Cold Mountain – 50

“If you’re looking for a place to rest,

Cold Mountain is good for a long stay.

The breeze blowing through the dark pines

Sounds better the closer you come.

And under the trees a white haired man

Mumbles over his Taoist texts.

Ten years now he hasn’t gone home;

He’s even forgotten the road he came by.”

8-28-21 Smelly News and Weather Report

“Life is not an accident.” —Morpheus 

Today’s Weather…

– The Northern California air is heavy with smoke today. It’s 82F with sun and haze. Today will be partly sunny, high of 100F, low of 64F. I’ve seen better days. But this one is fine.

In Smelly News…

– Northern California is burning 

🔥

 It is a cleansing fire. Dream homes have burned is all. Wood 🪵  fuel has burned is all. I burn, slow burn. Smell of smoke is in the air. 

– There is more corruption popping up everywhere now in our fallen politics, out of our delusional fear. Corruption abounds. Yet, as all that is temporary falls away, what we are, remains. Castoffs, a mote in God’s eye. This process of living has altered consciousness. 

– I work with electric self driving cars in the dream. I’m here to do the work and I’m doing it. I help train deep learning algorithms to recognize objects and respond. I move massive amounts of data around. Humans are very clever. My approach is a minimal one to support the work, just enough planning. What I am good it is making progress in chaos. Emotions overwhelm logic and reason. How would you program this? Do we want thinking machines with new emotions? If cars had emotion, would they be depressed? Kaizen, continuous improvement, is my way through this. Improve anything I touch and I do. I have a team now I have been building over last 4 months. This has been a new chapter in my own small life and I give joyfully and freely to my team and they respond with their best. AI needs conditioning and training. As do people. It takes practice to be good. To be great? It takes heart. Show me the algorithm for this. I dare you. Ironic while the world burns, I am doing my best work. 

“I know this because I just know, it is my purpose.” —The Keymaster

Today’s poetry…

“I dreamed a dream . . . but now that dream is gone from me.” 

—Daniel 2:3

The Gates Are Open No. 2

In the deepest dark of the Abyss, I sought my escape. 

I heard someone say, “There is no way back unless you find your light.”

No way back unless I find my light?

💡


Hmmmm.

Sounded like some New Age bullshit to me. 

I heard someone say, “If you want to come and see me, you can do so from any and every direction, all the gates are open, there is no concealment. In fact it is ‘All Gate’ and nothing else!”

What a strange thing to say in the middle of the dark. 

When the dark is all around you, what direction should you go?

There is no direction in the dark.

The separation had existed in my mind only. 

I was already that which I had sought.

I was the prison and I was the free bird.

And then I was home again, just like that.

There was a great celebration. 

Everyone came to greet me and we all laughed and laughed until my stomach hurt. Like when you have had too much sweet candy.

And I thought to myself…what a strange dream 😴 😴 😴

Writing in Blood

“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.”

—Ernest Hemingway

I’ll read anyone who leaves blood on the page.

The way of the individual is not a lonely path, it is an intimate experience with everything.

Burgers with Whitman & Friends

Readings from Whitman and friends in my little garden, the burgers and brew were divine.

3 Part Harmony

I keep my dreams to myself…

I can’t show you my source

But I can speak from my heart

Touched by deepest dark 

Aflame with the blue of love

Source of all true

My heart is full of love for thee

Truly

You want to know my depths

Know this 

It comes at you 

As a song in 3 part harmony

My heart is full of love for thee

Truly

Foolish am I 

Chaotic beast 

Tragic 

But I have glimpsed my Light

My sweetness 

The knower and lover of my heart

The holy consumer of my love

I am glad to be consumed by thee

My heart is full of love for thee

Truly

My scrumptious morsel of beauty 

Bitter and sweet 

Divine

embers

a curious
murder of crows descends
like a shimmering cloth
upon the cracked face
of the slumbering earth
blood 🩸 red embers
shimmer in the glowing 🔥
scared 🦶 are heard
scurrying out of
the 🔥 bushes

Let It Be

An ole busker sings me Let It Be.

Thus Spake Zarathustra: Prologue 9

“Long slept Zarathustra; and not only the rosy dawn passed over his head, but also the morning. At last, however, his eyes opened, and amazedly he gazed into the forest and the stillness, amazedly he gazed into himself. Then he arose quickly, like a seafarer who all at once seeth the land; and he shouted for joy: for he saw a new truth. And he spake thus to his heart:

A light hath dawned upon me: I need companions—living ones; not dead companions and corpses, which I carry with me where I will.

But I need living companions, who will follow me because they want to follow themselves—and to the place where I will.

A light hath dawned upon me. Not to the people is Zarathustra to speak, but to companions! Zarathustra shall not be the herd’s herdsman and hound!

To allure many from the herd—for that purpose have I come. The people and the herd must be angry with me: a robber shall Zarathustra be called by the herdsmen.

Herdsmen, I say, but they call themselves the good and just. Herdsmen, I say, but they call themselves the believers in the orthodox belief.

Behold the good and just! Whom do they hate most? Him who breaketh up their tables of values, the breaker, the lawbreaker:—he, however, is the creator.

Behold the believers of all beliefs! Whom do they hate most? Him who breaketh up their tables of values, the breaker, the law-breaker—he, however, is the creator.

Companions, the creator seeketh, not corpses—and not herds or believers either. Fellow-creators the creator seeketh—those who grave new values on new tables.

Companions, the creator seeketh, and fellow-reapers: for everything is ripe for the harvest with him. But he lacketh the hundred sickles: so he plucketh the ears of corn and is vexed.

Companions, the creator seeketh, and such as know how to whet their sickles. Destroyers, will they be called, and despisers of good and evil. But they are the reapers and rejoicers.

Fellow-creators, Zarathustra seeketh; fellow-reapers and fellow-rejoicers, Zarathustra seeketh: what hath he to do with herds and herdsmen and corpses!

And thou, my first companion, rest in peace! Well have I buried thee in thy hollow tree; well have I hid thee from the wolves.

But I part from thee; the time hath arrived. ‘Twixt rosy dawn and rosy dawn there came unto me a new truth.

I am not to be a herdsman, I am not to be a grave-digger. Not any more will I discourse unto the people; for the last time have I spoken unto the dead.

With the creators, the reapers, and the rejoicers will I associate: the rainbow will I show them, and all the stairs to the Superman.

To the lone-dwellers will I sing my song, and to the twain-dwellers; and unto him who hath still ears for the unheard, will I make the heart heavy with my happiness.

I make for my goal, I follow my course; over the loitering and tardy will I leap. Thus let my on-going be their down-going!”

–Friedrich Nietzsche

Nietzsche – Thus Spake Fire

My reading reading from Project Gutenberg’s – Thus Spake Zarathustra – https://www.gutenberg.org/files/1998/… by Friedrich Nietzsche.