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The Great Benefactor

The Great Benefactor

Somewhere within
Exists
A great benefactor
Would you perceive it
As a woman or a man?

Who cares what our perception is?

Lets shuffle the binary deck
Let’s roll the duplicitous dice
Snake eyes!
You now glow in the dark
And ask
Why hatred, fear, death
And all the sadness
If GOD were a nice guy

I think I know the answer
Only drowning souls can see him
So say the great benefactor
Ball don’t lie

Love is the only sanskara
That won’t let go
What should I say
GOD created itself?

I now am humbled before
The great provider
The great leader
Of the caravan
The great finagler of the impossible
The great architect of the soul

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Flower Of Eternal Love Number 9

Flower Of Eternal Love Number 9

No matter what treasure
What power
What pleasure
Whatever rationalized explanation
Is being sold or offered
Or pre-packaged for consumption
With an unapologetically presumptuous design

(If you stray across that line
You can’t get your money back
And there are plenty of penalties and fines
And unpayable debts to be paid
Back)

It’s nearly unanimous
And embarrassingly unwise
To betray the one who loves you
But bold men go where angels fear to tread
Bold men go
And stupid men tread

In the name of the further
And the soon
And the consummate surrender
To grasp that longing
In the loins of your mind
That’s flowing through your veins your blood
Overflowing
Lifting every hair on your flesh
Down to the base of your primordial spine
Springing up
With your reason to be
Here
In your mind
With your reason to believe
My treasure
My pearl
In the silence of your newly found
Flower of eternal love
Number 9

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On A Soapbox For Know It Alls

On A Soapbox For Know It Alls

My fellow assholes
I have something to say to you
You know who you are

Take it as a high honor
As a white badge of shining light
If far left and right, radical
Ultra maoist hail hitler centurion
Wannabe jail-keepers
Censor your ass

Take it as a gift from GOD
Take it as a 21 gun
Salute from the soul
Before
The 21st gun is shot

Take the 21st bullet
Into the depth of your heart
But the soul doesn’t die

I need for you to dance
Not just tap your toe
I feel it in my stars
I feel it in your rock and roll
I feel like I owe it all to someone
Something,
In this prison without bars
On a soapbox for know it alls
From the hollows of my soul

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A Different Kind Of King

A Different Kind Of King

Not every person’s
Station in life
Reflects the quality
Of what they say

I’ve heard heads of state
Say stupid things
You’d normally attribute to a 5 year old
Nyah-nyah-na-boo-boo

And then a nothing man
Name of Rodney King
Comes waltzing through
And oh by the way
“Can we all just get along?”

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You Alone Exist # 58215

You Alone Exist # 58215

You alone know my inner pain
What can anyone else know?
Heavenly Father
You do all that is beautiful and true
Who should I call a liar?
You who pervade
And are the source of all
Love
My savior
Everyone is meditating on you
Everyone begs from you
Whether they know it or not
All are under your control
All kneel to your power and authority
Eventually
He is a He and He is a She
My king
All will merge and be absorbed
Back into you
Beloved Father
You alone exist

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Involution Revelation

Involution Revelation

I can’t put it into words but
The kundalini is the kundalini
Think tesla
All along the base of the sushumna
The ida and the pingala
The living experiential
Igniter of
The inner truth masterpiece
Yin and yang
Awareness ablaze
Saint of energy
Adi shakti
Coiled up in the spine
At the wedding feast
In cana
In estacada
In nature’s palace
Inebriated with holy wine
In a veiled synaptic
Involution revelation
The Individual within all individual
Ocean drops
In the forbidden words of alice
Think you got yourself a winner
Row row row your boat
Gently down the infinite river
Down the infinite gurdwara freeway
Where the guru’s shabad saturates
The soul with bliss
Where the lord’s perfect truth roars
Like a lioness
Like the brilliant white tantra
Of the soul

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The Show Must Go On

The Show Must Go On

So what if you’re heart is broken
It will heal
It will live again
It will rise
And stream like sunlight
Through the land of rock and roll
Once again
Like the land of eternal sunshine
Opened in your soul
Like the ridiculous
Answer
We’re somehow required to know
Even if it’s as a fill in
For another show

That must go on…

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My Room

I’m taking about that special place
Where race and creed and
Sociocultural struggles
Do not exist
Where hearts don’t break
A place where people find
Their happinesses
Amidst what they can do to give,
Where it’s do unto others
As you would have them do unto you
Where work is worship
Art a prayer
Found in a book of white pages
With no names

Unto the one almighty
Infinite lord of musicality
Where the EYE of eyes shall see
And every knee shall bend
What would a world
Without prisoners do?

