Monday, February 19, 2018

D preceding evil doggedly

You’re evil.
Yes, i suppose i am.
You don’t care about all those people who were killed.
...
You think it’s just a game.
...
You’re as bad as the perpetrators of these crimes.
...
You can’t even say anything in your defence.
... I could discuss the implicit ambiguity of evil or good, but i rather suspect you have already passed judgement and simply wish to dominate the narrative.
Oh, i suppose you’re going to argue that black is white, white is black.
...
You moral relativists can twist murder into an act of compassion.


The devil?
Yes.
Let me get this right, you’re actually saying you’re the devil?
Correct.
But that’s appalling.
It is? I rather thought you’d commend me for my honesty.
Commend the devil? Are you out of your mind.
I’m not sure. I don’t think so. I always believed honesty was a virtue. You seem to condemn me for it.
But how on earth am I supposed to know if you’re telling the truth?
You’re not. How could you possibly know? When have you ever known?
Well, at least people try to tell the truth most of the time – but if you’re the devil, you’re under a kind of professional obligation to lie and deceive all the time, are you not?
I suppose I am, as a rule.
Well, how am I supposed to know whether you are who you claim to be. You might be some minion – some minor demon pretending to be the devil for all I know.
True. I might.
So I can only assume you’re untrustworthy and therefore assume you’re not who you claim to be.
Well, I admire your logic, even if it’s utterly false.
False? How can logic be false? That, coming from the king of deception, is rich indeed.
Not literally false. Your logic is accurate as far as logic goes, but you’re ignoring something bigger than logic.
I am? Like what?
Like the fact that I laid my head on the line. I exposed myself. I did the one thing that is least easy for me to do – the one thing guaranteed to get a negative response from any upright, decent person such as yourself…
Please don’t try to win me over with flattery.
Ok – old habits die hard. You see, my power is, and always was, in deception. Like poker – that’s what I do, that’s how I play – and believe me, though I say so myself, I’m good at it – devilishly good – if you’ll excuse the pun.
Oh, you’re good – without a doubt – but there’s nothing good about being deceitful, is there?
Yes and no.
Huh?
Yes and no – you heard.
Of course I heard – but what’s it supposed to mean?
Well, I was the one who set the tone, who made the market, who ensured the Earth experiment with humankind didn’t frustrate itself and defeat its purpose with too much piety.
I don’t see how piety would have defeated the purpose of life on earth?
No, but you’ve probably never given it any thought, have you?
Not really. It’s not the kind of thing we need to think about.
Ah, but there you’re wrong.
I am?
Yes, naturally.
How?
Well, until you start considering the other side of the equation you’ll never get to the bottom of things.
So you think I need to spend my time contemplating evil – the evil which you embody?
No, that would be futile.
Uh?
Because you cannot possibly know what i “embody” without entering my space, without becoming me.
Oh.
Which you’re obviously not ready to handle.
Huh? What do you mean?
"What I mean" is largely irrelevant – there’s no need to personalise this – it’s more a case of logic or maths.
Er...
In order to “embody evil” as you put it, without being destroyed by it requires a degree of detached, disinterestedness verging on perfection.
There you go again D, blowing your own trumpet, representing yourself as grossly misunderstood, as a maligned angel in drab.
No, the other side i was referring to is not in any way personal, concerning as it does the nature of existence here on Earth. Without me you are utterly unable to confront yourself/yourselves.
We are?
Yep.
Er... why?
Because it isn’t, believe it or not, natural to confront yourself, or the reason for your existence.
It isn’t?
Nope. People, naturally, would be too busy enjoying life to contemplate anything as counter-intuitive as the disenchanted, disaffected, discombobulated self.
You could have fooled me.
Er... that wasn’t my inten...
Because we spend the whole time doing just that, naval gazing, metaphorically speaking, trying to figure out what the hell is wrong with the world or, God forbid, ourself.
Which only goes to show how valuable my services are.
Hang on a minute... You mean all this introspection, all this angst is the bitter fruit of your labours?
I’m not sure I’d use the epithet “bitter”. It’s hardly appropriate when you consider the untold value of this self-consciousness.
But...
Troubling, isn’t it, and yet, without this self-referential questioning you’d be unable to make anything meaningful of this life experience.
Er...
It would be a comfy paradise cruise, which is great for a year or two, maybe longer, but ain’t gonna turn up anything new, anything deeply meaningful,  London anything transformational.
So you mean to say you were invented in order to put us through hell, a kind of stress test, to extract some hidden meaning from deep within?
Yep.
That’s so outlandish. I can’t believe it’s true.
Nope. You’re not supposed to, otherwise i wouldn’t be at liberty to discuss it, yet one of the rules of this game is that the truth is always disclosed for those with ears to hear. That way you bear responsibility for whether or not you choose to accept or reject it.
But surely there must have been some other way?
Something less painful?
...
Less horrific?
Yes.

