thoughts | poetry
i might infer on a finer point kindest sir, if you shoult indulge my my most dicourtious inquiry...scrutinal... eh,,, ehum, fishing expedition, if i might, in to the nature of your present consanguinities; you are on private terms with that most delicious looking persian now involved in the can of tuna just there? or no...?
after all, i still weep at the thought of big still eyes. i get the feeling that over time, the sweetness of certain moments will still drown the color of my eyes. i can not find the heart of a moment which paints laughter on my mouth in the shape of a tear. ambiguous tears. clown smile shaped tears... smile shaped fears. ? smiles shape the heart of the fearless, laughter is the answer to all worldly fears.
a birthday sky opens something new
warmth opens on my back, a pond in which you swim
on a rock, life pouring from my belly
blood pearls, my open bone spine smiles )
a birthday sky eats its cake
the flesh of earth's children: birthday wrappers
another age
you see each of them pass without consequence
love,
your children
everyone believes that they just want to be understood. just once. completely. they also fear being completely understood. they must keep their one sacred, secret, quiet place because they know that if someone understands them completely once, that same person will engrave that image or map of them in stone and then their dynamic ever changing marvelous subjectivity will be stolen and forced into indelible, objective dustiness. we have a nasty habit of drawing a map of everything and then pinning it up in our brain as a feeble attempt at mastery and understanding of the system without and within. the more maps we draw and believe we understand, the more the ever changing nature of THIS reality is lost on us and we in it. it is even more tragic when we believe we have finally, fully understood one we love and then draw a little map of them, put it on the wall and hold them responsible for not measuring up to that from that moment forward. this world is eternal subjectivity. our views, ideas, all subject to our particular lenses. but,,,, we think we know the deal. we think our one view or idea is how it is across the board. inevitably, we crystallize our thoughts and ideas and begin trying to manifest them into objectivity so we can impose or persuade in an attempt to feel understood or masterful. we commit this blunder emotionally, interpersonally, socially, nationally, religiously, galactically and eternally. so, we want to be understood right? but to be understood is to have had your ever changing youth taken and quantified. let your world and the worlds of those around you breathe. let organic, dynamic, ever-changing reality be. don't volunteer to have the ultimate cosmic joke played on and lost on you. have fun, learn and love now. you'll find out the truth - or you won't - when you DIE!!!!!!!!!!
god god god god god god god god god god god god god god god god god god god god. allah allah. god god god god god god god god god god god god god god god god god god god god. allah. god god god god god god god god allah god god god god god god. allah. god god god god god god god god god god god god god god god god god god god. coffee, cigarettes. god god god god god god. extra bacon. warhead
pineapple program, dub strawberry , burning mint star joint, bright infinite violet flame floater
imperfect angel bleeding from the ear, asking for cigarettes. smells of wet dirt and skin oils. like sweat, still bleeding from the ear. collecting money for menudo after falling from grace, in the eye of sweat country. mired in wisdom without integrity, set free by possesivenesslessness. wanting, incarcerated, lonely, bright, helpful, bleeding. stomach users, yet able to grant the peace and strength of god in irony, under bridge, with no underwear. oil drum fire eyes dripping love. naugahyde coin pouch with a joint and aged, tattered psalm. lacking grace yet able to fully extend his heart.
if you've ever seen a fish with missing eyes, then you know what my computer sees right now.
feeling
as stones on the desert floor;
scarce in a child's experiments.
cold, driven.
cats don't always land on their feet...
my farts smelled of wine this morning
you are very special. this i know because i have not forgotten you and in my heart i hear you calling me. you do not demand to be heard, but you say hello sweetly and ask that i call you and say hello back to you.
emptiness, like the void, can express anything it wants. it is all possibility. so, in some cases, emptiness may express too much when words would simply have done enough.
in silent presence, emptiness says everything. in silent absence, emptiness remains silent. and empty.
the greater the distance from which you view chaotic, unrelated events, the clearer their continuity and order becomes. the more closely you inspect any ordered system, the more that order unravels itself to reveal chaos. a state of order or entropy in a system is defined only by someone who believes their position or state to be absolute...in other words, indefinable. in any moment or system in a moment, absolute perfection of form will be found interwoven with utter chaos. in this relationship lies the infinite, absolutely perfect and perfectly chaotic nature of the cosmos. it is through this lens which i view my music and my existence. it is by these truths that we can love in a world so full of pain, and hate in a world so beautiful and full of love.
We watch sleep the things we love.
We take strength and solace in their helpless peace, renew our wonder in the indeterminacy of their dreamspace.
Soothing is the sound of a changing landscape, a struggle to clutch that very, tiny stone which will keep us from a treacherous fall to certain wakefulness.
