Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

kernel of my kernel
blue corn of black rice
secret of the secret out in the open open
little buddha of big Buddha
lotus of this Sutra song, diamond of directions
let go ego of my ego, fruit pit in belly, bowl of my alms bowl
from uncountable lifetimes, rags wrapped around this, newspapers to cover the sundown this material world, voices that create attachment to myths of conqueror persona to shadows of ignorance and pride to God with dollar signs in his eye
oh we have seen this false ego before, have seen it rear its Moloch head we have lost the thread of sanity that once outlined some notion of civilization that contained a kernel of truth in every part of the whole
we needed to see through the eye of universal understanding that is shed like beams of harmonic rays like hands stretched out to the holy beggar with morsels of quantum voids star roads
oh the energy-go round oh where it stops
nobody knows yet there is a non-egoistic science that remembers why it came here
remembers the lines and shapes of truth, the ritual of simple flows and spoke it to the elements as it recalls its silent names that allowed for movement in swift forms that mirror the river of human days

i saw this on Facebook today, it was an exchange that happened
on another site, where we use to write poetry.

I think the poets are just hitting their stride.
it took a preponderance, nay, a great spike, of numb shock
and unbridled material ego, yes, God with dollar signs, holy beggars..

"we are beggars
this is true"
and then he died