Tag Archives: God

What Will You Do?

What will you do, God, when I die?

I,
the jar of fire-flies waving through the dark, ( if cracked, will I lie?)

Your secretive well-spring (if removed will the well go dry?)
The craft, the vesture that am I,
To lose all meaning, loosening me from your grasp.

When it is that I go, your cold house will be
Empty of language that made it sweet.
I, the sandals, your bare feet
Will seek and long for passage.

Your cloak shall fall from weary bones.
Your glance, my warmth has awakened
will depart.
What wonder will be removed from the mask
and a sun that disappears,
lies now in the lap of unknown stones.

What will you do, God?

-Joshua Fleming (remixing a translation of Rainer Maria Rilke)

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Para-Flux-Dox-Uations

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What if all things are in flux, in-between paradox and reason, in-between life and death, you and I, darkness and light, that and this, this and that, self and other. What if God is a dream and you are the dreamer, what if Jesus never really died, what if he was just a story, what if Buddha always lied, or never spoke at all, what if buddha was not a saint, nor a prince, but just someone going on unnoticed by the crowds, the ones that we will never read about. What if you said yes, before saying said no. What if those headlights didn’t blind her sight, didn’t cause her to go off course, what if she is still right here with us, what if the universe or universes, has still not yet exploded into being, flowing backwards towards that beginning, two-mirrors two-reflections starring back towards the beginning, and back towards that end, what if the cycles, the stories are all bending, twisting and spiraling round a great gyre, a golden Möbius strip of infinite possibilities. What if the stories of old hold the revelations of tomorrow and the stories of tomorrow hold the truths of yesterday. The seeds are the tree and tree is out walking. What if that day you walked away, some part of you stayed, does it really matter what we try and define, what we try and hold true, or does it matter more than anything, does everything depend upon it, are you the pivot, the fulcrum, everything holding purpose in its place, will it all unravel, becoming known and unknown at the same time, burning and blurring two flickering candles at both ends, burning from their ends towards their beginnings and their beginnings towards their ends, should we run in fear towards that great darkness, that great forgetting, or should we walk, stepping slowly with patience and dignity, with courage and love in our hearts, as witness’s of a story being told, being sold through our perceptions and our actions, being dreamt and being the dreamer. Let us sleep ever so deeply and let us dream ever so boldly, let us wake in our slumbers, and let us wake in our dreaming. Let us forget to remember and let us remember to forget, let us always remember that we never forgot, let us never forget that always have remembered. All things are in flux, in-between language and logic is another world spinning, in-between that world is language and logic holding a conversation. Science and Spirit tearing flesh from bone, Spirit and Science tending to each others gardens. Let us move beyond, moving forward by moving backwards and let us move backwards by moving forward. The Great Trickster is not a fool, Chaos does not wish to steer us off course. Only hoping that we will find it, these paths for ourselves, and rise to the stern of our great ship, the ghost returning to its shell, the captain to its helm, that is your story, our stories, all waiting to be heard, expressed and experienced. Something is feeding back into that Great Serpent swallowing its every beginning and its every ending, each seeds for the other, shedding its skin, to wear a coat of arms of the ancestors and of what is still to come.

Parafluxdoxuation is a prescription to be used only as a topical ointment, its salubrius qualities are of the highest order, it is to be applied when only absolutely necessary and it is never to be confused for a steady diet or meal replacement plan meaning applying it obsessively to all areas of contrast and confusion in ones life. It has highly addictive qualities that may lead to never making a fucking decision ever again. On a few distinct occasions it has been documented in clinical trials that one may dissolve in subatomic transubstantiation, evaporating into the ether upon a complete axis reversal of electron spin resonance, where in we must then re-quantum-locate your approximate momentum and position in space-time using previous technologies from the quantum leap series coupled with a rubik’s cube written with nordic runes and then reallocate some constitution of semblance of  you that may or may not be of the same quality or form as before. Side-effects may include synesthesia, chromatic aberration, quantum disassembling and reassembling of parts at random intervals, i.e, like having a cactus for an appendage, or the arm that you had in 3rd grade, in a few cases the male penis or female vagina may have become their own animate entities, where in they would not engage in sexual relations unless they the animate penis and or vagina where given the stage to recite romantic poetry, mostly sufi and greek poems pre- intercourse. Given the above possible side-effects please consult your local physician, physicist and or shaman before applying.

Parafluxdoxuation also acts as an anti-itch cream for the hemorrhoids of existence, to relieve the occasional surface tensions of reality, lubricating the annals of history and your place within its folds. 

