Waking Sleeping Beauty and Uncovering the Light

Visible Origami — Jan 27, 2016

Dog Poet Transmitting…….
There is a profound beauty in the greatest commandment; “thou shalt love the lord thy god with all thy heart, with all thy soul and with all thy mind.” I might have the sequence wrong but I’m thinking that’s not important. This is how I understand it. We are mirrors, catching reflections. If you have ever seen the Macroprosopus (before anyone says anything, this is much older than when the Israelis hijacked it) it will be quite clear what is being said by the image. I shouldn’t even have to elucidate. Most of you will get it right off. What is the best way to achieve communication with the ineffable? You mirror the ineffable with your heart, mind and soul, a sort of ‘right back at you’ thing.
How do you mirror what you cannot see? Hmmm. Love projects and Love reflects. All Love is borrowed from the ineffable so, with the use of The Creative Imagination. Add it to itself= the third trump, The Empress and you get trump 6, The Lovers. Interestingly, I did not know this before it happened. I saw number three and I thought, yeah… that works. So you got mirroring again. I love it when something like that happens. It’s just more proof of what has been proven to me more times than I can remember. I love that line; ‘more times than I can remember’ and when it sneaks up on me like it just did, that is wonderful.
When you love the lord thy god with all your heart, with all your soul and with all your mind, the ineffable reflects it right back at you and that is the point. It’s not some dictatorial command of do it or else. It is a secret hiding in plain sight. It is a statement of certitude, determination and faith, demonstrated in a phrase which, when followed, leads you to a paradise of magical, mystical wonder, unfolding into wonder. It should be plain as day and as much as we could manage here, with our limitations being what they are. Isn’t that a beautiful thing? All you have to do is follow it. Sure, you might be inconsistent at first but the fantastic thing about Love is that it is intoxicating and addictive; cue Robert Palmer.
Love makes everything easier. We know this. When you love something or someone, there is no effort involved. It is a joy to perform. If it is about learning to do something you love, you can’t stop doing it. You love doing it. There are exceptions to this, for instance, sometimes you are not allowed to do something you love; like me and playing guitar. The ineffable prefers (at this time) that I dedicate my energies into other mediums, or so it seems.
Is there anything we seek more desperately or long for more than to be in love? Look at the timeless poetry. Look at the main subject in most songs; except these days when it is all about animal domination of your significant under, preferably from behind so that she, or he (in some cases) knows their place. I don’t like being crude but the focus of 99% of rap, which is not music, is all some variation of ‘let me drag you into Hell and degrade you every step of the way there.” Kind of like the irony of Jackson Pollock and his girlfriend on that fatal, drunken night.
However, it should matter not at all what the world does. That has nothing to do with what you do. If the world is hopping up and down like someone who absolutely has to take a leak and can’t get into the bathroom because a couple of people are snorting coke, or each other, that shouldn’t concern your personal quest for union with your true lover, no matter what form he or she comes in, so long as you recognize that seeing the eyes of the almighty in your lover’s eyes; in everyone’s eyes is best but there is a learning curve (grin)
Yes, I know I am being very matter of fact, casual and even pedestrian with that which deserves the sweetest and most heart piercing poetry. I’m trying to get there but for some reason we have to take this route, until we get to that big intersection up ahead and I think there is a sign there that says, ‘For heart piercing poetry, go right at intersection.’ We’ll get there when we get there. Look around you at the longing in everyone’s eyes. Look at them as the scramble to avoid love, as they calculate who and what might fit that description. Are they beautiful and supposedly out of your league? More importantly are they beautiful inside? Can you open them up to reveal the beauty they have concealed until that very moment? You find, if you care enough, that love makes a person beautiful. Love makes them radiant under the force of your love. It awakens Sleeping Beauty. It uncovers the light which is hidden behind the darkness of appearances. It blooms. It turns the mystery of the bud into the flower that springs forth and is an expression of the love concealed in Nature and which happens millions of times every day. It shimmers on the wings of the hummingbird, as glimpses of light flash from between the wings that move too fast to see. It is everywhere around us but… all we see is the murky desire that masquerades as love in times of material darkness.
