Branden's Heroism

One of the forms of psychological heroism that builds self-esteem is the willingness to tolerate anxiety and uncertainty in the pursuit of your values-whether those values be work goals, the love of another human being, raising a family, or personal growth.

– Nathaniel Branden

Hymn to Angel SLP

Ooooh the sound of intoxicating suds
so needed then and more-so now
least considered keeps a door closed
the opening of which is chosen.

you say that its affordable
the feeling of guilt by association
encompasses the idea under what if
and shall I explain or not.

Our mind's eye pays in pain
so our lives relieve a shadow
where the brightness of the sun
finds a place of nearness to us.

Let her come by, for a peekaboo
but don't be surprised, who shows.
Awakened by a nurse must be positive.
It's the doctors you need to avoid.

Understanding how angels only serve
after being convinced their snots.
Adorably difficult right in private,
helping us to get back on our feet...

2009.1

Pursuing Deeper Insights

There is no question of the value being high no matter what the dimension one is considering when thinking of deeper insight and its pursuit. Without it, one's work is necessarily limited by the lack of growth associated and promoted by insights. There are managing issues however, in that while deeper insights are being acquired or expressed, time for work stops while the activity of the mind works down a different dimension.

A meta-state emphasizes deeper insight is limited by mechanics in the psyche, which not only limits their field of inquiry but produces interpretative results which are consistent and resonate the past scripting in order to maintain some degree of "connection with ???" An immeasurable difference exists between insight and deep-insight which represents the power of consciousness penetrating levels of being which have no limits, while still shrouded by the ultimate mysteries of life. Deep insight is consciousness accessing new levels and structures of information there with clarity and also instantaneous understanding, helping the spirit, increasing its power, raising how far one's consciousness can reach, and leaving behind great impressions which help our imprints and memories better than associative linking and intellectual math concerning the world which orders our experience as much as can possibly be done without overwhelming our presence.

So, depending on priorities and deadlines, insights and the meta work required to produce them should be pursued with the goal being a specific balance and let insight itself help determine this schedule, as it rightfully should.

Deeper insight can kill the unprepared and ordinary individual, dead in their tracks, if allowed to confront a man with such understandings of truth which are ours to heed and follow through with. There deadliness consists in revealing in the most factual basic way the emptiness of ordinary existence to the point of invalidating it completely. Unless a man is prepared to accept the consequences and has some beginning kernel of faith in what knowledge and teaching exists to help him mature and grow into a more complete level of being, beyond this mechanical and meaningless void, he is no different than a man sitting on death row without any further social contact to lighten his day because his days are endding, and in some very real way never began and to the depth and degree of the insight's scope finds how little is expected to ever come or happen from his concern and/or work towards existing on a higher level of consciousness.

ACTION as my ground of being, may remain forever, never to lose power, so great.

Can you sing and be happy while the sharks circle and whisper in your ear of their craving and hunger, even while they announce that their respect for you will not stop them from tearing you apart as soon as the circumstances warrant? When you can calmly float, and stare them down because your happiness has transformed your very existence into existence itself, and your soul remains to acquiesce the risk by virtue of the quality of irrisistence higher love inspires in all who come near.

And, because you recognize the benevolent power and satisfaction there is in giving to other life, still imprisoned by their destructive and unenlightened limits, your best and most open invitation to realize happiness itself, the communion of life energy that happy infects every contact with a higher purpose and path, destined with a renewed level of hope and a fate to reflect what light they were allowed when love smiled from on high.

Because happiness blesses us, finding it sufficient then frees our latent possibility to evolve naturally, for our nature is expressed happily at its complete best. Being responsible for this condition and state involves allowing one possibility to remain a mystery, though the rest of the world is ours to create and discover, the source of our own being is not.

Happiness begets true mystery. Faith is that legacy our cultural past gives us and continues to remain the most effective social sanctuary where men are educated spiritually though rarely succeeding in getting clear at all and of course all that comes with enlightened being and the freedom one finds inside to take one freely along in the outside world, naturally.

The mythologic architecture has its symbolic roots in the conscious source of truth in the final analysis which is the only real reason religion continues to exist as it does today even while expressing in those who attend to its abundant and endless streams of radiant possibilities the worst evils and in fact the highest antithesis of that source from which religion's cornerstone of faith was first manifest for our spiritual purpose.

