Running Man

Last night I could really run again.
It seems I could run faster and faster
without ever tiring, just imagine —
how exhilarating to run like the wind!

I ran past the corner saxophone player.
The crowd was engrossed, they applauded
the solo performance, then put money in his hat.
They didn’t notice, but as I passed I took the music
with me, I took the cymbal, but left the drums.

I passed a big barking dog with a wagging tail,
he tried to keep up but was left in the dust.
I didn’t look back, I had places to go.

I ran past dark clouds gathering over the town,
maybe I would outrun the rain. Looked like a storm
was just dead ahead, but I ran past the meaning
of that phrase, I ran past the explanations.

I ran past black birds in the middle of the highway.
They were pecking at some nondescript roadkill.

Nothing wrong with that of course — everything
in this wild hungry place has to eat, it’s a luxury
for those who can pick and choose, who can go
down to the supermarket and handle the fruit,
but I was running so fast that I couldn’t stop.

Soon I was passing the leaning oak tree
where the old bearded man sits on a branch.

He called out to me but I just kept going, I knew
what he was about to say, I have heard it before,
when push comes to shove I don’t care anymore.

I ran right off the page at last, past the beautiful words
and what they can’t say, I once tried to say it anyway,
even as I ran through the milk and honey, ran through
the fabric of celestial light, ran through the soft cage
of accountants busy tabulating my bill, ran through
the final appeal, ran through the condemned man’s
last meal without taking a bite, it didn’t seem right.

I ran through the scribbled list of things I’d forgotten,
ran through the faces of people I had briefly known,
ran through their thoughts, hopes, their dreams
though I’m no longer much good at remembering names.

I ran through messages that were never answered
written on pages I never read, ran through the books
of the living dead, ran through the letters contained
in one word, the word I was shouting out loud as I ran.

I forget it now, like so many things, I don’t know
what it even means, I just keep running, faster and faster
without ever tiring — how exhilarating to run like the wind!

 

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View Finder

1.

Appearing here in the midst of things,
doesn’t it all seem so vivid and real?

Hard to believe it’s all like a dream,
hard to believe that we are too —
phantom figments, ghostly apparitions
without substance or lasting endurance.

Why is that so hard to believe?

It’s hard to believe because
it is not really true.

It’s just another made-up story,
another shifting point of view.

No view is true, nor any belief,
even the ones which we hold dear.

Since nothing here is certain
let’s fall in love with uncertainty,
it beats our neurotic romance with fear.

Just don’t get caught, that is all —
don’t get caught in any view.

Relax and enjoy the view or not,
it’s up to you, to view or not,
to believe or not, just
always remember:

don’t get caught.

2.

Notice how our opinion of things
changes like the weather.

Every time we look in the mirror
we see somebody different.

Maybe we’re in love today, or maybe
we want to settle some grudge, exercise
the nuclear option on an imaginary offender.

When we take our views seriously, life itself
responds by switching from fluid to solid.

It happens automatically:

the walls go up, now they’re closing in,
the sun has slipped behind the clouds,
the deck seems stacked against us.

Regardless of our deity of choice,
our prayers will go unanswered.

We gravitate towards despair,
why does life seem so unfair?

Perhaps we’ve heard about it,
maybe read about it too —
is this the famous dark soul night
the holy ones must all pass through?

Beyond our self-important vanities,
there’s something here to contemplate:

although we may seem miserable,
in fact we secretly love such fate.

After all, misery does have an upside —
it confirms our personal existence
the more forlorn we feel.

“Just look at me, wearing a frown —
I’m so lonesome I must be real!”

3.

We wonder if things are sacred or not.
Does life have a special meaning?

Depending on our current view,
we may think so or not.

No matter what we happen to think,
we are always already mistaken.

Nothing here is really what it seems
and yet it is not different, nor can it be
explained away by names attributed to it.

Even imaginary things have their own beauty.
Every empty illusion is another version of truth.

We say there’s a face behind every mask,
but the mask itself is also the face.

We bathe in the sea of our own grace!

Before we arrived, everything shone
with its own sacred light.

Why do we bother showing up?

Because we are already shining,
even here, in the depths of the night.

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Teilhard’s Waking Dream

Stellar winds swept the galactic plain, pushing their world
into a new cosmic space, shifting the collective vibration
higher, drawing every mind deeper into the great mystery
as brainwaves entrained to higher resonant frequencies
in the cavity formed between the planet’s surface
and the conductive ionosphere surrounding it.

Debating scientists proposed various theories,
but when the sound of silence was harmonized at last,
the ensuing resonance appeared internally in the form
of a radiant luminosity which ebbed and flowed
with the surging of resonant love waves.

The more intense the love waves, the more minds lit up
until the various warring factions spontaneously surrendered
their weapons, returned to their homes singing joyous love songs,
embracing each other along the way, and exchanging little poems
that spoke of the heart’s yearning and its inevitable satisfaction.

