SOTO-METIC

Last event of the year on December 30! Soto is very excited... Beautifully designed flyer by my friend Franky...

Another Exquisite Corpse

Ending twilight Omega rising
Dusk from beyond
Your handwriting beckons retrospect re-connect
dissecting my voice with broken chords
Cadences Stile brisee Chaotic order ringing monophony
Transport telepathic phone call in fugato style
Mezzoforte sotto voce Believe what I say there are
no coincidences Only fate can check mate
Feel the pulp in every gulp
Of newspaper, today's headline reads...
Underwater, the planet breathes
Exhaling innocence divine haloes of the sacred mind
A circle within a circle a frame to find
An eye a face a trace a smile a style to define
A line figuratively alive
And round the ground bass magic of sound
variations abound movements, the twelfth fold
division of the octave sounds
referencing your mind tangled twine
spaghetti bliss first last kiss Forever is infinite
lest we forget... Alpha every Pythagorean comma
Moments bi-furcate, years conquer fears as the
Neopolitan ice cream icicles trickling tetrachords
Only us. Vibration and the subconscious of mother, collective
Earth, Inhabitants abide
She gives birth to a sigh absorbing the noosphere,
the universal mind's ear, everywhere alpha, the omega
is near, i hold you most dear within time's imperfect
sphere, this is why we are H E R E A C E G B D
the thirds are seeds Evolving Simean beings
Listening actively to the ringing in their ears!
Intrinsic music of the spheres Muses
three-fold may be SONG, PRACTICE, MEMORY.


by Carl and I

Tree Branches

my new album

recollection of some days

watery nature
everything from the same source
monogenesis
symbol equal to word

eye am not here and eye am not self.

sparkles on the water
vivid in the wind
Breathe our planet's breath

good day for a rainbow
slow beat heart motion
planet mathematics
microscopic pupil, center focus, background language
Harpsichord fingers in the digital realm
Welcome to our quality time, never ending bell
Eyes want to tell about the wind chimes__
observing wings in movement, adrift
Rhythm up with tidal wave, a spiral staircase to the
unseen; Ensō prism research, geometric tears
Nonordinary reality (to become a man of knowledge)

Poet language monteur
Morning events, azure overhang, cast eyes upward
looking for the everseen
swooned by midday captured enraptured
undefined senses of being on loudspeakers
Magic of mechanics, roots absorbed and never solid.

TRANSLATION

this is an exquisite corpse Carl and I wrote:

the identity element is the numerical god particle
there is a noise key of granulated fibers, light implosions holographic
symposium, syntax spicy grace notes, muse physics ewe's physique
ballet mecanique, Lusitania transatlantic, underground stations
rejuvenating vibration. layering bridges, diapason
harmonics hold me invisible in the dim pedernal night
four elements show the way of existence to the neophyte
individual mind omnipotence, collective mind omnipresence, transcendence
negating opposition. imperfect beauty. feedback awake, zarathustra
love tangents four epic chords vocalizing dreams' lucidity

digital divinity
welcome to infinity concentric circle
sacred spiral
empirical denial
let's gather for a nightcap
fermented monocotyledon
plant a garden of myself
Beside the Alpha and Omega
broken branches in the brain
freedom through hunger
wisdom through pain
fire in the heart
the liquor from the golden
unicorn's bridal cup*
blood is wine, never can have enough

omni-tonality harmony basso Continuo D.C. al coda dominant
prolongation sound check becomes second development
first movement sonata form, second movement
rondo variation tree forms life giving wind leit motive
of your mind brushing the leaves extra skycommunication
one stroke method by far gone star frankincense & myrrh
message to be heard three to five words on a wire
why are we now? in a non-existent time existential spine and vein
transmit the rondo's refrain, what's more to explain.

tell me first, is it Transmit the rondo's rhyme or refrain?

*referenced from a silent film called Destiny (Der Müde Tod) directed by Fritz Lang, 1921

DADA

Emmy Hennings with her angry puppet, Zurich, 1917.

de gustibus et coloribus non est disputandum

http://apod.nasa.gov/apod/ap070624.html

Blue Planet Open Ears

TIME TRAVELERS

Break the bonds with more bonds still to fray, as you are gone only this day, of which no time remains. Because now is yesterday, and forty seconds become sculpted as years of clay, as now i speak, now i scream and whisper the same. As we file through these fractions, all the while we fill the blanks and say, spelling out our arguments with underlined words and punctuation. I exclaim as you refrain, become pixelated in your face, water buckets in the well, swimming, we detain. Chiseling our quarries still, fills me with much disdain, I am spoken, from whispers I refrain as points and abbreviations come to claim. I am you but where are we, as filled with eternal marble debris, pious porn impeccable peach by which we are beseeched. Still I look on feather quills with weathered eyes of where to be, what's to come, and what's to say, because for you now is yesterday.

