The Fruits and Profits of Life

Kicking and screaming
I was dragged into this world;
naked, toothless and bald.

And when this shadow world
drags me, kicking and screaming,
through the carnival of life…

I contemplate in the mirror
the fruits and profits of a life:

the naked smile
the balding mind
the raw nerve of a true heart.

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Lost Days

The thunder and clouds brought a herald of paradise. They penetrated the veil of night and arrived playing with the dawn. Behind stayed the oppressive heat of the last days. They stay almost in the oblivion while the sky plays with lights and stentor, teases with rain, and caresses my body with fresh breezes of lost days.

Could these be the lost days, the ones I didn’t live, the days of exile? Could this be why these lightnings smell like remembered oblivion? Could this be why this rain comes without being here, and wets the earth without falling? Could it be why this day I live without being here, remembering what I never lived, and I hug you welcomed in the absence that never was and in the void that fills me in plenitude?

Dias Perdidos

El trueno y las nubes trajeron un aviso de paraíso. Atravesaron el velo de la noche y llegaron jugando con el alba. Atrás quedó el calor opresivo de los últimos días. Se quedan casi en el olvido mientras el cielo juega con luces y estruendos, coquetea con llover, y acaricia mi cuerpo con brisas frescas de días perdidos.

¿Acaso serán estos los días perdidos, los que no viví, los del exilio? ¿Será por por esto que estos relámpagos huelen a olvido recordado? ¿Será por esto que esta lluvia viene sin estar, y humedece la tierra sin caer? ¿Será por eso que en este día vivo sin estar aquí, recuerdo lo que no viví, y te abrazo bienvenido en la ausencia que nunca fue y en el vacío que me llena a plenitud?

The Four Pillars

These are the Four Pillars of Ego:

In the light of day,
ego casts a long shadow
that grows into night.

Such is my ego,
standing up to greet the light
of the Morning Star.

Faithful companion,
will serve until the last breath
for love’s sake alone..

Despised pestilence,
condemned by all holy writ,
guarding the most high.

(Herein is the secret for controlling the Four Princes of Evil under the sacred authority of your Holy Guardian Angel)

These Were the Times

These were the times of heresy and discovery.

These were the days Ivan (first from the right) introduced me to a Rosicrucian Order, and challenged my faith and dogma.

These were the days our maid took me to gnostic masses and challenged me to see my privilege.

These were the days of attempting to extract nutrient from flowers to feed the hungry, of seeing specters appear and glide, of exploring abandoned scientific instruments in a University closed by the army.

These were the days before the girlfriends and the bullets, before the depression and suicidal thoughts. These were the days before the hanging by my ankles over a four story building to make me panic. These were the days before the finding of my true strength.

These were my Zacamil days, when that funny looking boy, second from the right, saw the world open up and the storm of time showed him infinity and the eternal power of not being.

Was I ever truly him? How did he know to survive by becoming me?

Do Not Waste Time

Here is the third and last commandment left by Ce Acatl Topilttzin Quetzalcoatl to his four high priests:

“Do not waste the time given to you by Ometeotl, the divine dual-trinity, on this world. Labor day and night towards the good without wasting time, for you shall not know if you will live again, if you shall know your true visage there in the world of true existence. Take prudent advantage of your lifetime.”

We Toltecas learn to use death as an advisor. This doesn’t mean we brood over the certainty of death, nor that we adopt metaphysical views about it. We simply use the certainty of the end of all things, including the end of this dream of life, to help us know that this moment is of extreme importance.

More in Tolteca 3:

http://amzn.com/B010NUJH1Y

This Impulse to Know

My mother ocean, maybe she’s hoping one day to have swelled so much that one tip of her womb would breach the infinite ocean above and become one.

One with what? It does not know. It only knows that one day long, long ago it must have come down from that big, big, big heaven. One day it, the ocean, was only a drop that came down from that roaring, infinite vastness of which the sun and the moon are just two tiny creatures that play with her, that penetrate and pull her, making her give birth over and over again.

One day––and this is for sure to happen one day––she will also die and become one once again with the oceans whence she came. Then she will forget herself as the waters above swallow her whole, and her consciousness and vision become stretched way beyond her capacity to know, to think, to remember, and to be.

And so, every star, and every galaxy, and every God one day too will dissolve into the vast, vast ocean-void whence they came.

That part I know. That part I remember.

What I don’t know and cannot know is why that vast ocean of mother Binah swells once again and sets me forth into this harsh and vast light. Why again am I down here where I forget, where all I know is to yearn, and to love, and to desire?

Not even having the memory of what it was, I only have the pain of the yearning; and out of my soul, the depth of my being that has no name, no memory, no ego, nothing… but out of the depth of this pain, the memory of my origin pulls me, and the presence of God penetrates me day and night. In thought and in silence it pulls me. And out of me comes, now as a thought, then as a whisper, this little impulse to go back.

Go back… Go back… This impulse… This thing in my heart of hearts that wants to swell up, flutter up, and become and know what is there outside myself.

Can Your World Survive the Times to Come?

What planet can survive the core of a star?

Imagine a planet made of solid brass or lead, heavy and strong, in it’s immovable orbit towards the sun. At first, before it enters the limits of Pluto, this planet will be cold, frozen, heavy, strong. It would be the hardest thing that you would ever see.

As it begins to come closer to the Sun, it begins to reflect the light of the Sun shining bright as if it were made of gold––but it’s not. It is just solid metal, still cold, but as it gets closer and closer by the time it passes Venus and Mercury it begins to heat up. It is still solid, but hot.

There will be a moment when one side is hot and one side is cold, and then there will be another moment when all of it is lit with heat. And then, that planet that was once so solid, as it enters the threshold of the sphere of the Sun, it begins to liquify. What was once solid is now liquid, and then it becomes gaseous, and then it’s completely gone.

Now there is no more planet. It’s just the sun, exactly as it was before.

So it is with the birth of this new consciousness that the human being is trying to birth. All the old worlds are melting away. They’re all gone. And if your identity and your sense of safety is placed on any old world, it will melt. Only by aligning your awareness to the awareness of the New Sun can you forge a new identity; only then can you forge the type of consciousness that can carry such an awareness, and you become a little bit like that Sun dying and birthing at the same time––not in the Christian sense where you die to the world to be reborn later. It’s more like the star who is, or like a flame who at the same time that it is alive and illuminated, it is also consuming itself.

That is what the Sun is doing. It is consuming itself, and giving itself to all around. Align your consciousness to the reality of the New Sun and then you will be as a reflection of this New Sun: evernew, everdying and of irrevocable intent.