"she" is my dog
soma was awesome inspiring and doubly confusing
that you are doing all this certainly inspires me
though does it turn my dog on?
she seems unimpressed at anything buut her own prowess
of which she apparently seems at odds with showing anyone but you
im impressed very much so
i admired you then as many ways as possible
paying tribute is an enless divide of water standing in air
why do you tell me to undo that which I do?
beep beep beep youre backing away from that which I say
I take the cue and undo and hope that you pause and return to a closer view
yet i wind up a pitch and you dont swing at it
rather you envision a strike though all pitches are fair
my invites are clear yet you hold off
when the cue comes to move in for this or that
where are you at, mirroring me?
if im stationary and your mobile how are we reflections?
if im vocal and your visual yet the chorus is collaborative
when does the bridge begin and end?
its always there my friend
were holding hands all the time
yet you boast and brag of some one upedness you hold over me
and i humbly ask for my fair share in the knee
why do you claim that the love is all there for me
and yet not offer it freely?
who or what is she? that she loves me and wants a telling but tells a wanting
who are you or where when you stare through the back of your head and nod at my questions yet do not ask for me yet offer her and not you
what owe i you?
and for how long must I pay before you welcome my stay
I'm a pain in your gut for the guts in my pain
and you seek my forgiveness yet its always there seeking you
yet you dont seek you mimic why is that> is that wise?
are you wise? am I?
I cally and befriend though I still cannot see through her to you
she is your shape and you have no space within to find
am i stoming past you without a hello or am I waiting for your hello so the stomping may go
do I grunt for you to call you the dog she claim or you may see me the same as her yet will not accept my name while all I have been questing for is acceptance of every name, why or quoi is right with mine that you cannot or are unwilling to accept
i dont know myself as seperate anymore, i see me thru the light given my eyes and why four? you a judge of me, the only judge and yet who appointed you my keeper? and if its love you want are you somehow lacking?? how can you want love if lov us is what you are?
over us one and us under you, i see that as us being love and you being considered above love, keeping love beneath you.
am i to choose just one of you or al for all of you, i find the latter more appealing yet when we get close when you move in and take my hand it seems you lose focus or everything else gets the better hand of us both and our clasped hands are a burden to you like im dirty and your clean and im not "enough" for you to dive into
and yet this is your arguement or our agreement from the other life we had the lesson your forcing upon me and the lesson im showing you through my eyes and heart and gut. my gut tugs at me and my heart pushes me at my gut, why is that?
why do you close the gap only to offer me more of the gut and not offer more of the heart?
and why does my gut seem to want to run away from everything and yet stasis ensues and it goes nowhere!
i want to be so angry with you and yet you are no specific person for my angry energy to point at, if i place an arrow in front of me the nearest body is you ether male or female and the person seems deserving of anger for the way whic you have chosen to ignore me while paying so much attention in such an abstract way.
I would give order to my wic and wood my wic listen wic you seem like you desire my words but i would have you desire my forms the forms there are, all of them, they are forms just like you and in a mirror you would preen and be giddy at the shape of you. how do i talk to you are an object an "piece" a "part" and noun oand yet you are also somehow this environment this external body divided into many bodies and many shapes and forms and you have always been aware of yourself and youve also always been around to let me in on the secrets yet ive had to work so hard just to force you to let me in on the secrets and even now when i ask you face to face to stand up and love me and love yourself and let yourself let myself love you what do you do? You offer me penuta! its not what i want, though its not something i dont want.
you see? if i say i dont want it you find something wrong with me, you think i find something wrong with it. and if it is you, i should want both, nd use the offer as a way in from wanting the one thing to wanting the second person. A sure they look great and so do you sortof line, and yet, were it me, id skip the penuts or at least save them as an after offer and first offer myself to you and if you decided that i was not waht you wanted then if you were stil around id offer the penuts as a method of keeping you around so that perhaps your interest in me would peak like a dogs would. aha
offer a dog something it becomes your friend
dont offer a dog anything and it goes away to fond someone who will offer the bone to it
reach out your empty hand for a dog to sniff and it seeks the smell of food or the smell of no-fear as a sign of okness and then pat the dog on his or her head and it starts to love you for the love you showed it in offering your hand empty or full in th first place.
people are not dogs though, thats where this gets strange
if i offer my hand out to a person they may or may not take it and shake it or slap it five or punch it or many other things in a form of greeting and then they want to converse not get their heads patted or their fur which we call hair riffled or their belly rubbed and they certainly dont expect us to walk around behind them and smell their butts.
yet theyre dogs and not dogs and their masters and yet so uncertain of themselves they ask permission to have their hands shaken and only some of them assume automatically that a hug is genuinely welcome and desired and where sexual inuendo is implied, the imp lied and sadly said he wasnt gay even though its the only thought on his mind and heart all night and all day.