By the vibrate formed irate swallowed senseless form of guilt.
Wallowed up inside the duct tape scraping at the mouth.
Your face is pixelated, silent echoes are reverberated.
Icicles anticipated with spaghetti on the brain.
Parched in pieces, spare but one penny for my jar.

So I know that soon we will conclude, just as this spice still eludes
I am me and you are you and reversal of us
plus two is sure to never make it through, sidewinding seven zeroes, equals my embrace.

Up to par, we are far, hours of pennies in my jar, a chance, I may have this dance, with some sergeant sold, and spent.

Take a second out for goodness' sake as into the glass the copper breaks, as I am last in line again, you are third, as we combine the word. Vocals become text as I was last, now I'm next fulfilling backbones bent and spines tangled, the wires of our brains become a mangled mess as we are transported telepaths through squares and dare not ask why. The filaments fry, embossed with curves and scents that cost us cells.

You tell us so much of what's inside your spaghetti's recipe and such, from the place that has been carved out of your maple face, grains I trace in ellipses on their axes. Converted mixed and sniffled rosemary, a rhombus hazel craze of 'hope'. Tourist, why did you underline navel, put a dot next to a less than sign. These sine wave ripples never end, frequencies of the LFO's bend, we all follow the robot trend, desensitized from hours as they turn to seconds.

See you tomorrow in five years, dive into the blue planet with open ears, see you in Venus' hollow sphere, contrived, a castle, forlorn to hear.


-2008 performance piece.. "HERE IS THERE"

SOTO & us

sleeping poet

on the phone with souls

stolen from the sent away

mastering the art of Volume

the poet is asleep, external silence

where she can become nothing

visiting death's cousin

time to awake and re-dedicate to now

to the infinite language that 

is spoken very well

good night, and thank you

good morning

good and bad

want what you do not want 

do not want what you want

want not, do you, what want

no desire

no suffering

connections of all

placid and peaceful

for the poet who is asleep

visiting death's cousin

everything becomes a blur

now, for focused times

infinite gratitude for opposites

forever sound endures

At blue 7 AM Father rains from the sky
To Mother in every Unseen crevice
Uddhamsoto born this day
Contemplating his first
The phases turn again
Lost here, found in now
Each brick lift Broken branch levitate
Changing EQs Goodbye for now
Succumbed to existance Partial to it
Embers, remembrance Up with the tide
Expansion wide Pi Eye L.O.V.E.

my long lost spaceship

heaven is here

jian'ai

universal love

兼愛

questions

what is this?
what am i?
where are you?
why are we?
what are we?
when are we?
when am i?
when are you?
where am i?
why is this?
what are you?
why are you?
how are you?

questions, questions
not to be answered now.

making music...

is beautiful.

imbued by the spiral

i am a wish/fish come true

swimming through existance,

splashing with my eyes.

ink and symbols activate,

as sure as i am alive.

whatever's meant to be 

is simply meant to be, 

and who's to tell, but we;

a living symbol, free.

satori

Satori as the Zen experience must be concerned with the entirity of life,

For what Zen proposes to do is the revolution and revaluation as well, of oneself as a spiritual unity;

The opening of satori is the remaking of life itself;

Here now, and ready to turn on my forest lights

in my mind works

N A N O _ S O U P

NEW EP released on CORPORA ALIENA


NANO-SOUP

answers

got you some solar flowers

a peace offering

a departing presence

an arrival of realization gift

18 keeps playing

leaving the dark, webs of distraction

won't ask how or why

quote.

"I think life is both shit and wonderful in equal measure."

