blueheron
Permanently Banned
Senior Apprentice
 
Last Login:June 09, 2010, 09:05:34 pm
 United States
Religion: wantism, nondualism
Posts: 46
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« Topic Start: April 12, 2010, 01:21:47 pm » |
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Art Ritual for Healing (also exploring the nondual and its place within ritual, and learning)
real hypocrisy words thoughts are fetters insignificance of tao, the love of good people funky cloud in assateague your back, apart from time natural honesty, autumn leaves? do they ever really leave? they just fade out the get more obscure, they transform into quantum seats unoriginal and vaguely directed drunk monotony I am Aisha the nomad Why does Mother nature sometimes unwind speaking through milquetoast contradictory
miseries or is it it my own naked epistrophy warm tears in sunshine, make me happier than normal emotions seem to hush, now for the winds do settle, and the clouds point the way, to the east through the brine and the city haze, close our thoughts to pristine times and only half
shown ways I fall, peacefully, i smoke green tea, there is not even me here is this clear confusion we're different now here, by the old cars, and the big barns, that look the same, they
remind me of people i've seen, the pattern that is everywhere, but it unspoken and denies
itself I thought I should research it, and inquire into its solitary wonder bearing no sound, the mass of objects in opposition and the lines and the colors thus forth, prayerful in meditations, all our merry motions towards Everdy high in the trees, the trees who look down, dancing in the sky, with the clouds, and the
dragons, yonder... fairies and will o wisps are there everything echoes, from where and how, all the world, a morel upon a path wait, love, the well of spring, though many mooded, storm of feelings and the battles... that quiet life IS NOT ME MOTHERFUCKER!
...and the words are like a blanket just a song thats singing to itself
i think if you arrange your house in a certain way in harmony with your mind and nature,
it could change your whole life when we stop clinging to anything we realize we have everything the art of life flying, waking up, wake warm blankets wet grass the little twinkle of the aura of wanti transforming once again into that which is at hand light, nothing where gravity may be tao even insubstantial nothing there is no divinity, so there is no family so there is freedom the fairy world view is perceiving 'i am nature' wantism is hypnotism fractals nature is the cure we did not go anywhere but something has changed its true, true words are beautiful many words on a page, is it writing or is it many words on a page, hey its the pomo lets play oyster tag, vagabond ecstasy i, i, the fields of switzerland for raining pebbles in a softened stream where come the yonder folk to dream and in one day the world was stirred and in one night the moon was beamed, sweet flowers, off into the night and spaces, searching, slowly changes falling, falling from this peak, falling as I write, again, why? words, you pull me on and one like my feet, and like my drifting soul roaming whole, for vaguely was a chorus, without end, but to ramble on an on, and never reach a shore, perhaps there, where fairy bear i met with something pure on nowhere, dead out this time hey, the beat generation lives... and well, black night is morning time its a matter of the the times and the way the watches wind but when its not in line what can be combined, i'm not a cat nor do cords on windows lead to chocactin chocolate but flowing embers volcanoes, is this world still forming the soul melts down, and forms, melts and forms again these poets elements, ventures, what? i means nothing was lost here left the words beyond the non dualisms for what could there be in so much talking without doing? all the dogs ran free from their leashes and roundabout, forming societies under the open sky howling free oh the vivified animal worlds with their dialect of truth and honesty, difference a technique for ecstasy the tingle in my neck spreading through my shoulders high pines in these timbers! the greens of the beans and all those gawking susans us and a bucket, breathing theres nothing but now.. run away!
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