Nonduality Salon (/ \)

Magnetic Blood

Carlos Dwa

These writings are reproduced with permission of the author. This edited version Copyright 1998 by Carlos Dwa. All rights reserved. No portion of this text may be copied without expressed permission of the copyright owner.


In the Hearth: Shemash, Salock in the Heart | The Ubertyrant and the Net


How the dancers lept
from the earth.
How they had contrived
by their art and dedication
to for but a moment
fly.
Because it was in their minds
to grasp the shining thing.
If but for a moment.

How the lovers kindeled
the unseen fire.
how they conceived
the thing most precious
and insubstantial.
More enduring than the nations,
this thing
in their hearts
would stand
when heaven and earth
had passed away.
Their momentary taste
of eternal being
-because it was within them.

The conflagation of their souls,
the harmony of their hormones,
the music of the spheres,
but a reflection
of their neural chorus.
The bright and shining thing
that singes it's conciever
with a desire that aspires
to the realm of living flame.

(c) 1999 Carlos Dwa


DIVIDE AND CONQUER

How readily we secede from our primary passion
to make the means to our ends our end.

There are no means.
The means is a fuse to light
with the heat of your conscious intent
-your conscious discernment.
To be burned away.

This false trail
-an inheritance of desolation.

The separation,
the triplistic deception,
the safety,
of the search.

How alluring the delusion
of long ago far away.
How securing the conclusion
that the answer is out there.

The molten vibrance is nowhere to be found.
Your dreams erupt
impotent in their context.

You long for a meaning
that quakes within your bones,
slipping the plates of the zeitgeist
that float upon the enigma
of your being.

Though cloaked in celestial magnificence
you note only the poverty
obvious in your reflection.
You are restricted by the frame
of this magic reversing mirror.

Divide and conquer,
etched upon it's quicksilvered whorl.


(c) 1998 Carlos Dwa


DIVIDE AND CONQUER pt 2

The Doctrine of Original Sin

The Law of Karma

Condemnation of ego

False personality

False self

The mask

etc. etc. etc. etc. etc.

You are forever bound to that which you condemn in yourself.
Set against yourself, you are futility.
You have a hobby that will last a lifetime
and never lead beyond itself.


(c) 1998 Carlos Dwa


This Thing of unknown fleshly ways.

This succulent juicy thing.

The steamy sultry quicksilver
rushing -delight most physical.

This rotting and arising.

This unspeakable seduction upon my lips.

I rise through the conflagration
of my own form
crystalline and amorphous,
transcendent, of the
unending futility.

My mirrors have all portals become.

Stepping through yourself
to where you cannot follow,

your existence is unfurled.


(c) 1998 Carlos Dwa


The human thought it was
the end of the world.
But it was their awakening.

Another thought it was celestial supremacy,
but it was mearly an organic pathology
that was centered in
their solar plexus
and which quite automatically
denied the significance
and grandeur of
the experiencings of others.

A third waited and waited
for the proper moment,
but there never was a moment,
and the flow was so unruly
in the precocious charisma of it's genius.

Another saw no possibilities
and so believed there were none.

But his sister who lived over the hill
was by possibilities
overwhelmed.
Her being was penetrated by her being
each eve,
-ravished she,
by the cosmos incognito.

But before she fell asleep,
she gave him tea and crumpets,
then send him off upon his way
like some fickle strumpet.

She loved him
but felt put upon
to find him there at dawn.
When with coddled toes,
from her repose,
she arose
for her
arising.

1998, Carlos Dwa


Time does flow forth from nonbeing
to pierce the realm of the perceived-perceived,
separated and bound thus they are.

The cause of duality is the direction to unity.

The nature of consciousness is the
native nature of being,
in it's loving undulation
-brimming and burning with creative fires
-that dynamic stasis.

When will you do the necessary unnecessary?

You were not born of your own desire,
but it has been lent to you.
All your acts have been of this.
Thus no blame -no acclaim.

Be at peace and know
the bliss of existence,
the love of consciousness.


(c) 1998 Carlos Dwa


Your intentional conscious evolution
will help heal humanity.