Why does this imp lie?
He says hes what he sees and does, he wishes for the being of new seeings and new doings, yet when a new doing is in front of him peeking its potential experience he throws out an arguement hoping to have it deflated.?,
i never thought I could deflate something like a but it happened lol
I still don't know what you want from me besides acceptance, love, honor, glory, fire, passion in this place, in this time, with these stifled stories and verging on boring people I wonder and wonder at the lack of dreams in all my friends.
They don't dream anymore, the have no valor in them, not necessarily the valor of war and saving the lives of those in need, but the valor of questing for unknowns and enjoying the journey, I have no examples save those youve given in film and storybook, for tis age of women and men is without heroes or quests, the truths are all known and in plain sight yet, yet they elude the world, they call from the fires of hell and the mists of heaven for awakening and whisper in shouters ears who hear the not yet feel there iss something more to the hiss in the wind than just its sound, some mesage some dream long forgotten and thrice ascending. Where are they now hiding within my friends cautious and frightened eyes, when they look at me and I surprise them with nonsense and hope, yet harps of the plastic kind are not the same.
I wonder why I write except to unburden my heart of the lack of dreaming in my own tie, my throat aches for tears un fallen, my heart screams to burst forth with happiness for family and friend with reason yet it waits for reason it seeks some season or change in the wind of things, a tiding of futiile oneness with all, the glimpse I've come to see and its beckoning from you to me though I know not how to answer save how I have beginnings and my roots do reach down as my stem climbs through the soul deserving the light of your hearts loving tenderness to help me grow, though into what and where and how and why and when I do not know.
I only know that when you ask for me to be something I am not, I try for you, though not always hard enough, I am pushing myself to grow for you, to change for you, to live for you and even die for you, though I know not why, just that the adventure of doing so would be more exciting than this living I have led thus far. Much living has been done by me and not much enjoying, I wonder if it was this way for you, for us, for your father and mother and theirs, for the rest of the gods and godesses, was breaking through the shell, was splitting the seed and pushing into the air fro beneath the ground as difficult for all of you as it seems for me?
I want to come into form, though I have such routing and routine, I have setup ideas which hamper my growth and even though I can see the breaking of them ought be simple and easy, when time comes to make an effort at it, in some areas I lack drive, or backing, a father on my should giving me the go ahead, do it, itll be allright and its necessary, and thenI read my own words and realize that yes i ammy own father, leading me to question, who are you?
The water, its so attractive and I need it to survive, yet its fighting me, or fighting you, or perhpas even in this I am wrong, oddly enough, I wll never be certain until someone with the answers to all these questions comes along and vi......
vi how are you?are you "how" is the name of mind and if mind is not what then what is now not how? then how can one ask "what" is "how"? for thats not a question its a statement of comparison between the fore and the aft.
who is earth
what is water
when is fire
where is air
why is ether
how is third eye or I,I,(I)<--that one there
and there is no question to equal light or is there,is there or? golden
I have so many questions, and I could go anywhere there are hoards of people and just speak to you and te people would pantomime your responses, or are they my requests echoed and twisted, and should I trust anything you say at all, anything you mime, for you are always aloof of me, in some ways even though you are in contact with me always, I'm so much your slave in this world of mice and men, and fabric, and fire
Should I never question? Given the chance I would give answer after answer to hoards of beings seeking knowledge, but the answer would always be the same, "that which you are seeking is love"
The question cmes to me though, WHY do we seek that which we are? If we are love, and you are love, and all "things" are made of love, then how did we ever come to a place or time where we saw anything else but love?
Was there truly a tree of knowledge of good and evil? And if there was such a tree, was o considered evil or good and in turn was i considered the opposing or complimentary? These are our body parts, how could one of them be evil or good? They are equals. The front and the back, and less or more, up and down, at least I would feel them to be so.
