oh
moth on the glass
deer on the road
pilgrim in the wasteland

not all lights are holy

pray dear mister
let me sit here
and if these rotten beams
should cave in about me
it shall be a tender mercy

view all of life as a dream

pour dream milk into your dream coffee

have dream conversations
with dream characters
as you go about your dream day

view all external interactions
as projections of the mind

in this perception
experience liberation from grasping and aversion

take a deep breath and hold it

watch that clear white light
illuminate behind the leaves
twist electric winding
through the twigs and trees
spark upon the glittering snow

when emotional reaction arises
remember
it is just a dream

this anger is a dream
this joy is a dream
this boredom is a dream object
and not real

possible answers:

1.) dirt and rocks, maybe a beaver dam
2.) solid iron-nickel alloy
3.) superconducting ammonia crystal
4.) an alien supercomputer run by insidious mice
5.) hollow, another earth inside
6.) an icy void
7.) plasma fusion fuelling a molten mantle
8.) stargate
9.) number9.. number9

why does a wise sage burn his books?
because s/he realizes intellect is a barrier to being
and discards delusion
surrendering worldly books to the purification of fire

it was dark as we walked down the hall to the elevator
my companion seemed short by human standards
sex.. not exactly known
we walked in together
and pushed a button on the wall
(the symbol on the button seemed reasonable)
up we went
to transparent height
our bodies were radiant
glowing bright
the doors sighed away to a startling sight —
‘we’re pulling him out for this?’
the time traveler inquired
its various faces spread deep into void space
and it was a fine mess
stardrive omicron with a fractal smash
shattered crystals littering the immediate space nearby
suspended in a slow motion explosion
plasma discharge singing some jagged glassy tale
somehow we knew
that telepathic redemption
as electrical humms
and spasming arcs
drew stardrive omicron together again
(captain jurgen could only dream of this
tucked away in cryo for the show..
s/he so HATED time)
and like a feather
falling back to earth
and slamming into a body
i awoke with a jolt in my bed

gushing river
flush with springly melt
doth ponder wash away

there is no
up/down
right/left
yin/yang
demon/angel
this is why
they are named duality
for surely
any two choices
are delusion

the dandelion wars have raged for years
when i was a child
i picked a bouquet of dandelions for my mom
beauty for beauty
but she was allergic
and i learned dandelions were bad
growing greedy as vermin
multiplying in my lawn
i once saw an old woman spraying poison
her face twisted up in a strange sneer
as she squirted jet after jet of death onto those unlucky weeds
no… not poison i thought
i did weed ‘n feed that year
kids couldn’t walk in the yard for a week
DON’T TOUCH THE DANDELIONS
THEY’VE BEEN… well… poisoned
ah how we tend to revisit
the iniquities of our elders
a year passed and the dandelions were back
tenacious beasts
i uprooted each dandelion one by one
made a huge compost pile
it took me days, almost a week
and i dreamt of dandelion fractals
plunging down that yellow spinning brightly
and the next year
each site of uprooting sported
THREE MORE DANDELIONS!!!
so i planted clover
supposing if i couldn’t have perfect grass then clover might be nice
and perhaps it would compete with the dandelions
and it worked!
this year
i’m eating the dandelions