Spirit

Spirit can be a foreigner. I am thinking a series of thoughts this afternoon, purifying myself somehow, and then that thinking is over, and I makes tracks and go downtown return to my place, feeling so good. Thank you spirit. You brighten my day.

The Fool Man

The fool man submerged by his adoration of the female side of the species. And she has all the tricks of trade, and plays him. He is overwhelmed by a part of himself, he can't desist. And the lady is the artist and she is a painter and a walking deception. And he will speak of his love for her, when in reality the love that he believes that he has for her, is in his hunger. And love is the miracle, it evades, and it confuses, and it tacitly asks for understanding. It is not readily available, it desires explosion of the personal self, it isn't easy. And love is outside of physical touch, when it truly is love, and it is a unity of understanding and feeling. And when there is love, the expression of it in words, deviates from it. It is a pure thing in itself and doesn't seek accompaniment from any form or art, even though it may give itself to art also. Love I think in is silence and in the stillness and togetherness of two people. It is higher life, and it beams through the mundanity. It is alone. It is free and it is real.

Reaching Out to the Rebel

Searching into my feeling, for the place where you now are. And who will direct my direction, and who will guide me to this place? And I am open to anywhere, and I am in movement, and slowly and carefully heading myself to you. And you are next to me, and yet I must find you, and the place that this life has taken you to be in. And I have been considering different realities, and what really is the truth of a person, and in particular, what is the truth of you? And if life is an illusion, then life is a deception, and the truth of a person will not be found there. I think I am searching for the reality of you, away from the things that you did and said. I hold you inside of me, and I will hold you inside of me, until I find you, and when I find you, I will forever hold you inside of me until we are one, and then we will be together again.

The Quare Ones

Would you just listen to the quare one? And isn't she a thing to behold? And she acts as if she is the angel and the other quare one is beneath her. As far as I can see, the quare ones are both quare ones. And would you just look at the style of her condescension and wouldn't you know, that she is loftier in her whoredom. And would you just look at the style of her history, and would you just smile at its innocent stupidity. And don't you just love your own style of mockery, and don't you want it to increase, and don't you find yourself superior?

Master of the Moon

The moon is the god of love, it will tempt you and it wlll entice you and then it will embrace you, it will seek to become you, so you have to still it, to come to terms with it,to recognise it and control it in your own way, remember that you are the master of the moon.

Longing for the Moon

The sexual moon, full of the real thing. It is looked to for its endorsement, it turns away, it refuses, it will not comply to a comforting need. And its the King of Love and it seeps into the eyes and it expresses itself through its subjects. And then the day arises, when the moon has gone to sleep, and there is brightness in the day, and it shines in the spirit, and in this same spirit there is poetry and song, and wanting to invite the world to illumination. It is still here, life is quiet, and open to choice. And it tastes like freedom, and the freedom looks everywhere around and searches into the self, and the relationship is kindled. Tonight the world is on fire, and it is asking for understanding, it is asking for acceptance, and it is longing for the moon.

From the Present to the Past

My thinking is crazy and it permeates my dreams. And sometimes a time before, is not as distant as it seems. It calls me and it faces me and demands answers. It is not a gentle thing, in fact it is assertive and it seems to wish to get to the heart of me. And time is dissolved and it travels to the present and invades my mind, my conscience. Love can be so elusive, even when it assails you. And sometimes, the past is reconciled with now, and then you wonder where you take that, how you can use it. And there is no past and no present in the overall scheme of things, there is just the total experience, and memory of then and now, and even less than memory, in the stillness of the mind. Some things didn't happen in a particular moment that was available to them to happen, and then, can never have the opportunity to happen again. And then again all of this can be caught in a moment of time, magical time, and its trickery, and the games that it likes to play. I felt that you were around somehow, today, and I cursed you in the darkness of my memory of you, when I had care and you raped it with recklessness. And love can be without touch, and it can overwhelm and it can endure and it can be selfless, and it can imagine, and it can embrace from the present to the past.

