rally for A Return of Sanity, 10/30/2010

To issues of complexity, is something thus contrived?
I look at the ocean and see complexity truly alive.
I cannot concur a self so responsive, while I aspire
No is a facade I present to balance a chaotic rivalry
between knowing and believing, real and imagined.

For just this moment, if I may cast a new self to make
A real no for a stand, against my negative expression
where I halt steps to my ill-conceived myriad manners,
like so many recursions over simplicity reduces friction.
Sing against mechanical knowing of what will proceed.

Perhaps no better a place exists to purchase a cliche
just this once, for a successful rally against negativity
having surrendered to a self lacking the eloquence
to reject the incompetent manner of a self negated
by the twisted false self, self serving act of hypocrisy.

How I manage all defeat by self prophecy, is less -
than my own untoward rejection of good, by fuzz
I offer a homage to humor's value in this process
and understand other's laughter provides focus.
"Blah, blah, blah," I said missively, "or something."

I now rally against that innocence as contrivance
And note the cliche of truth equated to something
and my sincerity juxtaposed to my teacher's dismay
in a class laughing uproaringly, skipping the question.
Pride, rebelliousness, vanity - conspired to make me.

The tension my manners, innocently suggesting, are
a discordant state of mind seeking a quest against
true answers, true questions, and smart relevance.
Pure vanity and pride matter if we lack a response.
And rallying, a question asks how to restore sanity.

Let this moment rally against din of false begging
where innocuous logic using innocuous notions
stated simply as something, raise a veil of derision
instead of being honest about asking a question
where no right answer begs us yet, to stumble on.

Understanding Degrees of Difficulty

With respect to Gurdjieff's view of man, that part of us that believes we can "do" is false, and yet due to our mechanical identification with it we not only protect it with all of our being, we are powerless to progress in the work of self remembering. And we respond negatively to our feelings of effort which do not achieve any penetration, insight, or result. On top of all this, this false self based on belief and imagination rather than truth, resists any effort to verify the truth about being, beginning with the idea that in our current state we cannot do. What this false personality creates is a reasonable saga to explain why things happen the way they do. This brings us to another layer of difficulty having to do with imagination once again insofar as given objective knowledge and even some degree of insight false personality grabs ahold of the idea and stops any and all action which might assimilate that knowledge, effectively shutting down and negating the possibilities that were present. It's as if we are mechanically programmed to accept the idea without verifying it, like being told where the door outside is without actually stepping through it - when the main objective is to go outside!!

~The Case for OpenSource Code on the internet

Works for me. The open condition will invite a better tone to the across the "netboard," which is always preferrable to me when especially when I'm seem like I'm in a slide.

We decide the reasons why.
That always entails a justice
that nails eloquent, we quote
our own brand answers, on wind
It's out there stalking, and waits
there's is a trick, Carlos said...
Funny guy, one time serious stu
as I became my own, I laughed
hard, in roll jerking my head too

still not convinced of a difference
to the wave of the hand, by grace
to a voice, speaks a unique name
you call it, This foolish little fiasco
we both know what peeps-seem
I can't tell you what ain't real-see
That's how I talk about that reality

I'll never forget the young times
a boundary moving us through.
Be that as it may, jack...
There's a forested mountain
you can still find your way back
if you're willing to climb a mass
of rock, past more mass on it
way up, where there's wind
for the joy and strangeness
incomparable listening makes
especially of the countryside.

So many women, (then) one day
and that was that for the girls
Like beautiful thought, came
ecstatically, always orgasmic
Waking up the young of yum

Who needs to check this out is...
Dave Matthews with is find guitar
And a butt like mine, spanked
over the time spent - I ran there.
Always its mis-communication...
never, is anyone on time, here.

The more important ghost echos
falling music in my soul loudly
and all around my head, not fun
my ass takes the biggest beat
must be why I get so confused
ending up at the casino then
But I'd swear she's right there
laying on her side, smiling wide
Just the darkness of shadows
The travel can be harrowing

Now Emerson wants the eloquent
to say that people are quoters
at heart their identity is absent
and indicates men are asleep
Trying to work in a segue for that
and not upset awake strangers
I'm reading Emerson for fun
and consult with a number
of potential goddess models
and nothing more eloquent
than the tricky Shamans today.