Base physical desire is like fast food. You’re hungry again half a hour later. It doesn’t satisfy. It doesn’t nourish. It looked good to begin with but it never flowers. It is a weed. There is no love that is not a reflection of the divine in the eyes of the beloved, who is rendered beautiful under the force of the eyes that can see love and draw it forth into that mystical radiance that is our uncovered self revealed and… only love can awaken love. Before our world divides, as it crosses from childhood into the awareness that we are no longer complete, as we were before this happened and we left the 6 of cups and soon enough wind up in that cyclic repetition of the 9 of swords. Somehow our hearts got broken and we became cynical. We confused that with being suave and cool and calculating. This time we won’t have our hearts broken. It will happen to the other side of the equation..
What a terrible dilemma we have constructed for ourselves. We lost the capacity to be vulnerable and love will not appear in any heart that has lost its vulnerability. One’s heart must be open and exposed, else-wise there is no tenderness. Lord Krishna does not appear. Something else now walks between Krishna and Radha. There are brief glimpses of her that appear and disappear. Some kind of a shadow walks ahead of you. You no longer see Radha. You see the distorted image that has been warped into the clown princess of a materialized dust cloud. You are seeing a cartoon. Well over 30,000,000 people have friended, or liked, or whatever the measurement is now, Kim Kardashian. That is one out of every ten people in America. The chipmunks are break dancing on the fallen logs. Kanye West has gone South, frothing and foaming at the mouth. This kind of flatulence is supposed to come from the other end. This is some kind of strange feat of ventriloquism. Demons have their hands up into the hole in his back and the Snoop Dog and Little Wayne and all the rest of them are celebrated as genius because the Satanists who run the industry demand that it be so because it has torn their love broken and bleeding from the devastated hearts of all those people who lost the most precious thing in life and can’t now remember what it was.
The world has turned into a looping Tinder hookup but… we are not looping, except in a cycling helix of eternal and ever renewing Love, because that is the objective of our vulnerable and tender hearts that are unafraid to be broken. The heart weeps tears of joy for its wounded and yet miraculously healed state of endless repair and rises over and over again, soaring under the magic of the ineffable’s wings of joy. Father forgive them for they know not who they are. Self inquiry has given way to the confetti of glitter that somehow has woven itself into the tapestry of smeared and drooling eye shadow. It hangs in the air like strange perfumes, whose globules are suspended in the air and land on your tongue when you pass by, who are like the poisonous sweat that interacts with all those deodorants that are more than necessary because of the bad diets and bad thoughts that are the offspring of square dancing zombies in the hijacked and compromised minds of all those significant unders. Baron Samadhi is calling out, “aleman right and aleman left, just keep that dance going till you run out of breath. “Is it over already? What happened? What do you mean, ‘I’m dead? I just got here.”
Love is a clean sharp sword to the heart and it cuts to the deep, silent center and only god knows cause only god goes and we are the path that he’s making.
I can think of nothing so marvelous as love. The variations blind me with its never ending kaleidoscope of beautiful changes. Love changes into love and then changes back into love. It is so achingly familiar. It is never the same and it is always the same. No matter how high and deep you go, there is always more, higher and deeper, endlessly. It is beyond description and definition but we try anyway. We reach for the words but the words escape us. They fall through the net down into the depths and are buried in the sand. We all try but love is something different in everyone we meet, It accommodates itself to the needs and demands of everyone who pursues it. It goes from a rutting fever to the passion of the saints. It is love and it is not love. It is counterfeited and passed off as the real thing. Only the discerning heart can tell the difference. If the heart is wise it will recognize it. If the heart is foolish it will take whatever satisfies the needs of the moment and that is where the larger percentage of transitory affections now finds itself, or doesn’t find itself at all, come think of it.
Love is more beautiful, more sustaining, more life giving than any other force. It can make you immortal, if you impress it, because love is conscious. Love has so many chambers, avenues, secret passages, entire hidden kingdoms that are reminiscent of Coleridge, “where Alph the sacred river ran, through caverns measureless to man, down to a sunless sea.” Is that the heart of darkness or is that a deep and bottomless reservoir that is made luminous by a single heart that recognizes what it has found.
The power of love is the power of god. As has been said in many times and places, “God is love.” Love is God, fathomless, endless… gate gate paragate, some gate some don’t gate. Once you have found love you need nothing else. Everything else will come eagerly and willingly to the one who has love. Love is the major attractor of all good things and the most dynamic and powerful truth concerning this is that it will attract the ineffable. The ineffable will see it because the ineffable lives in the place where love is not only discovered but stored and expressed as well.