-mu mixer

embroidery by muumuu

Dialogue

between me and not me

creates a breathing space

where the clouds feel real

embracing the texture with crescent eyes

pushing buttons, overloading CPU

this conversation between us two

here and not here

seasons visible

reasoning questionable

setting, rising self every day

where i can subside to get away

major melody always ringing

bringing to a halt destructive tendency

breathing my own latency

sustaining the keys in mind

the forest that is the mind

the leaves are still green, blown on the breeze

drifting in the air

my dialogue with non-self in the noosphere

the chorus vibrates internally

the choragos chanting, unrelenting

while my self requests consistently for peace

the way of the world, it cannot be granted

a matter of moments

days become years

when one is here and not here

now here in nowhere

confined chaos

implosions, there is
too much to see and hear,
all in all too much to comprehend
if it ever seems not enough, keep piling the wooden lettered blocks
stack the useless thoughts in an organized manner
filing away the days, the noise, the nonsense
fashion a non-self, that is what you are
pay no mind to what is matter
a proclaimed illusion, abandoned delusions
exeunt reality, so somewhere far off in imagination
explosion would be a definite possibility
and memory, not at all an option
as a geyser, streaming into space
interpret these words, which have become numbers
hurdle over and burrow under
sense of self, detached;
fluent, like a river
silent, as the mountains'
geometric peaks
chaos in confinement when i fare well not to speak
acknowledging the unseen forces at work
to make all moments what they are.

l.o.v.e.

look on very excitedly

look over variable energy

long optimism vouching emptiness

liquid orange vapor evaporating

likeness opening vanquished elegy

lured onto valley edge

lifelike other varieties enable

left on visitor exact

leaped out ventana easily

left over variable energies

long overcome vertical endeavors

lucid onyx vision entrenched

likewise overwhelming varieties efficient

lucent omega verb exhaling

laughing out vivaciously ending

lights off vindictive elsewhere

livid obscure vexations eating

less of velocity escalating

lonely overwhelming victorious each

letters outside valour eclipsed

lines optional valiance elsewhere

lift or vault essence

loop or vanquish early

likeness opposition vicarious even

leading over voltage equilibrium

leaving out vices effective

living only vocalizing equanimity

lunar opening vortex evolving

OG AND ME

Nature Reflection

The trees stand tall and watch,

Leaves fluttering in the breeze, reflecting light.

The pattern is that of white noise;

It enters my mind with grace

And sings back gently, in memory.

The water runs smoothly over the rocks.

Clear currents visible, soothing to the eye.

A steady sound of earth's peaceful vein,

A consistent, gentle flow,

Where the fish swim and the green grows.

How soft, the wind that brushes my skin,

It circulates and spins;

The finest air travels down from the tops of trees

To embrace us with its cooling touch.

It is invisible and I feel it well.

Walking up the mountain, the scent fills my nostrils.

The incline is steep and my breath becomes heavy,

The roots of the trees pop out like steps to guide,

As I scale a side of the world,

Transcending the top with clarity in mind,

Deep in the forest, sounds are amplified;

Voices reverberate through thousands of tree trunks,

The branches scrape the blue of the sky in praise of the sun;

The light shining through the canopies of leaves

As I contemplate further how we are all one.

haikus for two nights

fog haze on the field,

the moon makes a gradient

fading from above.

tall grasses flicker,

creating a static maze

we sense with our toes.

i hear you from afar,

connecting direct moments

separate from time.

orbiting, still unseen,

the low cloud on the field 

departs for the day.

RED SMILES: renku

Rising into light

Connected to the moon's face

The spiral sees all

A cycled color circle

The shape of form and spirit

Red painted the past

The tree stands in the future

Still in yesterday

Leaves tremble without the wind

Their veins, ever blossoming

Run in the forest

Pulsating green energy

We have so longed for

Breathing in the mist and dew

A silent song is spoken

The sun is the heart

Breathing slow and watching close

Creating shadow

It follows us everywhere

Flying free from the branches

No audio time

Singing chords and fleeting hordes

Alone, ring the chime

Inhaling the mist and dew

A silent song is spoken

Seeds that cannot grow

Patiently wait on the sill

Planted in the mind

Hushed with determined focus

Watching each breath, in and out

Not by our own choice

We feel that which was here

Before we were here

Steady falling rain brushes 

The leaves as we run through them

I am my father

Connected, I know

We sing through smiles

my new album:

http://www.femrecords.com

time factory

death is knocking at the door

what a colorful cycle!

