
diamond cutter

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like a wild mountain man
staggering out of the woods
muttering gibberish
disheveled beard all dripping in the rain
spawned by a lightning strike
plasma etched of solid stone
new body heavy
gravity crushed
fingertips arcing electricity
eyes glowing
scent of ozone thick upon thunderstruck airs
with sufficient awareness, ‘nightmares’ are re-writable.
sometimes the ‘matrix’ or whatever..
maybe the karma/grudges from my daytime actions
(for i am not perfect)
is what they really are
..gives me something approaching ‘nightmare’ material
but really, it’s more mirth than anything these days
i watch the dream as a detached observer
still and silent within the great clear hot
even hear the sounds of real life as i dream
the braking and acceleration of diesel trucks
the droning hum of the nearby commercial heater
the screams and yellings of drunken passerby
the bicameral shouts in my otherwise deaf ears,
the mortal peril of some ‘nightmare’ dream sequence..
and all of it is delusion
not real
and there is no delusion
this is why it is named delusion
these binaural beats are designed to centre the mind
generating awareness from silence
it is more or less inevitable
as evidenced by shakti
arising to her consort shiva
the yin yearning for the yang..
and yet there are no gods,
this is why they are named gods.
the kingdom of heaven is within you,
(and all that)
this shakti/shiva mythos
is mind pictures for the following truth:
energy arises from your spine,
travels upwards to your crown
shivers
undulating the spine
a smile on one’s face..
all signs of this truth
ten years later..
how’s it going with that snow?
and howling wind?
and teaser chinooks?
followed by more freezing cold
cracked and twisted, stunted trees
dead car batteries
desparate eyes that dare not make contact
dusty snow
drifted against the sides of gritty concrete
garbage fluttering like trapped birds
panic stricken within the chainlink fences
if you’re still there
i feel sorry for you
if you’re thinking about emigrating to canada
the prairies are not what you think
and it came to pass in those days
that the people of the world
were wound straight up
twisted close to snapping like a rubber band pulled too tight
it was as if.. the walls were closing in
wreathed with jagged, rusty spikes
some vile and filthy poison dripping from their points
shrieking the ragged rantings of the ancient dead
and everyone was shaking on the inside
quaking with a world gone mad
greetings
old friends
new friends
enemies
those indifferent
these are challenging times
the rapers of the land
multiply their inquities
against free will
and there is no free will
this is why it is named free will
and yet
the nature of nature is free will
each tree in the forest is unique
despite having similar genetics
(and who programmed that base-4 code?)
nature appears to love diversity
but nature has long been defiled
by the modern mechanical era
and at this time the hubris is writ large
this is the first cause of the great undoing
but there is more to come..
driving baselines
red wine
sex
cigarettes
the seductions of success
in the end
what does it profit
a s/he/wo/man
to gain the whole world
and lose its/their soul?
now is a delicate time
a time of intense precision
where those who think they know
impose their thoughtful know upon the unknowing
and there is no know
there is no knowing
and there is no unknowing
this is why they are named
know and knowing and unknowing
those negative vision casters
were doomed from the start
and yet not so doomed
insofar as they might be damned
for there is no doom and there is no damnation
this is why they are named doom and damnation
round and round
these thoughts in the head
this is why they are named
thoughts in the head
there is a glowing horizon
a shimmering song
sung within the glimmering chest
those prayers of love
and unity
this that not and not these those..
please stop
make it end
how does spirit arise from ego dissolution?
in silence
in bliss
in that impossible golden clear hot cloud
one with all existence
androgynous alien body
are you ready for that?
no?
ah, fair enough
the hungry carnavel keeper hands you a ticket
gaunt and pale
finger bones trembling nervously
the markings look strangely familiar
it simply states:
“good for one ride..’
Watch some wriggling worms in the spring soil as I read to you an excerpt from the Stardrive Omnicron Chronicles
Original text can be viewed here: https://www.starbelt.ca/the-stardrive-omnicron-chronicles-episode-4/