Thursday, April 17, 2008

Kenotic "Solo" Mondo

((who's there?))
(((buddha who?)))

How many Buddhists does it take, anyway,
To make a revolution?

NONE: change comes from **Within**. The very same Voice
That is Now
composing these thoughts

Sounds them in your head as you read them.
So who's
This? Or **This**?

A Silent voice that has always spoken
**Louder**, much louder than words.

Our **Voice** now sings the Universe Electric. It is
the stated goal of Western science: to capture this energy in a bottle,
In a nuclear bomb, for example, or a vial full of a life-saving drug.

So who's in charge, Here? Who's Voice **is

The Voice of Divinity, resounding, or**
just a machine?



In what cosmos, what mythos, do we now live? This is what I see:

[[(Absolute Supremacy)/**NO 1'S LAND**// ((Absolute Subjugation))]]

I call this CELLf-imprisonment: the misconception of our selves as
quantum singularities absolutely and eternally divided from the
Beloved. When we look up into the night sky, we almost always implode
our psyches into black holes by conceiving our selves as dust motes,
infinitesimal and insignificant.

In this misbegotten cosmos, the little slashes represent every Wall of
Denial in existence, especially the ones we hide behind from within.
Our misconception of what it means, to be a human self, is the root of
our problems.

This is the source, I believe, of the First Noble Truth. Humanity,
the Buddha said, is impaled on the twin horns of "Is" and "Is not."
Hidden here is the Law of the Excluded Middle. Our assumption of its
inviolability imprisons us in quantum singularities of PAIN.

That which looks is looking from out of its self, into itself. Since
I am my own source, what is being "birthed"? what is "dying"?

Path there is, NO 1 walking;
sound in your head
there is, NO 1 talking.

Society, I say, is impaled on the twin horns of the following bull:
*Cisterna mystica*, or mechanical receptacle? Being Aware of
Becoming, or mere machine?

{(Vessel) + (Flow)} = BAM!bino
{(hands) + (the will to clap)} = CLAPPING
{(words) + (Beloving)} = Being Aware of our own Becoming

{(Self-filling/self-emptying)} Mystic Vessels, /cisterna mystica/, I
suggest, are the fundamental units of this cosmic field, which I
express as a haiku:

out of the infinite
coalescing, We Stand; We Fall, decaying,
back into the infinite

Which is more famously expressed as *E pluribus, Unum*, Out of Many,
Union. The many grains are gathered by many hands to form one loaf,
which is broken and becomes many again.

{beloved}/UNION/{Beloved} is a "more perfect Union." In Union We Trust!

So, my answer to my question: Being, or machine? is a resounding: HA!

(This blank space is nevertheless not "empty"! It is pregnant with

{First posted on Wednesday 16 April 2008 at Comment #57405}

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