I got miles to go on that
before I can get out da way
Take that last slide in sand

That's where she'll be
if she's not playing something
needing better resonation
instrumentals she allways loved
In the beginning, it was chaos
nonstop madness, pure hor-

Here's to those that putt it
There's nothing like a round
to get the juices flowing
But, working at a course
there are so many calls
made to fit for Emerson

~View of the Plain

View of the Plain

Above the Plain, there's a special space, Emersonian
The argument is rather a lame duck, brutal nevertheless
I'd rather give more room to having fun writing my poetry
But the truth is far more nebulous, causing little in interest
What is real for Emerson regarding words, asks the question
Even while we may voluntarily investigate these paradigms
what he makes specific is the involuntary part of perception
forming a common parlance to a hidden entrance of the soul.

It's very hard to see, especially since any clarity is less than nice
the resulting 'event' seeks to exit life's flow with extreme predjudice
rather unconsciously, due to past reactions of trauma, add as a fact
that there's plethora of variation to what all that is non-voluntary
including a special complex case of active will, the one exception
The importance of this kind of socially based knowing is provocation
Agitating a reader in a just way which calls something important
in the reader, into question, not to invalidate but compel a living answer.

Just playing around with poetry, exploring Emerson's genius is arousing
I can post this View of the Plain as a introductory poem for the time being
Though it doesn't impress me with approaching Emerson's level of tension.
The thing for Emerson seems to be the quality of provocation made for us.
Gonna try and spark a little progressive segue in smooth transitions in here
for now....

© 102010 rjduberg

note: First in a series of poems that will span my current reading of Lysaker's book about Emerson and the notion of Self-Culture

~Convergence of Child

When the tide is right, is the view masterful in the light
and when the master looks, is not all - a tsunami of love?
What better manner of recognition lends itself to man
once a child, consumed by his own windy exuberance
defining such delight, twirling for the crash standing up?

Discovering higher dimensions exist to bring us to a halt
understanding nothing exceeds boredom quite as well.
Requires something more than reverence and willful fall.
Of timing, this present moment expires, in eternal irony.
A true man humbly begins again until converging it all.

© 92010 rjduberg

Her Fall Legend

And she was ...
and yet...
here she is...
and I am...
once, twice the man ...
in love again...
before the almighty...
absolute blindness...
reversal of fortune...
simple exchanges...
tasty kisses...
tornado chasing...
pupils flashing...
awe inspiring...
divine feminine...
mother too...
gods, her children...
madness of butter...
churned inward here...
and yet...
a shaman's question...
no better test...
living a quicker...
love eternal...
dream power...
sun and moon...
flying or floating...
her extreme heel...
heart condition...
better laughs notice...
tantra yoga...
revision impression...
prepared with binds...
free and unexhausted...
a thing to repeat...
occurring ecstatically...
beautiful divine grace...
all time sighs, naturally...
reason why deluded...
feeling insanely...
longer longing forever...
disipline of being...
perfect timing...
sweetest dreaming...
coming of autumn...
spring's perfection...
her legend...
Fall is mine.

COPYRIGHT © 10/2010 rjduberg

Groundhog Rhyme

I thought of you reading there, ahhhh...
So intelligent, sensitive, and kind
Anticipating another merry go round
No doubt, I've misplaced the notices
by those unwilling to hurl over my furls
too often closer to bovine cud than not.

There I was on the pristine bower looking
Your words - all - make my virtue a pleasure
Hit or miss you know, I do remember times
when I wrote in the zone of poetry read,
I adore those poets with disipline to write.
Even tonight, I've managed to kill a bear
while getting bit by the nastiest skeeters.

