Writings: To my faithful…
To my faithful…
Live according to the value of your own wisdom and your life increases in value. The gifts/insights you attract will bear this out.
To be present to one's own truth is the greatest accelerator of consciousness.
Hate is love without the bridge of affection. Hate is love confused, angry and blocked. Hate belongs to the same love which it denies.
Music is the father of the universe. Its mother is rhythm!
The world that you imagine, is the world that you inherit.
Sometimes the best days start off feeling like the worst.
Almost all 'addiction' has its roots in self pity which itself is rooted in the lack of self-forgiveness. Forgive yourself and move on, it was an experience, a point of observation, not a judgement. To integrate one's dark shadow is a part of the privilege of human existence.
Sometimes one has to die in order to save one's own life.
The more racist and sexist a man is, is usually a reflection of how lazy his mind is…
Cultures founded on racism are inherently blind in one eye like a one eyed jack wondering where half of his kingdom has gone and why he always seems understaffed. Even in the poorest ghettos of the world there are stars and a good society looks for them, educates them and puts them to work for culture.
Maestro Harry Belafonte is one of the most under rated giants of the last century. As an actor he was vivid and alive, as a performer thrilling and electrifying, as a personality magnetic and charismatic and as a singer impeccable, who could swing and phrase with the absolute best and was a pivotal influence on no less a figure than Sam Cooke! Most importantly his dignity revealed his blood's true nobility.
Dogma requires permission. Inspiration not, just heavy heavy taxes!
Short poem number 6:
My soul is the sea
Drown with me..
The fewer species around on the planet to help humans absorb solar radiation, the more it falls on humans to absorb the burden alone. As we were not created to shoulder this burden alone, diseases increase, the mental levels (relative to the absorption of solar rays) become destabilized and even the economy of the world becomes more stressed. We seem to have little idea how important are the other creatures in Gods dream to our overall well being and the planet's sanity as a whole.
One man's psychosis is another man's deeper understanding.
One man's disciples are another man's entourage.
Grace, if it is real can never be compromised. To compromise it is to lose it.
Even a winos life is worth the best wine he can find. To toast the gift of life with the best, giving one's tears the highest springboard from which to fall and splatter the gutter even as it washes it.
If your work ethic does not match your ambition, you'll live frustrated and angry with yourself and full of blame for others. You can attain what you dream, as long as you are willing to provide the steam.
There is no easy way in or out for those who wish to grab lightning and shape it to their own ends. One must be willing to persevere through the obstacles which produces the friction which creates lightning. The work itself strengthens the vessel to contain it. This was the secret of Prometheus. Once it became clear to him that the Gods would continue to find cause to refuse him his thunderbolts, the journey began to produce his own. And what he shared thereafter was all the more precious and electrifying because he birthed it himself. (with additional secret help from his old friends the 'Phempmops')
Who suffers more uncertainty than the growing pearl? Who can only dream of light before she ever sees it. Even as she wonders "and how will I ever get out of this jam?"
Demons take the shape they need to in order to convince your mind that they are more real than you. When in doubt, just give them the middle finger, it works like a charm.
The hardest thing to outrun is our own stupidity.
Breathing allergies betray that what we are most allergic to is our own fear. It also points to the extent to which as children we were expected to swallow too much of our own pride.
I've often done things that I didn't understand but I've never done anything that I didn't mean.
When love is love, blood is blood
Down syndrome children are angels and to know one is to know the truth of our own essence, its purity its nobility and its innocence and to abuse one is to risk the wrath of God for life time's to come.
It is destructive to the psyche to have to live a lie.
The constant harassment and whippings I receive almost daily via the ethers and other channels from those who noisily believe that the gift loaned to me by my spirit should be theirs to control (how mindless a thought!) are pointless. Because: a) I was taught by the dream teachers how to convert the energy towards my soul's aim and b) to whip a dog is to convince him to stop, but to whip a horse is to convince him to go and go faster and in this case a horse I am. These are the type of people always looking to pad their own nests with other people's feathers. Little do they seem to understand the karmic law of throwing caca at those engaged in the meditation of following the will of their spirit. At some point and backed by a healthy wind the crap has to return back to them, hitting them squarely in the face whereby they must then chew on it as their daily bread and for quite some time…..
The lives of Bach, Mozart and Beethoven were each continuations of the work of the others. Imagine that the God of Music was writing a story and in the course of completing the narrative used three pens as naturally at some point a pen runs out of ink and another pen is picked up and the story resumed. Such was the case with these holy three, each a different pen used by the same story teller to retranslate the truth of the rock of ages.
Who is she
That runs after my heart
Even down to its darkest hole
Searching for a beauty mark
Within a dampened cave
Where I am hiding like a mole
Waiting for the waves to break
Onto the love I've saved
While fielding spear heads,
Hassle for its own sake,
And narrowed eyes
Aimed at me like slits
I kept my head down
And burrowed in
While kissing fabled clits
Thank you to all of you for your spirited encouragement,
It is very very much appreciated!
These writings are dedicated to the memory of two great geniuses of American Theatre: Ossie Davis and Arthur Miller
ALL PRAISES BE TO THE NAME OF YOUR GODS AND ANCESTORS!
COPYRIGHT SANANDA MAITREYA - MILANO 16th FEB 2005
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
INTELLECTUAL COPYRIGHT PROTECTED