The Poetry and Prose of John Omniadeo

The Poetry and Prose of John Omniadeo

Saturday, March 30, 2013

easter poem for diotima

[a loose translation from boethius
consolations of philosophy
liber ii metrum viii]

see world always change
faithful in unerring harmony
see seeds war with seeds
and never break unending pact of peace
see sun's chariot bring red dawn
so moon can rule night
led by evening star

see how waves of greedy sea stop here
and land is kept there too

see all this and see

what rules
what binds the earth and sea and sky
is love

take away love's rule
let love's binding slack
the things love rules and binds will war
and monkeywrench and wreck
the very engine of this world thatsee!
faithful each to others motionbeautiful!
they drive

and love ties up families
with magic threads
joins pure lovers
in a holy knot
weaves faithful comrades
in a cause

o happy human race!
this love
that rules the stars
can rule your hearts


John O.

Sunday, January 27, 2013

The Center's Master

A wandering Bastard, without map or bearings
You hear a soothing Servant, kind and caring:

"Out there is Chaos. Here's a Center
Into its calming Order, enter"

There your Servant plays the Center's Master
Until you see he's just another Bastard...

You'll never find the Center, so just be it
When you look from it, you cannot see it

But know this: every lost and wandering Bastard
looks from it, too, and is your Center's Master

Love to All

John O.

Saturday, October 20, 2012

The Robber

The Robber leaves the Marketplace
And leads his Treasure-laden Mule
Atop the Hill once more to face
The Town: Too Many Treasures Yet Unstolen

Still, His Bag is Full of Fineries
And opening It to Evening Light He sees
Every Single Golden Coin more Golden
More Wondrous every Wondrous Strip of Lace
More Foolish, Every Single Trusting Fool

When will the Robber leave the Hills
Reach to the Mountaintop that bars
Guilt and the Law?
Where Thievery thrills
The Center of the Spinning Wheel of Stars

[I wrote this cheery ditty at the age of 20. I am working on finishing my prostration book and I will also be publishing a new prose blog soon on theory and controversies in the philosophies of meditation practice. In the meantime, I thought I would post an old poem here occasionally when new ones do not arise. J.O.]

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Evil Woman

There’s a hush in the Graveyard fore the Cat starts to howl
All the Spirits know Evil Woman on the prowl
She got her Evil Juju and the Spell She gonna spin
Evil Woman gonna do the Dead Men in

    Evil Woman, You’re worser than a Bad Moon
    You got me singin a Brand New Tune
    I didn’t do it! Ain’t no enemy, it’s true
    Evil Woman, ain’t no enemy but You

Woman like You should be stewin up Rats
Stirrin her Cauldron and gettin Congrats
Way to go, Grrrl, you hurt another po boy
Admit it, Evil Woman, that’s the kind of thing you enjoy

I was just talkin bout the Way Things Be
Evil Woman sneakin round seducin me
If I'd a just knowed all the ways She ain’t right
I’d a never loved that Evil Woman that night

    Evil Woman, You’re worser than a Bad Moon
    You got me singin a Brand New Tune
    I didn’t do it! Ain’t no enemy, it’s true
    Evil Woman, ain’t no enemy but You

Justice is for losers; Fairness is for fools
Cryin is for babies, Baby, I make the Rules
They say I’m a Loser, but why can’t You see?
You just sayin Unfair Evil Things about me

Evil Woman, whydjou ever come into my life?
I was crazy thinkin You could ever be a Wife
Evil Woman, You a Fiend from some lower level
Evil Woman, You an Ever Lovin Tool of the Devil

    Evil Woman, You’re worser than a Bad Moon
    You got me singin a Bad Brand Tune
    I didn’t do it! Ain’t no enemy, it’s true
    Evil Woman, ain’t no enemy but You

fide in diotima and Love to All,

John O.

Sunday, August 12, 2012

The Universal Bow

I bow to YOU, my dear friends and enemies
I bow to everyone like YOU who has ever lived or ever will
I bow to your reactive patterns
I bow to your distractions
I bow to your emotions and complex thoughts and stories
I bow to your dream of a permanent happy self
I bow to the knots in your stomach, the choking in your throat
I bow to the contraction in your heart
I bow to the tears in your eyes
I bow to your anger, your hunger without end
I bow to your stupidity, your busy silly life
I bow to your fearful arrogance and blissed out pride
I bow to you who know them all

I bow to your wealth
I bow to your poverty
I bow to your obesity
I bow to your anorexia
I bow to your success at the office
I bow to your panic at the downward sales trend and pink slip
I bow to your pride in your work
I bow to your boredom in cubicle, field and factory
I bow to your orgasmic bliss
I bow to your frustrations and sexual obsessions
I bow to your random acts of kindness and generosity
I bow to your unspeakable secret cruelties and the endless pain they cause
I bow to your peace negotiations
I bow to your heartless guns and planes and bombs
I bow to your strength and nobility
I bow to your weakness and addiction

I bow to the Lord of the Universe
the Hermaphroditic King and Queen of Great Compassion
with as many faces as the Stars
as many arms as the rays of the Sun

Please look here
I wander the six realms
lost and confused with my enemies and friends
Please let me never forget them

When you place your certainty in the soles of my feet
let me never forget we are hesitant, doubtful and indecisive
When you nest in the palace of bliss in my loins
let me never forget we are pained and frustrated and obsessed
When you take your seat of power and satisfaction in my gut
let me never forget we are hungry, weak and helpless
When you sit on the warm flower of peace and love in my heart
let me never forget we are angry, bitter cold and resentful
When you sing the angelic chorus in my throat
let me never forget we are hoarse, tongue-tied and stupid
When you gaze from the not-two eye of insight in my forehead
let me never forget we are duped by division and decision
when you open the clear sky above my forehead
let me never forget I must stay here with my enemies and friends