I could pray for talent entirely natural
allowing me to transmit unbound beauty
in poetry, from just looking at this nature.
And, I admit the thought arose too, for not.
I have learned not to mess with sources
for any reason, preferring purity of mind.

And do not bother with feeling grateful
about how I spared you your upchuck
by writing from inside a genre just read
instead of slamming other words badly
It's still the greatest exhaustion in my life
these sketchy rhymes beat me at times.

© 92010 rjduberg

To be or not to be...

This is the only way anyone can frame the question of truth (in the beginning)? Beyond this requires a level of heroism that is easy to spot but rare enough to challenge the status quo, and certain to raise new lessons for one's life. That can't I dare say ever have been a pleasant experience.

We all choose how we respond to life freely. Any denial can be overcome with a balanced attitude and humor. Desire matters first before anything else.

Dedicated to Sons whose mothers recently passed, being older doth suck.

Heart of Bliss

Bliss Today

Amidst all the normal noise
destroying harmony's place
sits our sleeping status quo
in disgrace at a street corner
while life is a flowing constant.

What began with that, expanded in volume to surround the rest - I guess...
I began now to ask about what that feeling would look like, made to sound...
I was watching a growth of magnitude, sure that this universe was feeling, now
returning me in color of newest green straight from my inner joy's celebration
- - to hear more
everything possible became mine and within no time my emotion buzzed
a glorious amplification of a harmony oin vibrations rising within WHAT?
- - Now this

Now that, and both as one, time and again, a flourish comes

a white hot flame putting all of allnesses in synchronized punch

never failing to leave me something of a fried mess of a bliss

- -  thinking what happened in my world just then thus goes unseen

I never thought it would come like this, being alone for the heart of bliss.

COPYRIGHT © 82010 rjduberg

Hostage Trip of Hell

This body is under an attack of ghostly terror
Already unreliable for demands of attention
evolving, accelerating, of rapid illumination
my body is groundhog, drowning is scripted.

The flesh makes procreation matter to death
and while becoming conscious of freedom
my flesh's self starts to search farther beyond
never succeeding. 'Out there' spoons no exit.

What desire understands, means to vanish
itself with self, from the endless yarn of cycle
Now it only creeps alongside fleshling waddle.
Mind's footing so tenuous by All's distraction.

A tactical genius is required to reset the spirit
forces a plenty, which together might render
another plane of consciousness empowered
within self's metaphysics, neutralizing tension.

Present to the world, I feel the force of sense.
The logic of my flesh defines precise function
that is expressed with mechanical clockwork
along gradients of purpose, effectively acted.

That's not you, nor me, all withal forgetting,
leaving vast debris of hubris, our night-falling.
Next time will be worse for the quick fixes.
Possibilities remain, silent still to illumine...

Oh, but such fantasy with this body, mine.
Here I sit having the sense time runs thin
knowing its my flesh's subjective view
on a trip even less desirable for its hell.

COPYRIGHT © 82010 rjduberg

Those Heralding Grace, A Toast

Those Heralding Grace, A Toast

Upon the land he found his feelings wrenched
tight in a knot, And everyone clammoring to be
heard next, driven by need only violence becomes
this path forsaking love the mystery has the knot
by the throat and then, some make a point well
for right, that no harm shall come to them, we honor -
such as custodians of prime nature, modern illumined.

For with them our humanity's destiny endures, chance
cannot penetrate or ruin the seed of love in harvest.
We are one here, conscious of this higher vibration
a state of being caused from the absolute above,
Remains eternally what it is, never born, nor reborn
never falling simply risen by final inward recognition
and for a lucky few, objective knowledge spoken.

Look how a mind falsely represents its living owner
by attending outwards and presenting that, names
interacting with things, made up with shadow crests
when the who deserves name in sacred utterance
of a spirit incarnate, free and real, conveying soul.

Once too arrogant to speak softly over what not...
I take refuge now in listening to truth sung by love
even while I keep furling my main sheet as a vent.
Alone, I now toast those unparalleled custodians
who may never understand what heroes they are.
I raise my glass to love and them. heralding grace.

