A tree of light reaches flashing roots into my skull with fractal fingers,
Lightning subsides to moonlight, the nerve net awash in seamless serene effacing tattered stimulus traces in a hush of retreating waves. Fragments of the moon collect in stillness to reflect a perfect sphere.
Silence descending like snow to the gravity-pearl in my belly, a coalescing sphere of spiraling mists, clouds in jet streams. The nerve net responds like the sea to the moon.
The moon is sailing in a sea of night, the earth's core of molten nickel its sun.
Following old ruts only, breath flows through the innumerable subtle tributaries of interlacing liquid flow.
Nobody was awake but me And the light shone at the last stop. Subway doors slam with a hiss I remember the movie heroine's kiss Street-light vacancy aches in the open -- find me a doorway to hide in -- I am so tired of the painted eyes of sell-girls.
Once I had a prayer but I lost it Once I had a friend but she left Once I had a home but I couldn't pay the rent Once I had some money, but now it's all spent. Find me a place to huddle, It's too soon to die tonight.
Longtime ago, this place was here. Rocks and creeks were formed in profusion of creative force. Longtime the alders have grown along the creeks, keeping shade where it's needed. The cedars and the pines they seeded themselves on down the slopes. The meadows filled up with grass, who knows what kind. All kinds of creatures, filling niches in habitats. People there too, sometimes, hunting and fishing, gathering plants and food.
Then white men, changing the face of things, too rapidly. Cutting trees, making stage roads, a railway, a highway, a freeway.
Still the sentinels stand watch. Pilot Rock to the East, the Dragonfly to the North, and Shasta to the South.
Men with long hair come, and women in long skirts. They pray to the spirits of nature, and pray to the wind and the earth. They worship the stars and follow the moon. They try to live right, and nearly do, until they stumble.
Men in red robes come. They take note of all the auspicious signs, say prayers, consecrate the Land for the Buddha's Doctrine, and entreat the local protectors to lend their aid.
A great Buddha image rises to attract the faithful. The kind face of Vajrasattva beams radiantly on all who behold him. His form was constructed with the wild energies of untamed beings. His ideal appearance purified all of their mistakes.
Many wish to dwell there. These people are possessed of a ferocious intensity. They have travelled, searched, and wish to plant their flag here. The place accommodates them, and they begin to dance with each other. This dance is controlled for a long time but then begins to break its boundaries. New interactions are happening at a rate faster than old interactions can be resolved. Overlapping ripples create confusions, and many see with double, triple vision, or worse.
They take to partying, feeling their oats in the anarchist solution that appears to be emerging. Not possible to look back, or anywhere, for guidance. What is coming is coming, and no one can affect it. Storm clouds have hovered so long that we have given up all hope of rain.
Conan Doyle Said to Rudyard Kipling, by Charles Carreon
'Twould seem overly reductive, Not terribly instructive To take the colors from the sky When anyway they all will fly, To kill us every single day When we must all die anyway.
'Twould be rather fuddy-duddyish And lack imagination To smother children's happy thoughts With a dark zen-colored cushion, To break their toys for their own good And tell them there's no supper For fear they might enjoy themselves And love what should be hated.
'Twould seem the criticism that the world's but a machine Has itself been found defective And even a bit obscene
For those who know and do not know Are seldom told apart Except the truth is always known In fools and madmen's hearts.
Lately I've been thinking how much I miss my lady Condoleezza's in the West Wing brightening the daybreak Living with a lust for power, running through the grass for hours Rolling in your Hum-vee like an army-child
And when it rains oil dollars down Washington's a cattle town And she's far away somewhere with Colin Powell out-of-town And she screens my corporate schemes Protects me from those wild dreams when we swelled Like Corporations fit to burst upon each other
I can see you by the window, planning first strikes in the evening The fruit juice flowing slowly, slowly, slowly Down the bronze of your bombshells Stokin ' up my lust for power, bombing old Baghdad, oh for hours, Flyin' your Apache like an army-child
Oh if only we could nestle in that hangout back in Saudi My arms around your shoulders, the Bin Ladens laughin' and jokin' While the smart bombs and the children are playing in the valley Oh I miss you Condoleezza like a banker miss his money
Lately I've been thinking how much I miss my lady Condoleezza's sowing minefields and clearin' out the terror Living like a lusty flower, bombin' ole Saddam, oh for hours, Rolling through old Baghdad like an army-child Rolling in my Hum-vee with my puppy-child.
There's a cool world out there AND I WANNA SEE IT, There's this cool world out there AND I WANNA SEE IT, Yea, there's this cool world out there AND I WANNA SEE IT, WANNA SEE IT WANNA SEE IT
Well I'll tell you one thing I DON'T NEED YOU HANGIN' ALL AROUND ME, Yeah I'll tell you this I DON'T WANT YOU TRYING TO SURROUND ME, And one more thing I DON'T CARE WHERE YOU GO, ALL I WANT'S JUST LEAVE ME ALONE
Well my mama raised me TO BE A GOOD BOY, But she didn't teach me TO BE SOME FOOL'S TOY, So pretty ladies: DON'T BOTHER ME Police with shotguns: WHADDA YA SEE ? Politicians: TAKE A HIKE Mass production? NOT ON YOUR LIFE
(Cause there's) a cool world out there AND I WANNA SEE IT, There's this cool world out there AND I WANNA SEE IT, Yeah there's this cool world out there AND I WANNA SEE IT, WANNA SEE IT WANNA SEE IT
Well it's May, and the nuts are gathering. It's May, and they may be dithering, But Hey! If you don't mind maundering They make great company And, Say! What about that Buddha-guy He's so amazingly inspiring I want to install new wiring In my old brain. Yes new, brand new wiring To carry all the high grade voltage That I will soon be carrying Thanks to my new power trading Deal with the great big grid in the sky, The one that won't pass me by. I'll mint money It's not funny Because soon I'll be feeling so high I'll never ever die.