The Conditioned Mind / shuts off magical vision and gnosis / gives up freedom, truth, real choices / loses sight of love, trust, and social coherence / loses touch with organic life, gives way to interference // risks personal wellbeing, peace of heart, balance of mind / is tricked into believing we need power, money, lies / and people to lead us by the nose into violence and war / is hypnotised, drugged, poisoned, misinformed.
Jay WoodmanTags: truth freedom vision peace mind heart trust balance magical organic gnosis wellbeing conditioned
You are a child of the universe
Come to choose how to live here.
You are a child of the universe
Loved beyond measure.
The steady soul and the ego pretender / walk with their arms round each other's shoulders / through the mirage.
Jay WoodmanTags: soul ego pretend steady pretender mirage-publishing
There are always exquisite things and times to remind us of the original source of all beauty and love.
Jay WoodmanHug while you can.
Jay WoodmanTags: hug
In every atom, there is a reflection of the whole.
Jay WoodmanConsciousness is everywhere, let it fill you up.
Jay WoodmanTags: consciousness
Find what is meaningful to you and stand by it. Even if you begin to wonder if there is any meaning to anything, continue to be yourself.
Jay WoodmanTags: meaning standards meaningful
from the prose poem "The Universe Thrums on regardless" in my book SPAN.
We are almost nothing in the night. Reduced to warm blobs and the sound of breathing. There is comfort in that.
Tags: poetry night breathing comfort nothing prose-poem
YEN
What happens if you take a cup? Put it to your lips. A cup of desire. Of dazzling colour. Of intoxicating aroma. You can't resist. Drink. And in the bottom of the cup. There is a fish. And the fish says "You have uncovered me! Now I am condemned. To die."
What happens if you find a box? 35mm by 35mm exactly. And are curious. You open it quickly. Of course. And inside there is an eye. And the eye seems to think that the box is its exclusive property. And fixes you with a terrifying glare.
What happens if you catch a soft sound? A voice whispering in the air. Above the tree tops. And you can't quite hear what it is saying. But you have to listen. So you float up. Then you find you can't come down again. When the conversation is finished.
Tags: poem prose-poetry span yen
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