But take me back to the source
Without any beginning or end
Pull the shades down
Inside of me
Light a candle so I can see
Pull your heart down slowly
To my room

Thank goodness GOD is love

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The Dharma Of The Everything

The Dharma Of The Everything

Work is worship
Especially service thought undignified
But success invites failure
And failure success
While everybody’s at the soiree
There is no religion
But politics
Or there’s nothing but religion

Which is a bridge
Which is a precipice
Which leads to peace
(The person, not the state)
Which leads to the liberation
Of the soul
Which leads to all the grand vistas
Chock full of beautiful
Delectable diabolical
Forms of emptiness
As a goal
With all the buried confidantes
Of hate to lift the latch
Trying to resist
The drama of the NOTHING
In deference to
The dharma
Of the EVERYTHING

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Smile On ( ) Face

Smile On ( ) Face

Innocent
Ignorant
Bombastic
Intellectual

Then I
Made the catch
But jumped into the bullpen ocean
Unlatched the latch
But broke the heart
At the sacroiliac
Nothing describes someone’s loss or sorrow
GOD and they
Only know

Kamikaze cosmonaut
Fluffing up the frills
Of a new day tutankhamun treasure
In the see through afterglow
A grateful bow to her grace
See what lands
If you need to rock and roll
A great big smile on ( ) face

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We’re Unprepared

We’re Unprepared

When what preparedness is
Is unknown
Or impossible
Or even a lie
Who’s to blame for not preparing?

3 generations from now
Will there still be 8 billion
Or 500 million
Or 50 billion
If any at all
People around?

If you lose control
Can’t even rock and roll
Just act confident
And bold
As if you’re with it

Let the true history
Of the past
Be exposed
As the future
Sooner or later
Will admit it

And if you have a drum
Pick up the heart beat of pure love
The deepest purple coronets
Of faith
Put a smile on a downtrodden face
And may GOD bless and protect
The whole human race

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The Nature Of Learning

The Nature Of Learning

We can’t hate away hatred
Our only hope is love
There are no excuses
But there are levels of culpability
And so evil men go free
And good men get sentenced
Rich men are praised
Sanitizing themselves
In media-centric praises
While poor men get censored

Condoned men have a lineage
And down trodden men
Are cut off short in mid career
Even the nothing they have
Rears its ugly head and bites them
Rich men get laid
Poor men become problems
Eventually

They can have their perfect world
Based on power, money
Corrupt authority and greed
They can have their perfect prisons
Seeking Utopia
They’re on a desperate mission
Truth, what’s truth?
Love is a glandular transmission

With falsely humble superiority
Just presumed
But never spoken
Not understanding
What the real nature of poverty is
In the unloved and in the broken
Legends in their own minds
Justified by a misdirected intellect
Of experts
Filling their own imaginary kingdoms
With incomplete and assumed ideology
They waste away their own life,
But such is the nature of learning

Featured

Tiny Doses

Tiny Doses

In obedience to GOD
Most times I wind up
Just offending people
It depends a lot
On who decides what obedience is
And who holds the gold

That’s why it’s important
To humble ourselves
Before the Creator
Of all creation
You may find you need
To take a break sometime
As you sell what you got
And you buy what’s sold

All worldly treasure is transient
All worldly pleasure ends
We are remnants imbedded, engrained
Interwoven
Somewhere in Consciousness
If not degraded
Tattooed, carved out in granite
In digital palaces of light
In kindnesses
In rainbows with genuine pots of gold
Not guarded by demons
Or greedy green leprechauns

You are never without a friend
Just knock and the door shall be opened to you
Seek, and you shall find

I am in the dark and out in the open
I try to speak
What’s never spoken
To all the children left behind

We had to figure out what’s up –
Was the universe our manifest destiny?
He laughed and said it’s all about
The multifarious drops conceived
Bubbling up from the core
Of the deep blue infinite ocean
Of humans arriving at the station
We just don’t know we’re there yet

He didn’t hang around for any honors
Or flood us with evangelistic pornography
He did not cause discord or dismay
Or destroy in disarray
He said
Selfless service is the doorway to eternal bliss
For the kingdom of GOD

(Where the silence is
Has been and always will be
Forever eternally spoken
In silence broken
Called infinite love)

Is at hand…

I’m in the basement
I’m in the attic
Where I hide
Under the static

I’m a stallion
I’m a boxer
Watch me rise
I’m a pop star
Where ‘er
Her silent signature
Resides

I wouldn’t like
My incorporation
Whether it be in pictures
Or creative discourses
That might appear
In using the name
Or pictorial darshan
Of Meher Baba
As a tool
To somehow validate or invalidate
The sunshine or the rain
Or to make a common bell
Ring richer… truer
In an otherwise hackneyed
Neo-religious
Socio-cultural refrain

But to give everyone I can
A particle of hope
In tiny doses
For the Avatar of our age…

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Who Holds The Gold

Who Holds The Gold

In obedience to GOD
Most times I wind up
Just offending people
It depends a lot
On who decides what obedience is
And who holds the gold