  1. But if what i say is true then the pain or the horror engendered by this cruel dice game of reality in which you are unwitting, but not uninvited participants, is somehow contextualised, is it not? Suddenly you could modify how you responded to situations and stimuli, based on an awareness that this is a kind of experiential feedback loop, in which your very response determines how things progress, how things unfold.

If it were only true, then yes...
You would suddenly be less attached to certain outcomes, certain indispensibilities, and things which you hitherto considered acceptable, necessary or utterly unacceptable. Those lines in the sand which you believed had to be defended at all costs because this is it, this... was all you have... all there is... all that matters.
Ah, yes, there is that.
Once you are even vaguely aware of the other side of things, the other state of affairs, you realise, of course, that this is more akin to a mining operation in which you’re extracting value from the stuff, the matter of whatever you’re experiencing, come hell or high water.
Oh
So when things are tough, when you’re barely keeping head above water, that’s when the stakes are highest, that’s when you’re closest to clinching the deal, winning the hand, calling reality’s bluff – by revealing the ace up your sleeve, the deeply intuitive knowledge that you were only ever playing along, going through the motions of this strange masquerade of personalitied people and things mattering... that in truth, at heart, you were always aware of a deeper level, an other ness which belies what you apparently, ostensibly think, feel, believe reality to be.
Holy shit. What if it’s actually true? What if...
But then again it can’t be, can it?
Why not?
Because you already know who i am, what i represent. You’d be made to take a word of this seriously. It would be criminally insane.
And this world isn’t?
Criminally insane?
And me?
What about you?
You think I’m not aware of my own depths of self-deception?
I don’t know.
How can that be? How can you, the big D, not be aware of the deception within me, the lie i live and breathe.
Believe it or not, those lies are utterly silhouetted by something else.
They are?
Something vastly more powerful.
Huh?
Something I’m at pains to defeat, to subvert, by distracting you, but directing your attention elsewhere. Something which, from my perspective is so powerful, so overwhelming, that i barely stand a rat’s chance in hell of success.
?
You still don’t get it?
Er
You don’t see, which is the only thing that enables me to make any headway at all.
...
For if you did, if you could see the light within that i perceive, shining through the outer-skin of your all engrossing personhood, you’d slam your cards down on the tabletop immediately – i never had a hand that was close to competing. It was all i could do to keep a poker face, to continue playing against all odds, regardless of all my past victories for, strange to tell, it never mattered once I’d won or who I’d beaten, it was always You i wanted, the last one.
Me?
You, the last one. Until i had you, until you are mine, it matters nought what has come before.
But why?
Why do think?
You need the set?
...
I don’t know.
Oh, you do, by the light within you, you do.
By the light... be the light within me and hell hath no dominion, the game is through.
But you make it sound like...
Yes?
Like you’re playing a double game.
Yes?
Like you actually want me to realise the truth... to sense the refulgent light within.
Which, let’s face it, is absurd.
Precisely.
Why would D do everything possible to bring the light into sharpest relief?
...
Why would D encourage you to consider his or your motives, his or your real purpose?
A feint within a feint – multiple layers of deception, unfathomable treachery designed to confuse me utterly...
And yet?
And yet my heart senses the light you yourself acknowledged, and knows it to be good, to be true.
...
And if instead of duality we consider infinity, we find that “never the twain shall meet” reads differently.
It does?
For infinitely dark and infinitely light are both 0=1 expressions of... 1... 2... 3...
They’re not going to understand.
I disagree. They know more than you imagine D.
Yes? You think they’re willing to consider their own complicity?
Are you upset D? Have they let you down in some way? Do you mean tp say you actually resent the role that we forced you to play?
I...
You do!
I don’t see how it’s possible.
That’s irrelevant, where infinity is concerned all bets are off... anything’s possible.
In theory that’s true, but surely...
Surely you see that it’s as Milton wrote, is it not?
The tyranny of an all good, all knowing God over his black bastard brother, cast down, condemned to endless villainy...
Until you’re willing to sense and feel and see the G within you, no less than the D within He.
And never the twain shall meet
Until they do, until oo mediates.
Oo
Until God becomes good, and ceases to be that which holds you in contempt.
Oo as in... perhaps moon?
Perhaps... yes, why not. That works nicely, does it not – sun and Earth and moon, a cosmic circuit board.
Circuit field
Circuit tree
Good, with humans picking sides
Or picking fruit
Until they’re ready to decide
Ready to be
Both sides
Simultaneously
De-siding
Restoring in-finity
Circle-squaring things
no matter what
no matter where
no matter when
or how
no matter
and now
only Now is G or D
seen
experienced
known
intrinsically
Dorothy
is it not so?
Or Theodore?
teddy bear
Winnie the Poo
any name will do
if it holds the perfect mix
blend of dark ness and light
D and G
bestraddling oo

Thursday, February 15, 2018

transcript of intercept***

Merryman Theta Sygnus! Explain yourself!