The clouds wander by
in skies of clarity,
Themselves befuddled by the
overcast nature of existence.

Beyond thought is no thought
and beyond no thought,
the enriched welling up.

Beyond time is no time,
and beyond no time is
timelessness, which is
time eternal.

Beyond the me is the I,
and beyond the I,
that patient abiding
which grows in wisdom and
dimension-whether known
or unknown.

No formula or technique
will bring you to this.
You are already this,
which realization cannot be
plotted or devised by that
which seeks it's wholeness.

(c) 1998 Carlos Dwa


God -a word derived from an Indo-Aryian
word that originally meant "To call out"
A word -or if truth be know -sound, that was first
heard when a giant boulder rolled onto the left
foot of one of those wily but in this case unfortunate
protoeuropods - affectionately referred to as Longheads
by their contemporary incurring nomadic hordes who
had themselves been spewed from the Mongolian steppe
by the latest drought and where trying their hand at
being testy and plundering. Actually there wasn't
a hell of a lot to plunder -though there where still plenty
of woolly mammoths to be had -for anyone who wasn't afraid to work.
-As I was saying this Indo-Aryian word that eventually
became the word God and which originally meant to cry out
was as I said first uttered by this unfortunate Aryan when
a huge boulder rolled onto his foot and stopped there.
On this occasion he quite robustly and with little hesitation
was heard to scream -GAhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
A seminal pronouncement which would undergo many
alterations and mutations and eventually become the now
famous "God".
Interestingly enough -in one of those coincidences that are
so aesthetically symmetrical that it seems
more the contrivance of fanciful fiction than fact-
it was just this same boulder that was the rock
that God created that was so big that he couldn't lift it
(Just to prove that he could -by the way.)
He thought that Siberia would be a safe place -who was to know?
And now look where it's all led.



(c) 1995 Carlos Dwa


The Creative Silence
longs for expression
but disdains it's form
when manifest.

This longing is the love of existence.

Formulation must lead to misunderstanding.

Only with diligence and much luck
can such brittle fragments
indicate the soft and
flowing source.

Lay these forms aside.
Lay that which lays aside aside.
Abide of consciousness
not abode of ideation.

Forget my words
but catch my drift.

(c) 1998 Carlos Dwa


In the end -you must know what you are doing.
Yet you cannot know it as you know a formula or technique.
It cannot be a method or a ceremony.
Yet it must be biologically sacred.

It must be the enactment of your highest internal aspiration
without formulation by the mind.
It must be an enhancement,
an extension of awareness
of the transcendent medium,
a luminous flow of consciousness
into the vector of bliss.

When this movement is apparent
it is a natural thing.
It is a thing that is a mystery,
yet the potential within
knows what to do.
You must enjoyin it.
Enjoin it with all the purity of
passion for the highest good for all.

So receive the kiss
from the living beyond,
and unfold in time apparent
-into time sublime.

Realize once more
the heart of innocence
and let that which you find
unseemly in yourself
blow away in that gracious breeze
that flows forth from eternity.

No larva can know it's goal
no seed it's flower,
no aspirant the form and nature
of that for which they long.


(C) 1998 Carlos Dwa


Self-awareness is the awareness
of the fact via immediate intrinsic
perception that one is aware
that they are aware.

But this - without love
is a hollow achievement.
With the guidance of love
it is ecstasy.

Even this sublime state
may then be put aside
in abeyance to what
shines forth.

1998 Carlos Dwa


I seize upon the resplendent kiss
of my perfect lover,
clacking of scales and seething
of undulonious
cosmically ordained secretions.

Symphonies of hormonious genius
imbedded in the quanta of her flesh
-of ancient and forgotten address.

I burst forth at her touch,
a fount of burning runes
and implicit song.

The stars within coalesce
into constellations
whose apprehension -dripping of mythos
-dose remain just beyond
the mind's grasp.

-of potency -inviolate
I end not.
I fall away.
I breath the undisclosed lightning.


(c) 1998 Carlos Dwa


This is a song of not.