Soon all of the sciences were impregnated by a vibrant mysticism
as the love waves carried them to the threshold of a new reality
where the rainbow-like range of spirit was ever-expanding,
all fascination with the lower shades finally abandoned.

It was only towards infinity now that the creation of light
advanced in its shine, until the day would come when
the divine energies of love at last would be harnessed,
“and on that day, for the second time in the history
of the world, man will have discovered fire.”

 

fire man

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Medic

Regardless of how we would like things to be
this world is a war zone, a virtual slaughter house

Yes, it is perfect as it is, but few understand
what that really means: “perfection”

This stage itself and all of its props were designed
with one aim in mind, and they do their jobs
without praise or blame, “perfectly”

Every so often a Medic appears on the battlefield
they are just a figure appearing in a dream, bearing
dream medicine, dream relief for the dreamers

In this particular dream, she is called
“The Transcendent Conquering Goddess”

Why?

Because she reveals the Far-Reaching Perfection
of Discerning Wisdom in a Single Word

And so, thus:

“AH”

Astasahasrika_Prajnaparamita_Image_of_Prajnaparamita

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One Heart

As the archaeologists descended further into the subterranean cave, they eventually came upon the primitive wall art from untold millennia ago that depicted scenes from the good old days. Yes, there we were, you and I, running across the open plain as if it was just yesterday. In reality, that’s what it was, is now, and ever will be. Here we are as definitive proof!

Time is a paradox that way. Even when we piloted the long starships gliding across the galaxy, it still seemed utterly miraculous — that we were melded together in this eternal dance, synchronized in our breathing, intoxicated by the intimacy of a sudden glance, a smile, a touch, a constant shared heartbeat — one heart appearing in the form of two, running across an open plain, drifting through the starry fields, phasing out of time at last, loving beyond description.

There was the time in the Reindeer Land when I found you huddled in the snow. A blue moon was rising above the forest, the calls of the hunters competed with the roaring winds, but I recognized you in your bundle of skins, you said my name, how did you know? I found my Beloved again that life, a life that we now remember well, because the northern wind is strong again, and we are cuddled here in our shelter.

The gates to the heavens are manifold. Together we have passed through them and returned again. This is what we do, it seems, though I have no clue why we come back here, except to find each other once more — yes, that must be the reason. I will follow and find you wherever you are, just as you do with me. Sometimes I pause to write your name on the walls of our cave, in the snow, in the stars – wherever we are I will praise and adore you, you who are the heart of me, the soul and radiant deity!

We come in every manner of shape – once you were a bird and I was a snake, once you were a leopard and I was a deer, once you were a peacock and I was your call, you called to yourself and I answered. In the gardens of the capricious gods, you were Gardenia and I was your fragrance, I was thorn and you the Rose, then I was Winter and you were Spring, and together we bid the Summer come forth, and together we turned to Autumn.

We wait here now for the storm to pass, singing the little songs we once knew, when the open plain was our garden of grace, and we held each other, whirling in place, and the full moon rose in the sky so bright, and we tumbled together throughout the long night, and the wild creatures howled and the night birds sang, and believe me I’d do it all over again if it came to that and maybe it will, my Darling Love, I’ll be with you still!

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Traveling Light

During the night as we soundly slept
our house embarked on a journey through space
we knew when we woke that something had changed
when we looked out the window old Saturn flew by
it was just like the pictures but of course much bigger
we checked the kitchen, the fridge was still running
we decided on bagels, cream cheese and lox
brewed up some coffee, it was out of this world
we enjoyed the peace deep space can provide
our canary was singing, Easter was near
Mazie baked beer bread while I
scrolled through the memes, inspiration
was overflowing as we passed by Neptune
we stood by the window to gaze at the scene
our old dog was napping, dreaming of dinner
at this stage of life he is focused on food
perhaps were not so different that way
tonight as we leave the solar system behind
we’ll fry up some chicken and down a fine wine

 

Tomáš Sejkora‎ house on a journey

(Picture by Tomas Sejkora)

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The New Old Testament

Down came hot strikes from the fiery skies

Down came truths which would later be lies

Down came the ships filled with live cargo

Down came words with their magical glow

Down came a silence extinguishing words

Down came the insects, lizards, and birds

Down came the kiss of perpetual burning

Down came souls to inhabit that yearning

Down came the flames of molten desire

Down came judgment, trailing bright fire

Down came the waters that washed all away

Down came the roles we were given to play

Down came ignorance, envy, and hate

Down came deception to make us great

Down came the seeds of a conflagration

Down came the world-wide immolation

Down came hot strikes from the fiery skies

Down came truths which would later be lies

Down came a slaughter with no one to blame

Down came the blaze from atomic rain

Down came the curtain, though it never ends

Down we returned to try it again

Down came the Garden of Paradise

Down came temptation, but now let’s think twice

 

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