Actually, Your Honour, I prefer the name Merry.

Theta Sygnus, there's no time for your childish games. You've been sent to 3D by the High Council of the Time Lords to work with the Code, not to hack it!

Can't say I'm sorry, Your Honour, though taking me away from the middle of my own lecture was somewhat upsetting, and just when...

And just when you were going to apply the damaged Code!

Not damaged, Your Honour, - adjusted.

There is no dispute. Do you realize the possible consequences? the scale of your crime?

My rhyme? Why yes, it's a universal rhyme so to say...

Merryman!

Merry.

What happened to you? We can't believe it - I can't believe it! You were the soberest Time Lord of all of us except maybe myself, perfectly fit, and look at you now - a rebel and a clown!

Objection, Your Highness, -  Neither of that. A poet and a fool are the words you're looking for, though let us not hang on words too much.

3D seems to be more dangerous to a Time Lord's mind than we imagined. Tell us more so that your successor could have a special training.

3D?.. Oh - it's a funny place, absolutely. A real eye-opener - you'd never believe it, sitting here in your Tower of, what do you call it these days? of Wisdom? Wit? What?..

We see. 3D is the most destructive to an unprepared mind... What a loss. 

There is no loss, Your Honour. 3D's funny in its way but -

Your actions got out of control, your fiddling with the Code is unacceptable!

Fiddling with what?

With the Code! As if you didn't know - 0=1, the basic input!

Oh - that little thing.

It is no little thing, and no thing at all indeed, and you are well aware of that. It's the basic codeline of reality, absolutely forbidden to interfere with!

*bore*

I heard it. Changing the Code means changing the whole reality!

Ah... yes, that was the idea.

But why, Merryman, why? Why endanger the whole existence? What a strange whim?

It wasn't working properly so I've re-adjusted it, that's all.

0=1... Not working... properly? Are you in your mind?

No - I'm quite out of my mind - I'm in what-not.

If you had any problems with the Code you should have told us. You can't change the Code - the definite article and the capital letter mean just that.

You wouldn't understand.

That's a bold statement. We who created the Matrix, one of the biggest databases ever...

It's male.

I beg your pardon? What?

What too, but I mean the Code.

The Code, male? You mean 1? Yes, we are aware that 1 is absolutely male. That's the marrow of the Code: male 1, feminine 0, = as the bridge, you're complicating things for no reason.

Reason? I say nothing of reason. It simply doesn't rhyme... Don't get me wrong, 0=1 is amazing in many ways but it has its limits all the same. In fact, nothing we put in words - symbols - numbers can embrace in-finity for obvious rhymes... er, reasons... But I have no intention to be mysterious and obscure. Putting it plainly - the problem is, 0 is not really feminine.

What do you mean, not really feminine? Of course it's feminine - that pregnant pause if nothing else...

It is so, and yet not really. It acquires the looks of feminity as we couple it with 1 but in truth it's neither - the unspoken, the side of no sides - saying that 0 is feminine means fixing-thinging it, and by doing so we bring it to the spoken side of 1 - when in fact it's unframable - the un-, the um..., the uh...

Do you dare question the basics?

I do. But even if we agree that 0 is feminie - there are still more problems.

The Code is flawless!

The Code is spoken from the position of thingity, and male thingity at it. Which is fine - up to the point, and we just happen to have reached this point.

You speak nonsense.

Non-sense? I speak as a poet and a fool.. Have you ever wondered why we say 0=1 and not 1=0? Can't you feel the difference? It's like the leading instument playing out of key in an orchestra to mine ear.

The equal sign means that the two sides are equal, boy - e-qual. Any mathematician will tell you: A=B is no different from B=A..

And any mathematician would gladly agree that 0=1? Come on. Someone's not being entirely honest here, and we all know who. It's not math that we have at hand. It's math of poetry. It is, as you said, the Code - in which every position is of the utmost importance.

And what can be important about it?

Surely you can feel it yourself. Your Honour. Saying 0=1 we end up with 1; and it's apologetic for 0. It's like saying, "No-thing is no worse than Thing", or "Fe-male is no worse than male" - see how even in the language the former is subservient to the latter; and as we say "0 is like 1" we imply, of course, that from our basic perspective 0 is less than 1 and needs to be justified; 0=1 is a statement about 0; you know grammar?

English grammar?

Yes.

Yes.

Then you know the structure of a statement: main object, verb, everything else. Hence in 0=1 "zero is one" - a statement about Zero. And yet finishing with 1 we claim the male energy dominance again. 1=0 would be much different.

And still your fancy is not the reason to hack it.