That’s why it’s important
To humble ourselves
Before the Creator
Of all creation
You may find you need
To take a break sometime
As you sell what you got
And you buy what’s sold

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The Epitome Of Love

The Epitome Of Love

The soul is neither young nor old
Good or bad
Male or female
White or black
Happy or sad

Yet is individually unique
In an unnamable
Remarkable way
That only GOD can see
And those that GOD allows to see
Through the eyes of love

One of the reasons i believe
In reincarnation
Is because of all those times
I find myself
Saying to myself

“Give me a do over
With a few more of the facts
With a couple extra details
With a liberal sprinkling of lessons learned,
And i can do much better”

And the irish named it a mulligan or a murphy
Or something
Some kind of law –
Seems as though
When GOD made us the namers
The Irish took it to heart

We have to experience all things
And it takes approximately 60,000,000 lifetimes
Because one of the major differences
Between the consciousness
Of a human and that of a chimpanzee
Is that a human
Can not only think of GOD
But has at least the capacity
To both realize and transcend GOD
And to deeply love GOD

Something a chimp
As it’s soul now stands
Can’t do
Not meaning the soul of humans
And that of a chimpanzees
Are not ultimately one and the same anyway
GOD manifested into the experience
Of itself becoming GOD –
The epitome of love

As is often somehow stated:
True love is no romance
Of flowers and candy
True love requires
Our hearts be broken thoroughly
Then resurrected back up again
In the name of the Lord

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GOD’s Face

GOD’s Face

Every individual contains
A unique aspect of GOD’s love

It’s up to us
To find it
Cultivate it
And express it

All unhappiness springs
From the struggle
Or inability to express love

Currently
Most of us are desensitized
And hardened
By the deception
Of illusion and delusion
And can only feel emotional love
If that

Numbed to life
Numbed to GOD
Numbed to each other
Trying to feel GOD
Through the facilities
And limitations of the 5 senses
Invents GOD
Dramatizes GOD
And Kills GOD

Our brain
Even with all it’s capacity
Serves to modulate primarily
By the fear of not existing
And its many forms of death
Rather than reveal pure reality

If our consciousness was
Not filtered with
The brain’s modulation
We would see GOD’s face
As it really IS

Much too much beauty
For us to bear

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Prove I’m Not A Robot

Prove I’m Not A Robot

I’m frequently being asked
Online
To prove I’m not a robot
Even just to log into my own email now
And so surreptitiously began
Back in the background distance
No one noticed
The way things always appeared
To always begin to happen
In those days from nowhere spun
The robot wars of long ago
Prior history
Having misremembered the old adage
Somewhere entombed
In the fog of algorithms
“You got your good robots
And you got your bad robots”
An ID and password apparently
Are no longer enough
You have to now be able to
Distinguish yourself from being a robot
Almost like a super clever chimpanzee might
The pictures that have fire hydrants
Or like a dog
Searching for the proper parking meters
We’re lucky to even see
Yeah, prove to me you’re not
A program written
Without any access
To common human courtesy
Shouldn’t it be
The other way around?
Shouldn’t the robots
Have to prove we’re not human
To answer one impossible random question
Something a robot
Neither good nor bad
Ever wants to hear

Why should we do all the work
Endlessly under suspicion
Shift option delete escape

Program ending…

Featured

A Sense Of Darkness

A Sense Of Darkness

1

In this archetypical mansion
There is plenty more room
On the web
For the climb
Up archetypical towers
Down hollywood and vine
Where there is no now
But change
Rushing up and down
The kundalini spine

And you want it with flowers
And you fake it
With a razor blade of lies
It makes a nice tool
Has a harvard business school like
Litany of
Overwhelming trust in power and control
The path a serial sociopath might take
Who wants the darkness darker
With all the hunger that it takes

2

O cause of causes

Object of our life

Fate of all fates

Architect of destiny

May we be blessed
With the precious darshan
Of your abundant magnanimity

May we give up
The sense of “mine” and “yours”
The sense of our differences
The sense of darkness
And begin to celebrate
Our one soul’s unity
In love’s most precious light

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Violet’s Delight

Violet’s Delight

Nothing is forever but consciousness
I heard it in a love song
Romanced and danced and entranced
Just how does one decline
The keys to the city
Of inner treasures?

