Or Some Such

Ben Naga

Just as the separate frames that constitute a reel of film conjure up a continuous reality. (With this reality itself but an illusory imagining of the director, the writer, the actors.

I recall reading of a Buddhist master who, when asked about the nature of reality, enlightenment or some such – I don’t remember the exact question – I have slept many times since then – said nothing but snuffed out a nearby candle and relit it immediately.

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Rainbow Bridge

…..
…..
RAINBOW BRIDGE

“All the world’s a stage”

…..SUBSTANCE

The original Unset of the Show was One
But with no Set the Show could not be shown
So the Formless Form, to see who it might be
Formed an Idea called Reality
Dissolved its unity into two
The Projection Room and the Angel/Man you
The freedom of the sands of Time was formed into bricks
And this ordering of freedom was named Politics

…..SPACE

Angels are mermen who swim in the See
But dwell for a season in the Sardine Factory
In the Sardine Factory they all become Preachers
And everyone has their uniform, even the art teachers
At the door of the Projection Room some aspect of your Mother
Dressed up as an usherette is bound to stop you, brother
To see that you’re not taking any matches through
And everyone is Man/Angel/Mother/Politician/Me/You

…..RAINBOW BRIDGE

As the One/Not One became two, don’t forget
That three and four were needed to complete the Set
Nothing motivates like a puzzle unsolved
So three possible forms of Politics were evolved
The Politics of East/West, Experience and Ecstasy
And each Sardine was held by the four Chains of the See
The four major suits in the Game That Binds
Substance, Space, Power … and Time

(Rainbow Bridge is the game and the place where we play it
Though those who sense this transience may seldom dare to say it)

…..POWER

So the Sardine can be Man the Seer
And sit in the stalls with a can of beer
Or the Politician and Moral Defector
And sit in a Cabinet and run the Projector
He can be Mother and remain on the ground
Ushering all the others around
Or escape into Angelic Space and See
– If not he is inevitably all the other three

…..TIME

The Politics of East/West race the projector hour by hour
And try to hold the trumps of Time to make a bid in Power
The Politics of Experience hold the film at one small frame
Know Now and Here is Nowhere and it’s (really) all the same
The Politics of Ecstasy require you bring a match
And set light to the held frame – celluloid burns like thatch
Wave Politics goodbye, let the Freedom of Angels float
Smuggle in a match and don’t forget to register to vote …

…..With acknowledgements to R. D. Laing (The Politics of Experience), Timothy Leary
…..(The Politics of Ecstasy) and Robin Williamson (U), himself owing something to
…..L Ron Hubbard’s MEST.

PAIN

The Book Of Guff

PAIN

“Why is it so hard for some to show and others to see?”

Perhaps it is the fear of pain.

It is widely believed that the opposite of love is hatred, but closer examination reveals that the true opposite of Love is Fear; hatred always has its roots in Fear.

Fear makes us close up and deny; Love invites us to open and share.

Perhaps it is only when we readmit Love that the healing of the pain can begin.

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Immigré

…..
…..
…..
IMMIGRÉ

It’s tough living here
Concealment and masquerade
Sap my energy
Among “friends and family”
Mobiles don’t let you phone home

The Plot

Ben Naga

THE PLOT

So here’s the thing
The bones of the plot
Indentured – sent here to seek out
Some divinity’s golf ball
Lobbed ineptly into the rough
And lost the plot, dammit

What to do now then?
Make it up as you go along I s’pose
Keep up appearances
Develop the plot – obfuscate
Protagonist or antagonist?
Still working on that one

Nosing into who knows what
Nosily, noisily researching
Day by day, day after day
A gradually unfolding autobiography
Maybe already recorded elsewhere anyway
Plots within plots within plots

Move the goal posts – travel
Pick up a few subplots – partner, children
The odd sour note – bastards!
Relieve the monotone at least
Fandangle, froufrou, superfluity
At the end of the day

Still, no use complaining
Go check the codicil
Play the victim, all innocence
Perhaps in a sense I am
Though inner sense tells me
’twas I…

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BIT PART

The Book Of Guff

BIT PART

Anonymous, unavowed
This unremarkable string
Fastened in place with pegs
To the harp’s framework
No specific name or title

Beyond the one designated
Conventionally to this one
Frequency of vibration
In one among various
Tonal systems – Pinned

The name, the tone, is true
Only if the string is stretched
To one unvarying degree
Not too tense, nor too slack
That one pure perfect note

Which, plucked over and over
Soon becomes monotonous
Quite void of all interest
A bore, dull and tedious
No wonder – Look at the word

Shush, they’re about to begin
The harp gives angelic voice
Our unremarked string sings
No longer a sole monotone
Key note in the heavenly choir

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In His Cups

…..
…..
A sip of wine
A hint of melody …
Hallowed foundations
Shift ungoverned

Melt into lavaflows
Unleash unadmitted yearnings
Challenge this paltry masquerade
Yelled from minaret or pulpit

Hounded by fatwa and heresy
Across the centuries, this dented I
Which has, for all of that brouhaha
Such shallow roots

Must be why they ban
These dangerous demons
Intoxication, music,
Dancing, sex

While we for our part
Fight tooth and nail
To retain or else regain
These royal roads

Home

Owning Up

…..
…..
You? Me? These others?
… Ambient Intelligence
Living out some dream.
Our science and religion?
Blind grapplings toward the truth.

Imprisoned Spirits

…..
…..
Wandering – long banished from wondering
This barren lost vocabulary – unhallowing

Words and concepts dreamed into being
Then dreamed into the material of being

Glued a k to each passing now moment
I know – You don’t – Ongoing argument

Th’Aethereal hypnotised as Smith n Jones
Cemented – clay and limestone – stones

Stagger from audit to audit, from bill to bill
Sisyphus, cloned interminably, climbs the hill

Responsibility

…..
…..
Everythink arises
Then in time abides
Then in time subsides

While we – enamoured
Indifferent or appalled
Complicit nonetheless

No Nuremberg excuses
No Pontius Pilates we

Was we gave the orders
Not just obeyed them