The Ramones

Spent just over 20 years as trailer park troubadours, never fully succeeding, finding a harsh complex mix of life and alot of opposition from the establishment. Their anarchist philosophy was a beacon to the young and disenfranchised as they reached out to the world and resisted compromising their sound and identity for anyone. Their simplicity and lack of polish created immediate access to a wide and sorely left out fan base who found new strength and will in their presence. To catch their act was to find oneself in awe of what is possible if only one cares enough to go out and face the day.

The recent documentary of interviews portrayed a reality which caught both the sparkle and shine and also the shadows and grime, in an opne and honest way. Very settling to get to watch this morning and if you haven't seen the film on this band airing currently on one of premium channels like HBO or SHO, do yourself a favor and take the time to listen to these people talk about each other and the band to get a flavor of a true American pop musical group's legacy.

One for the Books

It Takes a Highrise to Raise a Child

The design, perfects the argument.
And, plenty exist against a highrise
especially those who desire a village.
Yet, to hear another close by, works.

The magic of nature's omnipresence
seconds man's consciousness of it.
In designed close proximity to man,
is deepest look made into his nature.

The value is an extension and destined.
Evolution necessitates this for survival
as the most reasonable, logical means.
Awake to others is awakening to oneself.

Well designed, a highrise is most natural
Always present to remind you the truth
Like the first telescope used by Gallileo,
any telescope will commonly persuade.

Listen to the soft ramblings of a child
in your introspective eveningtide, aha!
You begin to hear the truth come near,
no purer form of conversation exists.

IBD/2008

Middle Aged Gut Check

Did you hear me whine the last time I was here?
All intel calculates the real before an account says.
Just in, email says I'm $2.5m lotto winner, no lie.
Every offer includes similar lies of variable degree
within all commerce, most especially the retail end.

What about accounting for this economic plight?
The Psychology of Lying states an understanding -
not a method for quantifying, that would be sick.
Only reason to know impact of our lying products
is to rehabilitate consciences that might yet exist.

So then, promised a gut check, I gave you clarity
to the whine, and the design reconciled backend.
The Gut Check, afterthought, today made, comes
in view of a harmonic peaceful humanity envisioned
on how it would be, the ways and means possible.

I stipulate human error and mistakes, justice remains.
Yet as office and power dictate and provide, each of us
our interest must somehow become inspired by this:
Whatever harms naturally, costs the perpetrator love.
Nothing here matters if not for love as the one source.

rjd 9/2008

Middle Age Weirds Ideas (working draft)

Knowing this space I occupy is one with All-Space,
means understanding the relevant essence between
and how All-Space ceases to exist without myspace,
for one. Though I can't see infinity, eternity is nearer.
Once sacred ideas, science is poised to eliminate them
as facts, and without relevance, truer reasons might
measure reality of universe again, with more heart
not less. Absolutes, transcending relevance, was faith
cheating by unscrupulous politics and oppression
as natural of its true influence on human society?

There doesn't yet exist a healthy structure for man
within any society, to contribute value he seeks
thus society remains a fabric of man qua man links
at best, and decisions that define boundaries beyond
our reach, our consciousness, as we believe in voting
in ballots with a majority always the final ruling
over rest, winners over losers, an ironic fact in that
the smallest number always speak for greatest
and without a better idea we hang on to this farce.

Just like religion and less and less science, is this;
that our relevant understanding is completely false
while fact and faith are true possibilities, ideals now;
our knowledge is not active or operational, just belief.
And, ALL belief is foreign, adopted, alien, inauthentic
while original thought has quite the difference in flavor.
So while we in fact vote, we don't vote our own, do we?
It's multiple choice, with arbitrary write-ins ignored.

So, democracy has failed, while founding ideas remain
somehow providing individuals more than belief, hence;
social activism has brought us face to face razing the fence.
And, despite contest of loser's opinions evolving some
the promise fulfilled is purely circumstantial, most miss.
Real evolution, substantial and profound, will require
as many who vote, to suddenly think for themselves
recognize and maybe rally around new idea of governance.

This call then is to all the Ayn Rands, Einsteins, Emersons
alive today, to begin their epic works, and finish, I hope.
I speak in the darkness, though so many have my heart.
Clearly, the numbers as I've presented them don't compute,
don't equate, yet what other route does mankind have left?
Clearly, democracy isn't up to preserving individual liberty
when it's corruptd by those in power and opposing beliefs -
Scarcity, supremacy, cultural isolation, closed mindedness.

