Number Seven: Pure Mystery


Number 7 is the embodiment of spirit, representing all that is purely ethereal.  It encompasses a conceptual dimension of reality where materialism is of little consequence and is merely an ever-changing reflection of attitude and ideals.  And where faith is never questioned.

On the numerological base spectrum, whereas 6 is the last of the “lower” or denser vibrational frequencies which we experience on the surface of the earth and through flesh & blood societies; 7 being next in line is the first of the “higher” or more delicately tuned vibrations, ones that operate on astral and spiritual levels, invisible plateaus.  It contains such things in its rare wisdom as we are not privvy to on common terms nor are we generally taught to believe.

Number 7 is every mystery beneath the surface of the earth or beyond the confines of our sky.  It encompasses the full spectrum of parallel realities of this galaxy or any other.  It is every transcendental intelligence of any planet or star cluster throughout the infinity of space & time.  7 involves time travel because where 7 exists, on those planes of willful thought & spirit, the revolutions of earth around the sun are inconsequential and so there are no time constraints.  The beaming pillars of energy & knowledge emanating from 7 are the avenues we take when we travel outside of our bodies and in dreams.

Numeral 7 is also every mysterious occurrence or clandestine subject matter that hums & vibrates throughout the fabricated walls of our insulated little world.  It represents “impossibilities” and miracles:  lost rambling cities beneath the oceans & volcanoes, strange gigantic creatures left over from bygone eras that roam the earth today with us, fairies & little people, elemental spirits, unexplained healings, angelic presences and extraterrestrial beings of which there are many passing through our galactic neighborhood, as surely throughout the littered expanse of even our known universe other planets must foster other forms of life.  7 is the glowing layer where all life form energies to ever exist come together and form the Godhead.

Science in relatively recent years has just begun the catch up to the infinite possibility of spirit, which is what 7 is all about.  That is to say, the highest scientific minds of our day are just beginning to realize and “prove” that all matter, anything ever built or created upon this earth exists in fluctuating strands of ultra-microscopic energy forms which float in & out of comprehended existence; rendering all things impermanent, perhaps thriving on parallel worlds and subject to shifting form at the flash of a thought…Add this to the many mysterious functions of the human brain and anything is possible.  And so we see that the spirit, or the concept of 7-ness, is not a separated version of reality from that of our common material world, it is one and the same:  flesh is spirit and spirit is the expression, the divine intention of flesh.

When we experience a connection with the Lord Almighty, with the angels or saints, Buddha or Krishna or any high being, even the loving presence of Jesus Himself; when we are visited by departed loved ones or are witness to a supernatural occurrence; when we pray on our knees or look to the sky in wonder & gratitude…it is not, as we often perceive, something or someone “up there”, “out there”, “over there” or in some other compartmentalized area apart from our own living space.  That is not what we are dealing with, not at all.  When we have these revelations of spirit it is merely fragments of glimpses of the whole:  all dimensions of life & consciousness exist simultaneously and support one another.  And all of us, every one of our hearts & souls are a part of this whole.  Every version of reality is happening together, right now.

7 personifies all of this and more.  In terms of humanity, the 7 vibration embraces both the male & female tendencies and is therefore symbolic of the earliest souls to arrive on earth which, being primarily creatures of spirit, were whole souls, neither woman nor man yet both; pure light and intention.  Within the philosophy of numerology, any singular numeral digit missing from the make-up of one’s character vibration would be considered a karmic link to life & creation; an aspect of existence not yet fully exercised & mastered by the individual at hand, something they are here to work out.  Since the number 7 transmits levels of consciousness not fully achieved by many living today, and since this is reflected by the great amounts of missing 7′s in numerological readings, some numerologists don’t even consider the lack of 7′s presence in charts to be a personal karmic link at all; rather an overall, generalized condition of current mass mentality in this era of time, something one cannot sink their teeth into, so to speak…something many have not really grasped and are therefore here to learn.

