Advaita Notebook  

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April 2010



Everything is Poised

The world is a coiled spring
Nothing but potential
Tigers are about to pounce
Cobras aiming to strike
Everything is poised
The next thing is always
About to happen

When you come to the edge
Of everything
And join that tension
All is movement
Going nowhere

A timeless knife edge
That you can lie back on
And relax

Hop on
And it will take you
Where you need to go
And with that wind in your face
The view is
Magnificent




Sick of Class

I got sick of class
Listening to versions
Of myself
Telling me things
I imagined I didn't know

Sitting up straight
With my pencil and book
Saying yes
And rubbing out mistakes

Once
Before anyone could
Stop me
I jumped up and took over
Told them to
Pay attention
And write down everything
Exactly as I said

Everyone obeyed
And I saw through the game
Instantly

These days
When someone tells me
How to find God
I just say

Oh yeah!
Right!









This Grudge

I would like to hold this grudge
Against the universe
But to my dismay
It's slipping away
And suddenly I'm
Enjoying what I shunned

It's so unfair because
I have every reason
To be resentful
And I've gathered enough evidence
To prosecute God
And put him away

Now
Due to happiness
The whole case will
Have to be
Postponed







Fish and Chips

How could I not believe in
Fish and chips
Hot in paper
With a squeeze of lemon

Do I turn away from
Non duality
To become one pointed
On that golden taste

How could such pleasure
Be unreal
This is indeed an intense scene
In the play

Yet a delicious dish
Like fish and chips can be
Enjoyed by no one
Just as much

And that shift is as light
As a sprinkling of salt






On the Right Track


Why do you write this stuff?
He said
Do you want to make
A fool of yourself?

Oh yes please!
I replied
Knowing it was
All up to him

Yes that's my purpose
And I want to express
My incompetence
And illogicicity

If the worst happens
I'll be so embarrassed
I'll shrink to nothing

Well you're on the right track
He said
Congratulations!

And I felt so ashamed







This is so Different


There never has been
A thousand years
Or a drawn out war
Or a boring day
There is only ever this
With it's story in
No time

Don't think time is
Standing still
This is so different
That time isn't

This is so different
To the nothing else
Left to compare

If you read this line twice
Nothing is repeated
There is no again

The impossibility of other
Makes this so different
That it can't be got
By itself
Let alone
Not you





Ever so Busy


Sometimes it seems he needs
My help or company
And I am so grateful
And willing
And drop everything

But he's ever so busy
And as soon as
One thing's over
He's off on another
Forgetting even a kind goodbye

Don't get me wrong
I'm not complaining
But it can leave you at
A loose end
To say the least

Especially when you start
Setting the table for two
And feeling you know
His ways





What are Words?

What are words?
Let's ask them

Here they are now
Jumping along
Creating a trail of meaning
Trying to explain themselves

Each one jumps to the next
Notice?
How could they see themselves
And say something sensible?

They have about as much chance
As You
Loong Fow and Keeng Chee


That splendid ancient
Loong Fow
Fully embodied the
Great Knowledge
By bowing to the
Murderous and insulting
Keeng Chee
Offering his own head as
The most humble gift

Keeng Chee wasted no time in
Beheading Loong Fow
Instantly severing any attempt
To interpret


A Broken Heart

A broken heart
Just breaks you
There's no mending anything

God has spoken
And broken you up
Into fundamental pieces
That listen to no one
But him

It's tempting to think
You can learn something
And move on
But when I stretch
To do that
I just shatter
Into more bits
Knowing this is it




 To Get in Touch

There's a part that keeps me safe
Scanning for danger
And another that wants to
Trip me into thin air
And hunts disaster

When I wasn't expecting it
I felt my legs begin to shake
And I allowed them to buckle
And collapse

Finally I lay on the ground
Happily knowing
Something was trying
To get in touch





The Latter Type


One type of madness
Allows a person to be
Aware of their condition
And make allowances
Or joke about themselves
Or even express their wisdom


But in the other type
The person has no idea of
Their state of mind

They believe in the aliens
They can clearly see
And don't have a problem

It's really of no use
Knowing that you and I
Belong to
The latter type


Either Way

If there really is not two
And oneness is true
Then there is either no me
Leaving Thee
Or no Thee
Leaving me

Either way
It's pretty good






That Kid Accelerating


That kid accelerating
In his ute
Speaking to the world
Through his exhaust pipe

Is he not enlightened
Is he not free?

He's having a ball
Unfortunately
And the only lesson
To be learned
Is for me to do likewise

And flatten it







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