Oak McIlwain

Is there a stain on your mirror?

Do you see you see yourself no more?

Are you out there on the street selling happiness like a whore?
My only disease is a deep inner joy that shines through my tears.

And I rejoice in tribulation

Because tribulation worketh patience, patience understanding.

And you rejoice in matter as your intestines fall to the floor.

And your heart dries up but remains faintly idling like your thought created machines.

And I’m calling you always from this distant realm of now.

I’m not a spiritual teacher but I can tell you a tale about one.

Once this man was walking in the jungle and he came across a flower bud and he could
tell by looking at the flower bud that when it bloomed it would be a most beautiful
flower so he decided it would be best if he helped the flower to bloom as soon as possible.

First he spoke to the flower about some physical exercises it could do to prepare itself for
the meditation that would allow the flower to bloom quicker. Strangely, the flower remained silent.

He decided that perhaps chanting would be more appropriate for the flower bud so he instructed the
flower bud on several complex sanskit chants and waiting patiently for the flower to reproduce them.
Still the bud remained utterly silent.

Well, he thought, plants do breath so I must instruct it on some breath extension and retention. He
gave a long discourse on the use of pranayama to bring about a meditative state of mind. The flower
listened very intently however when the teacher was done, it’s breathing remained the same and it didn’t make a sound.

Finally, in desperation the man shouted a simple meditation technique to the flower bud. “Just be Still”.
Upon the instant the man realised his error and left the flower bud in peace.

The next day in the sun, the flower bloomed so full and beautiful and stunning.

It was truly a magnificent flower, yet it made no sound. It drew no attention to it’s awesomeness.

It did not verbally rejoice in it’s exquisit gentleness but it certainly enjoyed it immensely.
Enjoyed it’s self with it’s full being.

And it was still in silence as it faded, still in silence as it fell to the floor and even in
silence as it returned to the earth to complete the circular embrace.

love love love
kisses
sex
curves
beauty
love love love
semen being sprayed on breasts
love
licking clitorus
multiple orgasms
peace love peace

Dearest Warlord,

I feel that we are living in a cruel and bleak age.
We dwell somewhere between sex slaves and sex robots.

1510 - Rape
2010 - Jail
2510 - Rape

This notion bothers me. I question my will to live. Perhaps some form
of cryogenic freezing program will be effective?

I will have a note on my container stating: “Frozen. Summon from
hypersleep whenst sex robots hath been perfected”.

Heil war and lord…

Buntsdoom.

—

Dearest Buntsdoom,

It is with heartfelt regret that I peruse this epistle.

It does indeed spell the end of an era when ones balls have swollen to
the nth degree and I find my own constitution pissing on me.

May a time come of blatant debauchery where an anus may throb with the
intensity of a million brown dwarf implosions.

I desire my semen to be distributed throughout space so that it may
chance impregnation of an alien woman called jesus.

Masturbation,
Saffron Robed Warlord.
Senior Lord of War.

—

Thy immortal robed-one.

Heiled be thy legal rape of Humaniods…

Both our sacks have swollen to a point of no return. I will partake in
your discourse. We must build a rocket, cum all over it, send than
nigger into outer space and then wait for our half-cast, bastard
children to visit us from their homelands on Alpha Centauri.

Death to animals.

—

Common to a robe is a hood.
And whence under thine hood is throbbing.
Do you seek to uncover the riches?
And be sprayed with divine nectar?

The hooded lord dictates the actions of lesser heathen toads.
And sends them on vast adventures down ancient and much coveted roads.

I sit and pluck pubes from my ballsack; Purple.

Graduation from this school is certainly assured.
I study and practice day and night.
I bitch and moan and put up a fight.
Inevitably I give in to various fungal infections.

You are the one to blame for everything.
Basically, I no longer take any responsibility for anything.
Speak to my lawyer.

Pork.

At the absolute level, the ultimate truth is that there are no groups or individuals. You are speaking of relative truth here which is useful for beginners. Healing itself, being of the body or the mind, is within the field of matter (however subtle) and therefor it is always relative. The true self has never been hurt so requires no healing as it isn’t material. It’s only attributes are silence, space and awareness. It can be aware of pain but pain can never be inflicted on it. Identifying oneself with the material is actually the cause of suffering.

She is the west.
Not a direction but a gentle breeze
She is warm and soft when you wake for no reason.
For I have no reason.
But they all try to give me one and I drop it straight away.
For a vast expanse of emptiness that I touched today.
Just one caress and it’s washed far away.
Did I miss the stop in the second sentence. What for?
To make a senseless rhythm beating angel’s paws.

Glad to make your acquaintance lady of the west.
Did you like your mathematics test?
When one plus one equals one - you’re done.
But I have only just begun this quest…
It’s polite to open the door for another.
Some doors push back in an attempt to smother.

The land of epiphany is ripe for the tephenie.
S for the sombre sweet and sweat beneath your hallowed feet.
These days the humans dance with gods.
And Siddhis rise like golden pillars:
From the deep enchanted forest.
The dmtrees enshrined with bliss - encapsulate essential this.
The I am isness on the path.
The light that lights beyond light and dark.

Many people looking at the world around them feel that they must solve all the external problems in order to bring about harmony. This is the greatest illusion and trap.

Evil can only move through you when you are unconscious. Therefor if you remain conscious at all times then you are harmony. Likewise if the entire human race remains conscious then there is no way that any evil can exist.

Love you, your gentle nature, easy going, flowing and often glowing.
Beautiful and it doesn’t have to be deep.
Beauty as simplicity and it’s ok in flesh.
Because I see all as one beyond each body of flesh and then
There is no judgment when I think you are hot.
Because you are
But you aren’t flesh
You are love
And you are me

So when I love you,
I love the universe and myself.
As Brahman floats in the absolute.
Pan sits alone and plays with his flute.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CUadYx2yvXY

When the sky dropped like marshmallows
William was ready
He was ready steady

You only see purple now don’t you?
When the twins fell from their cradle.
Where were the lizards? The 11th hour.

Overwhelmed with love is the heart
But who can feel themselves when they were raised a sheeple
I don’t want to lose what we had last your leaving

This life aint fair
Oh my fair maiden
Oh yeah it was Bin Laden

Do I get to feel your boobs now
Pal Mall brown cow
You’re out in the fields and over the hills

So when I turn the key
You will all see that geomatrix light up like fire
And the seers will walk out of the fire
But the fire will remain in their eyes
And the energy will tear up their spines.

Those who have seen the needles I now tread
Will feel the pins or the pinch
Wow, what an amazing ass you have there
I don’t feel rude anymore when I stare
Any more rude that you putting on your make up

Squeeze em bitches, check for cancers
Check the cage full of hamsters

The cats got my tongue
That little kitties on the run
Dancing and smiling like only black cats will do

When the sky came down
A marvelous miracle
of miraculous clowns
William was ready
Do you want your death to come quick or slow Mr Sheeple?
Do you want to finally let go Mr Sheeple?

Because you ain’t got much time sweety

Times up; the end of time or the world of rhyme
Is in your hand my princess
You are divine
But don’t waste it
Because if you can waste it
It means you think you had it in the first place