Love opens things
So love would hurt as much as heal
It would hurt first
Real love-
It would confuse, disarm, weaken and destroy
Everything in its way
Everything that was, in fact,
A part of you
That would conceal
Real love
Real love lasts forever
We do not last as long
until we become
real love
Real love has come to town
Six gunqs blazing in a town full of lies
Now is the showdown
The duel in the street
Real love is the only one left standing
Real love rides alone
Squints out of one good eye
Nails the coffin shut
Nothing got out alive
But real love
Real love is going to make you cry
Make it worse before it gets better
Tear you up inside
Real love-
Who would want such a thing?
It takes the atmosphere away
Breaks all your toys
Burns down your house
And steals your car
But you’re not going very far
Real love has got its hands on you
Burns from the inside out
There is nothing left
Nothing but wide prairie
And huge commanding stars
You’ve never been so alone
You’ve never been so complete
Outside this golden ring
The cities burn forever
And you can never fall asleep
real love…
In Search of Rest
the image of love in
the mirror
into a whirlpool of desire
we cannot maintain our balance
and so we fall
was it love?
we are the fuel
and when we are gone
there is no flame
i became brilliant beneath the light of your love
i was alive
and only then was i alive
woven into tapestries of color and sound
where have you gone?
i look for you in every face
but i do not fall in love
i remain apart
one wing in an empty sky
somewhere inside
a woman moves
and at night she often dances
in perfect breath with me
this is the woman with whom i am truly close
this is the only woman
mother of God
sound and fury
silence absolute
beautiful beyond description
terrifying in full approach
the mind dissolves
“be still my child
no harm will come to you
strong men i bring them down
and suck them dry
but my child may dwell in safety”
i looked too hard and too long
i found her and now i cannot return
there is no dream of life that can be believed
there is only the vastness of space
the appearance of time
and the differing weight…
sometimes heavy
like the sorrow of a long past
sometimes light as an angels hand upon your shoulder
steering a course through the stormy heavens
and planetary wars fought in human form
until the last day
she is everywhere
in unseen miniature multiplied
in the air
the earth
the dancing flesh
she takes me in my sleep
flying up the long corridor to my bright home
why is it difficult to leave the fields of play?
here among the doomed flowers
the gravity of bones
the brief exhalation of life
young girls press the pulse
and draw the essence forth
into the raging holocaust
of passion rampant
on a field of blood
“i will protect you my child
i will wash the worlds of form from your heart
i will remove the sword above your head
i will teach you to dance
but you will dance for me alone”
it is the greatest heartbreak
the destruction of the false self
dreamed by the self
and revealed to the self
at separations end
the terror of mortal pain
the agony of life’s constant march
unending loss of everything
unending loss of everything
it hurts to be free
freedom is too much to bear
too difficult to accept
the luminous door appears
and the mind cries out for darkness
it slithers under floorboards and rocks
to hide from immortality
“i will protect you my child
i will hold you as yourself
we are woven as one
eternity and time
in a world where everything but truth dies
but which few see
in a world that begins and ends forever
that is the playground
for a mind magnetized by dust
in a world were everything is broken
no heart is safe
in a world of mostly water
for it is a world of mostly tears
in a world where love is crucified
no lie is safe
in a world of contrasts
and desperate flights
and measureless descent
where everything is written on
or built out of sand
that flows to the bottom of an all forgiving sea
in a world of waiting
and hoping
where every dream comes true
and then loses its meaning and disappears
in a world of rumors
and dying swans who mate for life
we move to and fro
in search of rest
impelled by need
in search of rest
tormented by flies and furies
in search of rest
burning in the long night
in search of rest
in search of rest
in search of rest
“i will protect you my child
i have built a garden of delight
it hangs iridescent in the air
it gleams in a drop of water
it spins in the living breath”
a love serene
the emptiness of mind
the holding of one
the mirror of light
the bloom of begotten worlds
sent forth
in search of rest
in search of rest
in search of rest…
End Transmission…….
Sunday’s radio broadcast is hovering in the saucer pod at this location.



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