Someway, Somehow (schizophrenia)

limra

they want it to be a museum but its too close to real life, it doesn't seem real, like they really care, it seems like about something else, they want it to be a circus but i just want peace, whenever im stopping it seems like theyre starting again
im crazy there is only me and flo, they dont exist, there is no history
if you have an idea of that beforehand, you are a fool of fools, good luck to you
i talk poetically but my situation is sad
i watch my moods bounce along, i watch death rise and fall like the tides
never flooding
i watch the sky and the clouds and the spheres of colored light and the numinous part in my heart hears you,
why are we so different, we bounce along everything seems like a blessing and a song
yet so hard another person is to dance with
no body like you,
soon ill be dead, ill be dead if i live the truth, and did i even want to be alive?
life is being given to me, and i understand its beauty the Yomo speaks through it all
all of us we are her, great mother, in all, all this story, with its intricate meanings at every turn and nuance, the angels, the demons in synchronicity in woven celestial lore, a koan of nowness, an aloha stanza, a momentary rising sense of home
i offer the commonplace beauty in a life
before i go and dwell a while in it reflecting, there is solace there
i find i can't leave anymore, in the woods, they just take me...
oh home, oh world, oh captors, fools of babylon, yet even we speak blindly
intuition is the language of the struggle, peace, love like abstract paintings
like collages of the rain
i am in the oily river, breaking up the blocks
i wash at the lake,
i am married first to you flo and secondly to this land
for we both did come of the trees, oh it is different being living fruit
as all is alive, and speaking truth
nourishment of the soul
i have a poem, of it here, for those who would hear, and like missing teeth
the rings of life are lit
shining from the center that old sun
horizon, smoking another spliff

they say you're trapped and surrounded
and what do you do, you fly through distinctions
and the secrets of the Goddess, secrets, only from you personally
they would never understand, the ice, the warning, the dreaming band, would i die?
i follow so many, i am attached in so many ways, who i seem to be vanishes in astrology
who they are comes again, false dharma, everywhere, life spilling from, the river
at the edge of eternity
they'd followed us here even its true, shamans are we are, so life is here, as well, just as well, what mechanism this is, i know not, and we flee from all that we can, yet there is no rest, it must be something divine, the divine mysteries, the reasons to all of the whys,
wise
they say you're trapped, you're surrounded, everywhere you go you are already speaking
your thoughts are outside everything has fallen into the street, we read it like so many scrambled eggs, innocent like the first break of the dawn
i write poetry but really im dying, im killing myself but really they're just cruel
oh chi of life flow as ye will, and swing back into, perhaps it is their way,
the calendar, they were saying something, the holidays has some strange meaning, they've chosen me for all this,
but of course, they are naught but the spirits loving and empty, across the battlefield of life, the sprouts, the spirit trees, the old bits of beautiful things, charred and mixed together
none of it means anything to me, i would die if i didn't tell you, i understand it all came back to them, it was tao speaking, it is the universe alive, and they say to look there, but everywhere i looked and only then did it come but not from everywhere or anywhere,
the cats in the rain, the ghosts leaving coming and going, the truth of the meditation, the zazen, the death of all teachers, the death of all illusion, no it followed none of their protocol, wayless, meaningless, bound to be betrayed, endless in its scope, like the only truly dead stone


is this all it is? just art? just notions? just insane devotion and bad vision, just lack of perception, just lack of words?
at a point it means something, created and creating, no it was the voice destroying my life, was it God? every way there was death and destruction, no path made any remote sense, all along they had no conception, and were offended at our rage

death seemed to be coming closer, it would have to come, these are foolish dreams, life is too simple to be surrounded by idiots


may as well not understand just be totally free, even try to understand who cares, its all ****ing, its all infinity, every single thing is full every thing is the whole thing, there was no more us or me then, i didn't care about the coincidences, the alignments, the fakeness
i didn't care life or death, or the story, i took it purely and returned home, cows


i dont care about germany or russia, i don't care about bush
i care about the trees because i care about my peace
and i think there comes a time for everyone where you realize they are messing specifically with you,
when you realize, everyone is being kept seperated for some reason, and fake ones are going in their place
this is the extent of the system and what it does you figure, not even as covert but just to stay alive, but we also do things, that is why we have always been here, even without meeting one another usually, still we know
its like the connections between ancient cultures who were so similar yet had no contact, or supposedly so, maybe contact in an unseen way, which 'they' dont want to be known as true or real, but it happens,
sometimes we must wipe the slate clean



i just sense a lack of discipline and whoever is nourishing this is a great fool, yet perhaps it is the mother of all, old ways ring true, druids come and go, transforming themselves into the mushrooms,

if i must die let me die
ive been inconsiderate, though ive tried
im stumbled though ive come far
almost makes you think this schizophrenia thing is real, which is some comfort at a point
a skeptic vantage point of divine and humoristic love, some kind of point system based in the biblical nemorium,

to the spirits all of them, a shaman would say
and good things, the universe would come through her then
none would see, none would know, the bones scattered across many worlds
idiots around, and demons all futile and annoying in their banter
all resonating with the eternal source
all dancing in the foolishness of sense
that ugly aoinre! i'll wagon the days with a lamp of gentle cares
and set forth chanting then with you
isn't that all the dance all this wanti way,
as it lives here, and here,
what is it, what does the soul say, something opening
AWOLO!