12:00 forgotten the art of longhand

desires wilt as flowers

Oghatinnoti

i want you to meet my new friend.

this is Oghatinnoti!

he is really special to me!

he is happy to meet you.

the thought of making hummus

i remember once, an octopus came to my house and made hummus

now,

just thinking about making hummus makes me content and fills me with joy

a truly pleasant feeling

the taste of olives in brine is truly divine

thinking about the taste, i can taste the thought

and it makes me smile and laugh

everything is a miracle

nonduality

facts are not solid

good = bad

question or statement?

we are one and not separate

we are not really our selves

defined by creeping moss

the facial expressions crevices in rocks

the soothing sound of running water

but shock never wears off

it disappears at times

from where our path leads us

coloring outside the lines

when we become sun chasers

because you wished it would stay

as faced with desolate grey

nothing is permanent, thank goodness

as the days glide before our eyes

and the trails the planes leave in the sky

no two moments are the same

"what do you surmise?"

we can all withstand samsara,

it has never been a breeze;

these chasms of sarcasm, 

this abyss of unrest.

the way to nirvana has been shared with me,

i am now sewing my seeds.

circumscribed earthquakes,

geometric rainbow trees.

i smell something sweet

as Isis stays with me.

Oghatinnoti embraces 

when i am in need.

he does love me dearly,

with my magenta moon phases.

sunflower retinas, galaxies in dream;

awake during sleep, neutralized desire.

muses sing softly, chanting in the depths

of the ocean where all is calm,

i am patient for time

when i will join in their song.

Aikido

in harmonious rhythms

the universe is 

a single song

all encompassing, in which we are composed

with every rhythmic step we take.

"Those who are possessed by nothing possess everything."

-The Art of Peace

 By Morihei Ueshiba, John Stevens

eyes in the tree

adrift in shine, here more today than ever before

Faith is power to believe and power to see...

-- Prentice Mulford

धैर्य

Are you sure?

We should not be sure of any perceptions we have... the image of the sun is eight minutes behind time. Is it possible then, that we are actually time traveling through our vision while admiring a sunset?

संसार

samsara

the wheel turns, in the past, we are here, we are there
i vow to always be here in the now, where i am.

true>false

"Mistaking the false for the true

And the true for the false,

You overlook the heart

And fill yourself with desire.

See the false as false,

The true as true.

Look into your heart,

Follow your nature."

-from "Choices" in the DHAMMAPADA

Is the mirror truly false?

"Woman Before a Mirror" by Picasso

analogue eyes and misconstrued space-time 

spirits sing through microscopic crystals and waveforms

the soul is eclipsed by the pupil, lucid day of sideways snow

a trinity of spirals traced into transit

mirrors have been proven to deceive

on the same day, waved to my own satellite,

greeted my shadow as it were my reflection 

existence is delusion, orbiting 

theoretical is quantum

fluorescent flickering

presence of vision

my new song is called...

the menae

false mirror

Rene Magritte 

1928

window fog

precision cuts apples

vacate our temples of spirit

hourglass everlasting

infiltrate thoughts

multifaceted spiraling seclusion

mental cut and paste

am i here or there?

Aurora, where'd you go?

where were you when the clock struck blue,

the day the plate returned with the fork,

the night when endymion finally woke.

where were you when the silent tree fell,

when gravity was given its name and 

dreams were swallowed by the wishing well.

i have been here all along,

hiding, 

disguised in white ruffles as saltwater vibrations.

 basking in the waves of the only song 

that rings endless past the planets' dance.

THE MIND

"The mind manifests itself by looks and words. For the soul is our dwelling place, our eyes are its windows, and our lips are its messengers."

-Kahlil Gibran, The Eye of the Prophet p. 1923

the long lost...

to which we are 

all constantly 

paying 

the cost, 

forever 

indebted 

to that 

we regret, 

so the 

only way 

to move 

forward 

is to have 

none.

are you there?

slow-motion

rain explosion

magma flying, tree-top spying

where i wondered, what happened to you?

where are you now?

where am i?

unplanned eruptions

from bottled darknesses

will you still love me, Hermes?

after darknesses flow, likeness to light 

the same as the opposite, no, opposing is different

straight from the imagination

whirlwinds circling, ever-spiraling

detached and dictated in solitude,

eloquently absent

severely detached from meanings

visitors make appearances

ever reminding of infinity's challenge

may i recall for next time

a mental note, a song

for me, for you and all the unseen

blue spirits and the never dead 

your little talking machines

piles of dusty books

modulating ghosts

speeding nearer

listen close...

the fractals of branches

infinitely complex