1996 and 2000
Joke's On You
O Lord, my little jokes on Thee
I’ll forgive Thy great big one on me.
‘Tiz the trauma of
birth–and of death–that we pay
the love of this life, the game we all play.
So-what if it’s all more a ploy than a plan?
what better place to hide from ‘I AM’
we’ve all been the cast in a joke we can’t see,
the joke and the joker’s the same entity;
if you need to see, have it subject to view,
playing the joke and the joke is on you.
For God has eyes of ev’ry size
shapes and forms unheard;
all that come about
within a word:
An eye that SEES through eyes that see
a window through infinity,
back to you and me
tokens of philosophy.
Like to find out what this joke is about?
would you give for a look?
moment of time for rhythm and rhyme?
it out ... that’s just what it took!
Imagine this place: like Alice’s place;
wonderland point of view
the best of our thought
what is naught
something we already knew.
A place we can see, reflect and surmise,
our duration by changing our size;
view-point from eyes throughout infinite space
watch Nature dancing all over the place.
"Without a contrary, no progress can be".
said by the best in his prophecy.
the garden can grow, so the tree bears its fruit:
the forces dispute.
Two forces with faces that silently hide,
the noise and the madness, On the Grail’s Holy sides.
force to grow, the other to slow:
... on with the show!
Here’s Adam and Isaac, a pope and a prince
thinking ‘bout fruit from that tree.
had perceived as ‘the fall’ was achieved.
from this we all learned to see.
But the truth of it is, they failed in the quiz
both took his lot from ‘I AM’.
while they pretended, the apple descended
fall on us all: Modern Man.
Now, why would some all-encompassing joke
played on the children of time?
who would have thought
joke would be bought,
continued and signed?
With all we’ve achieved–the theories conceived–
could we miss such a ruse?
clues that existed were sorely twisted
we could continue . . . anew!
(Aside, a whisper):
all about your size, you see,
way you use your eyes to see:
them or through them, which is the best?
do you pass this subtlety test?
A thing’s particularity
the price of its visibility.
eyes can’t see past clarity
see their own past history.
‘Cause seeing takes some time, you see,
to SEE, well, that is time,
this image held in mind:
Say you should wake-up tomorrow;
whole world just doubled its size!
can you square with perception
nothing has squared to the eyes?
Then what if this fantasy played itself out,
the world kept expanding o’er time?
would a standard of measurement lie?
could we walk a straight line?
Sir Isaac’s wing takes three degrees
move around in space,
put them together in motion, behold!
over the place.
And remember that gent ’round the turn of the cent’
rode on a fast moving wave?
the clock on the wall, which had a great fall,
no change in the image it gave.
Albert’s conclusion has staggered our minds,
naught do we comprehend,
in time the clock slows
the universe grows,
my now is another mans then.
Caught in a whirlwind of thought or despair?
for something to clear-up the air?
a drink from the well
the fruit left the tree
web of extension binds all that you see;
Extension, duration–borne out of hand,
the will of a soul to act-out its plan.
the timeless in time
its due as it sees
that window obscuring infinity.
all about your size, you see,
independent eyes can’t see;
those eyes of ev’ry size
points that recombine
that place a modern child
never, ever find.
‘Cause he believes
just what he sees;.
in his every call
he asks, not how, but why?
ivory towers fall.
The modern child’s
of worth as seen
‘round a point of view
full dimension lean.
An atom was borne at the speed of our light;
grown till its size could be squared in our sight!
thought when it happened: “That couldn’t be right!
a wave from within could portray our delight.”
All were surprised as this message arrived–
Came in on a fast moving wave.
all watched it spread!
the prince said:
price is just too much to pay.”
Fates had arrived, a refuge decried
the nexus of what we can see:
exists to give it a twist
lo! It’s just you and me!
A cry of uncertainty
we could interpret prelims
a fish in the sea, who just cannot see
very same stuff that it swims.
So the clues were dismissed–How
else to progress?–
create that impossible dream:
a world without cause except our new laws
the heart of the modern machine.