The circle continues, if this is true, then why quest at all, why worship rocks and paper as things of value? Why does the world seek to hoard objects and treasures moreso than friends and family members, it seems so much more true that instead of falling apart like most families do, that they would spend thier lives tring to come closer together, yet in a forest that could mean the death of them, trees need room to grow, and the variation of family there is a sort of adoption program of varying types of life, they become a family or a tribe of sorts, the elms and the oaks and the bushes and flowers and grasses, and the animals which harmonize with them.
why us, why are we so different from all that? Why are we so destructive? Why do humans want to turn the entire world into desert and metal scrap piles? Why are we destroying the entire world without a thought for the rest of our family? Why are we eating EVERYTHING?
It has been my heart ache without true outlet since I was young, and I've never realized it until now, and I would never fight it the way other do, I see not enough time im too old and yet too young to organize protests and rallies and all that sillyness, I'd rather build an army and destroy cities and such but thats hardly feasable either, its more of the same, in another octave, its destruction caused by destruction, a hall of mirrors justifying itself.
This world is crumbling from the outside in, and everyone seems ok about it, too distracted with anything and nothing to care, and the ones who care have no strength in them to make any effect in the doing of something about it.
I would save te world if I could. I need saving myself. And yet I cannot even save myself, for I a without you. I cannot save me without you. You are the one who does the saving, the who who is the one who is the nothing, the whole hole and the two tube, you are both best and writhing worst of me and the crying cat next door. She, or he wants companionship, and I'd open a hole in the wall and invite the cat through it had I the strength and the cooperation of my whole omen.
You are both clear and unclear to me, my tasks and trails are not fully writ or if they are writ the vast reams of them are so difficult to interpret that I could spend the rest of this human mortal life seeing a king in everyone but myself and yet wondering when and where the kings I see will show themselves to be such and willing, for they are kings, even the women, and I am their quest, their maiden in distress, the world they want to live within yet somehow live without.
I pine for you and when you are in front of me, we are together, yet it is only A partial togetherness, for the heart of me years for the dream which has faded of so much more, the faded dream which is resurfacing finally, the knowledge that there is a god, the fair trusting assuredness that there is something more than meets the eye and nose and ear and tongue and skin, the nothingness of something more which with words and symbols cannot be described, the complex creativity of everythingness as sensed with an infinity of sense, the factor pi sense f being at infinity with infinity for eternity.
Every day we grow closer together, I wish though that the weight was over, though I'm sure as the sands of the hourglass grow thin gregory and yrogerg my inverted twin can feel the love flow in.
that you are doing all this certainly inspires me
though does it turn my dog on?
she seems unimpressed at anything buut her own prowess
of which she apparently seems at odds with showing anyone but you
im impressed very much so
i admired you then as many ways as possible
paying tribute is an enless divide of water standing in air
why do you tell me to undo that which I do?
beep beep beep youre backing away from that which I say
I take the cue and undo and hope that you pause and return to a closer view
yet i wind up a pitch and you dont swing at it
rather you envision a strike though all pitches are fair
my invites are clear yet you hold off
when the cue comes to move in for this or that
where are you at, mirroring me?
if im stationary and your mobile how are we reflections?
if im vocal and your visual yet the chorus is collaborative
when does the bridge begin and end?
its always there my friend
were holding hands all the time
yet you boast and brag of some one upedness you hold over me
and i humbly ask for my fair share in the knee
why do you claim that the love is all there for me
and yet not offer it freely?
who or what is she? that she loves me and wants a telling but tells a wanting
who are you or where when you stare through the back of your head and nod at my questions yet do not ask for me yet offer her and not you
what owe i you?
and for how long must I pay before you welcome my stay
I'm a pain in your gut for the guts in my pain
and you seek my forgiveness yet its always there seeking you
yet you dont seek you mimic why is that> is that wise?
are you wise? am I?
I cally and befriend though I still cannot see through her to you
she is your shape and you have no space within to find
am i stoming past you without a hello or am I waiting for your hello so the stomping may go
do I grunt for you to call you the dog she claim or you may see me the same as her yet will not accept my name while all I have been questing for is acceptance of every name, why or quoi is right with mine that you cannot or are unwilling to accept
i dont know myself as seperate anymore, i see me thru the light given my eyes and why four? you a judge of me, the only judge and yet who appointed you my keeper? and if its love you want are you somehow lacking?? how can you want love if lov us is what you are?
over us one and us under you, i see that as us being love and you being considered above love, keeping love beneath you.
am i to choose just one of you or al for all of you, i find the latter more appealing yet when we get close when you move in and take my hand it seems you lose focus or everything else gets the better hand of us both and our clasped hands are a burden to you like im dirty and your clean and im not "enough" for you to dive into
and yet this is your arguement or our agreement from the other life we had the lesson your forcing upon me and the lesson im showing you through my eyes and heart and gut. my gut tugs at me and my heart pushes me at my gut, why is that?
why do you close the gap only to offer me more of the gut and not offer more of the heart?
and why does my gut seem to want to run away from everything and yet stasis ensues and it goes nowhere!
i want to be so angry with you and yet you are no specific person for my angry energy to point at, if i place an arrow in front of me the nearest body is you ether male or female and the person seems deserving of anger for the way whic you have chosen to ignore me while paying so much attention in such an abstract way.