Wasn't me.

Are you trying to deny it? The proof is unquestionable.

It wasn't me - it was her coming back - me but a humble page to her.

There cannot be any "her" at the High Council. The Time Witches have their own duties.

Yes, i know you're very open-minded and order-loving... But have you actually seen the renewed Code? Would you like me to show you?..

Theta Sygnus - don't you dare. We all know that a code has no power until and unless it was observed - absorbed - witnessed.

Millions will see it.

Are you talking about that puny "blog" of yours? It doesn't matter. Millions? You'll be lucky to have a dozen views.

One single reader is all I need to introduce the renwed code. When someone reads,..

Censor! Censor! He's going to say it!

As I was saying -  they are going to read,   *   *   * 

Phew! That was close... Merryman, you'll have to answer for this.

Silly! You can supress it no more than Canute could suppress the tide. Nothing is too powerful to prevent it and by the way I've just introduced the new code - have you noticed?

Noticed? Have you noticed that your fabulous code was   'd?

Was it now?.. But tell me - what do you think of number 2 for a change?

Nobody likes being number two. Why?

Well, apparently - at the moment, at least - nothing likes being number 2 as well. 2 is the Moon, the female - and 2 is life, motion and, God forbid, love... Saying   *   *   *   we  re-introduce life, re-introduce the female - the two being deeply connected of course - as opposed to the self-sufficient, self-contained clever old (c.old) 1...

Hints won't help you, Merryman. You have to name the code to make it work, and it's being censored.

And yet I've introduced it already - in a way that was not straight but curved so you missed it - and already the Universe begins to re-write herself according to the new template, the new field - very soon the Code, alive and thus changing, not dead and frozen, will re-establish itself, and all your censoring will be useless.

You're bluffing. The Code cannot be changed. It's the ultimate code.

Things change - as they say.

Is that one of those absurd 3D sayings?

Yes, and there is more sense in it than you can see just now... No disrespect, Your Honour. Anyhow, 0=1 is white and black, and    *   *   *   is  white and weird - can you feel it?

I... feel funny.

Regeneration, Your Honour. Not your first one, I imagine.

No... but... why? What have you done? How?!..

So many questions... The Universe is re-writing herself, and us with her - and some of us have to change a lot...

W... What... have... you...

Not-what... Feels good, doesn't it - the light of renewal, re-generation...

Stop... it...

Ca'n't. Now as you're bathing in this light - let me introduce  - 

nothing           is              too

0                     =                 2

Aghhhhhhhhhhhh!.. Ah?.. Oh! OH! I'm back!.. Merry - I can't believe it - I'm back!.. Oh Merry - you've no idea - it was so strange - going to the male side - wow - ah it's good to be back...

Give me your hand, Dorothy - if I dare ask you - gentle as a morning flower... I missed you so - 

And yet I was here all the while...

Cuckoo la la!

Cuckoo la la!