By the same token, those with the vibration of 7 emanating throughout their chart may appear to others as “different” in their perceptions, standing apart from the crowds, perhaps unapproachable or outright weird.  But truth be told these “7″ people have feelings & needs too and are just as human as the masses, maybe even ultra-human as they simply live in and operate from a level of knowing not yet accessed by a majority of contemporary human beings.  Of course the ebb & flow of the other vibrational influences of a chart will color this state of being one way or the other.  7 paves the way for every rare & specialized train of thought, in all its grandeur & completeness.

There are many other symbols relevant to number 7, keys of perception which unlock revealing portals into our ordinary modes of knowing.  Some of them are:  the 7 primary notes on the musical scale or basic keys of sound that resonate through any language; the 7 colors existing on our rainbow perception of light; the 7 great high seas of earth; 7 wonders of the world; 7 primary chakras or energy points of our physical & astral selves, which have been thought of as our link to 7 universes…Is this what is meant when one refers to the 7th heaven?…Some also believe that there are 7 Archangels, leaders amongst the countless legions of light-bound beings.

7′s coinciding ray of color is all shades of purple, from the deepest flaming violet to the palest lavender.  Its gemstone is amethyst.  The 7th chakra is located at the top of the head, the crown chakra; just as the 1st or base chakra connects us to the elemental earth energies, the 7th or crown chakra is our built-in divine link to alternate realities & intangible beings, indeed a gateway to angelic realms, thereby completing the life-force cycle flowing through us and making us whole again.

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In The City

Every time I go into the city
I become every life I see
Fall in & out of love about
five hundred thousand times
I want to live in every old house
Roam every twisting wooden stairway
Climb every rooftop
Investigate every basement floor
I pass people on the street
& feel their intentions
I want to follow them home
& find out their story
See what their world is about
Every old landmark or hillside has stories
Secret chapters scribed by the passing of time
& I read them all
Sculptures stand hidden in the park
For countless years their statements lay mute
I interview the statues
Awaken the spirits
Release the information
I am every ghost in each & every building
I feel every living being in the marrow of my bones

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The Sound of Time Passing


What is that far off sound?
Far away yet everywhere
Sad music to the senses
Could it only be the time of sound passing?

The bay tide is drawn back further than ever
Silken, muddled slipcover pulled aside
revealing so many rustic secrets
Curtain of water over shining mud flats
Picture window pane
through which so many childhood visions are revealed

The sky is painted a full spectrum of greys
Wild changing shades
Colorless pastels, yet so full of light
It christens exhausted bay lands, leaks into them
and is hardly distinguishable
where one ends and the other begins
Gypsy raindrops, light uncommitted raindrops
spiral and bounce their way down to earth
on a wild, howling breeze
the same one that is changing the sky and
the order of things, divine kaleidoscope

Ancient backyards lie overgrown and untouched
Protecting simple legacies
The wind wails and whistles louder
through high green grasses and wildflowers
through tall eucalyptus and golden acacia
Decorating the day with cherry blossoms
Decorating the rain
with sweet aromas of another era
that which is neither dead nor gone
yet to be born, only a collection
of projected life energy
A living record, a song, a movie
Sacred selection from the archives of space & time

Where the tired old creek runs into bay flats
spirits dance a sad and noble dance
above a burned and scarred horizon
upon a secret terrain
where emotion is lifeblood and
dreams mingle with waking reality
The wind continues to thump and howl louder than ever
It pounds out ancient drum beats in the near distance
It’s rhythm is entrancing
Encompassing everything
It will spellbind your heart
and humble your soul quickly
like the sweet sad sound of time passing

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Dapper Demons


 

I saw the grim reaper
last night in my dreams
He stood quietly in the doorway
just over my shoulder
He startled me, appearing
on the edge of darkness
without a sound, dreary flat figure
Silhouette of doom
Where his head should have been, at first, nothing
only a dark empty spot
And then on closer inspection, a black hood
crowning the black emptiness
where his face should have been
And instead of robe & dagger
he wore a black pinstriped suit
Three piece
Double breasted
Very dapper
My demons like to show up in style