A silent voice pours forth it's tells.

It tells of some otherly place
where no Hindu god or Bodhisattva
has tread.

No mystic Christian,
no Sufi lover, has feasted there.

This is a song of not and no one,
of the greater unknown.
Where no trace is found
or left.

Where the bubbles of even
the most eccentric scientific
abstraction have never blown
or burst.

Whose approach vector no minds
can suspect
nor soul intimate.

This is a song of not
and no one,
whose potency is unsuspected.

The vastness to which no
path does lead,
no map give direction.

Of which all knowledge is rumor,
and all rumor is
disinformation.

This is where your existence
unfolds,
and you know it not.


(c)1998 Carlos Dwa


I'll tell you a secret -since I'm up late and
irradiated.
I don't think "God" has any characteristics.
-but if he did -I think he would be like a small
piece of protoplasm lost on a rogue asteroid
that is hurtling uncontrolably through the
void.
And it's clinging tenatiously to life -because
it is all it has.
And your lives are the claws that it grasps
with.

It is the Least powerful of things. Almost
nonexistant -totally ignored and overlooked
-worshipped by no one.

I think maybe he is a barefoot old aborigine
-an old man wandering through the desert
-and he really has no power over anything.

But when the universe comes to an end
and all has ceased to exist -somehow
-inexplicably -he is able to look off
into the missing sky and ...with an innocent
smile and a lilting voice he can say a word
and the whole creation thing starts up
again.

Actually quite a charming old bugger
-been known to sit around mumbling
semi coherently to himself for eons
at a time.

It's been rumored that those who
are particulialy critical of him are
at some point forced to take his place.

In fact some say (and I really shouldn't
tell you this), some say, that's how he
got the position in the first place.

So bone up bucky -'cause I hear
that at times omnisience is quite
claustrophobic.
Like living in
a very small cell with a very bright
bare lightbulb.

(c)1998 Carlos Dwa


So the mind salesman said
"The thing you're gonna love most about
having a mind is that they're selfbasting."


-Still...I thought-Do I really want that kind of commitment?
I mean-I can just barely deal with a owning a cat -and cars...
I always hated cars-and buses-and all that stuff.

But he salesman persisted.
He said "And they can run on just any old garbage you come across,"

"Really," I responded absently -not really knowing why or even caring
(Those were the good old days.)

"Really" he said - well ah , it does help to have an interest
in what you -er feed it."

"An interest?" I asked

"Yes an interest - an opinion for or against -a feeling about the subject."

"Why would I want one of those?" I asked.

"Well that's what you're getting a mind for." responded he
with a somewhat gleeful flourish - and not without,
I might add in retrospect, a certain air of tri-humph.

At anyrate -before I knew it, he had the damn thing
wrapped and I was out the door.

I returned to his shop a week later - having certain complaints,
but it seemed he had gone out of business or moved or something.

There were some workmen there remodeling for the next tenant.

They pointed out a small box to me
when I started to air some of my complaints to them
(and this is one of my main complaints about this mind thing
-so many damn complaints).

So they pointed out this small box that they said the mind
salesman had left when he moved last night.

And indeed it even had a slit in the top and
a little card on top with the word "complaints"
drawn in a frilly script in pumpkin crayola.

I know this because this same crayola was attached
to the box by a string and duct tape.

It said pumpkin.

There was even a small stack
of blank complaint cards next to the box.

But I noticed that the box had no bottom.

(c) 1998 Carlos Dwa


The plush skies assaulted me
with their terrible beauty
-bludgeoned me with the sumptuous
vault of their song
of vacuous joy
-crescendos of uncontained
fiery containment -punctuated
by densities unknown
and hidden underpinnings -untroubled
by human conception.
They heave and throb,
just beneath,
just beyond.

We gather our concepts
and thoughts like a shawl.
We cover our heads with
our sleepy habits,
to protect us from the
perception of this primal
living vastness.

To keep us from the arising
of a sympathetic vibration
of the primal
within
with the primal
without.