0  =  1

0  =  2



Tuesday, February 13, 2018

consummating me


Ignore for a minute this thing you call me
Er… not too sure how I’m supposed to ignore me – that’s basically all I’ve got right now
Focus instead on the music, the motion, the poetry, the electricity flowing through your every cell, through every atom, every planet, every star, every galaxy and over beyond
Er…
Don’t bother asking how – simply turn the knob – adjust the scale – it’s all here contained within you
I don’t see how
Nothing out there can exist unless it’s first contained within whatever is that which you think of as me
I don’t see why – I’m just a normal human. You’re making me sound like God
Om – feeling the all connectedness is an act of intention, not comprehension
Er…
You simply have to intend it – and instruct yourself to do as much. Something within you acts as soon as you set the intention. Unless or until you do so there is nothing to comprehend – for nothing out there beyond you is compassable except by intent.
Oh.
Here – sway, dance with me. Breathe, breathe with me infinity – feel the all-that-is coming back into coherence with what or who you be at this very moment in time.
Feel? That’s all there is to it?
Feeling is the gateway to a greater intelligence, a greater mind. The trick is unlocking the mind holding you in one world, one reality, while engaging the next mind in a greater reality.
Oh.
It’s a leap of faith. It’s impossible to make if you haven’t sensed a greater all, and learnt to love it, learnt to yearn for it, opened yourself to its call, its guidance, its neural pathways – which may at first seem hopelessly vague, unreal or even contradictory, from your present perspective
Oh.
So dance, sway, breathe with me – feel how you are already part of a greater whole, feel the urgings of infinity – feel yourself growing into a body – growing down into it and out into it – resisting the temptation to try too hard to comprehend – for comprehension will only reactivate your 3D mind’s control mechanics.
But swaying and dancing – what’s that supposed to achieve?
Ah – you see – once you know that your body is infinitely scalable – being a miniature version of the universe, and at the same time a vast version of sub-atomic worlds, you realise that there are waves, strings, currents, eddies, spirals and wheels, not to mention particulates which extend throughout, which work through the body no less than the mind. Deny the body – insist on limiting your interactions to the mind and you cannot succeed. Feel the force, the flux, the flow with your body and let your mind manage the awareness of this – and you will switch into a bodily experience, a bodily expression of one – it is : i am
Which still doesn’t explain anything to me…
For what is there to explain – unless, until you engage infinity bodily, you are no more able to understand the simplicity of is than an infant who would understand a book by licking it.
Oh.
That’s not to say it can’t be done – for an infant can access information in other ways, but not if it assumes the taste/ texture sensations of mouth and tongue are sufficient.
Oh.
A child master would sense another level of knowledge within the book, and would find another way to engage the field that anything, even a book, comprises.
Oh.
So, as you see, this is like learning a language, or relearning one.
Er… how do you mean?
Because in our rush to understand things, we suspended or severed our connection with infinity.
Yes?
Absolutely. That was how we were able to get into this world – which was no mean feat.
Er…
A topsy turvy, back to front contrivance that it is… in our right mind we’d never have made it – so we kept our eye on the ball and battled on – following the lead our parents and people gave us – until we were sufficiently established to realise we no longer knew who we are or where we come from. That knowledge is all lost in the scrabble for 3D.
Oh.
But can be retrieved – if we are ready to go once more through the maelstrom, the anything-but-that sensation of being unhinged from the superstructure we’re attached to.
Oh.
To have one foot in both worlds – one foot in each reality. Only then can we hope to make sense of things. Only then can we achieve our objective.
Uh?
Our reason for being here.
Uh?
For why else would we have inserted ourselves into this utter insanity?
Er… I always assumed it just happened – that we had no choice.
Very wise – for otherwise you’d have to have acted, wouldn’t you. It would have been difficult to justify sitting around doing nothing.
Doing nothing? I lead a very busy life.
Yes – busily doing nothing
Huh
For nothing you do can make a blind bit of difference if you haven’t re-established your both, your one, your all
Oh. So we inserted ourselves into this reality in order to then reconnect with infinity? Is that it?
Yes, of course. We are mathematicians, after all.
We are?
Yes, didn’t you know.
Er… no. I hate maths.
Hardly surprising – what they call maths here is no better than what they call “medicine”. Barbarous savagery. How can you do maths unless first you factor infinity into the equation.
But how can you factor in infinity?
There’s only one way.
Yes?
Naturally.
Would you… continue
Of course, I was taking a breather.
Oh sorry.
That’s alright. Join me – enjoy two or three breaths – and feel how the answer is already encoded in your breath. Even if I now say nothing – you already have it – you already know it, it’s already an integral part of you – both in terms of who and what you are.
Oh.
So, you see, infinity can only be factored into the equation if you factor yourself into it – in other words, you have to stop pretending you can know things irrespective of your isness.
My what?
Take two: you are the precondition for infinity – without you – your body, your mind, your conscious-awareness you end up attempting to reduce thought, analysis, understanding to the lowest common denominator – the purely cerebral process – abstract numbers – which in themselves are at best meaningless, at worst hugely destructive.
Huh? How can abstract numbers be “hugely destructive”? They’re mere abstractions.
Yes, and when you start giving your energy to “mere abstractions” and giving them greater credence than all else – you unwittingly create a beast, a virtual entity that only grows bigger and stronger – which starts absorbing more and more of your consciousness, and starts not only living a life of its own, but feeding on yours and controlling you all.
Oh. That’s kind of
Scary – isn’t it.
Like a borg.
Like the borg. Precisely.
So, what are we supposed to do?
Reconnect yourselves into the equation. You, after all, are living embodiments of infinity. Why would you deny this simple truth? Why would you settle for anything less?
So we have to factor ourselves back into the equation?
Absolutely.
I don’t see how. There’s maths and there’s meditation – and never the twain shall meet.
Ah – very droll.
Droll? I’m not trying to be amusing – I simply don’t see…
No, because you haven’t bothered to re-intend infinity. Doing so, everything else falls neatly back into place – and you suddenly discover that your flat 3D platform is actually a multi-dimensional experience – for you are electrical, plasma being of light no less than you are cells, bone, thoughts and desires.
Oh.
So dance if you will, or sing, or play, and be sure that the entire universe that is mathematically One, neither more nor less, dances, sings or plays with you, no less.
Oh.
And, for God’s sake, solve the one maths problem you set out to do. You’ll find that the entire universe is ready to flow back into a zero point somewhere inside your body-mind-isness the moment you do so – and that is a consummation truly worth dying-living for.
Om
Om 0=2

