Thursday, July 27, 2006
Sunday, April 23, 2006
A POET OR PAUPER, RICH MAN OR THIEF?
When you get right down to it, there isn't much that we don't already know, other than what happens when we die, when our corpse decomposes into dusty bones and our Sunday best. Point blank, there you are being watched by your self, every false move recorded for the sake of redemption from some unknown, unnamed, unreal creative first mover of the universe.
Saturday, April 22, 2006
I AIN'T GOT NOTHIN'
When you can't see the forest through the trees and you cannot hear the sound of the tree falling in the woods, then you are on the right page to recover the lucid truth of the millenia. People gathering around and talking about each other, dividing the masses & conquering it's unruly conundrum. Running wild we are. Girl meets boy, they love, make more boys and girls for eternity? Maybe. Maybe not.
Categories of substantial essences, all fall to the bottom of the utter eschelon of the pit of hell. The Jones' get you down, seven deadly sins keep you awake in the eternal sleep of the divinity. If you see something you want, forget about it, you don't need it, take it to the bank. Forget about it. Ramble on until the truth be told. Love? Health? Happiness? Delusions of grandeur? Hyperactive gonads and ovaries, wanting to make carbon copies of the sperm & egg capsules. Love and the lack of it, is all there ever was and all there ever will be. All of the ancient and modern philosphers agree, noone knows what the hell is going on here and anyone who professes first hand knowledge is indeed, Godhead or smokin' some wacky tobaccy. Run away from the truth and you ram right into the origin of Truth. Turn the corner, open the door and go in. You may be surprised at the nature of the contents. Remember who you are and why you're here on the planet. This ain't no party, this ain't no disco! But you don't care, you want a party or a disco. Go home and go to bed, got to go to sleep, it's gettin' late. You're hungry and you have no money. You left home, you got kicked out of your mom and dad's place and now all you have is the clothes hangin' on your back. Join the military? Become a hobo and run the railroad tracks back and forth from Louisiana to Maine and back to California. Run, run, run......see the back of your head you've run in to? You are all there is, all you'll ever have, all you'll ever need. Waste not, want not!
Categories of substantial essences, all fall to the bottom of the utter eschelon of the pit of hell. The Jones' get you down, seven deadly sins keep you awake in the eternal sleep of the divinity. If you see something you want, forget about it, you don't need it, take it to the bank. Forget about it. Ramble on until the truth be told. Love? Health? Happiness? Delusions of grandeur? Hyperactive gonads and ovaries, wanting to make carbon copies of the sperm & egg capsules. Love and the lack of it, is all there ever was and all there ever will be. All of the ancient and modern philosphers agree, noone knows what the hell is going on here and anyone who professes first hand knowledge is indeed, Godhead or smokin' some wacky tobaccy. Run away from the truth and you ram right into the origin of Truth. Turn the corner, open the door and go in. You may be surprised at the nature of the contents. Remember who you are and why you're here on the planet. This ain't no party, this ain't no disco! But you don't care, you want a party or a disco. Go home and go to bed, got to go to sleep, it's gettin' late. You're hungry and you have no money. You left home, you got kicked out of your mom and dad's place and now all you have is the clothes hangin' on your back. Join the military? Become a hobo and run the railroad tracks back and forth from Louisiana to Maine and back to California. Run, run, run......see the back of your head you've run in to? You are all there is, all you'll ever have, all you'll ever need. Waste not, want not!
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