But, if not democracy, no ballot to cast our vote, then what?
The answer lies in economic theory and thought, I believe.
Only because, unlike political ideology and governments,
it actually takes account of facts without intrinsic bias,
except those elegantly and simply proven scientifically.
Obviously, here is where this man and Faith separate.
For faith, what's important is recycling every day's events
back into a narrative which is apocalyptic and mythologic.
For me, evolving my being needs honest accounting, to start.

Start speaking, paying your debt, invest, or gamble
until the horizon's fog bank clears its all the same act.
I have no reconciled statement, though alot of red belief.
My beginning will be to integrate higher philosophy
into my economical and financial accounting method,
and explore, leaving everything in play, sitting not.
In short, liquidate, consolidate, and capitalize; be fit.

9/2008, rjd

~For 50 Years Now

Found the woman I've been dreaming of
still putting the pieces together from last one
she was a Timex, I smashed against a tile.
My idea of lickin' was more than mistaken,
a dangerous key, made some sexy debris.

Each day luggs a few pieces I've kept along.
Countless times, I tried and failed the re-fit.
My ritual for recovery of truth, the love lost
by meditation, left over dust is swept to bin
so dream-flame has to ignite and not shatter

my broken heart

A suffering illusion I find or don't, shot out 22
only to have myself picked, served, and trashed
her guilt this time must be framed in my insanity.
Nobody can be wrong so many times, so many ways
about anything, as I have about the ways of women.

to question eye to eye, why love was never enough
to stop her from the decision to abandon me
doesn't happen because so far she's not been honest enough
abandoned by dreamlove, I imagine my insanity growing.

This last time was easier on my physical being but
knowing exactly how little faith and trust her lies concealed
the lying, the contemplated options, just dumping midstream
what reason extends for all before the split aiming to ruin
my happiness?

brutality of betrayal

each bout of illness, love's fever
unhooks all the edges where I hemorrhage
landing me a target for next bus to force what is my
misfortune, so unlucky enough to drop too much
to quickly to roll over under tires near bus stop.
This ICU has brought me closer and closer
to finding that woman, the challenge of heart
so close I know she's hiding, in bit of acting
I saw my dreamflame's twin, scorched mystery
she vanishes in, and the intensity left behind.

There's no denying this debris was my princess
I dreamed and dedicated with faith in truest love.
my timex test
which has kept my romantic dream alive
pinned on a childish belief in Santa Claus.

Pushing pile of rubble into a balled up wreck
as an homage to the dream girl I feel, thru
my illusion, the insanity, how she always runs
and for all 50 years now.

2008 summer on the pier

Love Math

Amid the points of permanence
our identity speaks for itself
a voice of essence, independence.

With a different voice was reason
built, a continuum in balance
and its polarity of transcendence.

Does this zero denominate a kiss
of two lovers we sacrafice, risk;
gain relation, seek infinite center.

The bizarre happens by illusion
when the voice has no listener
or speaks, insincerity believed.

But love, unbounded openness
in its honesty, heard in its song,
clears a space where two unite.

So many points go distant, by
what manner for love's desire
shall unity express itself nigh.

Battle Serious

Do you feel a mystery
as a rank recurring rhythm
that answers fail to question
what remains extant in time?

Does the pain building
felt in feeling, privately dreading
in the night shade coming
shake your slumber then?

This instinctive home sucks
and all and everything, mucks
by and large, by certain thought
when our own habits command.

Understanding it doesn't help
or I would feel no pain now.
Would somebody help correct
path to self, as battle, but serious?

rjd

Things I cannot touch

What touches anything, touches this.
Things I cannot touch, sung on a hilltop
one might find closer more than enough.
While our quick dalliances pique upbeats,
it's the clean self reflected so naturally,
where nature holds special places for us
we never knew, or could, to touch;
touching us, but not us, we touch.

Ask the touching fingers, better yet
what they cannot touch, for answers
we see in life of fish living underwater,
touching water in some greater way
isn't the truth in reverse, a paradox?
Most fish are oblivious and ignorant,
never touching what touches them all.

Where anything expands or contains
just beyond the last stop of mind
this measures in permanent fashion
everything untouchable somehow, not
the shock and awe parlay of our drama
that could just as well conceal pride,
narcissitic boneheading, and denial.
Just because one ignores willingly
doesn't mean never-ever is reality.

IBDubie/6/2008

You Who Never Arrived

Pre: Stumbled over a collection of Rilke tonight and found, You Who Never Arrived, speaking loud enough for me to resonate tonight's version...



