Not Unlike A Fruit Loop

(New to series:  Progression: These Are The Best Days Of My Life)

You can’t bring me down
with your tiny mind,
running around its hamster wheel.
You can’t harsh my buzz
with derisive words
of hate and dogmatic zeal.

You may think that you’ve found
an answer or two,
to invalidate all that I’ve said,
but your answers are stock,
without substance or proof:
now begone!  Get out of my head!

You tire me out, and I can’t make sense
of most of what you say:
your grammar and syntax abused.
Volume can’t replace content,
nor can myth replace fact,
but simplicity keeps you amused.

I am reminded of a fruit loop,
composed of nothing real,
and bright colours artificial:
one could eat the whole box
and be left with the thought
that this really is nothing special.

So I’ll just walk away and salvage
what little remains of my reason:
I’m not sure that you’ll know I have gone.
You will find some other ear to bend
and prattle away until it bleeds:
in the end, you will stand all alone.

Letting Go: The Lesson of the Mandala

(New to series:  Progression:  The Best Days of my Life)

Realities change:
the arrow of time is random
and chaotic.
Aging changes, often drastically,
the notion of self,
and to dwell upon what was
contaminates the joy of Now.

Release those acquaintances
who cannot become friends;
Cease endless dogmatic dialogues
containing faith, belief, and prayer.
Set free the essence of the young adult
you were so long ago;
Let go innate politeness
that makes excuses for the rude.
Dispense your focus on societal sadness,
embrace both love and peace.
Liberate your mind, controlled too long
by corporate Newspeak.
Unchain the propaganda
preaching tribal exclusivity.
Just let go
to Become.

Impermanence is the foundation
upon which each life is built,
and acceptance is to understand
the fullness of what is.
Letting go does not subtract,
but fulfills, enhancing
who you are.

Theoretical Paranoia

Sometimes, awake at night,
I fear that I shall find
my synapses all firing
in someone else’s mind.

As solid sleep eludes me
I can’t leave it unsaid,
through quantum entanglement,
I’m in some other’s head.

Or perhaps I could be walking,
just strolling with my dog,
visualizing strangeness that exists
in this quantum fog.

Is that a bird that I see,
or a leaf?  But then again,
it may be a weirdness peering
from a multi-dimensional brane.

With vibrating strings humming
through all that I’ve learned,
connecting the unseen and bizarre,
I’ll admit I’m a trifle concerned.

So many hypotheses in my thoughts
make me so tired and weary,
I’ll contemplate the Mandelbrot Set,
and switch to Chaos theory.

Elevation

(Further to the series:  On the Establishment, Care, and Maintenance of Personal Social Parameters)


The struggle,
and the weight
of trying:
reaching for a point
of departure.

Dropping the repetition,
putting away the routine,
the boredom,
the sameness,
of constant distraction.

Letting go of the spiels
of strident people
beleaguering their very own
hobby horses,
until the beast falls.

Unchaining from the distraction
of the reality of others:
setting aside the blackness
to which our masters
condition us.

Then rising, with song,
and a sense of joy
into the cool, crisp air of logic;
into the sunshine
that dwells within.

Sativa Cookie Moon

(Cannabis and Creative Cognition Series)


High above the silver-clothed bay
Selene rules.
She contemplates.
Several harbour islands
are black cutouts,
with scrub spruce 
starkly standing guard.
The stars are dimmed
with respect,
and more than a little awe.

The scene evokes
Black light posters
from the psychedelic age:
lifetimes ago.
All is imbued with a surreal peace.
One can sense the subtle presence
of a Universal Vibration,
and feel the sympathetic harmonic
of belonging,
while remaining separate,
and unique.

There is the sense,
the feel, of a shimmering curtain,
the nearness of another reality,
singing its own cosmic song
in the glowing velvet night.
The night breeze exhales,
and the goddess smiles
as the bay breaks
into silvery shards
of eternity:
reflecting past changes,
under far different,
and distant,
moons.

Greyhavens Meditation