Dog Poet Transmitting.......
There is a tumbleweed lodged in the mouth of an old washing machine. It's laying on its side and the wind howls through it... making as many variations on a single note as The Wind is capable of doing, and... I am recognizing... as I stand a short distance off... that all sound and form appears from the variation of a single note OR... adaptation if you prefer. This is The Graveyard of Material Empires; shit breaks and someone throws it away.
In Italy, they make landfills into small mountains and then plant grass over them. You see them as you drive the main thruway from North to South. A few years before I got there, it was an Italian tradition to offload your broken appliances lakeside... wherever a lake could be found. No one went to the lakes for any other reason. It was also 'a thing' to simply pull to the side of the road and roll whatever it was over the side (if there was a side). Archaeologists would have had a field day...
All over The World, garbage is a big deal. Until recently, and it is... no doubt... still going on, we packed up enormous freighters with the refuse of a disposable culture and sent it off to The 3rd World.
When certain resources get scarce, bankers start a war. Otherwise, it's all a game of Out of Sight... Out of Mind. Like Nevada for nuclear wastes. Like the ocean for whatever lands in it... until there are islands of garbage, much bigger than Manhattan... that have become steaming suicide piles for unsuspecting wildlife; don't get me started on wind-farms and cell-towers.
Yeah... I see all of these conditions, as I motor through this world... on my way somewhere else. It's not that I don't care. Lady Nature is my loving counterpart. She means more to me than I could possibly express. I am intimately aware of her. So... I can hear her travails that... not infrequently... sound like the wind through the washing machine. I hear her cries in all creatures. I hear the human race crying out in despair over its endless mind-traps of imprisonment... self-inflicted... THE... PRIMARY... URGE… AND DRIVE... OF... LIFE... IS... TOWARD... FREEDOM!
The birds in the sky soar and fall in a timeless dance of celebration... that they can... at least temporarily... escape the bounds of Earth. It's child's play to accomplish it, but... once... childhood... has... fled, it is nowhere to be found. It's a... state... of... mind... is what I'm saying; so is the wreckage scattered across the sands... slowly melting away until it is gone, consumed by an invisible fire. Material Culture is a perpetual garbage machine.
Sometimes I look ahead into The Obvious that will follow after the cataclysm comes and goes. I see The Mad Max Landscape... radioactive cockroaches the size of wharf rats. They do look pretty at night. I see all the post-apocalyptic possibilities. Anyone who has lost control of their mind's imaging controls or taken a major hit of bad acid has seen these things. I've seen things that are a so much greater horror due to the fact that they are actually there... even though they are not there... they are there in... your... head. The Mind is the playground of monsters, as well as every other kind of marvelous and divine construction.
It's not a good thing to lose your moorings inside your head, BUT... that is the intention and objective of those on their way to the dark... unknown sea within. It may be that they do not know the course they have set, BUT... any fool can see what is going on in The World of the moment.
It puzzled me for a long time. I couldn't figure out who was doing what. From whence came this mysterious force that made international corporations roll over on their backs? What was forcing world governments to march in lockstep toward a worldwide Weimar Republic? Why were they fomenting race wars... wars between the sexes? These suicidal jihads of self-immolation. Self-abuse and self-injury are epidemic. Basically... it's Crazy Town... Clown Central... everybody is singing The Bug-House Blues. There are crazy people everywhere. Many of them are already dead and do... not... know... it.
I thought it might be The Usual Suspects. It usually is, especially when a formerly prosperous nation suddenly goes into a steep moral decline (like The Weimar Republic) and huge amounts of the national wealth have disappeared through all manner of exits, including inflation. This had happened so many times over the course of history that it led to well over 100 banishments and expulsions. Do... see... the... historical... record... on... this... matter.
HOWEVER... information has come to me... concerning the overall shift in the collective human mindset, and it can't all be blamed on The Usual Suspects. Because of the very real perils of Materialism, The Heavenly Hierarchy has set certain changes in motion because of what is presently forming in The Event Horizon. It is necessary to recycle everyone... and everything... that is not useful for what is coming.
It's always a... great... big... windup that precedes global change, and... we are in the midst of it. Long-hidden secrets are being revealed. Mr. Apocalypse pulls the covers off someone... or something every day it seems. He also jerks the rug out from under someone else. Those who have vampirized The World for so long are finding the curtains torn away from their daytime sleeping chambers, and the disinfecting sunlight is pouring in. Legend has it that vampires don't like sunlight or... is it that sunlight doesn't like them? I've a feeling it's not personal.
“Look, man... it's not personal. It's just evolution.” The Sun doesn't take things personally. That is one of the keys to immortality.
In the soiled minds of The WEF... in all the corridors and cloisters of temporal power... in the marketplaces of The Masters of Garbage... THEY ALL THINK they are the ones doing whatever it is, AND... they think they are meant to survive whatever they intend to put the rest of us through. They are mere pawns in the process of Global Transformation. A far greater mind is steering The Moment through its surface changes. A far greater mind is holding what is beneath the surface in place.
Recent shifts in my own perspective have provided ample proof to me of what I say here. I do not expect The World to hear this from me or from any of the rest of us who labor in these vineyards. I know those who seek Understanding will find it. Someone is going to be drinking the fermented grapes of wrath. Someone will dine on Ambrosia. You might say it is the luck of the draw... since the whole thing is rigged, BUT... not... exactly...
