is a Hose.

The Government collects water from the people
pours it into the top of the hose
to give it back to the people.

Near the top of the hose; a hole.
See! water leaks out here
into a tank marked GOVERNMENT
(which is always empty).

The rest flows down towards the people.

It leaks through other holes:

There are also holes for
(The Government is always trying
to block these three).

Finally, what is left of the water
reaches the people at the end of the hose.

The people fight over it
(it is never enough).

When they get thirsty they start
to throw stones at the government
and threaten to sack them.
The government then, reluctantly,
pours more water into the top of the hose
(which they get from the people).

Finally, when the people are very thirsty,
under the leadership of the
and other CRIMINALS,
they attack the tank marked GOVERNMENT
and break it open.
(It is always empty).

Many of the people die,
and other CRIMINALS).

The Survivors go off and dig a new well;
drink as much as they are able,
as quickly as they can,
and wait for a new Government to find them.


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What comes through the door
is not the Family Treasure.

Faces at the window
a light tap at the door;
what do they show?
(Who is it for?)

The clouds build up as battlefields
of steam,
cannon, horses, guns.
Warriors with swords and shields
towards dying suns.

Five golden chains
bind the painted puppet
(and restrain
and entrap it).
Five wires hold it firm
and make it twist and dance (and squirm),
perform its tricks
(and, for reward, receive its kicks).

Eye, ear, nose, mouth, skin
and one thick rope holds
(and controls)
the mind
(and keeps it blind).


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Because we have neglected much
we finish up with such and such,
surrounded by we see and touch.
Because we have neglected much.

Because we sit and dream (and dream)
we cannot separate is and seem;
images come in floods and teem.
Because we sit and dream (and dream).

Because we lose ourselves in thought
(and all our errors are self-taught)
in Māra’s nets we are well-caught.
Because we lose ourselves in thought.

We have to buy back what we’ve sold.
We have to listen what we’ve told.
We have to trade our young for old,
(and watch our sun grow ever cold).

We finish up with such and such
because we have neglected much.


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Do you really think the others
are any less stupid than you?

All history is prejudiced and gossipy,
all science misuse of the misunderstood.

But nobody waits to understand.
There is no time
jump on
use it
you can’t refuse it
it’ll make you happy
whatsitmatter whatsitsfor?

A clumsy reaper might drop his scythe,
put out an eye,
bad luck.
A clumsy airman might drop his bomb,
put out his civilisation,
bad luck.


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In the pursuit of pleasure
(or the relief of pain),
they abuse their leisure
and then return to work again.

In the pool when the water is clear
a thousand activities appear;
a network of looking, seeing, willing;
of turning, diving, chasing, catching, killing.

Nowhere is there a place where one might hide
when everywhere is bright and clear inside.

A wind blows and the surface now confuses,
reflects the sky
and “I” and “My”
– opaque and deviant excuses;
a wind of words.


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What’s the best TV channel?
Opportunity For Fun.
Which one’s that?
OFF for short.


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This flowering of the Human Spirit
is a reaching out
into the empty wasteland
of the egoic mind
in search of
the lost gardens of Eden.

This fruitless endeavour
to fill its wasteland
with memories
of its past (My was)
and thoughts
of its future (My will be)

is stitched together with
the voice in the head
(about me)
and my videos
(about me);

all projected upon
the long forgotten
and unseen background
of Here and Now.

This wasteland is as insatiably hungry
and eternally empty
as the ever-present Eden
is eternally full
and overflowing
with more than enough
for a million universes.

Switch off the Projector
labelled “Thought”
and let the gentle light shine through;
and feel the gentle Peace arising,
eternally forgiving,
and unsought.


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