Sunday Stream (85) ~Dusting Off Echoes from the Shadows...

[mtmynd]

<center>Dusting Off Echoes from the Shadows of Words</center>

Venting the toxins from the purity of thought.... planting the seeds of betterment for tomorrow's possibility, writers, painters, artists of all sorts rally to defend the unknown veiled in shadows perceptively gnawing at the bone of truth in hopes and desire that the marrow will break free and feed the hungry myths of yesterday's, today's and tomorrow's dreams into truths that are infinite and eternal.

Myths no longer poisoned by the unsettling fear of what it reveals, no longer disguised by trite ignorance, no longer denying the wonder of mysteries that spurn us, burn us, turn us into the savage beasts that imprudently kill and destroy all that is misunderstood thru heads so dense, so unreal, so unforgiving and loveless that to simply know... know what is our being that was born within us and carries us daily across the fields polluted with untruths and unrealities by lead-based lemmings instinctively following the asses before them... this trigger must be pulled on stupidity and non-caring before it swallows us and digests us and shits us into more turds with the stench of power that perfumes and masks the rotten ideologies running rampant across the one world limited, whose resources are squandered and neglected to maintain a false sense of survival based upon measurements of wealth, dollar by dollar, million by million, all for the sake of winning... what?

The suicidal ego sucking the lens out of the eyes, one, two and third, blinding the course of Tao, with farcical intent as a defense against the protrusion of submission of the sublime... we, this collective mass of human excrement threatens all else with nuclear superiority, teetering on the bridge of insanity, denying balance of being as if to be is not to be... the slander of non-acceptance of self which will exist long after the selfless ego is buried in the mass rubble of false strength, wondering, pondering, praying, asking for forgiveness for not knowing the sowing of preaching, teaching, speaching of words and actions passed like gas from the ass of fools fooling not only themselves but all that pay dearly with attention spans that would never reach the truth and lucky to reach 24 hours.

Submit to no one but the known one and journey not to the end but the beginning of where you once were and now find yourself far removed from the totality of one-ness, blessed once more and again and again and again. The birth revolution is not the only soul-ution but the gravitational jerk of truth whose reigns supreme for not the one of human self-proclamations of distortions, but the correct proportions of yin and yang, bing and bang, sing and sang... tunes from the in tuned to the wizzzzdom of life breathing, pulsating, inhaling, exhaling the supplication of non-nation, rationed one instant within one moment, eclipsed by each second, adrift with the minutes clocking the hours of ours, as if time were all is at stake to become that which we deny our own selves to be.

Come now, cum now, cum long, come strong, become the cum of energetical, orgasmical, comical laughter and humor to destroy the tumor of seriousness that has impaled mankind with horrors of false ego, palms nailed to crosses of shame, feet crossed to no longer walk the path that was given, and spirit disgraced, misplaced towards the submssive grounds that hold the ashes and dust of what once was and from which all that will be will struggle to once again resurrect to re-erect, to be wrecked again and again until the spiral reconnects and joins the one that is and remains.

Create, remake, retake that which is your Self, our Self, and shelf the false on the cliff precarious, dangerous it is to the Being of Now for tomorrow is illusory, a pillory of defiance, reliance, an alliance of lies, lying in hiding, awaiting these lies to perpetuate the mistaken, mis-shapen figure of demons disguised as leaders, pleaders of unity based on plurality of morality seen thru the eyes of those blinded by their own surprise that lift them to the skies on rugs woven with lies and deceit by the seat of followers who holler the lines delivered by those that have slivered truth into pieces as prospects for Peace that will never become the one that it is as long as was is the cause of the nauseating puss that subdues the clues of what is and will remain the same as changes revolve thru minds confused by a permanence of dance... the motion of an ocean connected to seas to be seen as one as we will once see the oneness of seas seen thru the pleas upon knees bent in wor-ship to sail the seven without feet to swim from drowning in the fear of sin swallowin' the fallin' in the lies spewin' in the minds and ears of non-believers in their own Self.

Do not hesitate, procrastinate, perpetuate, desiminate or regurgitate the words masking the silence of Self that speaks louder than sound through your cavernous mind echoing sameness over and over but never realized... the words will not heal the wounds of separation from ego and self until the feeling of healing sets you reeling to the appealing wonderous being of one within tu. Reunite without day or night dividing the Truth when shadows no longer rule the fool as a tool of manipulation seizing your doubt to benefit their clout to further spout their power of being over the same being within yourself.

[enough]

Cecil
09 July 2006

<center>_______
discarding the slippers to reach the full moon

corridors of blushed recollections
paled to a squint with eyes piercing
the only light from a candle's stub
held eye-level casting a suspicious
shadow upon crying walls -
tears from ages of neglect

enclosed within its own dungeon
the heart could easily be heard
were it not for the mind churning
cinematic madness of distorted views,
volume cranked higher than nimbus
becoming but a slave to the self

the mind has taken complete control
taken us places that we've never seen
places which enlarged our world
solidifying contact with humanity
their arts, their words,
their music, their lives

but as gautama - so did ourself
mind could not answer all
mind is built upon what it
has accumulated thru travel
in body, in mind, in spirit,
accumulation of our expansions
made heavy with the senses:
the holy five sensualities
demanding their needs
fulfilling their destiny
thru our ability to set free
and accept all that there is
thru the challenges of choice

the good becomes bad
the bad becomes good
and the journey of both
is the dance of the universe -
arm in arm the dualities waltz
the dance floor of the ethers
music of orchestra cosmosia
spinning in compositional precision

M A E S T R O !

if we come to know eternity
what is that - that knows?
_______</center>

[Artguy]

Spread the news...just sit.....http://www.buddhistinformation.com/heart_sutra.htm

Thanks Cecil....this one opens the marrow

[mtmynd]

A humble bow to you, artguy... and many thanks for the link.

yum, yum... the silence of being
the taste of eternity unequaled

[mousey1]

Now that's a go
I recognize a go

it's got that flow, that unmistakeable rolllllllllll!

Excellent!

[mtmynd]

Thank you. mz mousey-one!

I quietly salute your perceptiveness, as indeed, I did spew that one out... on a roll I were!

[stilltrucking]

[stilltrucking]

[Arcadia]

winter's sky big moon
thanks for the stream, Cecil!!!!!
saludos,

Arcadia

[mtmynd]

Gracias, Arcadia, y 'happy full moon'!