the senses delight

(the surface of the world)

pure apprehension
is blindness

you can go to the edge
of particularity

to touch the essence
is to hold no thing

in the great emptiness
of awareness

the desert of pure
light

the agony of possibility

(we are all seafarers)
seeking the great loss

of burden

the physics of this world

the mind

too deep inside

motion

pure and soundless

indeed

the earth the sky
give structure

the heart knows
no place or way
of being

we seek the centre
of everything

every act

we look for it
as if behind the eyes
of another

or seek it as
the principle underlying
any design

in nature

we make ideal pictures
of what appears

and try to account for
this knowing

here is the end point

we cannot
be otherwise

the answer
and the question

just is

what we
do.



(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

in war

the focus is the mistake

the ground is always
undefined

it is an unknown history

(you may have
some reports)

the first task
is to determine

the target

and in so doing
the outcome

the question is always

can you get at the heart?

where there are
fortifications

avoid direct attack

best to infiltrate
as an admirer

of the battlements

do not offer gold

it is the first sign
of deceit

only truth can open
the door

it is the great seducer

the enemy's eyes
always seek beyond

the presentation

you gain advantage
by appearing

to not know
how to conceal

a weakness

the making of the false
objective

is the end game

the origin of attack
needs always to be

unknown
to the victim

the act itself
is irrelevant

victory is a decision

its mark is

silence



(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

the melody / and dance
is logic

the utterness in display

the eternity (mind space)
of a plant (or anything)
that grows

and returns

as if the point
just to reach up
and out

the display / the showing

the vanity of being

in the discreet
movements

of the self-aware

forms

we make out of
dirt and rock

monuments to thought

nothingness
reflected

and the words
and the rivers

flow



(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

awareness

we live always
in context

to think outside of all
practicalities

is to despair
or imagine God

the question of joy
or suffering

a matter of mood
and the subtlety of
chemistry

/ and here even the stars
might say

so

clarity is sharp focus
and being

determined in the moment

here is precision

and the absence
of doubt

the trick is

denial / what to
exclude



(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

in those days
when the years were fenced
quarter acre blocks

and there were no cars
on dirt roads

only the old tree
stood for everything
past

and the beauty of time

in the sandy-haired boy

the light was the light
of the sun

here is the beginning
of awareness

only in knowledge

the question of opposites

the horror / delight
begins

out of need
and reason

a chaos of art



(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007

the picture is always
complete

each moment
fecund

there is a peace
(in the absence
of mind)

emotion
is more than just
action or its
cause

the world painted
invisible

in constant
drama

of depth and reach

(the infinities
of each heart)

unknown to the trees
birds or sky

there is a madness

not seen by stars

or felt in the sea

played out to

nothing

as if the world

transfixed



(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

and so

there is no explanation
of anything

what would it look like?

a sky behind
the sky?

and for what?

we must describe
true

and each picture
drawn

is made to represent

not because it does

but because it must

the activity of being

is its own reason

this the hardest truth

of all



(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007

madness

madness

is every man's choice
(the decision to be

and maintain
against)

it is the history of all detail
and the peculiarity
of each list

sanity a blank slate
a theoretical template

(it is the collapse
into space)

you can protect
yourself

with reason and passion

tools for
the defence

of beauty



(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

the heart is empty

the heart is empty
but for the play of
light or shadow

decisions

to hold darkness

(this the history of
substance)

necessary for
to know the light
and so

the making of forms
each distinguishable

by its blackness

the weight
the depth
the expanse

the degree

(we make ourselves
in terms of the colours
given by other hearts

the white hair of love

and blue eyes of
affirmation

just passing on a street

or the invisible hand
of denial

is no colour

or

an unkindness
you can never
be rid

the taste of

here is definition

(and it is the work of a life

above and under
the sea

blind or clear
sighted)

rest / is chosen

a mathematical calculation

the invention of a
platform

(imaginations
cover for

the great absence)

metaphysics
for a briefness

that moment
you stop thinking

true joy

even so

you come to know

beneath the panorama of

the great and endless
light show

there is no source

just a plane of glass

that holds no

reflection

still



(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

things

the material world
is

for consciousness

a metaphor

of form
and content

shape and substance

in the eyes
of indeterminacy

the acquistion
and possession

of things

is a constant
assertion of

and promise of

the denial of

an inner emptiness

and a lack of
definition



(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

to the members of the next parliament

if you know the truth
tell the truth

if you don't know
the truth

say you don't know

to assume that you can

with rhetoric
or deceit

or straight-out falsification

serve

some higher goal

some greater
good

is simply

to fail
to connect

with reality

all very well

for artists

stage players

and myth makers

fatal

to lawmakers

and representatives

of the people



(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

we move in description

it is always an argument
you make

to yourself

and all others / make
of you

the question of truth
to stone

can never be settled

never known

(it is only the reason
for focus)

in the moving frames / figures
made of soul

line and light

conscious things

burn
bright



(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

the world is true

perception specific

and conception
without ground

or on any ground

we can say

what is excluded

is the full
picture



(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

election day 2007

when emotion
seeks its death

in the appearance
of decision

in a life or the lives
of all who reach

in unfathomable
desperation

on a Saturday
morning

to make a mark




(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

a way of seeing when the world takes or when it is just so

there is a peace

in the order
behind consciousness

or in fact
nothing

that consciousness
can recognize

in itself

the solution
is outside our vision

we can know
that

not what



(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

in these days

in these days

the light is thinner

hearts
are not hidden

(the appearance is true)

there is a loss
of depth

as if it never was

behind things

(and in any case
what is darkness?)