There where you remain hidden unseen by me
Your arrival made a bed for my dreams, a fast.
My noon hour pause is one long look and beat
left behind when innocence chased hearts away
singing in patient adoration by window's edge.

A looking where nothing is recognized beyond
your immensity, a paradox that overwhelms.

this space I know, longing

but far-off, deeply-felt ground echoes in mind.
The space for your being is breath I so inhale
for promise, lost from the start, that eludes me.
As you still vanish behind dizzy gaze of corner.

6/2008, rjduberg

Today's Gift

I stopped late in life ...
to look at memories fading less
and gaining ground over the crest
laid on us all like the hand of time.

There's no horror equal or real
to finding what's been, turn back round
your lying, the intent, chasing you down
never letting up, cresting repentance.

Failing your humble understanding of this
how your very soul will haunt you 'til death
creates personal scrooges for some, and I.
I seek forgiving counsel from all I've done in.

And, you see, though the past fades
we can never pretend anything ends.
What I've dispatched, reasons aside,
took an injurious force, my lies a farce lid.

Save me enough time to right my wrongs
and count on me for everything else
you've come to know and trust me for.
... before growing wise was enough.

5/2008, rjduberg

Too Pop Too

How big a lie is our stake in this moment?
Our biggest is expressed possessively, mine.
Is stepping forward into hero's recognition
meeting a soul-mate, giving to the poor?
Life without a moment is beyond our sense.
Will anyone renew life's vital source or remains
by living well this time, free and loving?

When sincerity travels to humility, time ends.
Moments unify and life is only a bigger mystery.
Further on, the roll stops in an upward rise.
Our true stake is language, the tool of relation.
Nothing survives unless we keep all things equal.
Juggling words is a spiritual art for these fliers,
where used and discarded never slows down.

For those who spoke up for me when I forgot this
you live for this bollox and its bloody endlessness.
Recycling energy, and the silence of time, these
are warrants offered that lay waiting for what lies.
How dull today, how bloody awful and tired, what
can make this discrete two pop into one mind?

5/2008, rjd

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~Light of Otherwise

I have committed acts, walked naked by choice
outside in the dark blanket of heavy snowfall.
That rosy path, with thorns of wrath, our nemesis...

I know I've stumbled upon it so many times
it no longer shocks me to lose my mind.
Nobody is safe from the demons of sleep.

I've less strength than ever, to stay awake
for being eternal; that, and nothing less,
resolves the issue in a balanced polarity.

Victims like confusion with loss of function
which doesn't get noticed; while false engages
everyone with horror, blinders hasten the decline.

Excuses and complaints form this path to hell.
Our worst denigration, groggy sleep, its passage.
Logic suggests non-dualism stops bleeding, rose.

I endlessly search for such mental expedience,
for consolidating mountains of debt, past due;
without any promise my home is where I left it.

In the seizing of every moment to purely act,
never running from consequences, this creativity
describes being, a force and influence; learning.

Purity of truth defies all common sense attempts
in response to limiting hell, by not venturing back
across boundaries while keeping an eye on fence.

A fence separating our lives from being identified,
summarizing life's memory and its influence here
to choice, the act, and our escape from mechanical.

Evolution's Ghost walks the bloody rose lane to death.

As long as I do not go to sleep and observe opposition
taking my best shots at finding orbits' flat burn release.
When that opportunity comes, the choice will be made.

Keep teaching yourself to turn along with the world;
if persistent, one's roll will eventually preside inside
as grandest map possible, paid in thorn's pricking pain.

There's no simple way to say non-word of eternal light.
Neither word can be heard, nor shadow of light seen.
So it goes... words from elsewhere light the otherwise.

5/10/2008, rjd

~The Spiral

What could that possibly mean about writing for me
to say that finding freedom in rhetorical expression
is central and or at the core of my poetry's aesthetic?

When use of rhetorical style becomes a habit of pursuit
perhaps freedom is lost much like mileage to gas hike,
knowing freedom's purchase requires higher resources
relativity at work in the most basic sense, felt as free.

But not...

And to maintain freedom in one's life evolves a process
with another degree of will signaling an actual potential
and applying that will, effectively, gains a right to surreal.

Freedom is an interpretation about higher awareness
when focus finds chaos decreasing in rise of certainty
leveling odds create circumstance resonating harmony.

Oddly enough, it is precisely in this situation of freedom
where the only result can be reversal of such fortune.
and so it goes... with perfect ascension's formal spiral.

5/2008, rjd