© 82010 rjduberg

The Eagle, Cage, and Magic Karma

Appearing upon eastern firmament
reflecting western sunset, blazing tall
wrought majestic by chance encounter
days thence and face to face shudders
with what was days earlier hailed eaglet
now stood two terrible feet tall before me

Silent, still, shocking, a witness to my yelp
lifting in turn 6 feet wide carried invisibly
the pulse of her wings, a slow nonsense
her size continuing to diminish until lost
while I sat there unable to breathe this
in my little cart surrounded in a cage

What possibility makes karmic vintage
the most beautiful poetry in fullest sense
where turnabout turns out tears jubilant?
I beheld my limitations on that fence
Grown up - a eaglet's lift and soar into sky.
The beauty of spirit freed, to soar out there.

© 82010 rjduberg

New Grips

Too fresh and young goes right for the throat and bruises.
Tonight, I thought of a new schizophrenia, added to my list
the old fav, a rite of passage, mental illness on borderline.
I was never so bored then, now keep list of craziest juices.
When Ricky G invented lying, and Jennifer G picked him
over Lowe, more than some heat - generated by that girl.
Matthew's is Some Devil; a genius; he is Shiva blessed.

I was shocked to find myself resisting avalanche of spirit
so late in life, while I spend my time pretending otherwise.
It's not the white light, blindness, dumbass, or the witness -
falling ever behind, it's how long the flight - before my time.
Nevermind what I want, Santa got lost - in this impossibility.
After awhile, learning to be patient makes no difference.

You had me before? I died and came back in some fog?
asleep, let the world imprint something external of fashion?
Now invisible, worn smooth, the stubborness still has grip.
Afraid of what letting go will bring forth, turns up the heat.
You take some extra special inhales, humming; for today
new color coordinated, cutting-edge grips, have arrived.

© 82010 rjduberg

Tonight we were both right?

It's so nice when you can march with an adversary and walk away feeling that both of you honored the process, somehow? Huh? I don't know how that happens except that there's a special quality of our listening that accounts for the essence.

And ... maybe a few other influences I won't mention.

One I really am developing a PRE-Passion for is a new hallucinogen which purportedly can recreate a fully realized state of consciousness induction, by chemical... I hear the high lasts 20-40 mins. with no negative side effects under solid normal. And you experience infinity behind the cessation of one's EGO. What that is basically saying is that they have learned how to target LSD on that area of the brain which tunes to your EGO, that is until I read how much money a trip costs. I didn't even see where to start, I just know that whatever could be found is present right here, right now.

Made me sad that I wasn't interested in giving John a hug when he asked, the heart missing for something like that. Some bitch gave me that scar.

Rest of day was spent rhapsodic, in divine reaches, and now the wind is calm. For awhile, I was reverberating with memories of the most fragrant and exciting perfumes my girlfriends and a bunch of other women I chased as well, wore. Then there was this really nice expansion into various other but far different kinds of associated events which were no less for the satisfying, like wet newly mown grass in the morning mixed young sweat from a team on the gridline.

There's really nothing more important than translating vibrations of mind into whole body and whole being understanding. Well, let's just say I've been passionately expressing myself, with an understandably intense effort, and transcendence, easy and ripe. I've got the catalog backlogged.

Lastly, a shift in visionary thinking also took place although unintended it really seems unexpendable and necessary to reach a higher level of consciousness. I was musing again on a Hero King ethos reflection by social design. There's another hidden dimension there to the paradox of humanity's current dimensional status agreed to on bigger scale be only a beginning. Just starting, where we are going, invisible to what? how? for how long?

And then there was the death wish that popped up, scaring me a bit but just another realization and expression of my self, or maybe hints from above. As I was saying, the most important part of today was feeling the appropriate relationship between higher and lower and HOW it related to me and vice versa for sure.

Just thinking how little I want to know I guess, and the flow from up their is SO intense and constant and diversified, making feel like such a fool. Naturally speaking of course, I'm really HerO KinG incarnate - haha.