so

we face
just what we face

and this
the real terror
of being

the gods
have left us

to the surface

without account

or a place
for dreaming

old books
hold the history

of the lost art
of searching

the fashion of the day
is all that remains

the sacred

the poetry
of presentation



(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

Islanders

Islanders
have no memory

the myth is present

and on the edge
of deserts

you find disbelief

and the making of
realities

out of the placing
of stone

here the girls are flying

boys make art
with pieces of blue sky

groups of men
and women

have no identity

outside of

the game of
making games

beyond the cities

there are only
fields of grass alive

this is the fringe

holding against

death

is red

the dust storms
of unknown

gods



(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

the flow defies

the flow defies

ground
is a given of
biology

(and never still)

reflected in
the prism

of thought

(the colours
of the world)

awareness

a fact of
the animal

a fact of
the dirt

complexity

is only in
reflection

as simple as

the stars in a lake

or

a lake in the stars




(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

flying

there is no fixture
to the heart

(so the joy and tragedy
of the young)

and thought

time cuts to pieces

as if there is a place
and date

even so

you can step back
with a breath

beyond
the illusion of
particularity

(the world divided
thus)

and watch

at the interface of

reflection
and reflected

there is no definition
no self

only light

the point
at the centre

of the flow



(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

the embrace
is permanent

though
the shadows
walk away

to brightness

only the change
of frame

is left

in the glare
of daylight

the hard fracture

the iron punch stamp
of space / time

repeats
repeats

(mindless)

brutality

is deafening

and so the colours
of the world

and its motion
in planets

wind

eyes

and limb



(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

it is what it is

beyond
word or
sign

the ground
of being

(the ineffable)

every form
of flesh

and blood
dirt and stone

and points
of consciousness

inside

the colours
motions

and depths
of the heart

before
cause and effect

the logic
of demiurge

the simplicity
of eyes

laughing

the utterness
of earth

to the clear vision
of sky

true



(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

and to the anguish
of the dead

still walking

in body suits
by Armani

and the wealth
of nations

at their fingertips

(this is the eternity)

denied to the young

and hidden from
the beautiful

(the only resolution
is to eat dirt

and go insane)

the inexorable

becomes the only
comfort

left for the mind

and the heart beats

like a lost
time piece



(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

from a cottage by the sea Pablo Neruda looks out

it is
the final
act

that determines
the value

of all
that comes
before

the last act

is always

a cutting off

avoid the end
of things

and if you are
to suffer

a killing
of the heart

 know
 thereafter

 you will only
ever see

 white



(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

the end of any act
is no more than

a decision
(silver bright)

to change focus

(for in the absence
of mind

there is but
one event

without distinction)



(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

the mind runs time
like a strict pimp

the realities are all
there

after appearing
the fact is eternal

just beneath
the surface

in the spin-off
worlds

(and without perturbation)

the movement
is inexorable

as complete
and vital

as a symphony

and just as embracing

as if there is
no outside

the idea is full
of reality

(there is only one)

potent / as the external
dimension

you move through
so artlessly

you might think
a sketch to be filled in

(if schooled too long
in Kant)

there is no masterpiece
to be made

it is all just ordinary

pale colourings
worn patterns

safe tracks

and here

the trick of the gods:
no mystery

(pimp and whore
how's that for the big
surprise)

the black beetle
devours everything

and the morning rain
brings to life

the old street

(before you know it)



(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

shop girl

from a leather chair

(motion)

on diamond tiles
reflects

just like the mind

the shadow world
(underground)

in China
it is the same

but upside down

(from where you are)

a dead girl sits
in a shop window

still as alabaster

(in evening wear)

hands on her knees

eternity
will corrupt

and decompose

eventually

we will have nowhere
to go

(at the end of time)

children running
in delight


(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

behind the hard
physic

of face and body

the absence

a desperate sketching
of line

on line / in line

no figure still

no picture true

energy
as
energy

seeking itself

consciousness

the madness of God

inside

the mask

of the world



(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

lives lived

in utterness

brightness
at the heart

of stone

spirits
schooled

in the mythology

of sky



(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007

you move
from the centre

and see the world
thus

others
see you as

a presence

of and in

the surface
of dust


(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

the back room boys

know

there is no
foundation

to idea

of how
to be

and so

they direct
focus to

for and against

a constant
dialectic

they think

avoids
the truth

of defeat



(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

between
the given of now

in all its colour
and shape

and the totality

the blank reference

the end of thought

the spirit
contorts

for equanimity

and so
the anguish
of eyes

and limbs

the accident of joy

the quiet terror
of continuance

(the impossibility
of knowing)



(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

the elegant stance

is no position

the point
of no perspective

it is the grace
and dignity

of nature
without man

or the street
sculpture

without meaning



(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

spiritual strength

against the vicissitudes
of life

is not a question
of reserve

there is no defence
to ordinary horror

at beat we can seek
a perspective

that takes
the evil act

or an unwelcome act
of nature

from the centre
of focus

and places it

within an eternity
of unaccountable events

there is no consolation
to be found

in the totality

only and end
to the question

why?



