the path to enlightenment

tender i am to this tear
in my heart,
knowing how presence will bring flowers to sprout from
the ignorance with which i respond to ignorance
and knowing that tearing and healing and salving and tearing again
is the kind of justice my spirit beckons

liberate the innocent
incarcerate oppression

i would loft anchors at the windows of the establishment
and scream fire to remind myself of love’s gentle combat

i would take axes and split the bones of dove-tailed monarchies

holding out their wings, i would make peace with the tornado makers
and ornately i would decorate the dervishes

in the almanac of spiritual guidance
there are passages to be recorded from these experiences
and held in hand for experiments in combustion

the mind with all its channels,
this gentle buzz in my heart
something tells me you will understand,
i know you understand.

all this panic about not connecting,
all these feelings of not being heard –
how silly. i can hear it myself.
it goes, beat, beat.

there’s madmen on the streets
a lot like you and me
there’s paupers in power
who’s hearts have gone sour

and all the while the trees,
i rub your hands, i touch your knees
when you bend for me you show me the flexibility to receive

it’s drizzling dew in february
my eyelids are dropping
subdued by faeries

angels of the time,
come to life now,

revolution

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between the trees
amongst the thistle
with due respect for the small and powerful
mushrooms and moss

under the light of the moon
with friend at side
the silence
and the hoot of an owl

amidst the stillness
we cracked the mini ice ponds
with thrown rocks dislodged from the frozen mud -
Kali at the helm.

last night how I gazed at Mars from my bed
tonight I gazed at her from the forest -
an assuring warmth the red planet so near,
its orbit greater than ours, like a kind, older sibling.

i believe
that cosmic space beings are using Mars
as their operative outpost
for an intervention mission on Earth.

Mars,
and the waterfall at the side of the road
are two of life’s many beautiful things,
its joy
precisely proportional to
the time we take to experience it.

i am no stranger to love,
yet each day brings new blessings
and in my heart I know
that the logging trucks, financial institutions and prison complexes

will dissolve at dawn.

extraterrestrials, nature, revolution

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syncopated applications of coincided crop formations.
lightships make serpents in the skies of mexico.

preparation is required — know your kundalini. let your heart and mind come into resonance.
it is easier if you remember that most of society is ego distraction.

especially, prepare for release
as entire knowledge systems will be discarded
and others will be fundamentally upgraded.

cumulatively, it is nothing short of total metamorphosis.

time will speed up and slow down, speed up and slow down. transformations happen in fractyllically intensifying moments, between which we have each other to consult. dance floor endoplasmic play, community dinners and camping ventures unite us.

look to The Shiraz near the Time for transdimensional portation blueprints. he has offered us his service as a translator. we were very impressed at first, then we lost faith in him, and now he is seems to have come online again.

visualize portals, even if you’re not quite sure what they are.

befriend the orbs, even if you’ve only seen them in pictures.

the details of the mythologies can be enlightening but also overwhelming, so stay centered in the heart while opening your mind.

avoid temptation to believe in The Far-Out simply to combat the mundane. reality is profoundly amazing and need not be hyped as such. Simply, open. Particularly in the next few years open the sixth chakra.
Sleep well and cuddle with love — she resides perpetually between your chin and your belly.

Kiss those that you love.
Hug those that you like.
Huddle with strangers.

Eat chocolate, fairly traded.
Respect Breatharians.

Remember Trey Arrow, who loves the fig tree.
Switch to alternative currency.

extraterrestrials, revolution

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fuck it all and fucking no regrets
i’ve cancelled all the love and all the bets
after we’ve separated the love from the glee
there’s just more pride fuck society

torture chambers blackened passages mark the way
the crops are dying and the kids are too dysfunctional to play
i see the west as masquerade
wonder what it would be like if they weren’t paid
by investments made in chinese murder monks and everyone’s a slave.

tell me it’s not getting worse.

god damn it.

tell me you think you’re making a bloody difference.
faith sometimes is the ultimate crockery.
we sound like priests… conflated by ego

there’s no way

there’s no way it’s so simple as choosing to be happy.

or making your own little wave.

that’s not what i call brave.

exterminating hearts and plucking minds
the bird has been defeathered and soaked in wine
and all the drunken carnivores
are crashing into windows that they think are doors

and hardwood floors are caked with chemicals.
trails are blazing in the sky. conspiracies are piling high.

here in tribe our female folk are yelling rape
have you ever studied the sociobiology of apes?

watched a doc today which showed chimp warfare
civilization sucks but neither’s nature kind nor fair.