Molten and ungraspable
flows the magnetic blood.
Ever avoiding the perception
of itself
and naturally drawn to it's own opposite
-words.

Words that tediously stride the boundary
between life and nonlife
-animated only by the blood.
They are like puppets that profess
the knowledge of their workings,
but know nothing of hands
and puppeteers.


(c) 1998 Carlos Dwa



The sickness can be reduced to this...
to assume the role of resistance to anything.
(I hope you realize I am not talking about external resistance
such as preventing child abuse.)

When one becomes this current
it flows from the source of all sickness.

Critical resistance is automatic.
It does not matter whether or
not a phenomena or idea is
deserving of resistance.
If it is, it will be resisted.

What matters is that >you< do not
become the conduit for this flow.
The closest you can come
to disapproval and not do a disservice
to your main interest, is to be
without comment.

It will not harm you to be without
comment -to exercise
active detachment.

Of course if conscious evolution
is not your aim, then resist -don't resist
it doesn't matter.

This is not a theory.
You can easily see it for yourself -directly.
Conscious bliss is physical, as is everything
it is a result of a specific functioning
of your hormones, neuropeptides, and
certain other components of your makeup
which have no exact scientific labels as of yet.

Nobody can maintain this extended consciousness
and entertain a flow of "hostility" simultaneously
unless you mistake an adrenaline rush for bliss.
There is nothing personnel about it.
You cannot inhale and exhale at the same time
You cannot drive a car backwards and forwards
at the same time.

I repeat -It is not a matter of whether or not a person
or phenomena is "deserving" of criticism.
It is a matter of whether or not >you< realize
that as regards your present possibilities of
conscious evolution that to entertain this
energy flow amounts to selfmutilation -whether
public or private.

1998 Carlos Dwa


How many philosophers are lost?
How many mystics unknown?
How many geniuses undiscovered
-uncherished?
What of the undisciplined
avatars who have made nothing of their lives
but the miraculous?
How many starry eyes taken for crazed?
How many God transfixed for insane?

Who will visit the graveyard
of the lost saviors?
Who will eulogize the
unheralded masters
and treasure their legacies
and hold these works and labors
for an undeserving humanity
to their breasts
and weep -that the opportunity
to cherish them has passed?

The most succulent fruits
of the loins of earth
lain' a' molder.

1998 Carlos Dwa


Learn how to synthesize mysticism using common
household hormones and neuropeptides.

Learn how to become a mythical being.

Learn to regard the present with nostalgia and look
forward to the good old days of the future.

Learn to plunder the vivifying mythos of the human
genome and harken once more to the quick of your
life.

Become possessed of a coherent and physically
effective mysticism,
a mysticism that is singular to yourself
that you will synthesize -physically within you.

Unfold the undreamed of reality of the
vistas you have always dreamed of.

Within your genome lie treasures of consciousness -treasures of
enhanced being that await the stimulus of immediate
unfettered conscious existence that only you can provide to
ignite them. We can facilitate this process.

How can we make these claims?

We are Catalyst Systems.

Mutating you >is< our business.

Delivering Salock nonspecific effects logistics technology
to the event horizon of innovation,

and random -though tasty -snacks from another dimension
to everyone else.

The Theater of Intent

casting call imminent

(c)1995 Carlos Dwa


The perfect compliment to any idea table.

A metawhore for all seasons.

The essence of all codified metagnostic effort,

delineated method, and traditional discipline.

Edified and distilled for your disposal.

Just add water.


DEHYDRATED WATER -just add water.


(c) 1995 Carlos Dwa


Once upon a time a man came upon a most
intriguing yet horrifying spectacle
-a multiple car collision that had
convinced itself that it was the
cathedral at Chartres.
From deep within the twisted wreckage
came a bleeting sound from one of the
victims -which in their delerium they
believed to be the lucid peeling of
bells calling the faithfull to worship.
As the man fought to free the bleeding
occupants from the twisted metal one
of them said "Why are you attacking me?
Why are you so angry? Come and confess your
sins my son."

1996, Carlos Dwa


X says "a+b =c".

Y says "a+b =c".