(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

Afghanistan

is a space

that cannot be
conquered

it's people

strong and gentle

defy
intrusion

it is a place

of

ancient culture
 ancient stone

it is the graveyard

 of history's fools




 (c) greg. t. charlton. 2007

the one-legged Brahman

is without abode
or foundation

the true position
is no position

or any position

what you think
what you sense

what you feel

any point
becomes the point

becomes
the way of seeing

therefore

the world

is without
foundation

and space

the ground
of possibility

atman


(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

9/11

during the attack
he sat

in a school room

an aide
came and told him

mr. president

the country is under attack

he sat

why no response

no movement
no act?

perhaps
he knew

before the fact?



(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

the word is

you can't occupy

a country
a heart
a space

there is no fixture

only simultaneity

and this really

a question of
perspective

an ideal positing
of place

a pretty idea

necessary
and false

the days should
be tempered

with whiskey

the nights
with prayer

words
are the game

we are trapped in

laughter
the only escape

suffering
pins us

to the ground

protect
the senses

discipline
the heart

there is only one
direction



(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

meta survey

the surface is hard
ground / light

inside / (beneath)

the world is mind

the knowing
cannot be seen / touched

there is no geography

only
rest or motion

the body

reflected


(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

road song

worlds
shut down

but you keep going

on the meta highway

there is no stopping

this space here
is always true

and time
a translucent shadow

disappearing back
to nothing

you have no idea of

the reason for

towns passing by

the landscape

pictures
painted on
pictures

a perfect cover for

the eternal heart


(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

the secret art

when mortality
descends

like
a clear-eyed day

say yea

and be as still

as a peerless lake

or if the fact

a chill
to the spirit

a crippling
of the heart

seek
the timeless

in thought
and sense

immersion
in the moment

is

the secret art


(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

delight

is/
the street of
angels

hearts flying
to eyes

eyes to stone
eyes to sky

night falls
black

and we are
skeletons

bright


(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

Molly the cat chases birds
I write philosophy

x = x


(c) greg.t. charlton. 2007.

the point of history is

the point of history is

the recollection of
possible worlds

(how you configured
the sun

and the moon
in phases)

the constructions
of thinking

that made for strength
and joy

(days of delight)

know

you are beyond
the facts

are a panorama
of colours fading

nothing into nothing

(and for no reason)

the centre
eternal

time and space
endless descriptions

of

matter and mind

textures
covers for

the great absence

(is beauty)



(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

he said
to the young bloke

it's a dangerous way
to be

to throw off
the material world

possessions
and things

the physical world

holds you together

your spirit
cannot be compromised

by your body

your mind
is just

its idea

do not deny
or separate out

embrace

your essence
is the unity

of all

things


(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

demolition
and

reconstruction

is the logic

of God

trapped in

mindless
repetition


(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

manifest

so

the space
of consciousness

is the world
in awareness

( )

the idea
of the outside

is hard
to the touch

a spectrum
of colour

the anarchy
(a beautiful)

of sound

and scent

another mathematics
of desire

mind
touches only
mind

and this a secret

hidden
in eyes

a plane of being
(delight)

above the games
of knowledge

the action of daylight

the diversion
of science

necessary
to safeguard

the sacred

clarity
defying language

before
all vanity

the world is open

) (

I am mad


(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

mindtraps

just straight up
you and the world

it's not like you
are loved

the lake is crystal
and cold

to the heart

a beauty of wilderness

or

you are fighting
your way out
of

a nightmare
there is no end
to the corridors and the dog
knows

each turn

there are indeed
questions of safety

and nourishment

no greater than
the way of insects

and birds of flight

no threat
at all from the inside

(never forget this)

and others come

with their stories

of what is behind the hill and behind the sky

what is behind

your eyes

worlds come into
existence

when the stranger
appears

the imposture of notions

is the real business of the money
changers

the facade of armies

is the secret work of all
cartoonists

and you are educated

to know
the real horror is

that you do not

know

(couldn't be neater

the real hard slog
pays off

the magicians
of the world bank

mandarins

in that lobby in Geneva

smiles
tea and devastation

all around)

so the great rush to belief
like it's always Saturday night

'you must believe in something
of course'

the art of enslavement

is a simple argument
based on ignorance

you really don't need
the whole box

and dice

everything follows

QED

and so
marked with the pox

we cleanse
in battle

and degredation

as if to
prove


(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.