compassion is like a coping mechanism and evolution is like some magic pill
when we all know we’re just desperately climbing hills.

we’re running to stand still.

darkness, revolution

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the biggest challenges ever
are wrought within my mind

the rocks laid before me
come from behind

this emphasis to release and let go
is more than new age hype (you know)

we’ve challenged the status quo
and now the time is ripe

to challenge ourselves within
engage the intuition

let the battles fall afoul
the mind expands, the truth is now.

evolution, revolution

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the leaves are getting thicker on the ground,
making piles to play in.

they are a deep crimson-tinged yellow.

the air is cold and dry.

the night is clear tonight
and the sky is bespeckled with shooting stars.

their frequency is great, their brightness even greater.

one drew directly overhead, in the skyward distance, grand,
serene

another shot so near and so powerful
like a cosmic stun gun

one rained — fell fast
at the mention of heaven

and many more arced, in general agreement,
and expression of
the metta:verse.

with clarity and powerful voice,
sometimes sung and sometimes whispered,
nature communicates an intricate tale of
vast beauty,
profound sorrow,
and great love.

there is a notion in her breeze
which calls us to our higher selves,

beckoning every citizen of earth together
with a voice infinitely more powerful
than that of evil

we are at a party
all listening to a beautiful song
when ocassionally an inconsiderate drunkard named War is yelling out,
getting more attention than he deserves.

next to these stars, and next to these leaves
he seems so pathetic

but with my heart open and my mind aware,

the victims of war are but beside me
as conduits for my suffering
as i am for their bliss.

true peace i have found
by simply choosing it
by listening more to the music and less to the drunkard,

a peace which grows
as humanity evolves
beyond its
adolescence.

here’s to the kootenay autumn,
and to what beauty you have chosen to surround yourself with.

may we live in true bliss
at one with all.

nature, revolution

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layers and layers and layers of life
many years lived
and many more still

as I get get older,
etchings on a karmic scale
wrinkles now, and a weathered face

my first grey chest hair
perfectly centered at my heart,
so said She.

She. How many have said to me
that She and me make a great couple

and this is true

and the grey hairs could grow to many
with Her

inside, though, a rebellious spirit:

i cannot settle
i will not settle
until i can settle
a score

which has everything to do with me,
and everything to do with a world
both personal and political
because i take revolution as seriously
as i take my personal evolution

i watch my grey hairs grow
and the wrinkles i don’t mind when they’re formed from my smile

but the aching muscles,
and the baggy eyes
like i’m turning 65 –
gotta let that go

for sure, time is moving fast and
i’m rather lost on this carousel.

anyone that tells me or acts like they aren’t lost,
as if they’ve got a grasp
generally appears to me to be either over-confident, or willfully ignorant,

or blindly ignorant, like a stock marketeer in 1929

so much over-confidence in this world,
that i find it funny when people find me meek
when in my mind, i’ve just met our maker
ahead of the others

and with this maker i’m making plans
working on the long-term vision
perhaps however at some cost to my youth,

cause it ain’t easy to hang with the reaper.

so what’s the formula again?
two parts wisdom one part youth?

i feel like an alchemist that created a new potion
self-administered at age 18 for testing purposes,
dosed myself up,
and i finally just finished peaking
you’re reading my observations

I’m Shiraz S. Thomson

in 6 years i’ll write the conclusion.
just at the end of this merry illusion.

see you there, my love, see you there!

evolution, love, revolution

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i was at the voting booth today.

i saw my friends there.

it gave me hope.

hope much greater than
election outcomes marred by
systemic shortcomings
of brutalized nations
on the verge of
collapse.

i felt a call from within.

i hate the word ‘vote’
in shambles, images burnt into my mind:
signs, screaming, desperation, complacency.

but i biked up that long hill
with two flat tires
and cast my ballot.

on the way down the hill
i thought about my old friend Jaggi
who was on the CBC National the other night
arguing against voting in the federal election.

and the irony of course is
his commentary on national television
is a powerful exercise in democracy itself
for which i do respect my old friend.

this is the synthesis:

when an informed critical pespective bursts onto
mainstream middle-class televisions
encouraging people to re-evaluate the legitimacy of the electoral system

whilst my friends,
artists and believers
strategic conceivers
finally show up at the booths
in the practice of democracy

for this is what it was meant to be:
a collective manifestation
a scape for culture crafting.

let us take the reigns of this political beast
and re-inject it with the artist’s touch
dig into our pallettes, bust out the brush
and paint what it looks like
when beauty runs the world.

revolution

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