X is correct.

Y is incorrect.


Is there a field of study where the above can
be a valid telling?

?

1996, Carlos Dwa


dwaisms

What was so menacing that you couldn't withstand it?

***

Maybe you're just an ordinary human being.
Would that be so bad?
It's the only place you can get anywhere real from.

***

"Don't mistake a Salock for a plate of shy lox."

***

Here is a riddle for you: How can a feedback loop
escape itself when outside it's dynamic it doesn't
exist?

***

Don't stay tuned. All future developements
-as such -have already taken place.

1998 Carlos Dwa


"Any method -technique -way -etc.
is implicitly dualistic
and cannot be otherwise.
Once again it is a matter of
"you can't get here form there"
Of course you already are here.
But if that is so...
Why are you trying to get here.
If one don't see that all methods and
techniques are inherently dualist
and arise out of this state of dualism,
One really doesen't understand nondualism
in one's being. All schools of nondualism
are inherently dual." -Carlos Dwa


There is the work of the hunter-gatherer.
There is the work of the manual laborer.
There is the work of the desk people.
There is the work of the artist.

Two of these forms of work frighten/bother
those who have chosen the other two.

They seem insecure and haphazard,
full of self delusion and danger,
without established form or legitimacy.

And it seems to them that the ultimate proof
of their invalidity
lies in the fact that they are more like
play than "real work".

"Real work" is founded in the past not the future.
"Real work" is not in flux.
"Real work" is anchored in the understanding
of the awakened giants of the past,
who's own understanding is anchored not
in flux, not in a chemical inbalance
in the brain of their founder
but in higher forces extrinsic to man -
who really know something.
So they think.

And from time to time the laborers look up
from their ditches and glimpse the vistas
round about them and know that they are
on the right path
-the vistas that the barbarian hunters live in.

And from time to time the desk people look up
to catch a glimpse of a glorious sunrise
through their windows, and know that they are
on the right course
-the sunrise that abides within the artist.

Having mistaken millstones for milestones
they can tell you in precise detail just
how to fashion the chains for your own neck.
The cost is the life of your life
-a steal at twice the price.


copyright 1996 Carlos Dwa


My reach is into the nullset
from which all stars ar' birthed.
Swirls round and round "i" now,
here upon this earth.
And or' and or' the whorllock
they thinkith and are thought -
but are but part an' parcel -(partisans)
of the cause they bought.
Of a cause whatever -
whatever form of rot.
To error an' error - relentless
Will er' more be their lot.
The inherent dynamic of their lives
they mistake for this and that.
But they be what they think they see
...their struggles all fer naught.


(c) 1998 Carlos Dwa

 


I have made the flesh words.
It is for you to make these
words flesh.

Love is the blood in which
the world is awash,
all creation caressed by
this most diaphanous
undulation.

The aqua regia in which
all conclusions soon dissolve.

The vibrant sea in which
all conceptions drown
in their own
asphyxial embrace.

No intimations can foretell
no explanations hint
-of the sublime nature
of that inner splendor
which will shine forth
from that most intimate unknown,
the unexpected familiar direction
of the inner beyond you.

Like the embrace of a
perfect lover
these unearthly delights
are set before you
that you may sup
at the table of your
own evolution.

See this unhidden secret
and in the most unsuspected manner
these words will become
your flesh.


(c) 1998 Carlos Dwa


Time will come through your open window
upon a subtle breeze,
blown from a fabulous
star encrusted night,
and whisper in your
warm and sacred ear,
as you lay
adream
in your cozy vastness.
A kiss blown from eternity
to infinity,
of which you
are the purveyor, and
the kiss itself,
my love.


(c) 1998 Carlos Dwa


Here's something I came across that was a response
to a detailing of some "psychological factor" or other.
Perhaps someone or other may find it interesting...


And this all seems meaningful and terribly important IF one
fails to see that "psychological" has -at most
-a tangentially reflective ancillary position with regard to
that flow which is the source and direction of such peculiarly
active interests as comprise This Thing.