I would give order to my wic and wood my wic listen wic you seem like you desire my words but i would have you desire my forms the forms there are, all of them, they are forms just like you and in a mirror you would preen and be giddy at the shape of you. how do i talk to you are an object an "piece" a "part" and noun oand yet you are also somehow this environment this external body divided into many bodies and many shapes and forms and you have always been aware of yourself and youve also always been around to let me in on the secrets yet ive had to work so hard just to force you to let me in on the secrets and even now when i ask you face to face to stand up and love me and love yourself and let yourself let myself love you what do you do? You offer me penuta! its not what i want, though its not something i dont want.
you see? if i say i dont want it you find something wrong with me, you think i find something wrong with it. and if it is you, i should want both, nd use the offer as a way in from wanting the one thing to wanting the second person. A sure they look great and so do you sortof line, and yet, were it me, id skip the penuts or at least save them as an after offer and first offer myself to you and if you decided that i was not waht you wanted then if you were stil around id offer the penuts as a method of keeping you around so that perhaps your interest in me would peak like a dogs would. aha
offer a dog something it becomes your friend
dont offer a dog anything and it goes away to fond someone who will offer the bone to it
reach out your empty hand for a dog to sniff and it seeks the smell of food or the smell of no-fear as a sign of okness and then pat the dog on his or her head and it starts to love you for the love you showed it in offering your hand empty or full in th first place.
people are not dogs though, thats where this gets strange
if i offer my hand out to a person they may or may not take it and shake it or slap it five or punch it or many other things in a form of greeting and then they want to converse not get their heads patted or their fur which we call hair riffled or their belly rubbed and they certainly dont expect us to walk around behind them and smell their butts.
yet theyre dogs and not dogs and their masters and yet so uncertain of themselves they ask permission to have their hands shaken and only some of them assume automatically that a hug is genuinely welcome and desired and where sexual inuendo is implied, the imp lied and sadly said he wasnt gay even though its the only thought on his mind and heart all night and all day.
Why does this imp lie?
He says hes what he sees and does, he wishes for the being of new seeings and new doings, yet when a new doing is in front of him peeking its potential experience he throws out an arguement hoping to have it deflated.?,
i never thought I could deflate something like a but it happened lol
I still don't know what you want from me besides acceptance, love, honor, glory, fire, passion in this place, in this time, with these stifled stories and verging on boring people I wonder and wonder at the lack of dreams in all my friends.
They don't dream anymore, the have no valor in them, not necessarily the valor of war and saving the lives of those in need, but the valor of questing for unknowns and enjoying the journey, I have no examples save those youve given in film and storybook, for tis age of women and men is without heroes or quests, the truths are all known and in plain sight yet, yet they elude the world, they call from the fires of hell and the mists of heaven for awakening and whisper in shouters ears who hear the not yet feel there iss something more to the hiss in the wind than just its sound, some mesage some dream long forgotten and thrice ascending. Where are they now hiding within my friends cautious and frightened eyes, when they look at me and I surprise them with nonsense and hope, yet harps of the plastic kind are not the same.
I wonder why I write except to unburden my heart of the lack of dreaming in my own tie, my throat aches for tears un fallen, my heart screams to burst forth with happiness for family and friend with reason yet it waits for reason it seeks some season or change in the wind of things, a tiding of futiile oneness with all, the glimpse I've come to see and its beckoning from you to me though I know not how to answer save how I have beginnings and my roots do reach down as my stem climbs through the soul deserving the light of your hearts loving tenderness to help me grow, though into what and where and how and why and when I do not know.
I only know that when you ask for me to be something I am not, I try for you, though not always hard enough, I am pushing myself to grow for you, to change for you, to live for you and even die for you, though I know not why, just that the adventure of doing so would be more exciting than this living I have led thus far. Much living has been done by me and not much enjoying, I wonder if it was this way for you, for us, for your father and mother and theirs, for the rest of the gods and godesses, was breaking through the shell, was splitting the seed and pushing into the air fro beneath the ground as difficult for all of you as it seems for me?