We are ALL disposed according to our desires and aspirations. Sometimes... The Wheel of Fortune rolls down for this group, and sometimes it rolls up for another. There are profound reasons for everything that occurs. IF... there are steps you can take to put a desirable distance between yourself and what you see around you... then... there are steps you must have taken to get yourself into it as well. It's all that equal but opposite stuff again; some kinda cosmic law.
People are ALWAYS going to blame someone else for what happens to them. There WILL BE scapegoats and sacrificial lambs. It MAY seem out of proportion, BUT... everything is weighed and adjusted to the nth degree. There are no accidents. There are no innocent bystanders. There is no injustice. Whatever you encounter is something you set up at an earlier time.
I KNOW that people do not want to hear this. That... changes... NOTHING. I am not the sort to complain. I am the sort that looks for solutions. Since my own facilities and information are limited, it has become my habit to seek out the finer understandings of a greater wisdom. I can't get these understandings unless... I... become... as... a... little... child.
To become as a little child is not to regress into childish behavior. An older man can identify as a 7-year-old girl. That... does... not... make... him... one. The secret of the matter is tied up in an awareness of innate Humility. It is the recognition of how little you know in comparison to The Wisdom of The Father and The Divine Mother. They each have their areas of operation.
Becoming as a little child means to gain a perspective on your utter reliance, (like... it... or... not) on The Life Power. If you cannot discover this humility, you... will... have... it... visited... upon... you. Life will bend and twist you back into the fetal position you were in before you arrived the last time. Right away, you start looking for something to put in your mouth.
The crazy shit you see everywhere now is simply another progression of Materialism. It moves in stages. If it has you in its grip, you had better seek help soonest. If you are more or less free of its nonsense then... more power to you, as that is certain to follow.
It's all a remarkable and well-oiled machine that turns in absolute precision, its... wonders... to... perform. The trick is to understand, as... much... as... is... possible how it works. Love drives the engines. Love charts the course. Love begins and concludes the matter. Love is all you need to know about any of it. There is no end to love. Even the most brilliant of our kind that has ever traveled here... has not measured or experienced the heights and depths of Love. It cannot be done. It's a wonderful thing.
End Transmission.......
A very few links are to be found at GAB=
When you get the time, you might be surprised at what is possible here if you read between the lines= Brain Massage with Sri Yantra
5 comments:
You said it, but those that need to hear it don't wanna.
NOSTRILS TO THE SKY!!!!!!
"Lady Nature is my loving counterpart. She means more to me than I could possibly express."
Me too.
They will declare: Every journey has been taken.
You shall respond: I have not been to see myself.
They will insist: Everything has been spoken.
You shall reply: I have not had my say.
They will tell you: Everything has been done.
You shall reply: My way is not complete.
You are warned: Any way is long, any way is hard.
Fear not. You are the gate – you, the gatekeeper.
And you shall go through and on . . .
—Alexandros Evangelou Xenopouloudakis, THIRD WISH
Mas and Mas Visible
Grateful for the posting, as with many others of the Dog Poet in service, with prose.
This one brought me back into the experience this past april. Driving into the Sierra Madre, in my 98 vw golf only a few miles from the pacific, on a winding pot-holed road. Between the natural beauty of the vegetation, the cumulous clouds , blue sky, the interplay of the sun rays on the road and the leaves of the vegetation i was enthralled by the beauty. Observing the part in me that is approving of the visual impressions in an ever growing intensity, my sympathetic nervous system, the sound of the motor, the sensations of the hands on the wheel and gear shift, everyonce in a while squeezing the leg of the passanger and feet on the clutch and brake and accelerator, until the gas leak in the motor activated the para-sympathetic system, nearly as intensly.
As much as i tried to shut off the entrance of the horrible aggressive benzene smell, to no avail, even turning my nose up, only made it worse, as gases tend to do, more likely to rise, i observed the already known effect of the position of my head shutting down the area of 'conscience' and intuition found at the base of the head, and corrected. While still in the 'womb' of pacha mama with all the other senses, enthralled by the beauty of the passage, the vehicle and companionship (of the birds, many a bluejay, some hawks, papagayos etc ).
This led to memories of a kidnapping, and the subsequent pull into the 'stockholm syndrome' as the gas leak was the kidnapper of an otherwise ethralling experience of being alive in this carbon based body with biped speech-capable nervous system, yet both are within the 'womb' of Mother Nature, Pacha Mama.
She in one way or another gave 'birth' in my consciousness and awareness to these contrary and intense impulses.
As in no town on that sunday was there to be found a means to shut off the leak, no parts for such an old car, this experience continued for many hours, leading finally to the realization that i am indeed trapped, kidnapped, in a literal sense by this 'womb', as long as my Soul has these inputs from this carbon based vehicle. After that insight the relationship with Her started to shift, and still integrating.
The gift of arriving to the the destination , a party next door, some child had a birthday we shared, at the exact moment that the mariachis were playing the 'Happy birthday song', was dubious wrapping on the 'gift' of the day.
Still making the efforts to leave the 'Stockholm syndrome' behind, in order not to partcipate with the ever so enchanting kidnapper in all Her guises.
At some point soon, or not, i will or will not perceive The Pearl that will have to be made by my Soul.
Cheerful Love, grizzlyBear hug
unuk
A new Visible Origami is up now=
"The Power of God and The Power of Cosmic Change CANNOT Be Opposed by Anyone. They are Simply Worn Away."
Post a Comment