Are we the tools
Or are we the wise
To kiss the ring
To throw away the jewels
To never smell the flowers
Or cast roses
Or blow kisses like liars
Laying dollars at the feet
Of “The Nothing”
But the truth diamonds lightning
Deep into the nonexistent wires
Streaming
Through the crux of everything

You love the birds and the shore
And the air and the land
And the moon soaked star drenched
Deep violet flowers

And like a fool
I let you show me
Some of the many
Wondrously addictive adventures
Radiating out from within
Your violet’s delight

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Fist (Final)

Fist

Unpack my gloves
Lace the ties
I made mistakes
I didn’t think were mistakes at the time
I said things
That should have never been said
I was silent
When I should have been outspoken
I was cloudy
When I thought I was bright
I used good-bye
As my secret deadly weapon
Worse than any fist
Across the face

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Incarnation

Incarnation

We imagine we have forever
In this body
In this lifetime
We happily prefer
To conveniently disremember
All the analytics and statistics
Relative to the 100% possibility
Of our someday dying
Often up to the very last
Breath breathed
Still reflecting
Our gross ego
Burying ourselves in ourselves
With the many illusory things
That clutter up
An otherwise clueless life
Foregoing the real jewels
And hidden treasures
For all those transitory trinkets
Of what’s fleeting
Here today gone tomorrow
In the prisons we build
In all the love
That we think, wish
And dream we make
Too much of
The same old story
We finally dive
Off the platform of surrender
Into another mainline lifetime
Ocean of one truth
One conception
One victory
One resurrection
One answer
Innumerable exemplifications
One death
And one life through generations
Incarnation by incarnation
Poco y poco
The kid gloves come off
The blood of the lamb
Passing through another avenue in time
Searching for the lost ambrosial treasure
Searching the nectar
As the lotus blossom slowly opens
With the radiance of divine mercy
Without shame or reservation
For fear of some devastating failure
Or a selfish pride we cling to
Having waited in line
Waylaid
At imagination station
So as to hit the mark
Spot on dime
Dead nuts
Without volition
Or reflection
As is tradition
As if we were just actors on a stage
With permanent masks
Trying to disguise
The same hidden fear
Spawned by true believers
As to our intrinsic irrelevance
And our apparently vast insignificance

Or to reveal a bejeweled
Beloved splender
Holding divine office incognito
In the heart
Of the prison mind

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The Path Of Love

The Path Of Love

It’s easy to be critical
Of the criticized
With a slight prejudicial lean
Based upon questionable claims
And sloppier assumptions
What’s based on truth
Seems to be more difficult
The more sane I am
The more I am insane

Take this junk heap pile
Of information
Take it to the cemetery
Take it to the grave
It’s GOD’s will
If it’s GOD’s will
Then nothing can destroy us

So here’s a pound of pain
A pound of pleasure
My soul’s symphony
My box of rain
Making a new song blossom
Onward
Better than ever
As the silence
Of Meher Baba Is proclaimed

I was missing in action
Tired of the gun
I can’t do any more
And it’s hard to forget
I’m not in control of my life
Gave up whatever for whatever
Just like your fingerprint
Just like your DNA
Everyone gets there
Through whichever life
Inspires one’s self delusional
Existence
To remove another veil
To our own beauty
Now ascertained

I’m having an ego attack
I have to write
Flip a coin any coin
Can any worldly ego truly
Supersede
GOD’s most infinite light?
We’re so smart
We occasionally out smart ourselves

We find that when it really matters
There is no voice
There is no chatter
And there is no black and white

That never-ending everlasting kiss
Within a silent wave
Across the sleeping lake
Of blossoming unconsciousness to consciousness
Just a will-o-the-wisp like illumination
A brush of tender lips
That inner
That ancient
Illumination server, time traveler
Upon this magic light speed autobahn
They sometimes call
THE PATH OF LOVE

But the path goes on forever
This cosmic drenched galactic pineal throne
Star-rider, perfect stranger
Dripping hidden secrets
From the one eye
Beaming through the rift within
The spark of consciousness
Innate within the nothingness
The crowning jewel
The king of kings
As is written in the scroll of every stone

Of what’s divine is all forgiving
Even if we give up the fight
Even if we have no need of him
Even if we’ve said SAT NAM a million times
And said 10,000 rosaries
In the beginning
Even if we drank the blood
And ate the flesh
Of the Avatar
The only thing
That is really existing
Even if we’ve died
A thousand deaths
Of many
Famous fabulous mausoleum incarnations
Don’t worry be happy
When you’ve lost it all

The universe
Is locked within
This tantra
This conflagration of love
Who’s name is consciousness in realization –
The secret silent blaze
In every soul – I call
The silence of Meher Baba

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You Dreamer Of Dreams

You Dreamer Of Dreams

Old nursery rhyme:
Before liberation – chop wood, carry water
After liberation – chop wood, carry water

Your selfishness
Is my own selfishness
Held responsible for each other
We cannot run and hide
And claim and blame
And wheel and deal
And mask and lie
And build and mend the walls
Just to tear them down again and again
With the price more often than not
Paid with the currency
Of human tradgedy
And suffering
And slavery
Built into the circuitry
Of the new dehumanization
Just to reinitiate the eye of the cycle
Just to build
The same but different walls back up
Stronger again

