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.