Radiant Lord, Kind Heart of my Teacher
once more I touch my forehead to the ground
please visit me here
please look on us all with your eyes of Love
and please grant your Grace
that I might live and die for the benefit of others


[reprinted from the old Unfettered Mind ning site]

Sunday, January 29, 2012

Diotima, the Guru and the Ivy Crown

I turn to see the Perfect Woman’s Face
and there instead is Lord Kalu, King of Dharma.
He holds a Jewel and smiles at me at last:

“Philosophers and Scientists may seek,
but ever seeking Mind is only Mind—
Let Mind rest in Mind. This Stone cannot be cut.
Stale Bread and Fine Pastry are one to the Yogi’s Tongue.
Pray to the Mother of the Perfect Lineage.”

I cry, “Kind Master, touch me a second time!”
But He is gone—No Vision lasts forever.
No Pure Thing holds in an Impure Mind.
But She in Whom it’s visioned? My Pure Love?
How can She leave, Who’s never come to be?

Unseen Her Gaze. Unending Her Vast Gesture.
I am led into an Evening Room.

What’s this? I see My Friends of Old,
My Rug, the Sun and Moon, a Book!
Behold! The Signs and Symbols of the Ages,
The Rage of a Prisoner in a Cell,
Two Lovers in a Twilit Chamber,
The Play of Mind in the Yogi’s Cave.

You who gaze into the Wine Glass at the Party, all alone,
You Fervid Caffeine Seeker, Bong Hit Blower, Carrier of Tobacco’s Secret Case,
You in the Elevator Incubation, You in the Cyber Drone,
You Criminal, You Liar, You Lover in Your Own Embrace,
You with the Acid and the Thizz
And You with the Lonely TV on
You who know where the Party is,
And You in the Pornographic Dawn.
You Digger in the Pit of Greediness,
You Sucker at the Tit of Neediness,
You Killer with the Blade of Hate
You Fucker of Your Weaker Mate
You Weak Seducer of the Strong
You Quick Excuser of Your Wrong
You Harsh Definer of the Real,
You Cutter of the Wicked Deal
You Gambler with Reality
You Loser of Carnality
You Bower to the Idol “Brain”
You Liver in the Body’s Pain,
You Stirrer of the Pot of Shit,
You Lover of the Smell of It,
You Warrior in the Secret Wars,
You Whore and Monger of the Whores,
You Shunner of the Little Child,
And You, Shunned Baby, Running Wild:

Come to Insight’s Crazy Carnival!
Kill Your Parents! (Knife both Induction and Deduction.)
Mind wakes to Mind at Indecent Intervals.
Seek a Wise Teacher. Ask for Instruction.

Walk the Whole Path for Others’ Sake.
Send Joy and gather Sorrow with Each Breath.
Call on your Teacher’s Heart. Let your Heart break.
Meditate past the Point of Death.

Radiant, my True Love’s face. How sad, I will never see Her.
My Heart breaks and I call to the Daughters of the Sky,
“How Kind you are to let me sing in the Evening!
May you be a Refuge in every Lifetime!”

“Demons and Ghosts! Look here! I’m Crowned with Ivy!
And Your Meal is Rapt in Finest Linen White.
Come to the Great Feast of the Witches for the Son of the King!”

Confused and Tortured, those who grasp at Phantoms
Happy, the Yogi touched even once by the Master.
Use this Gem for Selfish Ends,
Build a Fire to fry in your own Fat.
Not even the Lord of Love can help you then.

[A poem inspired by KM and Diotima before I knew who she was. It was published on the old Unfettered Mind Ning site, but can no longer be found there.]

Love to All,

John O.

Saturday, December 10, 2011

The Secret Female Place

I write this under a setting Full Moon but I am three thousand miles and three lunar months away from that night in San Francisco when the Full Moon of Mind lit up the brilliant dark background of non-Mind, which is non-experience, whatever that isn't.

This will be my last post in my series on my prostration retreat on the streets of San Francisco. (You can read the other posts in order listed to the right.) Though there were a few days and nights of the retreat after that Tuesday when I stayed out all night under the Full Moon in downtown San Francisco to penetrate the Secret Female Place, they were boring, anti-climactic, and this post will be too.

I hate to disappoint you. But, if you are looking for something, everything will disappoint you eventually.

Tears form in my eyes and sobbing convulses my heart and throat as I write this, for I too am still looking for something—we are in this together, I assure you—but that's just the way it works. I am terribly sorry.

When I asked Tara for help with the Secret Female Place I heard her answer: “She's all yours, John.” But immediately I began to doubt my interior hearing. It was possible she said, “He's all yours, Hon.”

I asked My Love for clarification and I was told:

“John, you can never penetrate the Secret Female Place. Nor can you escape Her, Diotima's Mystery. When you stand up straight into the Sky, it is there. When you fall prostrate on the Earth, it is there. In between before and after, bitter tears and joyous laughter, it is there:

In the natty mumbo jumbo
lives the never ending pun
deep above the humble mumble
two is two and one are one
but AH! this wicky wacky moment
two makes one make one make two
oh out of nowherever foment!
oh elemental duum do!
nonsense-I-call yer gyres and gimbles
what 'em hocus pocus HO!
plulp 'em past 'em pretty symbols
how 'em duum so am so.”

Love to All,

John O.