why are we living at such an immature level and pretending that its real? why have we disallowed ourselves to say collectively **** it, this is bull****, why do we insist so thoroughly, and wallow in such stupidity and ultimate self destruction, away from our interests and the things that have true virtues? why are we still distinguishing between gods and religions when everything is part of the sacred oneness of the experience of life, and nothing even need be pronounced or disputed, because we can't live here, we think we must change but we just have to grow and we've learned to make a good home, but a good home around the home, community and not just among humans but also all life welcoming and vibing with spirit in a pure aloha sense. im right where they all thought i would be and theres nothing i can do really except die, life itself is bhakti, everything is love, love is something true something real, something personal, yet shared, the fairies understand and we are them and they are us, the ancient magic which makes it all alive, let it flow first it is in the seed, and in our hands, this lesson is true and it is no secret, sow many seeds, even wildly if you must, the sun the wind the earth and the rain appreciate the help and will sort out the proper happening, all is right in the sequence of events,
all is one,




but oh the bonnie hills of scottlands and i say bonnie just by chance, shaman of the song, you're forgetting, the waning moon
only magic the way out of this
by the great light and virtue of this moon of moons,
may we find deliverance from the doom of stranger loons
false friends and traps of runes
made to sway and make us boobs
may it return to them who send, and be nothing to
us others in the end,
may grace come true and truth be known
joy run free to all that be, and wanti be shown




the chance that these are just innoculous vibrations is slim to nil, theyre coming from something, they are like small whales, almost frightening diisturbing, reaching out, speaking, singing, symbolizing.

all hands were on deck, we thanked the whales for their contribution to the shamanic story
then meditated and continued yogic practices.





Within the church, we have been identified as Satan (Kernunnos), yet our hearts are full of love, we were called to this life path for a reason though, damnit!

i might gain the enlightenment from any fallen leaf or blade of grass, from any breathe or awkward pause, everything becomes alive with meaningless meaning purposeless purpose, you begin to channel beings from elsewhere because there is only emptiness and thus the river is made, into what? the whole creation is taken in, to the enlightenment, where it has always dwelled, shades of thought and being,

this is my last incarnation.

(bows)




but think how would you feel if there was some strange foreign missionary religion hurling itself at you in egotistical ways through windows and all around you outside, dictating shamanism kingship and sly and the family stone? using evil symbols and living in the ignorance of the people, what does it mean, is god some strange miracle where the truth is coming through fully, it has come it erupts it is spontaneous and knowing, to heal oneself from this, from being forced too much too soon, and thrown off course, because of it

why do they appear so quietly, what is it all about? are people actually living here by choice?
it seems like a bizarre cult, everything fixed and generic, hard to understand anything outside of that, but the plants know a bit, mostly theres rose mary and pines you notice, and the wheat, but too much patriarchy and the stories of everyone, and the pictures, maybe it is, just heritage and the people who live here, thats what life is really like here, something about it makes sense in an odd familiar way, its like coming down after a really long time, feeling some kind of ground there, some kind of truth to this, i hadn't conceptions of this kind of thing in so long, something about the trees, the leaves, the pink flowers, the fan.

the lack of explanation, the simulation of ritualistic occult death, all of it had to do with the goddess, they were strange and ancient symbolic practices, from another culture, but nonetheless they resonated deeply with me, and changed my perceptions in a way spoken world had not, spoken world was more and more polluted and less and less was that quiet little guy who said those really deep things.

it was some strange trip that cleared up partly, how much had been done, without realizing it, i look back at that which the fool who came before me and now surrounds me, whom it seems at times i must slay and yet, the peace in me overflows and everything is love, have i even been born? stranger and stranger it all seems, and perhaps it is wrong, perhaps there is nothing i can do, i submit to the tao, submit to true love, no limits, break free from wierd limitations, and 'kick it' old school.




theyre just trying to use us to cut down trees, but they can't, because we care and we have heart, because the fairies and animals and every plant and God and the Goddess are one with us, their divisions and manipulations are false and old fashioned, we will not entertain their trickery, real love, real life, real situations are our truth, we speak out and we care, we're not perfect but we understand each other well enough, we don't hurt anyone, all beings are equal, life is precious, through life the paths we weave are vibrations from the parts of our soul which is still drifting out there, if we can unite all of it, then we are free from incarnation and reincarnation, there is samadhi, timelessness, bliss, realization
the parts of our soul are everywhere, under every rock, in every tree and birdsong, every passing face, but we can't run up and take people faces, because we see our center is very different from what we normally think, actually our center is deep at the center of all, thats why we exist in so many worlds, from wanti to this one, and experience them all in some degree through our feelings

when a soul comes together everything benefits and the whole universe, tao, chi runs smoother through it, existence is more beautiful for all, because one means so much, really one is the whole thing, so the great mother knows first each individual even individual atoms, the way, the nurturing the guidance, this is true, she is all things, and her wisdom is the source of all, she is the kaballah and the road of the wild reeds, she is the path trodden by the wheelless ones, and the simple tree, which has the glow

union with our identity as her in her, we are restored, but she is not any physical sign, but an allness, an expansiveness, she is the very sky, the sky of the sky, and the earth of the earth, dig, like butterflies of beauty
wafting toasty swirl
your refrigerator waters haiku
drip drop
cabbage soup

we end it with vibrations of love and joy for the trees peace among all nature, calmness, lightheartedness and nondoing among the warriors, and coolness among the zen priests and priestesses of the modern day who enlighten someway, somehow.

YOMO YAVEYETTA!