-Joshua Fleming

Image by: He Xun, Empty Baggage, 2013

http://www.theworldofchinese.com/2016/03/painting-the-paradox/

 

Conversations

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To take “the winged energy of delight”, to bring it down, from the heavens, to drag its perfection, its clarity, in and through the muddy bog. What it thought it once new, what it wants to remember. Mother Amnesia comes and buries it well in the dark soil, to allow it to seed in its depths, to collapse its light under its own shadow. To root itself in dank forests or branch upward through the slender cracks of concrete in some dirty sulfuric city street, wondering how the fuck it found itself here, shackled in some ghetto wasteland. Somebody else’s war. Somebody else’s disease ridden trough. As bones chew against the wall, as the flesh weakens in doubt, forgetting its appearance. The tumor says that there is not much time, growth is in its final decent. Empires still rolling-roman bones, a wilted dandelion starves to taste the air, as the morning dew still returns, to wash the unclean, settling ever so gently on all things. So if our wings be clipped, if they still be dripping with that thick blood, brutally amputated with the dull rusty blade of indifference, deformed gnarled stumps, where once great mountains grew forth, 10,000 fiery feathers burned inflamed in knowing a presence that cannot be defined or defiled. So, if you find yourself drunk and stumbling within your own chaos, some horrible haunt that wrecks your dreams, look up and look down. As you grew out through the cracks in the skye, the cracks beneath these burial grounds. You arrived to learn, of things that only such a life could teach you. Arriving to restore, some place amongst your ancestors. To cultivate, from where ever they began. To grow out from that centre, to strive, to move towards that conversation waiting to be had. Where once stood a wilted petal, stepped upon and torn, blown out and drifting over desolate places. Until that seed was caught, by your hand and instructed not to fear, instructed to release its grasp on such thing it cannot control, instructed to refashion itself from this seed, to shape itself within this form, to grow within this frame, to know its boundaries and its reason, to work within the patterns, is where you’ll find yourself, yet always keep an ear towards the sea-wall.

“Just as the winged energy of delight
carried you over many chasms early on,
now raise the daringly imagined arch
holding up the astounding bridges.

Miracle doesn’t lie only in the amazing
living through and defeat of danger;
miracles become miracles in the clear
achievement that is earned.

To work with things is not hubris
when building the association beyond words;
denser and denser the pattern becomes––
being carried along is not enough.

Take your well-disciplined strengths
and stretch them between two
opposing poles. Because inside human beings
is where God learns.”

-Josh Fleming

Muzot, Febuary 1924

Rainer Maria Rilke, translation by Robert Bly

Image by: Robert Gutierrez

Its All About Perspective

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“Buddha never claimed or denied the existence of God. He just refused to teach about it because he knew the petty mind of people would only focus on God rather then on the main teachings of the Universe.

His way was the practical way. Once you achieve Buddhahood you will find out if there is a God or not. There is no use in telling people as only they themselves have to experience it.”

– TSQ Del

Image by: Lukas Furlan

https://www.behance.net/gallery/28482243/french-alps

God Is A Word For Children

Middle Ground   2009   acrylic on canvas   48“ x 64”

“God is a word for children.

For the few who grow up, it is deep, private and wordless, and has nothing to do with the schoolyard chatter of conflicting religions. Yet, paradoxically, it is the very young and the very old who know this best.

It is quite possible to practice the ‘awareness of the presence of God’. Those who do come to realize that religions too belong largely to words and concepts, where God is not to be found.

Anyone who tells you they know WHO god IS are to be mistrusted.

Remember it’s early in history, it’s only 2009, and we’re all still primitive little savages, oblivious to the effulgence of our own existence.

It is revealing that ‘God’ is also the most extensively used expletive in the multiple languages of our world. It springs unbidden from our deepest hearts, when we’re not ‘thinking’.

Thought is the enemy of ‘the awareness of the presence of god.’

Knowing is different from thinking, or hoping or having ‘faith’ in. It’s been remarked that ‘Belief, surely, in the absence of certainty, is close to lunacy’. The world is full of lunatics.

Not enough of us have practiced, or even considered, the ‘a.o.t.p.o.g’ to have an opinion on the matter. Those who have know the futility, the pointlessness — indeed the catastrophic dangers — of declaring an opinion on the matter. There are religious sects in Asia that maintain it is a blasphemy to even mention the word, because to do so is to confine its meaning such that one obviously hasn’t a clue as to what it means. In the Knowledge of the Presence of God there is power beyond words… so why not just shut up and get on with it for God’s sake.”

– Lawrence Blair, Ph.D.

http://www.amazon.com/Lawrence-Blair/e/B000APHP1W

Image by: Christopher Mir

http://www.christophermir.com