Walking through the city so
unmindful of my legs,
The Hoverer stays motionless no matter
where I go : borderless GodSky
also deLighting [this] brainbow;
how long has it hovered unstuck to egoity,
immune to post & pre,
everybody’s personal egoless deity—
why try to look & see? ‘Tween the temples it’s aware
unseen/beholdingly : never caught in neural net
like some blood juicy fly...
exodusted from the grip of
So which is The Hoverer, now or eternity?
The Hoverer embraces both uninterruptedly:
mated like a mirror shows shit & reflects stainlessly,
never clinging to a thought of
Oh my god it’s right here : I AM actuality...
no known name can be!
Tell me then, who hovers?
Dawn-fresh AH horizon-free.
I’d reply but secret mantra in-hears silently
Continual right-now is
a quality of GodGlow...
anyone can know; yes know in biblical sense of
mated unity : wholly
body : treasure
of skull hill : actual I AM connection
LAST WORDS OF A FRIEND
deLight closely watches,
closer than mindshell(s) can be:
faux surrounding I AM
where stuck-to body dies
wisdom-eye’s pure serenity,
don’t wait to die to see!
It's no secret that his name is Ken Goodman, but
(when ecstatic meditation mates with poetry creation)
he writes under the pen name of 'yours truly, the happy recluse.'
And he does it in Cleveland.
Places yt's poems appear include: Azure: A Journal Of Literary Thought; Fleas On The Dog; Grand Little Things; Angel Rust Magazine; OOMPH! Press; They Call Us (Sluts & Prudes) Magazine; and Die Leere Mitte Magazine (Berlin).