The Poetry and Prose of John Omniadeo

The Poetry and Prose of John Omniadeo

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.