Now taking passengers
All aboard
Price fully paid
Bursting at the seams
Stirred in with ambrosial
Nectar mutations and memes
Transfixed in the chimes
Nestled aboard celestial wind’s
Fecund breeze
Reflected in the crystal mirror sheen

You inner knower
You searcher of hearts
You home for the homeless
You dreamer of dreams

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Jivatma Om Shiva

Jivatma Om Shiva

This state of concurrent awareness
Or where we are
In our
Inner march
Assimilating the language of the synapse
The sacred wine
The eternal bouquet
The ubiquitous mind –

Jivatma om shiva

Taking notes
Harboring decisions
Processing claims
Compiling composites
Outlining random far flung extrapolations
Scrutinizing the unapparent
Calculating every involuntary
Twitch of a nerve
And eventually
A bold initiation
An agreed upon rendezvous
Pushing onward
Focusing inward upward
To the next rung
Of wisdom’s rooftop tongue –

Jivatma om shiva

Those are the rules
I didn’t make them up
Who do I need to bribe?
Can I get a witness?
Consciousness is everywhere
In everything
It knows and is
It loves and is the source of love
The one and only love
With an unending depth of expression
Manifested through our very next breath –

Jivatma om shiva

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After Chinese

After Chinese

If there wasn’t a creator
Before creation
There is one now
Without the tricks of the trade
Without the frame by frame
Imperceptible jabs and hooks
Or the hacks
With the silent invisible names
With no ropes or digits
Or chains
No wires or scissors
Or DNA strands or strains
Of human brains
And certainly no religion
That old man river
Quasi quantum liberation
Post delusional
Fame infused glamor jaded
Eager to surrender
Stepped upon a covert crack
Not to interrupt the games

Immaculate mary
Our hearts are on fire
As we dabble
In the glitter
Groveling in the ash
In noncompliant sparks
And electrical
Chargers, flickers and connections
With impressively thick wads
Of self detonating cash
While mixing yet another cocktail
Fix in illusion
At a minuscule rendezvous crossroads
Burned through like one consecrated
Concise
Prick of a tantric laser focused
Burning branding tattoo
Thousand petal lotus
Just relax
In a space/time vortex consortium
Through the ancient silent salient
Fortune cookie proclamation
Portal
After chinese
Comes this very special announcement:

Great good fortune now awaits us all
And we’ve just begun to dance

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The New Jamboree

The New Jamboree

After having read GOD SPEAKS
Seven times
Yet after only one true read
Was lifted out of hell
And dropped into heaven
So it behooves me to testify
As my offering of obedience
About the science of the silence
Eternally spoken
That has no description
Yet is ceaselessly described

Hold tight to his dhaman
In GOD I trust –
I bow to the religionless religion
Written in the blood and guts
Written in the roots
Pulsing up
In the ecstasy
Shouting out from within each bloom
Shouting out from the dawn of light
Caveman looking for some burning bright
Algorithms in tight genes
Rolled up in an endless sea
Of bubbles bubbling
Boiling over
In imagination
From the lowest of the low
To the highest of the high
Like the dust
Of the dust
Of the gurus feet All in praise of the ancient one
In the new jamboree

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Miracle Dot

Miracle Dot

Connecting the wrong dot
Is always wrong
But sometimes better
A slow flower unfurling
To a lowly worm
Through an occasional
Poorly chosen miracle dot
How’s the weather?

All these great deep modules of wisdom
I keep telling myself
Are mere steps
On the rungs of Jacob’s ladder
Wishing you your health

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The Hidden Deal

The Hidden Deal

Here’s the deal

You suffer long and hard
Including intermittent joy
And delusional happiness
That appears to be eternal
But never is
Then, after
60,000,000
Countless fantasy lifetimes
From the sub sub semi-quantum
Particle
Of a whim
Lasting fractions of a second
Onward and upward
From stone to metal
From metal to vegetable
From vegetable to worm
From worm to fish
From fish to bird
From bird to mammal
And finally to human being;
And after 8.4 million lives as human,
Woman and man, rich and poor
Great and bad
Happy and sad
And everything in between
You get to be one with GOD
And by all accounts
It’s perfectly beautiful
Ineffable and eternal…

Now what?

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Albert Einstein On Human Consciousness

“A human being is a part of the whole called by us universe, a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feeling as something separated from the rest, a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty.”