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Angel World, Land of Dreams


Welcome to my angel world
Welcome to my land of dreams
in my secret world of angels
things are never what they seem
There’s never any hate
no evil thoughts, heartbreak
There’s no pain and no death
Life is measured breath by breath
In my world of angels
we ignore all kinds of sorrow
In this land of dreams
we never think about tomorrow
And there’s plenty of love
every heart’s abound
and there’s never a mean soul
to run you to the ground
or kick you when you’re down
For as long as I remember
as far back as I can see
There’s always been this secret landscape
my special land of dreams
If you couldn’t find this girl
you’d know where she would be
deep pools of dark brown iris
spirals ever widening
You might think me strange, offbeat
something like a fool
but in my angel world
no one’s ever cruel
There’s no betrayal, poison tongues
no heart that’s lame and jaded
In this land of dreamscapes
all my troubles have faded
’cause I let the angels in
and they will see us through
Those who we can’t see
will be the life of you and me
Come in, sit down
pay a visit to my room
Come to my angel world
where dreams outshine the blues
where all that you desire
can be what’s really true

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Song of Athens

Glowing vibration of church bells
Loud buzzing of a workman’s tool
Rat tat tat of hand helds
Wings flapping
Distant traffic thunder
Street hammer pounding
Musical chanting
Engines missing
Birds singing
Whistles of Greek boys
Horns and people shouting
Voice of goddess warrior
calling you in dreams

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Departures & Arrivals


 

 

 

 

 
Originally appeared in Migration of Souls (2003), one of my nine poetry chapbooks self-published between the years 1999-2004:

Out beyond the horizon
an eternity of lives
decorate the earth
with silent stories, unspoken dramas
Hearts unraveling across the land
Countless wayfarers with visions
and struggles, with dreams and
reasons we’ll never know
Out there over your line of sight
where highways keep disappearing
stories of love and humility lie in the ashes
Untold, unfulfilled legacies
strange mute victories
lie like fossils in the silt
Out beyond the mountains
over high desert plains
across the great rivers
beneath city streets
and in back alley towns
in crumbling graveyards
and ancient neighborhoods
lie hallowed sites
blood drenched soil
fierce blind honor
Mysterious grounds with
strange and beautiful stories
which, unknown, change everything forever
Out beyond the horizon
it’s calling, that ghostly terrain
you can get there in your dreams
you can get there by train
You can fly, walk or hike it
ride shotgun or drive
ride til day light
You can get going tonight
See all your eyes will hold
live nine thousand lives
But you’ll never arrive
you’ll never get there
you’ll never ever get it
until you get your own heart


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Just Camping Out

This poem originally appeared in Dreams of The Motherland (2002), one of my 9 poetry chapbooks self-published between the years 1999-2004:

I don’t live in the system
Not this fool
I’m just camping out there awhile
How could we think it the only way?
I spend my days facing fears, one by one
I spent the years of my youth & my life
searching for America
Scaling rustic roads
through the heart of a land misunderstood
Drifting over long, empty
wild & silent highways
like a sheltered beast put out to graze
Wearing the desolate night sky like a blanket
cold & lonely as it was
Drinking summer storms
through every pore of my soul
Existing from roadside stop to stop
Embracing every broken town like art
then leaving tumbleweed sidewalks behind
Never staying, always running, rolling away
Looking for lost country
Neutralizing a haunted identity
Looking to live a simple life
Always looking
for traces of an old-fashioned world
which was fast disappearing
swallowed by the artificial dreams
of old monster time