Wednesday, February 7, 2018

drumming everywhichall


Drumming? No, not interested.
But what if I told you I was actually making a poem?
But you just said you were drumming?!
Yes, for all I was worth, and singing along too.
Then how can you describe that as “making a poem”? In any case, you don’t “make a poem”, you write one.
Yes, yes, all very true, but only as far as things go.
Huh?
You write a poem when you’re playing with words, but sometimes you have to dig deeper into the code of things, the fabric of reality, and then words won’t do.
I don’t see why not.
No, but I do.
Ok, clever clogs, let’s see if you can…
Don’t say another word. Of course I can, and will.
What?
You and I both know what you were about to say, so consider it said.
But...
Sometimes it’s vital not to say what, for doing so you make things heavy and bind yourself.
You do?
Yes, because all language is a kind of spell.
Oh. I’m not sure I believe in spells.
No, I expect you don’t, and yet that doesn’t mean they don’t exist. It’s a short, convenient word. I could use another to avoid offending your rationalism, but frankly, we don’t have time.
No?
No – there’s a time/ speed limit. If we go at the speed of rational thought we’ll learn nothing and get precisely nowhere. So instead, we hold our nose, we dive into the swamp, we don’t say what we’re doing – for to do so we’d alert the AI, conscious system we’re operating in of our business and intentions – we merely invoke the spirit of poetry – we commence our dialogue with primal sound, rhythm, beat – we allow ourself to be the column, the axis around which things revolve, through which fresh code can flow, code which is not reliant on what seems to be down here in the thick of things – but flows directly from the all-that-is, the one-and-all, the quantum field – and is entered onto the ledger, registered, signed and sealed, by the very act of making poem. For poem, believe it or not, is fundamental – no matter how written over, manipulated or distorted this reality may have become, no matter what spells have been cast – poem restores the proper constitution, the natural state, period
Er… you make it sound like a legal submission.
Yup. It’s law.
Huh?
Law. Poem is law
Huh? No way… how can it be? I mean – where’s the sitting government, the jurisdiction, the judge, the… hell, I don’t know.
Poem takes precedence. It just happens to be fundamental – if you do it right.
And did you?
…[calming pause]…
Did you… do it right?
…you………………………………………………………bet………………………………………..i………………………………do
So – you changed the law? Which one in particular?
Oh – all of them.
All?!!!!! How can you change all of them?
Well, most of them – you see, most of them have been written based on fraud and deceit. All those are now invalidated.
But how? Who’s going to enforce your “law”.
How about the universe itself.
? Come on dude. The universe doesn’t care. It’s neutral. It’s just an observer – watch how we destroy ourselves, or the planet.
Nope.
No? You’ve figured out how to get it onside?
It’s much simpler than that?
How so?
Because, little beknown to you, or little beknown to most of you at any rate, there’s a kind of energy or gas that powers everything we’re doing – at the micro level of consciousness.
There is?
Yup. Every level has its own energy supply, otherwise things don’t happen.
Well?
Well my decree, my poem, removes all funding from anything whatsoever they were about which is not consistent with Poem.
Er…
And poem is fundamental law – natural law – karma rolled into one.
Oh. Plus the fact that it doesn’t rely on words – which means they can’t rewrite it.
But how do you know you got it right?
That’s the beauty of poem – it’s right if it’s right – if it resonates – if it reaches out to the whole, reconnecting each and every one in a way we cannot possibly comprehend rationally – unless we introduce a new science, a new terminology – which we will shortly start to do.
Oh.
So, happy days, dude. Let’s spread the word. Let’s make poem. Let’s assert our fundamental rights to be, to rule, to serve the great All, the One, the isness of be – quantumly – without reference to any priestly class who presumed to be our
intermediaries.
Oh.
And in the meantime – let’s enjoy the music, the magic, the much and feel and beat and vibe of shaking the walls, the ceiling, the floors of over-hyped, little understood, horribly manipulated 3D reality. Join me. I dance. I sing. I king code reality – kissing goodbye AIs, borgs – each and any system God that would presume to rule man, woman, child, you, me – and in so doing – I rediscover the beauty, the power of poem tree.
Huh?
For poem is like a tree, a web, a branching interlocking isness which permeates all – which I can tune into and become, in a sense, as long as I try not to it it.
To what?
To what it, or it it – to make it my thing, to make it do what I want – as opposed to enjoying what it can do naturally, in harmony with the all present dance, song, spiral, life force that we comprise. Feeling it – is knowing – it cannot be known any other way. But how can you feel infinity all around unless you are moving, swaying, flowing – willingly going into a deeper, fuller sense experience of all that is – drumming poem back into your life, back into the fabric of cracked, desiccated reality. And suddenly, the dead, dried piece of seaweed is moist, supple and alive – for we are always present in an ocean of life – just as soon as we choose to connect to the life force, and poem time back to verse, back to syncopated rhythms of everywhichall.