– Albet Einstein –

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Swinging At Baloney

Swinging At Baloney

The GOD of major league
Baseball hitters
Namely “Dhani”
Told a certain batter
On a certain major league baseball team
Who has hit lots of
Prodigious home runs

Channeling
“Dhani” pronounced “Donnie”
Explained to this certain hitter
Before his recent mild resurgence
To look to go up the middle and to the right –
Up the middle and to the right
And don’t go back
Until it comes back to you
Don’t go chasing the Dragon (home run)
Lest it comes to you
Otherwise you’ll be swinging at baloney
The rest of your career

It’s difficult
To go through times
When it appears
No one or nothing loves us,
But nearly impossible
To endure times
When we can love no one
But ourselves
Or not
Whether we’re swinging at baloney
Or honing in on
The crack of the Truth

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One Sudden Moment

One Sudden Moment

For one sudden moment
The world is perfection
And not only with a transitory perfection
But with a never ending perfection

Then that sudden moment’s gone

How many doors have we closed
Only to find that sudden moment
Is the only door truly open
We work so hard
Trying to forget
The nameless, formless, religionless
Source of all love
Beauty and destiny
Nameless beyond existence
Thought to be
The original originator
Many refer to as GOD
The source of everything
Without and within

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The So Called Soul

The So Called Soul

A poet is just a teacher
Without many
Of the standard
And the unexpected
Constraints of teaching
Like if there’s somebody there or not
Teaching the philosophy
Of the so called soul

Not a news maker
Nor a suicide renegotiator
Not a faux
Self proclaimed revolutionary innovator
Not a judge
Not a pre-trained self ordained people hater
Nor an indoctrinated cryptic thug
Out for blood
Out for slinging mud
Out for dirt
Out for hurt

Out for control
Out for power
Call it secular peculiarism
Starts out with the original lie
That there is no cognizant source
Of consciousness now
No absolutely sacred power
Call it sunshine
Call it a fact of being
Call it the silence
When silence is finally spoken
Call it a human paradise
Who am I
To say

GOD only knows

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The Mind Of A Vegetable

The Mind Of A Vegetable

God loves a cheerful giver
God loves a trusted heart
Your beloved dhaman
I held on to

I asked
With all sincerity
Do machines like forklifts
Now have consciousness?

Yes they do
He replied
But from an extremely
Rudimentary METAL state
Like having a gold coin
In your pocket
However
With the stipulation
That consciousness
In that form
That in someway serves
To assist humankind
Or any benevolent kind
As a mostly metal tool does
Means that its soul is probably
Using a form
Somewhere near ending
Sentience
In a highly advanced
METAL state
And somewhere near beginning
Its move to the mind of a vegetable

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In Honor Of Katharine Drexel

Katharine Drexel was born to one of America’s wealthiest and most distinguished families. (Her grandfather was the senior partner to a young J. P. Morgan; her distant nieces included Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis.) Katharine led a pampered childhood, and few expected more from her than a world tour, marriage, children, and fashionable pursuits.
When their parents died, the three Drexel sisters inherited the bulk of their massive estate. To the disbelief of Philadelphia society, Katharine decided to become a Catholic nun. Drexel entered religious life in 1889, and two years later she founded the Sisters of the Blessed Sacrament for Negroes and Indians.

The bulk of the order’s efforts went into developing a network of 145 missions, with 12 schools for Native Americans and 50 schools for African Americans throughout the American South and West. These Catholic schools were staffed by laypersons, often attached to a local church or chapel, and offered religious instruction and vocational training. Unlike many religious mission schools, students did not have to be or become Catholic to enroll.

In 1915, with a $750,000 grant from Drexel, the Sisters founded Xavier University in New Orleans. The only historically black Catholic college in the United States, Xavier was designed to train teachers who could staff the order’s burgeoning network of schools. Much of the cost of opening these schools, as well as Xavier, was covered by Drexel’s personal fortune, and it is estimated (there is no official figure) that she gave nearly $20 million during her lifetime to support the work of her order. Katharine’s travels and work continued until 1938, when a stroke left her almost completely immobile and forced her to give up leadership of the Sisters.

In Honor Of Katharine Drexel
Katharine Drexel was born to one of America’s wealthiest and most distinguished families. (Her grandfather was the senior partner to a young J. P. Morgan; her distant nieces included Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis.) Katharine led a pampered childhood, and few expected more from her than a world tour, marriage, children, and fashionable pursuits.
When their parents died, the three Drexel sisters inherited the bulk of their massive estate. To the disbelief of Philadelphia society, Katharine decided to become a Catholic nun. Drexel entered religious life in 1889, and two years later she founded the Sisters of the Blessed Sacrament for Negroes and Indians.

The bulk of the order’s efforts went into developing a network of 145 missions, with 12 schools for Native Americans and 50 schools for African Americans throughout the American South and West. These Catholic schools were staffed by laypersons, often attached to a local church or chapel, and offered religious instruction and vocational training. Unlike many religious mission schools, students did not have to be or become Catholic to enroll.

In 1915, with a $750,000 grant from Drexel, the Sisters founded Xavier University in New Orleans. The only historically black Catholic college in the United States, Xavier was designed to train teachers who could staff the order’s burgeoning network of schools. Much of the cost of opening these schools, as well as Xavier, was covered by Drexel’s personal fortune, and it is estimated (there is no official figure) that she gave nearly $20 million during her lifetime to support the work of her order. Katharine’s travels and work continued until 1938, when a stroke left her almost completely immobile and forced her to give up leadership of the Sisters.

