October 9th, 2004

From"Decoded" The arrival

Zen And the Art of Delight


Licentious, sybaritic, sensuous, yes
I bow my head to nothing less.
I’ve been in many bouts and fights
But this one’s always seemed quite right.
Dead denial, staid routines
Calvin, Knox…or libertines;
Seems to be the Holy War
Underlying cults of gore.
Restriction, repression, warped obsession
I looked at it, and got the lesson.
That Freud, and Reich and Aubrey Beardsley
Were closer to the Truth that filled me:
The lotus and the heated rod
With focus are the Gate to God.
So backwards to the backward throng
Almost as if the things most wrong
That they condemned to outer dark
Fumbling, desperate in the park
With passions of all shapes and forms
Were not the sin, but the true norm.
Early I came, and came to Truth…
In darkened cellars, up on the roof
And O, I felt neither regret nor sin
Not for an instant, I knew not when
Or why so blessed’ I had been.
To experience the glory of the flame
Which gave the nameless its true name.
Abide in it, or abide in Not
Yoga union fresh and Hot.
Unbearable flesh fire,
Sensual, sensuous Desire
Pleasure is principled delight
The scented garden lost from sight.
Invoked in passion, beyond reason
Dear God, I know it sounds like treason
To the temple, to the state
It elevates, humiliates.
Antagonizes, yet it rises
From the Tomb as from the Womb.
I have touched the wet, wet Stars.

TAG 10/05/04
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