Samskara Soup

[Guest guest]

Opinions, on the flavor of China or

the arms trade in today’s lentil soup, I say,

“Hmmph!” … and, and then really add an and, in this

bozo-bitch-barked boo hiss hark of

samskara-stark, shark-snapped snippage …

 

eloquent egophant assiduously ego-snackage slipping in:

kick me some cosmic caviar of karmic sturgeon

emergin’ in assumed vasanic versions, perhaps

an eggoplant or elagantine galois of giving guts

to the chutz of another’s parinda-paw of perfect placement.

 

I saw a full and hearty, head-said selfish soliloquy rise and Rreeerr,

utilize Yike like a bike to blaze into another's meow in a full-throated,

mentally gloated, “f**k you!” and your phony poem-pinching

hip cat of causelessness to boot.

 

The high plains drifter, dufusly drunk

with ditch-chits, past hits of hearing music,

herring muzak of Rod’s Serling Stirling song parade,

“Run, run, run away…”

hudoo’d the Who Dude,

Who’d always lurked, always smirked

in hidden head-trip hide-aways,

and straight-away today tonight forever flighting,

attempted to slip her, tried to trip her, teehee tip her

up, on assumptions unbelievably, inconceivably still based

on the idea of there being an actual doer…

 

even a dog-doo of dumb stepper-inner doer doing

decidedly dumb pet tricks of particularity for the gift of it...

I don’t git it? There, that's the gift

of the dog doo goo shit

on the no-doer shoe,

somehow soled with self-identification to past experiences

and their redundancy...of Reebokness and Kedity.

Ahhh, the Shoe-Stint heredity has hummed as far as this field

of vision I still live butterfly-like in, bhavic or not.

 

How’d He Do ‘Er?

 

Howdy Doody, He do 'er with his happy hand up her wooden blocks

of belief still burgeoning with griefs and groans of being no one's

Baby for the prom. C'mon!

Can't get past '73 without still retreating

ad nauseum, into the heating of hair ready to ignite,

the bleating blah blah blah all through the night,

the endless Calendula orange angst augering

the ochre-clad Okie obtusely repeating all the fantasy-like

faux pas' of finding God?

 

By dabbing the d-t’s (O)n to doer, making a dandy-handy

done to ‘er. A Boo-Hooer in Bheda-Bhava bawling for Bhava

to spill from Bob-a-the-link she thinks is inked

to the edge of the Dharma-Drink

we drop into OneHeartedly when we hear

with ears that that sprout further out

than God can grow from human fruit.

 

 

Those Gay Golden-Green Coot Feet meet my image of God as much

as the Goldenest Buddha's Feet in the world or any other ever have.

 

By persona-pander pumping His calling card,

his running hard in the Big Easy of I Am, and clapping tight

his fakery-quackery Doctor’s card of Divine Rhyme …

into her onion soup-stirring hands,

into her Chinois-Anglais trading-stars

that are endless

and bright

with the Light of this Love We Are,

 

Could she possibly have been up in arms about being short

shrifted in wanting I-shrine holy moment liftings

in the gifted gab she tries to grab

in hearing about how totally fab she,

and her soup are, and they are,

or it is, the soup is,

it really chilly-chink blinked is a whiz of a wonderful sup.

So what?

 

Reboot.

Back-up.

Belief in a doer is the doorway to D’Ohdom.

D’Oh! That damnable Tao of Homer

will not allow for

any form of misnomer, misnamer

or blamer to the blistering spot-fire frying

my hair that was flying riotously back

in the wind of “Ahem,”

and the common din of such as this:

“Are you on snack, girl!?”

 

“I heard the caged bird’s song,” and it was all wrong

in rightness, right in wrongness

for me to believe that what I perceived was actually what,

was what was being conveyed about a vat of anonymous soup

and spirit-trade in China’s winds being affected

by the Tiger-Swallowtail butterfly’s blessed flutterance.

 

Not another utterance, but this, my Friends:

Love is all there is. Love is the only reality. There is only Love.

“And Love,” as our Beloved Bhagavan has sweetly

silent-marked for us, remarked to us,

“is the actual form of God.”

 

LoveAlways,Mazie Get a FREE online virus check for your PC here, from McAfee.