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The Great Dead Masters

Only the great dead artists
understand our predicament
can see into our loneliest nightmares
& most devastating dreams
Only the great dead artists
can understand our predicament
how we’re slipping, slipping so far
from our place on earth
so deeply into the hallowed place of
eternal mourning, the darkest dawn
Never ever to let go yet slipping
far away as the cord runs thin
never to break, only disintegrating
into the universe which divides &
holds us together, until what we burn for
what we loath & cherish & hope for
becomes one with all of creation
& our ghostly legacy speaks through all that is
Only the great dead masters
understand what it’s like to exist in this wasted sector that our hearts have created
can feel what we’re feeling & see into our visions
can picture our most desperate sorrows & the moments we thought
would last forever, that we screamed, prayed, dreamed
would last forever
Only the masters could capture the beauty & desolation
holding true in our psyches
Balancing our cerebral elephants on fine pin lines there
Coloring those unearthly landscapes with empathetic strokes
unimaginable spectrums of color
Brushing carelessly through our eternity
with angels wings & circus rings
Strange creatures, all of God’s children
Faceless figures parading through the shadows
of lost gardens & mysterious watery horizons
Death skull charms, sad brides beneath dark veils
Clouded faces peering through windows & mirrors
which hold secrets that forever torment us, will never die
Sad jokers with the funny knowledge of death in their eyes
Two-faced knights & twin queens
poking their heads through both sides of the curtain
Reaching for the crest of heaven while
penetrating the underworld with all we ever were
Adorning our worlds with the card’s ancient mysteries
The symbols & signs that tell what we dare to remember
Was it spades or was it clubs?
Hearts or diamonds?
Changing as the day changes
blurry & uncertain as the never-ending flux of time
And now that we are slipping further & further away from one another
Now that I’m slipping so far away alone
our fate lies in the hands of every great dead genius
though madmen & sheisters in their time
they doubtlessly lived & breathed to create
that which would come to be the only key to understanding
what our hearts have not survived
Dwelling now only within high narrow rooms & galleries
existing on walls with bad lighting
watch-guarded by clueless curators
with so many zeros in their eyes
Our cosmic dilemma surfacing & resurfacing within
these relics which I follow through tired streets
scanning hallways, scouting hidden back-alley bannisters
for the wordless stories which will surely be our sanctity
as they circulate through the old city in ransomed arcane symbols
relished, cracked & fading
born from the great masters of the human & subhuman condition
Only there & in dreams
will our scandalous fate continue
this common ground we seek

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Happy Birthday Janis Joplin!

Today is the birthday of the late Janis Joplin, greatest female rock & blues singer of all time.  She would have been 70 years old!  Everything about her style was original, raw and inimitable; there has never been nor will ever be anyone like her.  She has always been my #1 favorite singer; I grew up with her music and have loved & deeply identified with her for all of my life.  I would like to commemorate this day & the precious years that she shined on earth with a poem I wrote to her when I was very young; word for word as it was originally composed in 1975, I was 15 years of age and she had already been gone for 5 years:

Janis

When you gave up your world of
a warm woman’s stomach
to enter this world for
your first breath of air
first good morning to earth
I was just a melody
drifting through the universe
just a wild seed
drifting with the breeze
not yet planted
not yet begun to grow
When you found your patch of space to grow in
to reach far and touch your dreams
stretch far into the sky
they came along with giant sheers
and cut you low
rubbed your face in pretty dresses and
the boy-next-door and properness
they gave you a chance to be everyone else
when it seems that all you wanted
was just to be yourself
When you finally broke free
out of the crowded cocoon
to escape the pain planted deep inside
I had just begun to breath this air
just a new babe
held tight against Mother Nature”s breast
And you found yourself at home
in sidewalks and bars and
strange men’s beds
covering sorrow with orgasm and staying stoned
floated on a cloud
but it was still there
that scar of yesterday
Then you found relief one day when
you weren’t even trying
found yourself on stage
bright lights
music from behind
your wound healed a bit with
a word and a scream and
a shake of the hips
but pain was still there
one could see it in your eyes
Now they swarmed around you
like bees in a hive
for a taste of your honey
they’d give anything
tequila or junk or
a piece of their ass
when it seems all you wanted
was a being who loved
You kept right on singing as
free as the trees in the wind or
the first morning bird
exposing your soul with your song
expressing your pain
until it drove you to
your end
And now I share your scar of
yesterday
for you are a melody
drifting through the universe
a wild seed
drifting with the breeze
planted in the sky…

Posted in Other Stuff, Photos, Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , | 10 Comments