THE TREE OF IGNORANCE 01
Where have I been all my life ? Trying to get to the Me, giving myself the evil I.
The inner master told me to get out of the garden and return when I had learned not to think...
Now feeling mortal for the first time, ( an occupational hazard in this realm.) I am already
haunted by my own ghost. Not doing what I felt I should, caused problems with the flesh
machine. When information was needed , I went to the street and watched, to a forest and
flowing river-but still the guardian angel drifted off.
It’s all in the mind, the chemicals, but what’s in the chemicals ? I know. I know I knew, trying
to stay polite in self disgust. Perhaps it was only the depression which kept me calm.
I turned my face up to a falling leaf and laughed with the pleasure of connection.
The silver trail of the pushchair in the rain, the babe leaning to see the wheels describe a line, our
eyes met in delight at the mystery ! Epiphanies in Klamovka Park, for one with too much time on
his hands. Walking down the path with semicircles of water and into the flow...
Moments of illumination, refined, distilled, then pissed into a sink. Years of training lost through
steady non attendance. Not enough months before the mirror with candleflame. Acres of alien
landscapes mapped, to be filed away forever. (Started to wonder if I’m doing my job here
properly, am I taking this all light- heartedly enough ? Am I making the most of man, human and
spirit ? The answer is why I am writing this.)
Tasting knowledge meant accepting responsibility
I tasted ignorance and kept my freedom
Adam and Eve blended opposites in harmony
human symbols of energy
One offered the chance, one agreed to accept
each contained the other
So this is how legends get started
(after the waves and clouds have parted)
due to historians and poets who can string a metaphor together
An amnesiac god, his place in the scheme of things is assured whatever he does, but this is not
enough for him. The prophet and priest imprisoned together where cell windows are only
uncovered at night.
NO CREATOR NEED BE PERFECT TO REALISE BEAUTY.
I used to get envious of suicides
those heroic cowards who looked desperate
when they stopped smiling.
I chose to throw away school and embrace the unknown till it was not
then pleaded for a breakdown to exorcise the madness
Thought I knew what I was doing, felt I knew what I was being.
And so the bewildered innocent continued eating the apple of ignorance.
Seven thousand, three hundred nights on floors, weeping to music
So lost that any attempt at returning would leave me stranded, so I decided to stay.
The balance is thrown by anything heavier than Light
(I am talking to my self discovery).
In endless memories of eternal future, before blank canvas, the empty page, the open silence.
Maybe God wanted to create an expression of beauty too. Perhaps It did.
Perhaps It didn’t WANT, but only DID what It WAS. Attention to detail with sketches in Light
joining the dots with atoms.
If concentration is an act of love and the focus of imagination and Will is energy,
then all Creation is Love. The infinate heart as palette, Eternity as the canvas.
Standing back to observe, and thus change with unconditional compassion
THE PAINTING WHICH EVOLVES ITSELF.
Then the world disappeared around me. What had I to lose but my reason to live?
I covered the mirror with a collage, but this had the same effect.
Returned to the frustration of those who’ve glimpsed the Big Picture again and again
gone back to their lives with a sense of higher understanding
then lost sight of it all once more.
Took a few endless years but I reached the door, a sign said;
Do Not Be Disturbed
All my life for this consolation prize
Your rivers have become sewers to serve your towerblocks of standing stones
Your shrines now resemble urinals and your history is is a fairytale without the romance
So it’s business as unusual. Kids these days don’t know they’re dead eh?
On hearing the uncensored version of my rant, the inner master unlocked the gates and bid me a
welcome return as a non thinking being.
Face to face with failure in a mirror which burned my eyes
This last year almost broke me, humble now in empathy. I will try not to swoon amid
the gardenia and nightingale song when lost in the pallid satire which is my life when I forget
my discipline.
I had it years ago. Have to get back to my own religion before the magazine streets of disco cops,
stormtrooper models and spastic Arabian graffiti incite me to fresh outrages of bad taste.
When any system has a surplus of poison, it will reject it-this is a Law.
Too young to be this serious
Too old to behave this way
Let’s kick Narcissus into the river
And watch him drift away
Attend to the moment,that’s all that’s required
Look forward to Now, this messiah’s retired...
There’s no saint here to annoint you
The way it is,is how you are
Only perspective can disappoint you
A temporary home for a permanent star.
THE LITTLE PRINCE WITHIN, LOOKS ON AND LAUGHS...
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