And now, I'm beginning yet another yoga. Is it a next step a higher possibility,  a greater process with greater proimse? Yes. The Book of Secrets will take me 112 steps to be more precise <vbs>.

Retrospect, shows me how much better a simple playlist shared and enjoyed can be when its new and somebody's creme de la creme. Anyway ...

Groovier Grabbing

My goober goosey gladdens in gracey giggle that tingles.
Hymnally, the goopier rant gains the glam of chanting jingle.
The delight of breathing is giddily gobby with the gushy vibe.
Going gimpy, I bestow ghostly glow, groovier, sweet feelings.

© 82010 rjduberg

Transit of Delight

Transit of Bliss From the High

Standing on the dock in this arriving mess
without waiting captain, a sea waits wide.
Inward, ocean horizons my soul a compass
for the seafare, a sloop made for my father
his eternal rest left it high and adrift, a cloud
in my sky of dreams, a quest for there.

This metaphoric seduction costs me pretty
a balance lost against the external grinds.
Disables, rescinds, cancels, and otherwise
ties a dream of freedom in dirge at dock.
Command expresses external axis to act
in labels moving to response, by and by.

Thus everything belonging to the present
including truth, energy, beauty, beings =
are immune to the clinging of command.
Poetry itself, language manifestly inward
requires a muse that transcends its world
where order of function thrives, as a rule.

My present furls on the dock of my transit
enough I reckon, to satisfy one afternoon.
I'm on an expedition to vibrating present
Where what comes from higher sources
is kept consciously so, never lost below.
My unfurled delight sails a windless wind.

I ask only for natural harmonic continuity.
Look for me playing on a big wave, cresting.
The best shine radiates a cleared deck.
A good sailor makes his art the best of now
Where consciousness of higher and lower
allows higher influence a blissful sanctuary .

© 8/2010 rjduberg

The Tantric Mongoose

Women need clarification, according to Shantam Nityama (Mongoose), from men. This requires men to be in touch with the streets and to complete their relationship with mom. This means loving one's own energy without compromise, not dumbing down, or invalidating. ... 
I like this teacher's focus and his protege SashaCobra as well.

Electricity (positive-male) needs to be balanced with magnetic (negative). Male and Female is just another way of representing this.

We know fogs

We know fog's about color inhibition
the damp vapor is a din to light
black and white gradient unfolds
without muse, mystery, or wonder
just the oscillating echo of a past
along with random waves of time.

You'll find it often at ocean's foot.

8/2010, rjduberg


to recognize force, being plays

switching channels on the fly
until letting it all hang out says

this moment, this day, pays...

with a glow that sweats love
and this gift of paradox slays
what once thought itself Self
for consciousness of the real

and stumble mumbles asking
what is the force of the force
I live?

COPYRIGHT © 6/2010 rjduberg

Laughter Dancing

Dancing this morn more bursty than flowing
Coital pop, flaming hot, grinds peak and stop
So quick, so loud, so deep, so wild the flame
I cannot speak of it, nothing remains of it
Except for my breath that smokes and smells

To witness in another unseen moving power
continues to escape unmindful attention
confuse those working with sincere aplomb
while being celebrated by the rhapsodial
also known as the dancing madmen of old

enlightened mind at rest, laughter dances.

© 6/2010 rjduberg

Fragmentation a Syndrome of Sleep and a Bitch

I'm counting on most not reading beyond the title of this entry post. The real story is that in men I don't find fragmentation the same way I do in Women who bitch. Men are more apt to whine or quite often resistance across the board makes the whole of them asses. The problem is just as much an issue with women but not spoken about with as much tolerance. Women don't tolerate other women or themselves speaking about fragmented women going over the top when it comes to behaving decently.

Their negativity exists in their having killed the segue in their intellect.

Non-fragmentation can mimic this condition when the woman is anti-partriarchal (every woman by default who never experienced one positive male role model growing up in life ). This leaves lacking precisely that kind of function in her being which men are gravitational at intellect. Beginning with the simple make wrong act or role in the simplest mind and ending with literary masterpieces transcending whatever genre they manifested evolution in. With the grey inbetween filled with intellect of such color along the gradient going from black and white through (infinity -1) colors.

