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WAY OF THE SEVEN STARS


Response To That Final Question:

Ignorance is the Bane of Man.
At a distance removed,
Dimly remembered, and
Still not seen distinct,
But yet somehow felt;
What we do sense
Is not reality; is not the Real Thing.
This World is hologram.
Then; for lucid sleep;
For it's just a dream
Within another dream
And we are not awake.

Seven Stars' Song of Revelation

Ignorance is a jail where no escape
Is possible but through knowledge.
Don't fear nor spurn. Dare to learn:

Assent to and accept this world as it is
Before attempting ascent to any world
Aspired to or wished for. Life's glorious!

That That Is can be known but by few.
Not space, not time, not gravity exists;
But as Extension from Field of Thought.

Be subject to neither church nor crown.

Dread naught. Disdain none: Not One!
Absent That That Is, there's Nothing.

That That Is, IS. That That's Not, IS, too.
That That's Not makes That That Is: IS.
That That Is makes That That's Not BE.

By rowing to That That Is, I become "I."
Wind + Water = Wave. As THOUGHT is
The Heart and The Nave of The Wheel.

Worlds are created from Thought alone.
That which we will do is because of that
What we are. We'll become who we are.

Charity, courtesy, civility, compassion,
Are cardinal spokes making civilization;
Chivalry forms center, hub's circle core.

IS is! Be not the slave of some other's I.
This, Creed of our Seven Stars Society;
This, The Teaching of the Seven Stars:

No man can be happy if he should choose
To be exile from his own nature and soul.
ALL IS THOUGHT ILLUMINATING BEING

Precognitive Prescient Prophetic Poetry by WILLIAM O'CONNOR

Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Grand Central Terminal: Vernal Equinox Section 3

Cyclone train snorting forwards, furious fast into a spangled night of stars spilled clean of clouds; its angry engine of an empire still as yet drives it ahead, its lamp shining straight in a bright, wide gaze.

Monday, July 30, 2012

Grand Central Terminal: Vernal Equinox Section 2

Night-crawling steam-engine, with your sleek head-lamp single spot-beam light sweeping forwards, piercing straight to jump-break from the prison of the surrounding and the enclosing dark; travel on.

Sunday, July 29, 2012

Grand Central Terminal: Vernal Equinox Section 1

At hiss of steel wheel against a rail and splenetic whistle sounding in the still of the night, when the moon in full has high raised high her lamp of gold above; soul companions ride upon the train of life. 

Friday, July 27, 2012

Blue Mountain Blues: Winter Solstice Section 48

Pause into a question of suspension: What is this ghastliness, this ghostliness, that so enthralls us still? Life!

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Blue Mountain Blues: Winter Solstice Section 47

Winter's bleeding cold is defiance against the dark. Rain comes in to bring with it reflective desolation, questioning lightning's anger's spoken, spiking, spearing, words; hatred spouting harsh resentments.

Monday, July 23, 2012

Blue Mountain Blues: Winter Solstice Section 46

You gave freedom away to pension your future. You sped your mind into a recession, so twisted trails of decrepitude shadow upon your struggled stumble back home to your beginnings; to scarred reality. 

Blue Mountain Blues: Winter Solstice Section 45

Flotsam of air, dead trees wave levels of void within their vacant limbs; in their floating high collapsing branches, breaking canopies of fluid desiccation.

Saturday, July 21, 2012

Blue Mountain Blues: Winter Solstice Section 44

Was born when I was born, but had died long before I died; my soul languishes in the empty cavity of heart. It's absent still, robbed of all desire.

Friday, July 20, 2012

Blue Mountain Blues: Winter Solstice Section 43

Iris closing in the sudden sun, a successive shining begins each breaking day. Even though it be brought in by a winter's sun, it's still excessive. Sunrise serves too much of dawning light too soon.

Thursday, July 19, 2012

Blue Mountain Blues: Winter Solstice Section 42

Always the life that has been fore-tuned in tonic key to chance shall end in dissonance and in a despair.

Friday, July 13, 2012

Blue Mountain Blues: Winter Solstice Section 41

Look at these graves. That mere scribble set upon this slattern sleeve of earth, so hastily scratched into dust, was the sole will we had. We wanted to remain remembered, every last one of us; not just as a laid out, skeletal, fossil. Once firm writ, now has become indistinct, was inscribed upon tombstone as short legacy for our life. It's erased and is left by a nothing, not to be. We had hoped, at the very least, for some future generation's small memory of care. 

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

Blue Mountain Blues: Winter Solstice Section 40

Chrome for eyes and steel for a heart, lungs of brass and having copper liver, robot men make a stagger of life; for small in stature, diseased in mind, they struggle even to walk short distance.

Monday, July 9, 2012

Blue Mountain Blues: Winter Solstice Section 39

Blindfolded man you have no inner star to guide you. Nothing shines within you, just this sad dimming blankness that forever stays inside.

Saturday, July 7, 2012

Blue Mountain Blues: Winter Solstice Section 38

Did it mean anything to you at all; anything, all of them rejected long-lost days? You step each day with a careful liquid foot, while avoiding all the depressed holes from your past. But listen! It's an old music they'll perform. Something that's from that lengthy time before, for memory is the large land that none can survey; just ghosts inhabit it. 

Friday, July 6, 2012

Blue Mountain Blues: Winter Solstice Section 37

Shade and shade alone, a warm shade, is given by the full moon on mid-winter's coldest night; a shield against the memory of the distant sun. Void of deepest indigo serves as a canopy above for a bridge of time.

Thursday, July 5, 2012

Blue Mountain Blues: Winter Solstice Section 36

Woodsman, walk alone. Beware the barks in the night, the howls of beasts that hunt at each other over religion, over politics, over culture; biting at nothings. Silence, as in response to ignorance, is courage.

Tuesday, July 3, 2012

Blue Mountain Blues: Winter Solstice Section 35

Take a walk through time. Indignant man, did you expect to change your past? You shall not be forgiven anything. Every word that ever you spoke is a hammer upon you, every word. Every action, a sword strike cutting into you. Did you think you could escape from the recordings of your life? Everything you've done was put down; was notated. Your whole life is a ledger of mediocrity. 

Blue Mountain Blues: Winter Solstice Section 34

Covered in ashes, colored in daub white hues, its dreaming landscape dressed in beige, where silence is the sole echo of our wintry despair; the mountain of madness rises up before us.

WILLIAM O'CONNOR

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