In pursuit of lies...

What is the truth?
Is the truth this question itself?
Or is it hidden in these words, which are veiled by themselves?
Does it dance with chance and blend meaning with memories?
Or is it just a never ending string of complicated stories?
Isn't truth the beauty -
- music, colors, and poetry?
Is it a wave or a particle?
Is it the day or is it nocturnal?
Does it fly?
Does it laugh?
Does it cry?
Is God the absolute truth?
Is religion a perfect lie?

Are numbers the truth?

Can we count what cannot be counted?
And if we can, does it truly count?
Are visions that come to the mind just equations discerning the seers from the blind?
Or is truth the pursuit of some facts that we left behind?
Is our material evolution true?
Or is our existential confusion 'the' clue?
Are your eyes - that read - the truth?
Or are my words - that I write - the truth?
Is your belief the truth or are my assumptions the truth?
Is change the only constant truth?
Or is truth the only constant change?

What is IS?
Without IS - is truth still is?
Who knows? Who sees?
Everyone agrees -
The truth is what no one believes.

Never ending tales....

Discern the truth from the lies, the pattern from the noise.
Your voice is not some choked up consequence of some coincidental ambush.
You are in control of what you wish to control and that's about it.
All that stuff that is out of control is beyond you and me any ways.
So see within what watches you and feel beyond what makes you feel.
The questions are not the only way to get the answers and almost every time, the answers bring up more questions.
PAY attention because it is all going on very fast.
Before you know it, it will be time to redefine space, and where you may find your self next may be another time altogether.
So watch out.
You cannot be so alert all the time that you lose yourself to your alertness and completely miss the spontaneous music of reality that you have descended into so unprecedentedly.
Look deep from beyond the surface and you will find the truth encapsulated withing its layers.
It should be clear to you that there is nothing discontinuous really.
Where does one person end and another person begin?
We are all just strings of DNA all the way....
What is it that we are trying to tell our self? That there is no self?
That there IS a self?
Who are we kidding?
No one who reads this now will be here a 100 years from now.
Who is reading and who is writing?
Who is singing, and whose is the song?
Its a long story - a never ending story.
As for me, my mind is made up - Its gonna change, again and again, every moment of every day in every possible way.

Burning Man Blues

Ablaze in the heaven
the smiles sink beneath
the triple chocolate tales
that washed around the zenith
The truffles of beloved
came dancing like the seals
the chap sticks had gone too stale
while the matchsticks still revealed...

Burning man oh burning man
thy singing song has seemed
like yellow shades of glee
that spangled on the screen

Burning man o burning man
if you can be then just be
I have tired off your eyes so much
I am tired of your sleep.

The dreaming dream has come out again
that screaming little feeble sheet
shut out from the open dreams
the walking walker has been beat.

Four Cats forecast for a cast of

X-o-X

Bring back your vows,
bring back your tears.
Its time to smile and hear
what our fears want to tell us.
If by looking at the picture we can act like the ocean,
we could shine like the sun or the moon behind the clouds.
The leaves, when sprinkled with dew drops, dance in the breeze - without a care with complete ease.
But we shall leave it all for this instant premonition:

Success stories will paint the news paper black till nothing is white anymore.
The television sets will evolve into computers and the Internet will feed us what cryptic clues and numbers - money without a dime or a bill will remain so without a reason.
Soap operas may actually conclude their pointless tale - pretty much like most lifestyles lived in such typical ways.
Children will grow up and old people will fade.
Women and men will truly be equal - again?
Somethings will be late than usual, like bliss and pain, depending on whether you want to sound casual or vain.
Apart from second to second transmogrification into insane assumptions, the human mind will be rearranged beyond recognition.
Cigarettes will become cliched ways for the lethargic to commit suicide.
Time will cease to flow and will go to where we wont know if we are inside or outside its holographic show.
Dances will be held in the mind for people to abandon and remind that it will never get easy to listen intently like the blind.

Hot water may become spare....