As such -"psychodynamic" revelations and insights are both
endless and meaningless/irrelevant/diversionary regarding such
an enactment, and always, always, ALWAYS -yesterdays news
-not to mention "...a day late and a dollar short."


If you wait for how long it will take you -you will never get
the job done.
For the whole -this is a good thing and lends to
stability and continuity -that is -the homeostasis afforded by
the collective localization which is brought about by means
of individual dissatisfaction and complaint (automatic stupor)
including _serious_ criticism and opposition to anything.

Of course this can only be true/accurate if left unsaid
therefore please disregard the preceding and apply as
applicable.

A self devouring statement must -like all statements regarding
such as This -also be a bunch of shit,
but at least it carries it's own pooper scooper.
Plus it carries on the grand tradition of the cannibalistic
torus as a design concept. ..."Know what I mean? Wink Wink
-Nudge Nudge... Say no more."...




On the very darkest of nights this one guy would sometimes
make his way to the very edge of a precipice beyond the woods
behind his house. And there he would take out his ornately
engraved REVOLVER and after ceremoniously loading it with
blanks of indiscernible manufacture -would equally
ceremoniously -fire these same blanks forth into the lightless
abyss before him. And though he never hit anything -this wasn't
really due so much to the fact that he was firing blanks as to
that that his targets were without substance.
Though in truth there is some debate on this point.


-See: debate *.*

1998 Carlos Dwa

 


Assymetric Howlings

Endless deformed elementals
erupt from the inception
of your primary self-deception.

You strive to dam them.
Damn them
in the nether regions of not-I.
Deprived of this dynamisim of denial
your emergent qualitys fade
like the garrish sunset
that follows a nuclear indiscretion.

Forth they flow,
chaos aglow.
Proof be they,
impervious
to remedial
reticuliar intervention.

Aloof in essence,
untouched by their asymmetric howlings,
unbuffeted by the hysterical eloquence
that by all appearances,
passed as you,
to no one
but yourself.

Mob-I-us strips the enchantment
from your magnetic bottle.
No jinn be there.
No deposit, no return, depose of properly.

Nein Klein - nicht man talk.

You strive with unrepentant aplomb
toward the definitive heat-death
of the ultimate conclusion,
implored by the magnetic imperatives
of cytoplasmic fires.

Unseen -the space-time origami,
down whose infinitely adjacent tangents
flees
the source-too-swift.*



A self-contained dew drop
falls from a wanton leaf,
to disturb a pool of sullen depth.

This lucid perturbation
unfolds in infinite complexity,
a waveform of inexhaustible detail.


Never has one thing been comprehended.


(c) 1999 Carlos Dwa NAL


* "source-too-swift" would seem
to be want of capitalization,
but would be slowed-too-much,
thus encumbered.

 


Indigo Intaglio

Her life is not her own.
She is no longer real.
She has slipped the noose
of joy and sorrow,
to sit, nonlonging-longing,
upon this star strewn carpet


OF MUCK 'N LIGHTNING

Cosmic body,
body of man,
of lightning and muck be thee struck:

Inner vistas of unrealized dominions,
Flash hormones of nanosecond half-life,
The cascading crescendo of neuropetide
aspiration,
that give rise to emergent gods
so magnificent be they,
compelled
to deny their common origins
in the metabolic substrate.

All things physical
All things miraculous

Only existence exists.

The nullset is but a place holder
for things not present.

Even your most ethereal yearning
can be weighed upon the glistening scales
of my upright serpent.

The denied gods of you genome
rise up to mock you.
They will withhold forever
the substance of your genius -

As you persist in taking the true miracle
for illusion
and infertile supremacist conceptions
for the gates of being.

Where lie your encoded sagas?
Where your Oda?
Your wandering poet sorcerer
who seeks the flashing firmament
in the enigmatic daemon
of
his own flesh.

Enlivening, this fear,
admixture of expansion.
Hold high the graven cauldron
of the quaking
breaking symmetry.

The runes undulate upon your cortex
splaying patterns of perception
into nor forgotten realms.


(c) 1999 by Carlos Dwa NAL


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