In October 2000, Pope John Paul II canonized Drexel, the second native-born American to be named a saint. The ceremony would likely have pained Katharine Drexel, servant of the poor, whose only request when Xavier University was founded was that the school make no mention of her donation, and who, at the college’s dedication, sat in the back of the room, quiet and unnoticed.

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Three Sheets To The Wind

Three Sheets To The Wind

Beggar that I’ve become
Transgressor that I’d been…

Send kamikazes in
Send commandos
Send kung fu tai chi himself
I’ve had an infinite supply
Requiring infinite demand
I thought you wouldn’t mind
Dropping the atomic bombs
I wondered if you’d forgive
I wondered what the penance was

What’s the latest greatest trick?
Be joyous
Nothing up my sleeve
Stop your whimpering
Keep a stiff upper lip
Toughen it out
Until the cows come home
Three sheets to the wind
Self-absorption is a self indulgent pleasure
That’s hard to let go
Of dear lord please bless me
With that good old fashioned
Eternal joy and happiness
That is
If it be thy will…

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Akaal

Akaal

And if ever comes the day
We begin retreating from
What was once written
In granite stone
In diamond
Rock
Like blood and bone
Worn down through the ages
Of many rivers past
And parsecs dreamed
Worn down by the acceleration
Of what was once
Till
Death
Do
Us

Life is but a dream
To chance the chance
The nameless name
Meher Baba Meher Baba
Where our beloved’s silent call
Out over the star drenched hollows
Worn down
A thousand kisses deep
Into the sound of dust
Into those holy “I love you’s”
Endlessly in the firmament abound

As Guru Gobind Singh
Might add in a joyous call
We shall meet again
In victory –

AKAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLL…

– Wikipedia –

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The Poem of My Tears

I offer up my pain today
In a prayer to help me
To be a good kind man
Not abusive, but loving
Not to rule, but to serve
To withstand and endure
And remain detached from
Any form of attack
With understanding
And if I ever think to cross the line
To know it’s never worth
The price that’s paid
For the damage done

Though if to rule is my service
Then to rule well
I offer up the poem of my tears
For true love is no joke
No romance of flowers
And cotton candy

Let the past become the past
Baba is mercy to the undignified
As he is justice to the proud
So with my forehead to his lotus feet

Good morning Meher Baba
Thank you for this beautiful day
May I open up my heart
So I can be with you
All the way

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The Wild Wild Past

The Wild Wild Past

For me
Finally understanding
Is a cold comfort
Sad event
Seeing myself
Portrayed as often idiotic
A bit actor
A roll player at best

You can almost hear me
If you listen
In the background
In a whisper
Telling great tales
Of lost treasure
From the wild wild past

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Romans 12:9-16

Romans 12:9-16

Brothers and sisters:

Let love be sincere
Hate what is evil
Hold on to what is good
Love one another with mutual affection
Anticipate one another in showing honor
Do not grow slack in zeal
Be fervent in spirit
Serve the Lord
Rejoice in hope
Endure in affliction
Persevere in prayer
Contribute to the needs of the holy ones
Exercise hospitality
Bless those who persecute you
Bless and do not curse them
Rejoice with those who rejoice
Weep with those who weep
Have the same regard for one another
Do not be haughty but associate with the lowly
Do not be wise in your own estimation

St. Paul

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Foolish Desires

Foolish Desires

Before I fuck something else up

I leave it all to You
Not because I’m humble
But because of my unintended ignorance
And my not so unintended ignorance

What do I know?
In our pursuit to attain
Some imagined magical happiness
Sure
But the candy can be taken away

Like an ant
Attempting to use its great understanding
Of ant mounds
To understand existence
And the complexities of sweetnesses
Spinning on a cooling molten rock
Of cotton candy
Abandoned on the sidewalk
Billions of galaxies in
Trying to decipher the universe
Trying to avoid the ruthless necessity
Of pain,
This is what I’ve deciphered:
Existence is indecipherable

Our only hope is love
That great
Ungraspable, inescapable,
Indescribably
Awesome
Thing

When I was a baby
I used to cry loud
Even from the womb
In my mother’s kingdom
Demanding what I wanted
Purely desiring what I wanted
And that was
To be

Now as an older man
I no longer demand
I barely even want or pray
I try to think of simple ways
That I might help
For opportunities from GOD
To be of aide

My foolish desire these days
Is to bring GOD’s Kingdom
Down into my apartment

And move on from there

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The Source

The Source

To cherish the individual
In someone
To honor their difference
Their sameness
Not only outwardly
But on an inward plane
Where no one’s lost
No one’s played in vain

