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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

Thursday, April 28, 2016

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 43

Only memories remain
When dying to the World,
With descendants, yet alive;
As a remembrance of them gone.
Some small gesture a child makes
Is the same; is the very one, once made
By some ancestor, long dead now; that
Very same movement repeated,
Again.

Tuesday, April 26, 2016

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 42

World we see is what we are;
A reflection of ourserves; not,
What IS. That's something else
Entirely. Avarice for acquisition
Stems from paranoia of existence.
It comes from a fear of knowing
There's something else out there;
From being deaf to the listening;
To the hearing of music in the tempo
In the harmony of the flow of things.

Monday, April 25, 2016

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 41

Monkey chattering in the Mind;
In that continuous chittering, 
Arguing with the Self; against
Thought is slowed down, is
Silenced, is stilled, to allow
Voice of within and without,
To become louder, clearer; to
Become distinct, to call itself:
Poetry. 

Sunday, April 17, 2016

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 40

Their name is government
These free grazers on humanity.
They batten fat upon results
Sown by others' toils; became
Obese because of indolence.
They, themselves, do nothing;
But make sure none others
Could or can do anything.

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 39

A porcelain people, easily smashed,
Must be handled with utmost care.
It's what every politician does.
Caress them with prejudice.
Handle them with patriotism.
Never ever drop them onto
The hard floor of Truth.

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 38

Our purpose is to scribe the present
So as to ensure: there is the future.
What seems so antique in the past
Is reflected yet again in the present;
Again is repeated, mirrored in the future;
For nothing should be forgotten
Of the follies of Men.

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 37

The task
Is to reconcile
Oneself with one's Self.
Cults, caused by religions,
Cause by faiths in states,
Have murdered millions:
All they, not of one's Tribe,
Were destined; have been
Assigned to a slaughter.
There be many faiths.
There be many beliefs.
There be many nations.
These ideologies, which
Entangled; twisted minds
To martyrdom, are steps,
To Ascend. Religion's
Purpose is: To pave
The Way to a Birth
Of the New Man.

Saturday, April 16, 2016

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 36

These lords of finance; these sham
Priests of economics, druids of capital;
These bankers, and all of these brokers,
Who brought so much ruin to the world,
Smile, with a smirking grin, concealing,
Canine teeth are ready; so ready to yet
Again, to send more unsuspecting men
To wage rapacious war to benefit them.

Thursday, April 14, 2016

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 35

That mortar shell, which exploded, to
Inflate our universe with shrapnel; its
Seminal shards of matter to make us;
Fired and launched, from that hostile
Nation of Nothingness, which claims
Us as its prisoner, when it is we die:
Mortality has declared we're at war!

Sunday, April 10, 2016

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 34

What seems least forced
Makes for a better art.
Effort, when concealed,
Confers attitude of ease;
A freedom from restraint
From the rules of form;
Of liberty from the laws
Of rectitude in statement
In modes for expression. 

Saturday, April 9, 2016

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 33

The world has been made undone
By the loss of memory of its past.
Each generation repeats the same mistakes. Each generation suffers the same amnesias. Again. Again. Again. Always. The same sad
History is repeated.

Friday, April 8, 2016

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 32

Reality needs a verification;
Needs always to be questioned.
Existence strolls leisurely through
Avenues of inquiry and walks lonely streets
Of doubts, doubling back, to find itself again. Each question makes for its own answer,
In the manner that it was asked and there's
Many a detour and dead-end along the Way.

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 31

To live as we do now
In a state of ignorance
Is; to abjure the One
That is the Self. It's to
Renounce that which
We are and that which
We should be, to divide;
To separate. What ought
To be the same; should
Be congruent, married;
Not alien to each other.

Tuesday, April 5, 2016

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 30

Never to be at peace with Death;
Always to fight against oblivion:
That's the War. That's the Struggle!
Once life ceases; comes, following on
The Blackness, a coma of nothingness.
So take any opportunity for creativity.
Nothing follows on existence. Just,
Small paucities, for works, in Life!

Sunday, April 3, 2016

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 29

In them, years and days,
They had faces then and
Voices too in them days.
Not those grimaces and
The screeches one sees
Nowadays. Something,
Was lost in translation;
In a transition, from our
Past to present; perhaps,
Some higher standards;
Perhaps, it was our Soul.

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 28

So that it can then be created;
Each universe evolves its deity.
Ours is Energy. What we think
We see; what it is, we think we
Know, is flux and foam and form
Of power, of energy; the power
Of twin adhesion and repulsion. 

Saturday, April 2, 2016

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 27

So now, yes, here we are again.
The same old place we thought
We left so long ago. Funny how
It turned out. Nothing changed,
But for us. Thought; we're going
Somewhere. Turned out; we're
Merely running in place. We run
On the treadmill of life. Despite
All our efforts; all of our works,
Here we are in the same place.
Again.

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 26

None of it is real. It's all a fantasy.
Whatever it's we're told to believe,
To honor; to respect; youthful truths
Which had seemed so obvious then,
Now seem fraudulent and frivolous,
But we miss them.

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 25

A lot was lost in translation.
It was always made up, was
Created by men; but, it had
Some sustenance to it; had
Some real solace, in attempt
To justify, to explain, and to
Ameliorate, travesties of life.
And now: Now. It's all gone.

Friday, April 1, 2016

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 24

Bleak lights begin to shine
Weakly in parks of the City,
Now that dusk has begun.
But park paths are empty.
Lamps begin to glow pale
Gold; even, as being still lit
By twilight. But. People fear to
Sroll. They're afraid to come.
Of what, they do not know.

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 23

Perhaps, you really do
Got something, maybe
Profound to say;
Something of portent,
Of a revelation, of
A prediction of a future
Event. Then of a sudden,
Microphone goes dead;
Web site closes down.
Whatever it was,
It is lost forever.
Maybe not important.

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 22

Reason and Logic fused
Together, form, but vain
Wall for Understanding.
We die and we die, for
No purpose despite all
Efforts of politicians,
Of priests, and all the
Philosophers; to state
Some meaning in Death.

WILLIAM O'CONNOR

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