Understanding how math relates to language for instance is a question of intellect which would never be found fragmented, assinine, asleep, bitchy, unkind, or otherwise insensitive. Actually stepping it up a level to transrational thinking, in observing how Math grew out of being an thus it's dialect might be called Being.

In the flip side of this, using words for their mathematical principles and relevant structure objectified in symbols. But words, can represent infinity in a way perhaps only a shadow at this point but something which mathematical computation breaks down when articulating the relation. The equals sign means relation however infinity = nothing in classical math which quantifies. In order to fully understand how language can communicate to a mind still ignorant that dimension of experience that relates to infinity, the shadow of words ie math, must be placed at the floor, b&W and fragmented. This involves our being as I've already suggested, when I made gender an issue for distinction. In our being, ignorance is controversial, the main issue for those a step up from being complete asleep, that rise in consciousness reflects in parallel and encompassing one's being. Leaping ahead to the point then ...

Almost a ceiling, which itself remains objective consciousness for me, being able to link parallel perspectives on present circumstances is a question I was in earlier tonight, before the pressure of corresponding became dominant.

My insights tonight were inspired by the recognition that placing spirituality before and above anything else dimensionally to one's being, removes all attachments and connections to the floor. Once one frees oneself from anykind of static relationship to themselves, one is able to know their spiritual possibilities and start actualizing their potential. One is not free however to respond to freedom by increasing one's ego.

Today, I observed myself chasing self satisfaction and saw the ego for what it was. Dreadfully seductive and the site of expectation. Such is the nature of all expectations, that they are really just one of a number of pillars holding up the ideal which was the seed of our indiviuality and the extent of our belief in it. While this could be called the Psychological dimension of our being, distinct from Spiritual, there is a fundamental principle regarding decency of behavior which correlates in the Spiritual. It is a pillar because it is much more than this or that but achieves appropriateness in relationship to present circumstances and conditions. These words all have a dynamic operational bias and that bias is relative with the balance between almost all static and all dynamic makes sense when one integrates physical correlates.

At any rate...the question right now is whether or not enlightenment which is universal and absolute can be articulated without the disclaimer regarding words having significant relativity yet in our being to succeed in that articulation?

Dust Up

This morning found me slopping out a Dust Up, or at least that's what I call a list of a principle remix of my personal illumination, something like a rolling integral status check (from a sometime somewhat, to this right now) ...