The hallucination of oneself
Is what they see
The hallucination of oneself
As we assembles our egos
That hide our true beauty
With what we imagine ourselves to be
Protecting it, fearing it’s loss

Camping out in a sleeping bag
Disregarding the stars
That flower from the source
Of the “Nothing”
So lucky
For the source of the “Everything”
Is very very good

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Highly Realistic Apparitions

Highly Realistic Apparitions

I can’t dunk

I’ve dreamed that I could dunk
(And I don’t mean fake dunks
To give someone
The virtual reality
Sugar Tease Gate
HRA’s (Highly Realistic Apparitions)
To appease the still struggling;
Who always awoke highly disappointed
Yes, exactly ten feet

Of course Dr. J (Julius Erving) can still dunk
Aged mid 60’s
As of now (Youtube)

I try to think of it this way,
Einstein couldn’t dunk
Nor Mahatma Gandhi neither
(This is where Jesus would
Normally come into my poem,
But seeing that he can walk on water
I’m not so sure he couldn’t dunk
So I’ve excluded him from the list
(No disrespect intended)

Abraham Lincoln was tall
But still couldn’t dunk
Martin Luther King couldn’t dunk
But had a heart
That could shout
From the sacred hollow
“I Believe!”

Oprah couldn’t dunk
Jimi Hendrik’s could dunk
With or without acid
But not with those bell bottom blues

Elenor Roosevelt couldn’t dunk
SpongeBob SquarePants couldn’t dunk
Unless written into his animation

Let’s face it
Only 1% of people can dunk
OK, maybe as many
As 2.4% of Americans

Don’t feel bad

But jeez… wouldn’t it be great…..?

But then again
If everybody could do it
I don’t believe I’d dream about it much
Anymore

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Inspiration

Inspiration

Meditate
Until you meditate without meditating,
Until the meditation meditates you

Special thanks to my mother
My first teacher
Through a mother’s love
She loved me
My father who inspired me
Jesus and all the saints –
Inspiration
The Catholic Church, Guru Nanak
Yogi Bhajan, the yoga saint
The Sikh Faith
And Avatar Meher Baba
From the beginningless beginning
Until the endless end
And all my family and friends

Inspiration to all…

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DAAMAN

DAAMAN

Obedience is a fountain
From which all virtues
Originally sprung
Obedient to the will of GOD
Above all else
Obedience
As was the strength of abram

How do we distinguish
Between the will of GOD
And the incessant ranting
Of our own superego?

We ask GOD for help
Especially we ask
To be bathed in GOD’s abundant mercy
And forgiveness
And wrapped in his protective mantle
Of infinite wine, of holy blood
Grasping tight to the hem His DAAMAN;
Brushing the fringe
Of His infinite cloak

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Grizzled Warrior

Grizzled Warrior

In a world
Where reputation is everything
Remove that
And you got yourself
A broken humanoid

Admitting failure does not omit facts
Staring failure in the face 24/7
And who’s to blame for that?
Now that they’re talking
Blame and fault and failure
According to the intergalactic bestseller
“The Game of Love”
Compared to the games of law
On earth
Surprised!
How can one be so dumb
Shocked!
How might one be that wise –

O Baba
You’ve made me well aware
Of my own insignificance
Sprinkled with the drama
Of making my own errors
As a career move
As an inner dimensional tutorial
As a true blessing –
Am I ready now
For your greatness?

…But I’ll take mercy,

Your grizzled warrior

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Grovelers At The Gate

Grovelers At The Gate

All gussied up for the soiree
Please help me be a good man
But not a fool
Help me help you
Open the hearts and minds
Of our blessed commanders
Of commandos

A tip of the hat
A swig of wine
Storming the shorelines of heaven
Bringing out the infantry

Of grovelers at the gate
Ner’ dismissing
Each and every
Ataman’s fate

I believe in one GOD
A GOD that gives me free reign
Within its own free reign

Our redemption is the existence
Of the now conscious source of the universe –

Our liberation is in the vast unknown
We live now and experience always

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Prostrate

Prostrate

Satiating desires doesn’t create happiness –
It just makes more desires
Desires etched in sand
In stone, in glass, in diamond
In flesh
In palm tree ash
Smoke and mirrors
Glitz and cash
Nose to the grindstone
Spewing the grist
Of super hard carbon
Nano laser razor tantric
Honed insight
Bit – light
In particle beam
Waves of the quantum time rolling in
Wearing down those charms
By the will of love alone
All levels of consciousness
Simultaneously
Through many million heroic human
Phantasmagorical lifetimes gone
All being etched
And again and again undone
Sorted out
Written in stone
Written in the sand on the shore
Written in the body and the blood
Written in the passion
Written with the power of GOD’s own hand
Until only beauty
Within structureless consciousness
Exists
Where untold ecstasies awaken

Prostrate before the source
Of all creation