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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.

Precognitive Prescient Prophetic Poetry by WILLIAM O'CONNOR

Saturday, June 25, 2016

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 78

Voice in the head;
But fear in the throat,
And then nothing gets said.
Words are dictated to oneself
By oneself. If the words are true,
They born seed in verse to flower
Into poetry. If words are common,
They'll fall into prose, a meaner art.

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 77

We have become a people
Of a difference. A split between
Us has occurred; in evolution and
In a devolution. Half of us belong
To our past. Half aspire to the future.
None now belong to the present.

Wednesday, June 22, 2016

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 76

Amoeba eating away at the Will of America is avarice; is the fat slug of grub for greed, is the tapeworm of ambition for possession that diminishes; that starves venturing further for ever farther far frontiers.

Tuesday, June 21, 2016

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 75

Significance is everything. Though what we do appears without purpose, seems absent of any reason or logic; what is in us gradually will advance to the fore; then revelation happens: We become who we are.

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 74

Lust and greed, avarice of desire, drive politics. Candidates talk of change while citizens sleep unaware. Sole arguments among parties engaged in politics are only between which castes shall control peoples.

Monday, June 20, 2016

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 73

Strawberry moon, berry red,
Shining in the short night of
Solstice colors the river in
Winter, smears it in blood;
As slow cascades of silent
Black waves slash on its
Snow-filled white shores,
Sounding a warning crash
To no one there in the dark.

Sunday, June 19, 2016

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 72

It burns you. It consumes you.
Visions of works you still got to do.
The songs. The poems. Those films
There still there hiding in the head.
Growing larger. Crowding together.
Pushing forward waiting to be born.

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 71

Purpose of life is:
To bend Time; to
Fold it, to sustain
Chords from Past
Into a far Future.
If what we did in
Life has relevance
To generations to
Come; has impact,
Life wasn't wasted.

Friday, June 17, 2016

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 70

In a strange place
In a strange time,
Pale light from a gold
Moon, shines in slivers;
In cold silver, chaining,
Night to sleep; locking in,
Far distant suns of vision;
Tangling in ropes of doubt:
What are we, but dreams?

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 69

Deserted woods, silent from calls of birds, is: Land of Death. Nothing moves here. Nothing stirs here. Deserts of desiccation; dry trees drooped by dried branches. We started as Hamlet; ended up as Lear.

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 68

Light-stepping man, gravity of care eludes you now. It will all change and burden of responsibility shall weigh you down. You'll see your father in your mirror when you shave. You've become your own ghost.

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 67

Our education is an erasure of everything that can set us free. Taught to have faith in a State that never cared for us, except as vessels for exploitation to use to serve its needs; as we've forgotten of our own.

Thursday, June 16, 2016

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 66

Scales upon eyes are cataracts of faiths blinding depriving vision. What seems obvious to believers, to zealots, appears distorted to observers; to outsiders, to outcasts from religion. Step back. See. Ponder.

Tuesday, June 14, 2016

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 65

The cavity of doubt is implanted is abscessed by any ideology promising a truth not proved by reason. Non-verified faith eats away at enamel of logic; crumbles it, destroys it, till all that's left of life is fear.

Monday, June 13, 2016

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 64

Revelation spawns civilization. It gives birth to progress. That which has been made known to ourselves by ourselves; that which was hidden from ourselves by strictures of societies is what makes the future. 

Friday, June 10, 2016

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 63

To the dead we owe our deliverance; to those who have gone before us, bearing the pains of existence, enduring it without complaint as to how unfair it is. They did it for us, our ancestors and our forebears.

Wednesday, June 8, 2016

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 62

Spell tomorrow in the magic of yesterday. The relay race of civilization is run by giving the baton to our successors in handing it over. Our day is done and they shall carry it forwards. What was will always be.

Tuesday, June 7, 2016

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 61

Groan for the City of the Night in its devastation given over to dark-walkers, needing no Moon to see by, in their silent trudging, stepping in deftness, not knowing each other; guided by thin light from phones.

Monday, June 6, 2016

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 60

Sculpture your verse to make it be electric in memory. Poetry should look good as well as sound good. More senses it elicits, the more powerful it is. Words smell and taste; move and dance. Meaning is last.

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 59

To have validity; to have good logic in opinion, facts must be sought, must be known; must be stated in format promoting fostering perception. Obscure is absent meaning; so state always in common tongue.

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 58

Word makes Flesh; but beneath both word and flesh is the very same number and beneath that number is this Void from which it springs to make both word and flesh. Beneath Void is Nothingness: No-Thing.

Saturday, June 4, 2016

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 57

We're all of us born too soon and way before our time. If only we had been born later; then, maybe, just maybe, we would perhaps have been recognized; maybe lauded for what we truly were. But. Maybe not.

Friday, June 3, 2016

Blue Sun Series: Confluence: Verse 56

There are prime people. There are sub-prime people. There are they who can and do; have good credit, so are creative. There are they who said they could and would; have bad credit, are not. Which are you?


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