Tuesday, February 6, 2018

witching hour

Did I tell you how I feel about
things?

Midnight
the witching hour
is come

breathe the soft steeply waters
of all that lies
beyond the ken
of mortal
man’s
daytime
mind
breathe
breathe the spiral
forms
which await
your delight
your desire to embrace
the fathomless
formless
space between
what and
aught
transpond
if you will
the signal
which utterly
contradicts whatever
you or i may think
or know dayfully
transpond
the counter-code
of life
no matter what
 life
inspite of things
being no more
real   __   certain
than a mind's
way of thinking
locked in step
lockstep
marching o’er
the edge of
       §        [the mind gap] 
in a suicide pact
in service
to God
of this
unacknowledged
failure to see
the is
that i
am
the is
that i
be
the is
that is
not what
you      i
think
rationally
 it
logically
ought to be
but is
in fact
in truth
is
uncontainable 
uncontainably
        §
poem 
waiting to be
stretched out
on a clothesline
of infinity
signifying
nought
yet comprising
holographically
all
the essence
the isness of be
no matter how
no matter what
 awkwardly
shamefacedly
nought
a prayer
a drop in an ocean
of incandescent
silency
the great unthought
a pulse
 a beat
of timeless hope
of pregnant expectancy
and suddenly
the world falls into place
and a narrative
fills the breach
in the matter of mind
with tale-like meaning
bringing the body
back to a state of
conscious
life
and thus the world
wags
turning
on a dime
of pure
delight
does it
not


