Dissection of the Eye

Philosophy

Strange telemetries

Mathematical imaginings

The optics deceive

But only for the moment it takes

To let the Image live

Not frozen behind a pane

But moving

All-encompassing

Alive

You are neither optics nor capturer of Image

Image does not capture life in the optics

Image is not for the optics
Optics are for the Image

Optics are

Only through Image

The Image's shadow

Is the life of the optics

Image gives shadows
to optics
As optics

Image is

Optics and Life

Image is everything

And life is the knowing of Self

Life is the illusion that there is other than the Image

Through other

There is Self

Self is the Image that dissolves the other

When optics dissolves itself into Image
There is only love

Because there is only Self

Immanence…

Experiment III/Kontext

I am living in the city now.  The city is a disease upon the earth and a self-inflicted wound on mankind.  It dampens the senses and isolates us more and more in direct proportion to the extent to which it pulls us together.  I'm honestly surprised that I could even bring myself to finish this poem.  I'm afraid that it will be the last enlightened piece of literature that I produce for some time.  On the drawing board I have poems about isolation in the city, the state, the first communion at the last supper, and finally a poem about people who cannot stand to be in silence with others.  My inspired moments are far and in between but I will do what i can to change that and make the most of it when it does happen...

Experiment III

I give this poem to you.

I wanted to tell you what I am, what you are.

Though time and space seem to separate us,

I tell you:

We are together now.

It is Ourself that I’m trying to impress on you:

The now in which the words pass by

Contains our voice speaking these thoughts;

The future as it becomes the past.

We are this future,

Which consciousness faithfully reflects

As it leaves our unthought Self

To dance in the firmament of the mind.

This future is the One

That holds the present and the past

As it reveals itself as everything

When we glimpse its shadow.

So drop this poem from your hands

And drop these thoughts from your mind

So that the reader might take the time

To free itself of words and listen…

 God I can't stop listening to good Russian electronic music!

Experiment II

  I found this passage the day after I finished this poem: “That was the true Light which gives light to every man coming into the world” John 1:9.  Note: capitalization matters! 
Experiment II
And now a search comes upon the poem,

A search already possessed by what it searches for:

Floundering in the hallucination of its darkness,

Illuminated by the Light it tries to create.

(You are this Light

That illuminates the darkness of the search

For a light that it seeks to make

In place of the One by which it searches.)

It turns to the poem for guidance

Or amusement or distraction,

In its effort to create the light

It assumes itself to be.

(But this end that its ideal proclaims

Lies disobeyed by the means prescribed:

No search could find the light it tries to create

Unless it surrenders itself to the present from which Light shines)

If the search stepped into this Light

And ceased its attempt to replace it,

As if to own or dominate it,

Its light would burn.

(Here the search abolishes itself

As it ends its violent struggle:

As light-in-Light it finds its way to peace

And surrenders its hallucination of control to truth.)