polygons and the razor's edge

POLYGONS OF LEPID'S SURVEY, WHERE HE WOULD LAND: I felt sure in some sense that memory espoused better than vapors a thing hidden in plain sight, withheld in the redound presence mine with the mission of its acquiry. I knew it was there and felt sullen not all of this plain of experience was objective (leaving little to expedite and sort out?) and still alighted to summary feeling more proliferate. The spry essense (nothing avails) and expense to go to find a lighter in this case ... sitting right in front of me, and I couldn't see it, sussed and not revealed. And so I reached there, my arm jagged as if pitch lightning furrows out of my head. It was there. ************* *************Eat the glass. The mask had cranberry glass vase-like quality, not chandelier like--like a King presenting his magnificense--but a vessel w/coloured noise & white noise in it maybe. Biting something from a perfect surface, as this glass! & then harvesting blueberries out of conscious clouds. On may way and going for well-being now past. *********** ************Sometimes not so terminal, and still::: I told her in the media of mind whisper, that daemon attendant I wondered about when it knelt in her lair, I spoke more usually to her than you selecting from my menu open. The same smoggy witness couldn't wallow in intercession long, I saw you as any caricature self-reflective, courting the same world's trampled path. And you're at this bridge in the reach of elusive authenticity, an oceanic-interred relativity, an open nerve born out of it & rooted into your heart's trough--primarily hidden of sensorial entanglement: It is awesome that you care--a roseate sun committed to our shadow's yawn. I ask in dream coloured noise, lofty issuant light mummer 'pon my brow, "How would it feel if I killed for you?" It would be something in me. Unfortuantely I am strained with that ability--I imagine you've been as statistical as ubiquity in the same-sea, auyervedic dispatched to sterile and neutral emotions... ************** ***********I'm adjured thru valiant ends some cult of self-reliance--in other words, I am cultivating the box in the stow of now, at the top of the stairs. (non-institutionally) Sign of diminutional mind getting past mind regarding sentient greed is a glyph of distance strung, education from the absurd teacher finding you, then method and discipline--timely mythos, numinous in the wield of thought's control & its inadequacy: sign, education, then discipline--these are the tripartite hearing we ought to give what language technology locates in things like G*d, the Existential, & as Gandhi recommended experimentation in consciousness. Knowledge is good, and practical knowledge isn't understood at the face of critical "meditations" of one's Belief as being negative (criticism), just because it defies the subject-you have become to see it (Logos, mythos, pistis--its enlistment. Knowledge.) in observably self-professional terms. If self-profession is threatened, look at the razor's edge that alighted you-the ascendant to standards to give no stay of those real & phantom dangers. The danger now is objectivity toward m0re change. ************ **************4 tinkers, a pair and their tools above - another pair seated at street level with their sundry berth closer, closer to the current of human market place. 4 cornered repair to alight personally if intentions seem clear, 1 looks over accruing contemplation and concord. These Cairenes in elegant & animal behaviors while sharing libations & victuals--think continental breakfast (black chai) and foulle, usually fava beans, what food is eaten tastes like senses aweful?--like a splendid & stupendous kind of aweful, in consuming uncultivated hrs apace simply getting outside oneself, when their trading's success fallows. The most literate of the quorum is resigned to a vigilant wish, which the other interpret as hopeful. ************* *************Mountainous day. I woke up at its peak. If a mountain lapses from groan to sigh, the sea had preference. J. K. says, "Truth is a pathless land, it is a pathless land." Imagine: at your leave and upon the valley's moment dissolute after the mountain is in its first notice & refinement. You step out and away, now halfway home... Are you projecting into reception, and of what kind? Isn't the mountain, the razor's edge, informing you in the gloss of the land, something would lie in the way? The mt is the most acceptable of what belies us temporally, but superably. So, one might bring Nangar parbet in the Himalayas ithru the window framing of a giant leap this one place amongst Western plastique. ********* *************I criticize solicitious psychologies, thinking that so & so has actually done me a favor now that I am knowing better. I like my mind full of courage I can't have made similar mistakes--and then in unlikely ways I am fenced-in with middling affect that I can't stand on merely this to deny static personality politics of experience goo. There is real & realistic. It is real I will have gotten weary giving a damn--and realistic no one would change for self-reflective reasons. ********** *************I blinked between chaos and the stay of the moment. I'm palimpsest like a monadic odor--or nomadic breath, freed in Sinai radiations and Cairene effulgence, I'm gritting at its antiquity. Sweating but in cooler shadows of the night coming, my first evening in Cairo is in sum my more marauding thought and pretensions I should especially be gratified at my brother's recommend to observe the green neon of bombast ornamenting of the masjids, mosques. Out into the streets behind the Americana, where we stayed, I see the only really lighted cityscapes, white lights in randomly ordered array, and then at 11 o'clock directionally I see past al-Dokki highway major thoroughfare, red neon. A marvelly color I felt the least readied to associate an otherwise green of paradise foisted ideal in my cryptic illusions what Yemeni Jews have in common with kallam, a sophisticated discussion Muslim's developed on the Language of G*d, Jews proffering as much in their mysticism. Green is a chromo value in the Place of peace, what language appreciates to orient the acolyte. In the mundi vox I could assume at the