Wednesday, September 10, 2014

Poem No.2

Odd Dream

It’s an old trick
Start by finding a doll or a statue.
Position yourself comfortably before it.
It will take you there.
Look into its eyes.
Focus.
Nothing will happen at first.
Your legs might cramp up but don’t move them.
Don’t move anything. Allow yourself to become fixed.
Fixed in time and space.
Don’t feel. Stop Feeling.
Several hours should have passed by now.
The light has changed.
Let the light keep changing.
Two eyes merge into one.
The third eye is not located on the forehead but between the two eyes.
Beginner’s mistake.
Now look into it.
All thought has ceased, by now.
You can’t feel but you can sense.
You are being turned inside out.
The skin falls away.
Everything falls away.
There is only darkness.
You are not you any longer, “you” were left behind with the skin.
Back there.
A long time ago.
You are free finally, free from “you”.
You realize what a burden “you” are.
How heavy “you” are.
When you breathe the breath fills every part of you, each and every time.
It feels like being repeatedly submerged in cool refreshing water.
You are cleaner ever time.
Even this ceases eventually.
And you become vast.
You become dispersed.
You become bigger than reality.
You swallow up reality.
At this point the beginner will believe they have reached the place.
Another mistake.
You are not alone, now.
The vast old ones blow by in the distance.
The distances are so colossal that if you moved, you would not be moving.
You sense other beings.
Compared to them you are totally insignificant.
Fear overtakes the beginner.
They are unable to notice you, you are so inconsequential.
Your smallness terrifies you.
Not just the smallness, but the bareness.
You are fully and completely exposed.
You try to hide and the place you turn, when that happens, is the place.
It has something like a smell.
Like smoke.
You know where you are.
There is something like sound.
To the beginner it sounds like screams but that is not what that is.
It is what the truth sounds like.
The sound like thing is piercing you.
The beginner will want to quit at this point.
At this point you feel yourself being destroyed.
You feel like you are being shredded alive.
Then the burning comes.
You never sensed pain this sharp.
At this point you are really beginning to break.
All the remaining barriers are being twisted and pulled apart, as they are being incinerated.
You never sensed hurt this deep.
The energy that time gives off is combusting.
At this point you sense the truth is near.
It is not what you thought.
It demands greater sacrifice.
You have not even sacrificed the tiniest drop of what it demands.
Yet, your obliteration is so total and so complete.
You are nothing.
You are less than nothing, now.
You turn into the nothingness that you are, crushed by the magnitude of your failure.
Then you realize there is a whole additional vast reserve of yourself you never knew you had.
A monstrous landscape had been hidden from you, before.
You can spend the rest of eternity exploring it, without having seen a speck of it.
The truth demands all this and much, much more.
You hate the truth.
Never have you felt such violent hatred.
The violence of your own hatred makes you forget everything.
The hatred shatters all your memories.
All your hopes and desires splinter away.
It tears apart your aspirations, and wants and all that is good in you.
The hatred destroys your capacity to want anything, including the truth.
You are finally starting to see.
You didn’t come here to find the truth, you fool.
The truth is one of the smallest things here.

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