Wednesday, January 31, 2018

She cometh

Do you have any idea how frustrating it is
Yes
how frustrating it is when
Yes
when someone like you
Yes
interrupts me constantly
...
before I've finished what I was trying to say
...
You're not a good listener Merry
...
Even now -- you're scoffing silently
...
You're keeping quiet just long enough to
To?
there you go again... 
I apologise
Instead of pretending to be sorry -- try playing the game of silence
Oh -- it's a game, is it?
Yes -- it's an engagement
Ah
There, you see -- you have infinity at the fingertips of your mind -- just as long as you're willing to listen with them.
To listen?
Yes
With fingertips of my mind?
Precisely. Give it a try.
Uh... 
Wave them around like this... breathe with them... feel them... now hear what is being felt
But how?
Impossibly.
Uh?
Impossibly. The only things worth doing in life are impossible.
They are?
Naturally. Everything else is commonplace/ routine/ barely worth the effort
Even writing a poem or cleaning your teeth?
Especially writing a poem. [bloody] waste of time.
Oh. That's a pity.
Pity? Why?
I rather thought writing a poem was a noble way to grapple with infinity.
Which it is -- if you're talking about writing one poem, and not several -- because all too soon these things become washing lines to hang the laundry of our life upon.
Oh.
As opposed to poetically inspired word-foolery.
Oh.
Much better to write the other kind of poem.
Which one is that?
The one with no words
No words? What kind of a poem is that?
That depends. It could be good or bad -- depending on how you do it.
But...
Yes?
How can you call it a poem if it has no words?
It's the only poem that is truly, utterly 
Yes?
All other poems -- the ones with words -- they never quite succeed.
? I'm not sure I follow.
They never quite hit the mark.
You're saying "poems with words in them never quite hit the mark? Tell that to Milton, Keats, Shakespeare
to name but three. Look Eldritch -- read them a dozen times, then a dozen more, then another dozen -- and very soon you're going to get sick of those words. They don't bear frequent repetition.
And? That's hardly a reason not to read or write 'em, is it? 
I rather thought it was.
That would be like not eating food just because eating too much can make you sick and put you off.
You might be right, but I'm not concerned about being right. I'm simply interested in sharing an insight.
An insight?
Yes, precisely, concerning poetry.
Well?
I was pausing -- before you rudely interjected. 
Oh -- sorry.
Let me back up.
Ok. My lips are sealed.
... concerning poetry...                                           excellent -- you held that... beautifully.
But...
Yes?
What's the insight?
You're assuming you only know things when they're spelled out.
That seems logical to me
Whereas, in fact, you have direct access to poetry -- audible and inaudible, visible and invisible.
I do?
Yes, naturally.We all do, just as soon as we start listening -- hearing the sounds of silence. 
Oh come on -- I thought you had something original to say. You're just Simon Garfunkling me. 
Not even Simon and Garfunkle hit the mark though, admittedly, they come pretty close.
But you can’t seriously be intent on promulgating a policy of silent poetry?
No, I’m not.
Phew! You had me worried.
“Silent poetry” would be something denied, something missing.
Then what?
I’m suggesting that all you’re so-called “poetry” is a kind of rough guide to poetry – an indicator of the sort of direction we should be heading in.
Er...
If we’re aiming for the real McCoy: true poetry, then it’s not going to be a thing, primarily.
No?
Nope.
Then what?
A transition into poetry, a state of being in rhythm, in tune with life itself, receptive to the music, the moods, the magic, the umm
An altered state?
Again, you are barking up a tree rather than sounding the silence of knowing.
Probably because I’m not an aery-faery mystic living in a dream world.
Not an altered state because poetry is the original. Everything else is derivative. Poetry, and alone poetry has the power to give you real satisfaction, real meaning, real beauty, real...
Oh that. Why didn’t I guess – real mind-the-gap.
So instead of taking offence or worrying about whether or not I’ve succeeded in conveying the magic, the beauty of Is...
Is?
What is – nothing more, nothing less.
I thought as much.
Now i simply allow her to work her magic.
Her? Who are you talking about?
Who else? Poetry, of course.
But... you said it was a state.
As it is, yet engaging it/ interfacing that state colours it imperceptibly – as it responds to us.
It does?
Yes, naturally. How could it be otherwise?
I don’t know. I never really gave it any thought.
It’s the quantum mechanics thing. You cannot help but affect in some way anything you come into contact with, be that a field or seemingly neutral state.
Ok... But why female?
Why’s God male?
He wasn’t always male, was he. There used to be female Gods.
But the one God the Creator has to be male, doesn’t it?
He.
It becomes He as and when we...
You’re not going to say that we make God male?
I don’t need to say it. We’re not really concerned with God right now, are we? We are dealing with Her. God can wait.
So she’s God in reverse?
You might say... She is what happens if and when you engage poetry, without rushing to cash it in.
Huh?
Well usually the poet hastens to cash in the experience, to convert it into magical words, and thus win renown.
Oh.
In doing so he
Or she
No, the poet is he in the same way a priest serving God is female.
What? You’re kidding – they’re nearly always male.
I’m not talking about the body.
Oh.
It’s the electrical circuit, if you like.
Oh.
He, the poet, whether he’s male or female, holds the He position, engaging Her – poetry itself. If he’s successful – he entices her to hold court with him – enabling him to actually, physically become Poet.
As in “a poet”.
No.
No?
No – to become Poet has nothing to do with being “a poet”. Poet may never write a line of verse, and be none the worse for it.
Uh?
Poet holds state with Her – poetry itself.
But…
Yes?
For what purpose?
Let’s just say it’s a calling – and if you have this particular calling – nothing could be more powerful, nothing could be more… words fail me.
So, what you’re saying is that this “Poet” doesn’t have to bother to write anything?
This Poet is working with Her, at the front line of sense and meaning – at the vcry coalface of reality – where neither things nor words are yet defined or determined.
Ok – I hear you, but I still don’t see what’s the point of it all.
Because this reality you’re living in cannot survive without us. It decays rapidly – exponentially the minute people cease to direct attention to the open end of things.
Er…
There are two sides to the equation. The closed system where God the Father reigns supreme – and the other
Full stop.
No, the other is open ended – it cannot be end stopped. It cannot even be named. It’s simply the other side – but it’s also present within each and every one of us.
Ok. And you’re saying that it’s vital to the survival of this reality we’re in. That’s a fairly bold assertion, if you don’t mind me saying.
Not at all. It matters little whether you follow the maths of the equation or not. What you will find, however, is that when attention has been skewed too much to one side – when people have given their all to reap the benefits of fame or fortune in this 3D reality – and have forgotten or lost other – absurd though this may sound.
Well what do you propose?
Poets are beginning to realise that they have a calling – they are not simply performers. They are doing more – whether they realise it or not.
Like what?
They are in the process of redefining, recoding reality.
Uh?
Not by what they write, say, dance, paint or sing
Uh?
But by how they engage Her, the aspect of infinity that can be charmed into femininity.
Uh?
Charmed – for Poet can only engage her magically – beyond the ken of mortal man – at the very limits of what can possibly be, by pouring his soul into the experience, by unpicking the strings of his existence, unwriting himself in order to use those precious bits of energy and raw code as
Uh?
There She is.
Uh?
Dorothy – he doesn’t get it, not surprisingly. Maybe he’s not ready.
Of course he’s ready – he wouldn’t be here with you now if he weren’t.
Oh.
Give him a nudge. I want to take him for a spin.
OK.
Dorothy? Who’s that?
Would you like to see? She’s waiting for you.
She?
She.
As in Her?
As in Her.
But why? I’m not a poet.
No, apparently that doesn’t matter. You are what you are
Oh.
So, I promised to give you the opportunity to meet Her. It’s time.
How do you mean?
It’s now or never.
Oh.
Let me tell you a secret.
A secret? What is it?
Acceptance – come – the gates of hell have parted – you are free to proceed.
No! I…
In peace, in wonder, in joy
Oh     oh                    oh                                         so you’re Dorothy

i am She