The Seismologists Ruler

Seismology is an art reserved for anyone

Little crytals beneath the earth contain starlight

I weep for stars too small to take flight

A bird with no wings is like a summer ending

Various lands are embarassed by telephones

And no one understands scientific logic anymore

An ounce of love is unstable at room temperature

A piano is a leaf whose keys lightly tremble

Outside a window

A wasp is a woman who undresses

In the bare moonlight

A continent is subdivided by the freedom to roam

And eyelashes

After the rain a subterranean world comes to life

After the rain Chicago sings and the universe

is so undead

Modes of Existence

Existence in Space

Every object has a limit as to what can be observed, unless:

a) you are that object

or

b) you exist outside of time

Consciousness exists as nodes within a dynamic field. Knowledge may be dispersed in non-local units through non-local action.

When we understand self-reality--consciousness--then we may transmogrify into something larger, or take on more units (the nature of being and becoming).

Convergence and Divergence

All paths converge given enough time (change) and opportunity (existence).

Each path is unique. No universe/realm is the same (laws may be arbitrarily assigned).

There may be infinite universes/realities. If so, each one supports the other like nodes within a field. Each individual consciousness is a reflection of the universe, existing at a reality-resonant node within a field within a field. Each reality may introduce new reality-being, or knowledge, but only through non-locality. The same goes for non-resonant nodes of individual consciousness in separate dynamic fields (non-linearity of consciousness).

Existence and Becoming

To be is to be becoming.

All that which is shall remain unknown.

That which is not does not exist.

What is the meaning of love? To know the self and to know the universe.

To know the self is to know the universe, and vice versa.

Proceeding Further

Reality is like a mixed drink: the right ingredients determine the right flavor. Drink at your own discretion.

(Some thoughts I had this morning upon waking.)

Velocity

There have been entire passages ripped
away by greedy hands
Words that liberate and bloom
Stolen from human equity
These lost pearls roam the tides
Waiting to be reabsorbed
And ignited in the minds of man
Each night at the right hour
A word appears
And then soon a collection of them
Seeking remembrance, awaiting flight
Each night a flower unfolds
Expressing its beauty
Unaware as to the modes of its embodiment
Life springs forth across an entire continent
Love is in the womb
Silent in its velocity
In vacant places and in shadows
Veiled in the true sorrow of a kiss
Each moment, each season is a disguise
Every butterfly flourishes on the wind

Castle of the Unknown

You escape into a castle of the unknown

And find a note in the entryway

which is composed in free verse

that leads you through many doors

opening to its various hidden rooms.

Inside the first room is an eyeball on the wall

named Zod.

The next room contains stationary as old as silence,

or perhaps older.

It leads to an antique room made of salt.

And there is yet another room

dreamed of in a kiss.

Entirely white, it can never be remembered.

Through the doorway a sparrow now enters

and mid-way in flight it stops and becomes

feathers only feathers.

An old piano plays in the hallway

whose notes are but whispers

that have never known morning.

These are the kind of sad processions

that remain the unwritten music

in the dormitory of the mind.

And it is too bad you will not return to reason

though it is without reason that we create new roads

and you will ask

is reality not but a dream?

but it is only memory that pretends an answer.

Truth Sells

The trumpets sound. The rancorous villains have smuggled away all of the dandy confections of moral society. And now night blooms while the fires envelope the decay. The apportionment of apples shall provide strength to the starving masses. A feather drops into a well. There is hardly time for menageries and stolen wishes.
The sun's freedom shines upon all and the whisper of the morning becomes like a snowflake in air in the crystal fornication of light. How shall we succeed, how shall we begin? Like two poles of light burning at the end. Death walks beneath all shadows. There is comfort in the rain, there is no comfort in the blank skies above us. Science is but a butterfly carried by the wind.
Such and such... ah sweet odes of now and again! From here to there I give you flight and take away tomorrow for you will only dream, and man, like sin, will fade away, for I give you vengeance and tragedy, which are the makings of history. All that I imply and all that I implore is not so much as a wink on a night of pleurisy. You will love me, we shall love one another, and these hands will touch each others and become the blind twigs of forest life. Watch as I attract the birds. The full moon in all its infamy dangles in. The curtain calls. The stage is set. And we are utterly fooled.
Everyone is encrusted by their own wisdoms. Who tells, the heart tells, the pig sells. For a pittance we can be sailors on the long waves of nowhere and to nowhere we shall come and be known as saints. The clouds will even part for our pardon. Look who's talking: a fish with a man's head. It's a man with a fish's organs needing to swim in the fountain of youth. Have they received his coin? The butts of minnows stand in awe. But it's raining school children and the factories must close. Ah, the factories and their flowers and their fragrances. Shall we shower alone or shall we shower in the rain? Is it considered proper and will they alone decide our freedom? Gather in a perfect line and march.

Some Haikus

Bloodstones

Sleep wearily; hail
The magical night bleeds
Into my solemn dreams


Untitled

Racehorses explode
The night is calm as pigs
The black acorns hiss

A Star Trek Haiku

Captain!
Approaching on starboard side
Giant toupee with lasers

Dreams Revisited

I'll definitely remind you that all knowledge is a memory born from a dream. As sun falls sleep wakes. Knowledge repossessed. A memorial to sudden genius. The gateway to thought is the gateway to dream, as all the world's apples are patiently waiting to be eaten.

A zebra, in all of its black and white beauty, disposed of black and white thinking, races through your cloud-dream and arrests your moment of despair.

You are struck with allegiance to the unfolding caprice of love.

How mimes can slowly stay their pace and tears become their flowers is no secret unto mimes. They are extraordinarily humble persons!

Vision operates on the apparatus of modern verisimilitude. But clarity is derived from dream.

(Some old writings of a few years ago)