What I Do Not Understand

I do not understand why it hurts to be Nothing 

Nothing to me

Nothing to You
Nothing at all

What nasty wisp of Something
still lingers in this Void to feel like Hell?

Ever since I died
Crazy Sick Old Man of 17
I've tried to pretend I exist
but when My Lover told me I caused All Her Pain
I was truly born again to love
and only wish to die

No Nothing survives Birth
for those who believe in Love
  
I am sad for those who do
and those who don't
I want to believe and stop believing
but I can't

Brown Blots!
growing on my arm
promises of freedom

I have tried to love you
but no one else does and you are hard to believe

Lovers!
You who live and plan and train
and work and fight and play for Love
Be happy!

But remember the living dead
and pray for all

Diotima, The Guru and the Ivy Crown (revisited)

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 Yogin’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 Yogin’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!
Please be a Refuge in every lifetime!”

“DEMONS AND GHOSTS!  LOOK HERE 
I’M CROWNED WITH IVY
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 Yogin 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


[inspired by KM and Diotima in 2010, before I did eventually see her and learn they knew each other;
published on the old Unfettered Mind Ning site and long ago on this blog, hidden under a philosophical treatise]

Crazy Bout Your Nothin

Everbody's runnin round

doin crazy things about nothin
Talkin all about it
like somethin's goin on
They all got their angles
different ways to approach it
All I got is Your nothin
to be hung up on

It's funny that way You got
of somehow disappearing
even though clearly
You always here
I was just thinkin
we might do nothin together
I been doin way too much
with You not near

Crazy thing yeah
doin nothin feel sad
make me long for everthing
I'll never see
think of the crazy times
when I went bad
but Lord, I'm alright
when You do nothin with me

All them liars!
bout somethin for nothin
sellin nothin for somethin
keepin Love on they shelf
but when You and Me Lord
do nothin together
Your Love happen everwhere
all by itself

Akasha Acres

Listen, I'll give you some directions
Forget the motor vehicle
Steer spontaneous internal combustion of Mind
Roadless off the Mountain

It's good to smell the Roses and the Coffee
Buzz with the flying things with wings
Call Ravens, Crows and Buzzards friends
But fly off alone in the Spring

On land near Laytonville closed to the Profane
A chubby guy appeared to John as the Lotus Born
He hocked a loogie out the window
He took a shower and sang a Mani

Who owns these Acres of Illusion?
Inside these Spaces of Experience
What beautiful and ugly things can't happen?
To what end? John asks, forever stupid

Kind Friend of My Heart, when your Eyes flash
I see who owns Akasha Acres
Take them anywhere you like!
And please pray for animals and John and others!

[pro rm]

Saturday Night Jesus

Right there in the Word
1st Peter 4:6
The lost souls heard
Him teachin alright
the dead bones dance and do crazy tricks
cuz Jesus goes to Hell on Saturday night

On Sundy after
the plates are piled
they fill the rafters
with prayer and light
"The Lord's in Heaven!" the crowd goes wild
but Jesus goes to Hell on Saturday night

Mundy through Fridy
they pay their bills
keepin it tidy
doin it right
Great God almighty, I feel Your will

dancin here with Jesus on Saturday night

I'm a sinner—I'm lost
like the Good Book say
my Star is crossed
and I can't make it right
I'm a loser forever—I was born this way
but Jesus comes to Hell on Saturday night

Why is Friday Good?

Why is Friday Good?
Nothing happens as it should
What is there to say?
Not much on Holy Saturday

Roll away the Stone
Nothing in the Hatch
No Flesh, no Bone
Death has met His Match

Why does Sunday burn?
Death is in the Dish
Flesh and Bone return
to cook His Fish

What do we do?
Nothing! retire
Flesh and Bone, Fish and Dish
become Fire


John O. 
Good Friday

2026

Drifting Anchoress

An anchor in the Open Sky
a vow that even I could take!
Nothing happens way up high
whether anchors hold or break
Down here she fears that she will die
The sky is closed for Heaven's sake
Your Openness, a nightmare's lie
Hell, a lover on the make
Heaven, then, a promissory note
Her stormy soul, adrift and anchorless
wet and windy, is condemned to float
a fickle Father's drifting anchoress
But when she needs an anchor now
Lord of Sky and Earth! You are her Vow