Question of Effort (A daily renewal)
This is a call to the heart of the heart of life itself and making today successful for being fully lived, consciously evolving.
Call of Creation (Muses)
Attention needed and maintained for Creativity as an Evocative Response. Ask and ye shall receive. Be careful of what you ask for.
Music of the Spheres (Interactive Harmony)
The attention needed to allow mechanism (of self) optimum evolutionary capacity, expressed through a musical quality that is a harmonic rifting of spheres.
Rim Dancing (Celebrating a Good Wash)
Unless the systemic mechanism is not CLEANED in goodness of emptiness, itself a simple but exact routine, potential liberation will not manifest. To this end we MetaRecurse the process by having fun, removing negativity from action of cleaning that results in more PROPER routine separations of byproduct from our energetic transformations. Thus, sitting on a throne, evolves; with the Crown dancing on the Rim (of the cosmic toilet bowl! Pow)
Kissing Insight (Social Values of Spirit)
Something higher graces every moment, is present, and is the bliss of self remembering
Translating (Understanding Whispers in the Wind)
Unawakened consciousness expresses a overflowing teacup of piss, start to finish. Intuition or awakened consciousness expressing divine truth is same process only shifted with the source being an emptiness from which the unmanifest unfolds its diversity with higher consciousness voicing its unity.
Vision (Destiny's Rep)
Unfolding personally, this is a physical marker, some make into a crest. And then later, as the ego is replaced with higher service, this banner may include associated icons which are emblematic for each group vision one embraces in life
Relativity (Cosmological Order, Priority, Higher vs Lower)
As the captain of your soul, the quality of your ship's crew involves an economy of their efforts in exchange for progress on the open sea and their quality of life or health maintained and praise for their sacrafice. We come together in order to share a higher possibility of being otherwise any old ramjet with half a tank would do. Thus, what is relative retains our capacity for reverence and the priviledge this is. Once lost, the door is open for misery, and she will walk in before you notice it is now too late. The confident have faith that at every moment regardless of illusionary karmic vicissitude there exists a higher choice we can activate evolution with, sometimes layered with a shell of detached non-identification, called this too shall pass, with dynamic stillness allowing relativity to be viewed directly.
Question of Expansion (Vertical Movement)
Kundalini Yoga suffices to answer. I once caught a beautiful moment of this Vision with my camera, in the sky above as a lone contrail in an otherwise empty blue sky which had transformed figuratively into two serpents facing each other uncoiled. Really, this is bringing your future unfoldment into the timeless presence of your divine now consciously recognizing the process. One cannot avoid the shock of each cycle, often less a giggle for the bite. Simplified, it is a question of letting go, releasing one's grasp, eventually releasing all fear, keeping one's attention here active and the process high in priority for how it relates to vision, and I pray our liberation.
History(Teaching of Stops)
Unconsciously or not, descending or not, life is a movement from here to there, with certain exceptions in which as I so fondly love to quote someone who remains like gravity for me about this, "...you can't get there from here." How, why, where, and when does this happen? Integrating this lesson is to complete the Transcendental in this life of perpetuity.

Epilogue
This is a dust up of the timeless expression in my attention today. Is this too much to ask you to understand or otherwise desire too? I recognize there is unavoidable resistance of this nature and I appreciate it though I challenge this by inviting you to let me exchange (this) mine for yours. That's how we like to roll in a rift of poetic slamming anyway. Are you game?

For Understanding

Over the last 13 years since brushing death with congestive heart failure, I have consciously turned to poetry as a therapy when my broken heart sorrow was too much to bare. My muse has been such a divine gift, you don't find at the corner market, and nothing in the world has anything to say either. The gift is received within and desires to inspire an ultimate action. This action is blessed by the muse for understanding what needs your attention regardless. The choice to act is not an issue to muse but rather a constant call one's muse steps in like some overseas long distance operator. And, while I can describe specific effects that happen to quicken my vibration and spontaneous connections relevant and energizing as the muse moves within, I'm finally coming to a place of calm in which my attention is turning even further beyond what muses understand. There's really only gratitude for what grace and blessing I have already been given in this sense as I feel nothing but happiness knowing my muse stands here ready to evolve as well.

My muse has made me so giddy and kinetic, I often feel unequal to her charm and power. And as my own path evolves beyond self expression into self remembering, I am not too sure how to say the love I feel for what has given me so much insight throughout my life, because that love is aboslute and nothing spoken or known can express what it means that forever means more than ever will ever be and after. What I feel for now might help is just a little attention kept on a tune, a song sung about how beautiful a muse is - a call to higher calling.

~ The Blind Word

One morn I rose and looked upon the world,
"Have I been blind until this hour" I said.

Announced, declared, original copies presume
to a repetitious brew, aligned with flow so special
every rhetorical, historical, relevance queues culture
of an ordered feeling of confidence in knowledge.

As language recombines subjective memories,
the calculus strips the juice leaving mass illusion.
Does anyone know who to blame for this loss
where being awake is unoriginal, so mediocre?

Kung Fu Panda knew a blank scroll for his due
It was your authority of assumption to mention
that made Dragon Warrior a manifest illusion.
Still Panda original, our hearts retained delight

Forwhatis eternally original?

Mistaken Panda's secret lesson in hour, profound
feigned in poetic tribune, achieved in your muse
that little colorful swirl in the flow, fluidly balanced
made a drop of word burn, unblinding presence.

© 7/2010 rjduberg