Grey Takes Gold

By fearing what we do not understand
blanking our divine canvas to invite god’s test
when we return from folly to isolation
the substance of our divine tapestry is examined for miracles
and life asks us if we can not only see and touch it but enter into the making of it
we draw our hands through our hair and we find
grey, auburn, orange, gold, black.

The human nature theorem, a paradox of games, begins.
played by God and Goddess a simple game of
Black over orange, grey takes gold

All night the light northern winds
throw mist upon the window and the criss-cross of their
game-board grew and grew to be the complexity of their love.
Because complexity is size, a kingdom of the heart, a criss-cross universe whose herald
A droid or quantum, is small
compared to an exponential unfolding of uncertainty
No detangling tool could measure or permute a game that in lust and love made life
certain

Auburn to black, hairs straight as words
Cupid’s Arrows as tokens, fetishes, fish-silver and aluminum
Hair collected by crows to nest

A home in their underworld
at its nexus of Enigma
the pieces strewn.

Pick them up, here is Gold, a god with his own delusions
There is Black, not evil, no, just misunderstood
Put them on a new criss-cross game board and play
As makers of the mysteries and Gods

by Jon Clark and Andrew Nightingale

“Once I spoke the language of the flowers,


Once I understood each word the caterpillar said,


Once I smiled in secret at the gossip of the starlings,


And shared a conversation with the housefly


                       in my bed.


Once I heard and answered all the questions
of the crickets,


And joined the crying of each falling dying

                       
flake of snow,


Once I spoke the language of the flowers. . . .


                        How did it go?


                        How did it go?”

the fact that the potency of the child fades with age is necessary, If adults had the same potency, it would tear the world apart. The most powerful people on earth are children. They observe better ask more potent questions and feel the grain of every answer, turning it in their heads with a power of thought that is only a shadow by adulthood.

To my brother

you would catch foxfire?
There is something faster than thought
Thought is a kind of fire
We are constantly burning ourselves with thought
Education is an evil we all endure, but it satisfies only a few
A reading habit is good for knowing how to avoid evil
But it satisfies no-one.
Mathematics burns hottest of the thoughts,
But foxfire is not hot, it is not ash or smoke or flame or light
it is something so pure, it has no quality
so pure and so fast
It can run down with you to hell and back without pain
if you can keep up you will leave hell so fast not a hair on your bright tail is singed.

So you want to catch foxfire
Tell the truth just once
Don't carry or bury the lie
Don't pull on the great slave-wheel that keeps our screens alight
Just once, speak what you already know, and then you must run for your life
They will chase you with all they've got
they will try to make you fall
and drag you down to burn for your truth-telling
I will whisper to you the secret of foxfire, and we will be friends.
Speak a word of it somewhere, anywhere
Whisper it to an orange blossom
Sound it inside a cave and let it echo
Scream in from the top of a hill

give it to the nightingale

and her mind-call will inform all good friends of hers,
Run now...
 Run! RUN!
RUN!


RUN!

e mensonge qui n’est plus contredit devient folie – Guy Debord

The lie that is no longer contradicted becomes folly – Guy Debord

  ·   ·

1. Apple and orange are different 2 apple and orange are both fruit. 3 The same is true of every word in every language. Therefore, I have just proven that all language including mathematics is folly

The right of it is in a Chinese Parabolic book called Journey to the West:

Having been a monk for some time now, Monkey had even better
understanding of the meaning of some sutras. In chapter ninety-three of Journey to the
West, Monkey had a conversation with Tripitaka on the interpretation of the Heart Sutra
that the Crow’s Nest Zen master had taught Tripitaka to recite. Monkey, seeing Tripitaka
was worrying again, commented that the master did not learn from the Zen master the
sutra’s proper interpretation. The master challenged Monkey asking if he knew the proper
interpretation. Monkey said emphatically that he did. Then , both fell silent. The two
junior disciples giggled and teased Monkey for what they deemed to be the latter’s
pretentiousness, for, like them, Monkey came with the background of a monster and with
no formal Buddhist training. Hearing them, Tripitaka said to the two very seriously: “Wu-
neng and Wu-ching, stop this claptrap! Wu -kung ‘ s interpretation is made in speechless
language. That’s true interpretation.” (Yu 1983, 295) This comment from Tripitaka
confirms that Monkey as the human mind is endowed with the ability to comprehend truth,

Essays on Monkey: A Classic Chinese Novel
Isabelle Ping-I Mao