What is the Matter Man?

What is the matter man? Don't you know that we all have to question ourselves? when did you begin to sink? And you ask for my help, and there is nothing that I can do. Don't you understand that you have to be your own friend. I stand only in the shadows of your life, I am no-one actually, know that I don't exist in the picture of your personal world, know that I am not a part of you, and do not have the ability to help to change anything in your life. And you ask me for money, don't you? Well I could give you money, like I have given it to you before, but this time, I have no money to give to you. My money will now become a stranger to you, as it is pretty much a stranger to me also. Do you understand that you have lost your way? And I am not the reason for your being lost, nor am I someone to turn to, when you are lost in your life. What is really the matter with you man? Turn to yourself please, don't let your pride go, I don't want your pride, what could I do with it anyway? I really have to say 'no' to you now, my life is working on itself and all of time, directions are gazing at me, looking at me, questioningly, asking me for my reasons why. Let me go man, let me be myself, let me be.

Truth

Truth is simple, is pure and is exact. There is no elaboration, it may be concise, but it doesn't set out to deceive. It is however elusive, and will not raise its head for each one who wants it to raise its head for them. And truth doesn't believe in 'facts' and other ignorance that refuses question. Truth is a liar to the lost. They will not be touched by it, it will avoid them. The nature of truth lies in love and beauty, so to be in touch with truth, then you would have to be in touch with love and beauty. There is a place, a direction, a house to visit, and when you arrive there, you will receive its riches, and nowhere has greater riches than truth.

Money, Dreams, and Sunshine

And the money stays intact, it lacks intention, it is frozen in itself, and it means nothing to me anyway, I wonder if it may mean something to itself! And the first rain of the summer is promised, and until it arrives, I will fix on the idea of eternal sunshine. It gives a glimpse of the beauty that we can discover and it suggests spirit, and it holds life within itself, and its strength overpowers the ordinary, the mundane, the trivial. And outside of my window a world is happening, and now and again, I commune with it, am I vain enough to think that I contribute to it? And when I withdraw from the place of obvious living, I receive the images and the messages in slumber. And then I awake to find myself free from the meaning and the wisdom of the dream. And strength confronts me, and it questions, and I think I understand its reasons, and it looks for change from me, and I know I must relent, and toss my weaknesses aside.

The Place

I think that you had it right, that evening in a strange place to me. And in a place in which I had never been before, I was lost somehow. And I should have been invisible, and I should have been unclear, and I should have been known only to myself in that moment. And I walked away to be alone, to be away, just to be away, away to my mind, that was confronting me, away to my truth. And I walked further away, and I travelled distant, not to be away from the thoughts nor the things inside of me, but to be away from a particular moment. And in that particular moment, I felt the lack of freedom to consider a part of me that was tugging at me, and asking of me for some kind of spiritual help. I feel it still, in dreams and in my waking time. It confronts me and asks me to assist. And I work on what there is that I can do. I try to find the place where I can communicate, where I can be at one with the memory and the memory of the memory. There is a place that looms, somewhere between the dream and a past reality, and a reality that I need to make real in the present time. There is a place, waiting to be discovered by me, and I need to find where it is.

Confrontation

Confrontation with adversity, I recline, looking into the near future, I look for the exit door. Other eyes project with purpose, with daring and will. I wish to dwell in a little world of understanding, and its peaceful place of my idea of reality. I close the door and listen, I have nothing to say, but listen to the silence. Emotion raises its uneasy voice, it is nervous and there is a trembling within it, and it hardly accepts even itself. I focus on all of the love that I can find, anger can only betray my truth, and in a moment it will give regret and remorse. And the summertime is full of peace, and it smiles on the day. It brings a message. It understands. It projects truth, and this truth is an easy thing, and it cares. And this is where confrontation is lost, is a loser, there is no care in its eyes. It is reckless and irrational and will become embarrassed by itself and turn and run in the face of understanding.