Soft are the features of something lost in time, something new or old that you love resting near you.
Sweet is the sound of its breath, maybe sweeter the taste of it, but none so much as the parting of tired eyes for another day of life together.
my heart is stone. my eyes are the plants green that only sunlight will reveal. our mind has turned to glass which sees with wooden eyes. a man can use my scalp for his drum and he may wear my skin. i remain only long enough to hear his song.
Human beings long for a pure state.
In silence we sit on mountains and their rocks. We swim underwater looking through our glass into the eyes of a fish. Our ears hear only the simple sound of our breath. We smile because the fish regards us with its youthful curiosity. We regard the fish in the same way.
When we are reduced to our breathe and the great, silent presence of our planet, it is easy to smile. Our eyes half open, the earth watches us from every leaf. When it senses our mind opening, it begins to give us its dream. We see clouds in a sky. Animal shapes reflect the dream of earth in the eyes of sky. Our eyes reflect the animals in the sky. The sky sees our animal eyes and knows it is a part of the dream and bears light and liquid to our open faces. Our tongues emerge. We taste the sky. Tears of animals pool on rocks. Birds clean. Animals bleed and tear.
Joy and tears are traveling together in the morning sky. They ride together in a brightly colored hot air balloon. They watch onlookers wonder if watching the balloon and the other balloons is more like swimming underwater or dreaming of child pleasures. Folks on the ground wave to the balloon. Joy and tears wave back. Someone walks inside a house and cries. He misses being human. He misses being animal. He misses trees. He misses his spirit. Every breath brings the taste of something unnatural. He can only think of a brightly colored balloon. joy and tears are so close this morning.
Their balloon grew out of the ground earlier in the morning. Some sunshine flowers nearby saw themselves rising too. So much joy in their petals. They see humans dreaming again. They feel humans as children again. How long will it last they wonder…? Pain returns.
scrub the bathroom tub.
this week, let us all remember that we are fellow travelers on our beautiful ship: mother earth. honoring our planet is honoring the future of our people and the those beings that we share this planet with. let us also recognize that times are changing. there are symbols all around us right now, wake up calls begging us to recognize that many of the social, industrial, environmental religious, and governmental philosophies we have inherited from our ancestors have served us well yet are faltering now in the light of monumental shifts in consciousness, the evolution of the consciousness of our planet and the ramifications of the continual exploitation of our overburdened planet. take moments to silence yourself. visualize yourself outside the structure of the system you have been conditioned to believe is the only reality. picture yourself in the middle of a potentially limitless inner and outer cosmos, and then re-evaluate your position and priorities in your current context.
...while seemingly dark in nature, it's darkness is really symbolic of the confusion and fear many feel as they approach death and begin to understand that all the work they have done their entire lives to solidify their identity and security in an impermanent reality is lost to the illusion in which it was cultivated. everyone must ask the questions: if what you hear, see, taste, smell and touch is the only reality, what is death? what do you really believe happens to you when you die? when you accept that the unknown surrounds on all sides your physical existence, it is hard to still believe that this (3d) is the ultimate reality. you begin to see how duality is the only mechanism ...illusion... which separates us from an integrated experience with the ultimate (spirit, god, creator, infinite, unknown). when you sense this, the knowledge of your body's inevitable death becomes the vision which allows you to see beyond all that you have been conditioned to believe.
papal predilection: the pope liked cantaloupe.
Work and grow for three days. Eat my eyes and yours too… if I wish. An insect has spoken of the things we cannot see. While he whispers to me I laugh at myself. For a moment I thought I was beginning to understand. So did he until I ate him.
The flood is coming this way; up through and out. It burns with love. It is carrying bodies whose light has been left in its path. It is carrying light whose bodies have been left in darkness. Is my light ready to shine? Or does my body move aside so my light can be carried away into next spring?
I am ignorant of such possibility in whose heart lies question. I will not ask as I watch beasts tear at each other to drink doubt. I cry with laughter, I walk with intent on everything unanswerable. I won’t question the question maker.
In simple words we find room to breathe
the dimensions of their origin
locked as language tightens its hold
Been stayin up too late in a audio trance.
Got bit by a stereo flow
Washed my hair with coffee this morning.
when in battle you shed a tear
for all your bravery
in your cause, met by the lie;
love in opposition to your justness,
in truth, love in embracing arms to your resistance in battle
you move through your enemy and backwards through your lover
you move forward through your friend, backwards through the one who has taken you in battle to love, in love to death
I’m installing a program essentially, except it takes hundreds of times longer because all of my ram is in use for things like emotions, actions, eating, language, and phone conversations.