The future and hist’ry of all the vast worlds
weighing and watching on high;
spiraling images, Milky Ways all,
mirrors of each you and I.
“One hundred billion,” they say is out there,
number repeated again and again
again for each soul
has walked on the earth
the cycle–our journey–began.
But the stars of the night be there also by day.
just don’t remember to think it that way.
the brightest without sees itself deep within
the marriage betwixt sees its self once again.
LO! (And Behold)
God has eyes of ev’ry size
shapes, in forms untold
throughout the whole domain
He has brains on diff’rent trains
thought, of time and space
play out His identity,
a human race:
my own image”, cries a man;
own way, his off-spring plan.
that he prays,
seeing Nature his own way
Just like That, that dreamed a way;
sought a vision made of clay
hide and seek identity
edition ... Its own way.
It’s all about your size, you see,
how it would be wise to see
arbitrary measures be
looked at independently.
Because we see such clarity,
hearts can’t see the parity
within the great without;
rarified, it’s all about:
A growing sea of entropy
of all those eyes that see:
It’s the law, ‘the second law’...
it out, you’ll want to see;
old and yet to be
contained in entropy.
From distant skies beyond meek eyes
living deaths and dying lives
wrapped in myst’ry and disguise.
But way down in the atom’s spin,
conditioned eyes-so dim,
same shadow twice begins,
“Here’s ‘I AM’ again.”
And in between these myst’ry sizes
in secure devices,
awaits with finite eyes
all around’s the dancing prize.
How can we gladden the heart of a man
Who has bought his way into detention
feeding the flames of an inflated worth
the standard of worldly dimension?
And how can it profit a man to be wise;
To see past the version of Truth that he buys
the prince and the pope and the merchant conjoined
offer two sides of a counterfeit coin?
A world made of chance? So
Science can dance?
random, no soul to be willed.
“In guilt, borne of Sin’s”
both want their coffers refilled.
Old systems of thought can always be bought
they suffer a dire situation:
self-destructs: “sorry, no bucks;
better rethink your cantations.”
So we search for the key,
For that damned Holy Grail–
chalice with faces opposed–
it’s filled to the brim with its artifact lot
justify questions we pose.
Solutions arise, we pass them along;
them again and again
all us lost souls doing time on this earth
all the right answers are in.
But the faces remember
who’s the pretender
why he can’t walk a line straight;
to lighten his task
only need ask:
is this damned thing called weight?’
What made the apple fall to the ground?
are the orbs so symmetric, so round?
does a feather, a hammer, a pin
side by side when a vacuum they’re in?
Faster and faster they race in their course;
How to explain it? What is the source?
are they going, how’d it begin?
can’t we interpret this mosaic we’re in?
Nature abounds, seems healthy and wise;
not a wit we can’t locate Her prize.
‘tho caught in Her midst,
see Her dancin’ ... anywhere.’
As we search for the clues,
plays out the ruse
dares us to understand.
“nay”, we all say,
can’t be that way,
it doesn’t fit into the plan.”
We must be insured; to feel self-assured
some thing out-there doesn’t flux;
thing beyond time–
rhythm, no rhyme–
justify spending more bucks
some scheme that survives
the grandest disguise
a purpose or plan
to offer this joke
though it bespoke
the best of the best: Modern
But “the best” of them found
the world is so round-
a thorn in the quantum religion.
the wave they concealed
now be revealed
the dance of creation we live in.
Now no one designed or dreamed up this thing.
no one’s conspired 'bout the myst’rys we sing.
just how we play, how we seek and we hide,
we just can’t remember
weights back inside.
The clues have been passed,
perhaps you have grasped,
you might think about elevation.
a drink from the well, then weigh it a spell
ponder your newest location!
For to weigh is to stop and to wonder.
Weight is a heavy regress.
are a chance to observe the same dance:
ol’ joke–at its best; what a jest.
So whoever you are,
condition your spirit is in,
from the sleep
your shadowland dreams
remember whose life that you’re in.
‘Cause if you’re still a part of the joke you can’t see—
the joke and the joker’s the same entity;
And if you think that Truth must be subject to view,
the rest of your time will the joke be on you.