an empty sutra

emptiness is a pointer towards the nature of reality

and is ultimately empty itself—

there is no cliff hold.

even nothing is nothing—

ain't that something!

in nomine non-nomine,

no need believing in the unknown—

you are the unknown.

intuitively, you've always known.

the primary mother tao six sutra

no decision, no voting, no winning and losing:

the natural state is the primary.

"eye of newt, and toe of frog"

"double, double, toil and trouble"

it's not so much republicans are delusional

as it is my democratic tendencies which are—

it's not obama; it's o mama!


mother night.

in the day but not of the day.

“dark female-enigma.”

“the valley spirit that doesn't die

we call the dark womb.”

“the tao is called the great mother:

empty yet inexhaustible,

it gives birth to infinite worlds”

“the mysterious female”

i am the one unborn,

the virgin birth,

child of a barren woman—

the reports of my birth are greatly exaggerated.

the big idea sutra

ancient but shiny sharpened double-edged ideas

to which all ideas are dropped—

or else one becomes that idea

always looking for an argument.


the great zen master hung one in the middle of the plate

and who hit a liner to i don't know.


stop if you've heard this one:

an intellectual walks into his mind

and asks for an enlightenment.

the bartender says nothing;

so the intellectual starts a ceaseless argument...

next day the intellectual walks into his mind

and says you had best give me that enlightenment.

bartender says, sure, ok—

just don't get any ideas.


welcome to maha maya;

please take a number.

welcome to the great dream;

please take a name.

welcome to our spirituality floor;

please take an idea.

ah, i see you’ve found our double-secret wisdom room

where we keep the most dangerous ideas;

good-bye.

the corporate sutra

further my nearer to thee unknown—

affect, not effect—

the unspecific sea.


love is all there is—

the people who love people aren't—

take refuge in your unborn nature.


a working class zero is something to be—

corporations need bodhisattvas too—

quit yourself.

the unwritten sutra

from light, of light, in light, to light, light light, de-light—

words FAIL—

the unknown isn't saying and the known isn't listening.


you never knows, you know—

in intuition, apparency disappears—

love is the glue that holds nothing together.


let love possess—

six billion thoughts floating in a sea of pure affectionate awareness dissolving one by one—

at best, the written word unwrites itself.

the skillful sutra

who doesn't say—

i am youniversal—

the end is here.


consciousness kneads—

skillful means never meant skillfully mean—

drop urges and words.


it's all the buzz—

belief creates space-time—

love destroys it.


this that these and those are demonstrative—

you are indefinite—

insanity is past becoming future without passing now—


go!

whoku 1 - revelations

bare trees

caught in the headlights—

a winter morning sun

new collection on kindle

O Mama
can this really be the end
(koan, rekoan, and nokoan)

a collection mostly from these pages
(with exception of previously unblogged title piece)
words are cheep: $2.99; click on image link