moment it might have been little pillow-army mummers--ants in regimented pedestrian winds, wack horns in gray hearth roads, muezzin channeling Billal, or I know I should hear the witnessing begin & resume. ************* ************In partite sluiced light rays I lie down brow upon an open book ciphering funky (unsophisticated in extent) formulaic thought of Madam Blavatskii. Andrapradesh comes up in magnetic curious some-place my nodding to its complacency (not had) to relent its offering my negotiable east. Wintry solace behind black thread white thread blinds, I'm compelled from the dreigh possibilities a tendrilly grip in my uncensored ceto-vimutti, the theosophy would have these mind affects, mind of category, you may choose (in mission) or discipline in humility, and in interests' volley thoroughgoing in a poorly resolved school. But the school of rapt student is of the daemon's enlistment to inner-scrutiny. For the grammar of this type content, Quail Creek in Austin had relicks of time's splay in immense apprehensions all-not-mine if what sweet waters meant is become an entirely different journey - if merit belongs to fate. Each moment defers to it like 10 doors to the same room or 10 fractures out of the same principal fountain. Earth tabernacle, gates to the forest's infancy alighting from limbs unpinned (of the wanderer), fruit unshed, sheltering boughs in quest. ************ ***********One shouldn't get caught-up over-elaborating what it is one is understood through. To steal a social travail, but apply what thin-line definition it is if one martyred language, radicalized toward a path nigh--to speak on imminent concerns, an instant record to man's intra-mantra slavery, the key revealed is to disguise one in moderation if pendular tremendum damned the ascendant to the fray. It is easy and recommended to do precisely not what everyone else does. ("recommend" is elastic here) Even in the enlistment of our likenesses that serves conveniently--spirituality isn't lock-step in usual ways or unusual ways. Imagine a Believer saying, "I go to temple because I get what 'I am' there for." Are they saying, Let's start what we've come in the room to do? It appears the building of our relent on the reins of salvation could have been unbuilt, and he or she would have been better for it. It would be just this experiment in truth--the Om colored & white noise filtering an indefinite chorus toward a vernacular to moderate the gratuity in crowd consciousness, an ego! University, a general sense-grammar on human family, as this visceral measuring of our body and mind in ascent or promotion, would be the experience of the one as the many. *********** **********Looking thru a yawn of road-runner outback, Texas bigger-biggness characterizing this road mom and I were driving down. From the vantage point where mom had pulled off and stopped, was entreating bloodclot say under the road and thru some flash of osmosis it bares a black pitch dao trans-infinitive, me one current sheath pondering, cresting upon a much graver body of the same. ************* ************I'll be here Less tomorrow, than and I am right Now. What is this life become, rather than Who Am I? So, the present consumates all past and potency for future. *********** **********Imagine in the beginning of the epic film Gandhi, Bapu & Kasturbai are re-inacting their marriage vows: the mutual tasting of sweet bread, circumambulating, they were, and the cultivation by apt human inspiration religion or self-actualization, lifts mundane earth into the mouthfuls of hope. There's a phantasmagoria of charged appetite sometimes from the taste of bread--many imagine. I sharpened sensitivity while factotum deliverer of this & other super-sensual victuals, money for it in my fist, I wasn't mystic, this, I was waving 'pon surf n turf. Dar al Islam halal circumspect, bread can't be cut, it's torn, don't wipe your hands on it--the prophet says tear it with your teeth as well. There is even a 3 second rule, if a mouthful of bread should drop...spare none for the devil. Most of the time in epicurean tote its ebullience was left uneaten by me & I became alligned in diet consciousness to something mantram couldn't alliterate in such coarse animal rigor--just running and eating rich foods. Walnuts, hazelnuts, cabbage, oats, tofu, & meat & bread--something that helped me think. Out in Swift Camp Creek trails--I had been lost there once--my brother and I made a fire and toasted Zadie's baked rye. My appetite wasn't uniform then, but I waxed easily ciphering dank woods from the yeast oblivion an aromatic molecular difference wholly insignificant. ********** *********איך וועט זייַן וואָס איך וועט זייַן*** A contract in honesty: To sue the future toward futile higher ground as to suffer pilgrimage now so that intuition yields salvation ill-defined by an assumed key to musterion. Propitiation in karmic avowal: My garment of existence levered society-self between ornamented timeliness to shed a more obvious dreamcoat. Some of my books have a graft of brain demarcations in them. Mom's mystic books had this magnetic Rorschach luminary prop, this first wealth poured in necessary vessel measured in suspiring breath, dusty hands peeling back mind haunts, definitions in mummering sun motes. ************ **********started political--but solipsism is monarchical--I may decide on the 1rst step into perception has left the world prone** The lens of core-culture, whatever that vehicle of populace may say--think about who one throws in with, in plastique romance, your appetites--how one is allowed to retrieve social conscience, however trivial, and what gives rises to insecurities, is a source of humility and human perspective. A lesson to inculcate, not to argue with the same reverence to retreat in confessional auspices in the same furious climate like pavement blandished souls--the other's lack of self-consciousness in splaying beck we ought to be somewhere we aren't now... Spirituality should feel unusual to those who'd seek. Unusual upon reflection over inciting relief from conformism--your own. If the moon is painted spiritually true, her ciphering is memory on encumbering boughed night, mothernight revelation, and her daytime revolution nature asking for subtlety.