Tag Archives: illusion

Imagine What

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Imagine what the world looks like right now: a mass illusion wrapped up in a dream. There are no other lands or hidden gods, nor unconnected causes or effects.

What would you change or wish you could improve, in just this moment while you have the chance? Before you take a breath, your time is done. Before a single step, there’s no more dance.

Imagine this: reality goes on, beyond the small abstractions of your mind. The moving finger finds the waning moon, but cannot simply grasp it in the sky.

What will you do to change the world you see, brave champion of just the truth you know?

07 DEC 2024

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The Heart Sutra

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There is no practice, way, or path,
No future place, no lingering past,
Nothing is real, and nothing dream;
Everything that is, just seems,
and is connected but still free
to think with selfish vanity
That by itself it came to be.

What folly, to imagine this
and seek elsewhere for endless bliss
That is already here and now
Without your discipline or vow.
Each breath you take is sacred space
Transcending time, and self, and place.
You are already where it’s at,
And gone beyond. Imagine that!

24 AUG 2024


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More Pretend

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You choose a place and time to take a stand,
although you realize, to some degree
that at the moment you first make said plan,
it’s already missed opportunity.

You take a breath and calculate the cost
with all the tools at hand, with all your skill;
the balance between what is won or lost,
the trade-off between wanting and your will.

What is this mad charade of pick and choose,
that interrupts just being here and now,
and in the end, is just yesterday’s news,
the dust of what some fantasy allows?

It’s all the same, beginning and the end;
fight, flight, and freeze are only more pretend.

29 JUL 2024

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Dividing Up the Blame

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There is no religion for the whole of “god”,
just some small and all-too-human scraps.
We are not equipped to know the universe,
nor much more than we hold in our laps.

There is nothing that is end-all, be-all
that we can imagine. Only fools
seek a formula that folds it all in;
we know not the game, or half the rules.

There is no united, single pathway,
nor a sole, most sacred mountaintop.
All we see are ripples and faint echoes,
not where things begin or where they stop.

We are at the shore of a great ocean,
thinking that our buckets hold the sea.
Salt dolls sent to measure depth and distance,
we dissolve. That’s how it’s meant to be.

There is nothing sacred that is separate;
just some shattered fragments, nothing more.
That we cannot put them all together
doesn’t mean we’ve failed. There is no score.

It is not religion that imagines
some connection that escapes our sight.
The small gods we carve out in our image
leave us blind and deaf out in the night.

There is nothing missing from the picture;
only our misjudging of the frame.
Drawing rigid lines between each other,
we each die dividing up the blame.

25 JUL 2017

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The Presence of Today

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We either seek to view the world today
through some past generation’s worn and tired lens,
or try to filter what is past and gone
with some new, modern sensibility.

In either case, the picture loses sense;
we only see with skewed perception what we like:
a world that suits our purposes as is,
or one that our reforming might make right.

And while we fight and scrape to prove our case,
what happens to the time that is?
The Now, the only time that is, is lost
and gone before we live its span.

What is the point of living in denial?
The world is what it is; each second’s span
is neither from the future or the past.
It slips away like water in your hand,

and your contention neither gives nor takes
a jot of weight to yesterday’s long gone
nor to tomorrow’s not yet been
if you neglect the presence of today.

24 JUL 2017

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Does Somebody Win?

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Doesn’t seem to make much sense at all;
win or lose don’t matter in the end.
It’s a race that seems too close to call;
finish line’s just up around the bend.

Doesn’t seem to change much day to day;
up or down, they’re pretty much the same.
It’s an endless cycle, anyway;
good or bad, the blues still run the game.

Doesn’t seem to be much of a choice;
nothing but illusions and disguise.
If you take a stand, or find your voice,
all you know or say ends up in lies.

Doesn’t seem to make much sense to me;
just another day to make it through.
Wasn’t what they promised it would be:
finding something meaningful to do.

Doesn’t seem there’s anything that’s true;
everyone pretends in something more.
What’s the point in simply playing through?
Who is left to count the final score?

Doesn’t seem to be a worthy cause;
after all, what matters, when it’s done?
Instinct versus artificial law;
both are losers, if somebody’s won.

09 JUN 2017

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A Single Blink: triolet

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A moment’s span is very little time;
a single blink and half of it is gone.
Not long enough to make ambition’s climb,
a moment’s span is very little time,
which makes its wasting quite a solemn crime.
On such small pegs, life’s hat is hung upon.
A moment’s span is very little time;
a single blink and half of it is gone.

07 JUN 2017

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