I want to come into form, though I have such routing and routine, I have setup ideas which hamper my growth and even though I can see the breaking of them ought be simple and easy, when time comes to make an effort at it, in some areas I lack drive, or backing, a father on my should giving me the go ahead, do it, itll be allright and its necessary, and thenI read my own words and realize that yes i ammy own father, leading me to question, who are you?
The water, its so attractive and I need it to survive, yet its fighting me, or fighting you, or perhpas even in this I am wrong, oddly enough, I wll never be certain until someone with the answers to all these questions comes along and vi......
vi how are you?are you "how" is the name of mind and if mind is not what then what is now not how? then how can one ask "what" is "how"? for thats not a question its a statement of comparison between the fore and the aft.
who is earth
what is water
when is fire
where is air
why is ether
how is third eye or I,I,(I)<--that one there
and there is no question to equal light or is there,is there or? golden
I have so many questions, and I could go anywhere there are hoards of people and just speak to you and te people would pantomime your responses, or are they my requests echoed and twisted, and should I trust anything you say at all, anything you mime, for you are always aloof of me, in some ways even though you are in contact with me always, I'm so much your slave in this world of mice and men, and fabric, and fire
Should I never question? Given the chance I would give answer after answer to hoards of beings seeking knowledge, but the answer would always be the same, "that which you are seeking is love"
The question cmes to me though, WHY do we seek that which we are? If we are love, and you are love, and all "things" are made of love, then how did we ever come to a place or time where we saw anything else but love?
Was there truly a tree of knowledge of good and evil? And if there was such a tree, was o considered evil or good and in turn was i considered the opposing or complimentary? These are our body parts, how could one of them be evil or good? They are equals. The front and the back, and less or more, up and down, at least I would feel them to be so.
The circle continues, if this is true, then why quest at all, why worship rocks and paper as things of value? Why does the world seek to hoard objects and treasures moreso than friends and family members, it seems so much more true that instead of falling apart like most families do, that they would spend thier lives tring to come closer together, yet in a forest that could mean the death of them, trees need room to grow, and the variation of family there is a sort of adoption program of varying types of life, they become a family or a tribe of sorts, the elms and the oaks and the bushes and flowers and grasses, and the animals which harmonize with them.
why us, why are we so different from all that? Why are we so destructive? Why do humans want to turn the entire world into desert and metal scrap piles? Why are we destroying the entire world without a thought for the rest of our family? Why are we eating EVERYTHING?
It has been my heart ache without true outlet since I was young, and I've never realized it until now, and I would never fight it the way other do, I see not enough time im too old and yet too young to organize protests and rallies and all that sillyness, I'd rather build an army and destroy cities and such but thats hardly feasable either, its more of the same, in another octave, its destruction caused by destruction, a hall of mirrors justifying itself.
This world is crumbling from the outside in, and everyone seems ok about it, too distracted with anything and nothing to care, and the ones who care have no strength in them to make any effect in the doing of something about it.
I would save te world if I could. I need saving myself. And yet I cannot even save myself, for I a without you. I cannot save me without you. You are the one who does the saving, the who who is the one who is the nothing, the whole hole and the two tube, you are both best and writhing worst of me and the crying cat next door. She, or he wants companionship, and I'd open a hole in the wall and invite the cat through it had I the strength and the cooperation of my whole omen.
You are both clear and unclear to me, my tasks and trails are not fully writ or if they are writ the vast reams of them are so difficult to interpret that I could spend the rest of this human mortal life seeing a king in everyone but myself and yet wondering when and where the kings I see will show themselves to be such and willing, for they are kings, even the women, and I am their quest, their maiden in distress, the world they want to live within yet somehow live without.
I pine for you and when you are in front of me, we are together, yet it is only A partial togetherness, for the heart of me years for the dream which has faded of so much more, the faded dream which is resurfacing finally, the knowledge that there is a god, the fair trusting assuredness that there is something more than meets the eye and nose and ear and tongue and skin, the nothingness of something more which with words and symbols cannot be described, the complex creativity of everythingness as sensed with an infinity of sense, the factor pi sense f being at infinity with infinity for eternity.
Every day we grow closer together, I wish though that the weight was over, though I'm sure as the sands of the hourglass grow thin gregory and yrogerg my inverted twin can feel the love flow in.