Being God,  I knew everything. 1967


Every book is a one sided conversation with a bigot


Such a man.
He smells.
His clothes are stained.
He grabs up scraps to use.
What he discards is exhausted.
He walks so often.
He saves the earth.



  The worker pays so many hours of life for so few moments of pleasure that he is without blame for protecting the money that buys it. 
But in hating the loafer who manages continuing pleasure without magnitudes of slavery he forgets where his chin begins.


 A slave does something because he must.
A free man may do the same thing because it’s right.


 You can be hurt by the truth,
but it is the most practical way to deal.


 Its sorrows me to see angels sweeping their trash but never discarding it.
The burden under the bed is too much.
Tell them what they do or morn.
Either ends my suffrage.


Life is depressing.
You can bear it as a cross, wear it as a badge of courage or accepted it as life.
This is a beginning toward a cherishment of life, a passion for love outside yourself.
Cherish the management, love God.
When I let go of myself I lose badges and crosses and find love.


Maybe humanity was born when two Gods agreed to be enemies so that man might have a choice.


“Wake up you bitch, it’s time to put the world together.”
So we got up and got to it.
Even God’s do no better or worse than what they do.


By glorifying God, man glorifies himself.
By finding God infinite man makes himself infinite.
God is that simple, finite, existent one in which man is of no more or less importance then God or any view.


Have a bit less than all you can get.
Leave something for the gods.


It is not only possible to be perfect, it is downright rewarding.


         Every, snow flake is unique for it is different from every other snowflake.
 Every snowflake is common for it is a snowflake like every other snowflake.
Every snowflake is a perfect snowflake.
The snowflake is not an imperfect snowball; rather it is not a snowball at all.
         Each person is a perfect person.
 Each is unique and common.
 Only when we consider ourselves other than what we are, are we imperfect.
We are people rather than imperfect images of God.


Peace is not something you escape to;
it is something you enjoy.
Peace can be obtained by blanking the mind so that each thought is not rushed into being.


       To live life as virtue is to do nothing, neither concur nor destroy but to continue.
I am the sitting man who dreams.
 I enjoyed bliss by living in the universe without harm or harming, living in the universe of my mind without destroying it with my body.
         Into the heart of my mind comes a spirit of love sometimes to engulf myself,
then God, the universe, sneaks back into my mind and I glow with the warm memory of the cost of peace.
The living dead salute you.


 The thought of being the universe has calmed me when I wished to touch at death by enjoying peace.
Short dips are nice but death is permanent.


 Each line I write rewards me.
Each step of each task I do rewards me.
I am learning that peace is a concept of a conspiracy.
It is a conspiracy but in the conspiracy the only question is of the conspirators and they seem sound enough.


 Every complete thought is a selective description of the universe.
As it is selected it is of man’s life and less at one.
Yet it is more becoming by its new understanding born of the human view of the universe.
Man is a process maker.


Out of the depth of sadness comes peace.
Out of the depth of peace comes gentleness.
Out of the depth of gentleness comes contentment.
Out of the depth of contentment comes love.
Out of the depth of love comes dependence.
Out of the depth of dependence comes want.
Out of the depth of what comes desire.
Out of the depth of desire comes joy.
Out of the depth of joy comes sadness.


Do not measure eternity in lifetimes but in passing.


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