System & Custom

A system is a custom to accustom to the custom
Accustom the individual to the system, to be controlled, to be manipulated, to become dependent on the system, to satisfy the system
While all of my wants/needs are actually stemmed from the system’s wants, the systems customs
Thus my custom and I become the pillar for the establishment of the system

All systems fail whether it is today or tomorrow, for the system originates from the other, another and not from neither.

I look to the systems of my religion/my race/my country etc to provide me with the IDEA of security/comfort both mentally and physically, so I hide behind the doors of this system, protecting the system, as a system
While all along I am not hiding behind the door but I am the door and the security I think I have is my own illusion instilled within me by the system, for the system
For I have become the system and I am the system

One day I may wake up to this realization and think I want to change the system
But the security of my mind, the thought, is the same, so I override by changing the quality of the system, from one religion to another, one way to another, one method to another
For the mask is the same, the custom to accustom is the same

I substitute religion for new age, new age to no age, no age to spirituality, spirituality to no functionality, one meditation to another to another and always some OTHER
But the security the mind is seeking is the same, my attachment and dependence to have a system, to be in the system is the same
The satisfaction of my wants and my needs is the same

For the system behind the system is the same.

I watch the nature and think It has a system
Forgetting that the only system lies in my eye and in the I that is watching the nature through the perception of a system, perceiving through the mind that is accustomed to look at everything as a system
Thus making my want to match my watch creating another system but actually not of nature.

In this idea of the system, I have become the system
My every act, every thought and every movement in the moment has become a custom of the system
No one to be with, the very idea of being alone is scared of, I have confused being alone to being lonely, not realizing that my very being is always ALONE
No where to go, the very idea of having no thing, pulls me back to the system ten fold
The very idea of being free of the system makes me run to the darkest depths of the system for comfort, even when it is a painful comfort, for it is also a system of comfort

I wonder how can my mind be free when all it knows is “a way”, always looking for a way
I wonder how can my mind know that which is free when it is always reliving the comfort of the past, modifying the past in billion different ways, in billion different “A Way & The Ways”
I wonder of the mind, the thought and the resulting experience that has no system, no memory of the custom to accustom to the system

I wonder of the individual, the individual who is not part of the whole nor the whole
And maybe a indivisible individual that has no system, no self
No self to itself, with out self to know self as a self with no self





A Seed & A Thought

Every Seed has the potential
some seeds are grown, some seeds are thrown

Every thought has the potential
some thoughts are Sown, some thoughts are blown

Every act has the potential
some acts diminish, some acts flourish

The seed that is sown has the thought to be grown and the act to be glown
In the thought of seed is the act to flourish and in the act to flourish is the birth of the seed
For the seed without soil and the soil without seed is the thought without an act and an act without a thought.

The seed is not a weed to fill my need but the seed is a deed to the one in need.
For the seed and deed are indeed in need and not in greed

The seed is a bead of love indeed to bead the love of the deed.

To know the seed, to sow the seed is to know the thought, my thought.
For in the very seed lies all of the life of the tree
A tree that is free from the seed and yet bears a seed that has all of itself within the seed

So is in every thought and in the very thought, is the life of the thought of myself
A thought full of experiences, a thought full of memories and a thought full of thought

For in the thought that is full, has no thought to think of, like the seed that is full bears no leaves to see
And yet all of the roots & fruits lie within the seed and so are the acts of my thoughts to the thoughts of my acts.

So let me not be a dot in the thought or a drought of the thought
And maybe the thought as the act and the act as the thought with no knot

For in my thought is my tree that is free
To be Free of a thought and the very thought

Leaf Roots Tree



Skin as my Title, I hide behind its subtitle
Skin as my vital, I became its recital
Skin as my entitle, for I feel so belittle

Skin as my mask and skin as my cask
Skin as my task and skin as my daily flask
Skin as my fin and skin as my kin
And skin as my bin and the very cause of my akin

I flip and flap in the skin for the skin
With the mind of my skin and bind of my skin
In skins I nap, through skins I tap

Skins I feel, in skins I reel
Skins I appeal, for skins I seal
And in skins sins, I deal

My Skin is only that which I take, that which I make, and that which I rake
Skin misrepresents and does not represent
For the skin is temporary, is a memory but not exemplary

So, I must peel the skin, heal the kin
Feel the akin and deal with the breaking
For I am not just a skin

Let the skin not decide on the brother or sister
Let the skin not decide on the hate or mate
And Let the skin not decide on my fate

Let the mind be free of the skin, free of the kin of the skin
Let the thought be not of the skin or the akin of the skin
Let the mind, see the mind behind the mind, so the skin is no longer its bind

For the MIND that is FREE, is like a TREE that is FREE



Freedom from Self

To be FREE, is to be free from the self
To be Free from the self, is to need no self
To need no self is to heed no self

To heed no self is to need no shelf
To need no shelf is to claim no self

No self as myself and no shelf as my shelf
For every self, is another hail for help
Hail for help from the self i call my self

With no self to call my self as myself, i may come upon that which is no self
And when i come upon that which is no self, there is neither the I to know that which is nor that which is, to the I
Here, may be here, no where near here, i may come across that which is different, entirely different

For everything i write of the unknown is a lie
Every word i speak of the unknown is a lie
And every thought i think of the unknown is a lie

For i may use words to silence the words
Thoughts to silence the thoughts
And never that which is neither, for each other is another tether to one another

When i realize that there is no other
When i actualize with no other
When i materialize with none another

Maybe then, i may come across that which is the absence of another, absence of another in its totality, in its entirety, in every possible eternity
With no other for another, here i wonder……

Dream of the Dream

I Dream of a dream in the dream of the dream
Dreams as my beams
Dreams as my streams
Dreams as my screams
And Dreams as my gleams

In dreams I live in the ream of dreams
In Memes I live my dreams
In desire for dreams, I make the dreams of desire

Desire for Desire as my attire
My Attire as my mire
I fuel my fire to duel my, for hire
For hire, I desire for a buyer
A buyer to whom, I be a slave of my desire

I ponder of this nature of desire with the will to fulfill
To fill my dreams with fumes of desire

I may think I have the free will of the will to choose my will
or i may think that i have the free will of choice, free will to desire
But both the choice and the will are bound by the strings of my desire
And that which is bound, that which is found through the bound still called freedom? Is such freedom FREE?
For my desire is always from the knew and never of the new

I wonder if that which is new, not a renew, but completely NEW has desire for desire
For the NEW is not of the whew, not of the few and not of the YOU

And maybe, a new that is new to the new that is no new of the new
Maybe here, will i still have desire, will I still have the dream of desire, the frame of desire……
I wonder