JFT

We’re all there, right where you are… in this day. With all life’s tasks, joys, gifts, and burdens. Often there’s only a whisper of peace in the chaos, but there is peace nonetheless.

What I wouldn’t give to trade places for just one day, almost anyone would work. They can have my stack of bills, and my schedule, and my past, and my pain. They can take those phone calls, and talk with my flunking child’s school, and take my visitor’s badge at the prison. Whatever problems they have, they can’t be worse than mine!

Simply ask around, who wouldn’t want to trade places with someone else? How would you decide who to trade with? I asked my friend Tommy, he said anyone would work, a trade lottery of sorts. That might work well, random trading, I get your life and you get mine, just for today. All the bad, and all the good.

Tommy mentioned he always wanted to ride a bull, and drive NASCAR, or tour around in the late sixties listening to the rock of the ages, dreams of dreams as he and his wife fight to feed and cloth three baby girls. Between his wife’s twelve-hour nursing shifts, and his spotty union operator trade. On this cold February morning, Tommy would trade with just about anyone, just for today. He loves his girls, all four of them. He loves his friends, and his mother-in-law who helps watch the girls while his wife’s at work. He fought cancer ten years ago, when he was single, without a care in the world. He was free to live, or free to die, and accepting of either.

Today it seems, he’d be willing to trade his day for yours, whatever your day looks like… so, you up for it? Not a single care you have right now will exist, none of your worries, none of your fears. Just for today. Of course you would, who wouldn’t? One little catch, you may feel a sharp little prick in your arm. You’ll be comfortable though, music, movies, just sit back in your lounge chair and relax. Take in the sight of the lake out the window, littered with ducks and diving eagles. Relax and take a nap, read a book. You don’t have to work today, the kids are taken care of, a good friend will be with you to laugh. Yes, with all your worries, and all life’s trouble, just for today you can forget it all and have a nice relaxing day at the cancer spa.

I think I’ll keep my problems, just for today! I love you Tommy, and I’ll be here for you til the end.

Your best friend,

Dave

That Special Place

The stretching tan landscape lay untouched.

A distant fire warmed my wandering soul.

Daring risk, a move, a step, fingertips my guide.

Zapped, teased, electric, I touched her gentle arm.

Preparation

Tags

Blue, Death, Fear, God, Love, The Human Condition, Truth

Life’s game is not really won in the daily struggles, or in how we deal with conflict, or good news, or bad news.  It’s not lost through our shortcomings, indifference, and lack of willingness, or in being wrong.  Life’s game, our quest for peace and serenity in each moment, every day, every relationship, and in each new challenge is won in the preparation.  Am I going to learn today that which will allow me to live at peace tomorrow?  What’s this lesson in front of me?  Who are my teachers?  Most importantly, did I learn the last lesson so I might learn this new one?

The examples are many, those things in life which I was not prepared for.  Surely, I was given the time and sufficient notice to learn that which I needed to know.  Surely, I skipped the prior lesson, didn’t put in the work, or didn’t know class had started?  Isn’t there always a bell?   Have I lived as though this life’s a dress rehearsal for the real one?  Do I dismiss, judge, and condemn my teachers for their humanity?  Are those teachers picking on me, annoy me, lying to me, cheating on me, or talk down to me?  Have I learned that those teachers are the ones I love the most when I stop fighting myself and the lesson?

Have I made myself ready to receive God’s greatest gifts?  If not, can I open my ears and my heart today so I might learn and stop fighting?  What does it mean to be ready? Do I think I know what God’s plan is for me?  Why do I think I know what’s best for me?  Some of the worst things turn out wonderfully, and some great things turn out horribly.

As I’ve asked these and a thousand other questions during the fall of 2012, during the biggest struggles of my life, I’m faced with my liabilities of learning.  The fact that I was not ready for God’s greatest human connection, the fact that fear continues to influence my honesty, the fact that I’m a scared little boy sometimes.  My preparation was not thorough.  I was not ready to receive.  I was not fully ready to learn, love, accept, or give.

There are plenty of examples in my life.  The current ones loom large in God’s plan.  I was not prepared to accept my perfect mate, my perfect love.  I have not been prepared to write the book I’m currently working on.  I have not been prepared, nor has he, for Tommy’s second round of cancer.  I have not been prepared to support my sons, and live life as I once did.

God willing, with every turn, and every leaf, and every penny… I know I’m prepared for today because my ears and my heart are open and God’s lighting the way.  I’m willing to commit, I’m willing to be purely honest, I’m willing to clean up the past, I’m willing to be still.  I am ready for life, love, and the greatest joys which God presents to me.

Thank God!

Major Break… The Book Calls!

Tags

Atlantis, Giza, Great Pyramids, Mount Giza, Pyramid Theory, Writing

Fellow bloggers, friends, and dreamers,

I trust you’re riding the cloud to your dreams and nothing will ever stop you, even death. I’m taking an official break from blogging poems, essays, and what tickles my fancy for a specific purpose, writing the first book about my Great Pyramid research, Mount Giza-The Shaft Build, and its implications which promise to rewrite the whole of modern Man’s history.

I’ll post any additional media about the project when it becomes available. There will likely be a photo and text blog as my travels will take me to D.C., Giza, and points beyond.

The simplest way to stay informed, be inspired, and get involved is through twitter and Facebook on the left column, or our quarterly newsletter at www.mountgiza.com.

Peace,

Hemi, (D.A.), (Dave), (Me), (Imeh)

Romney Throws in the Towel!

Tags

2012, Campaign, Election, God, News, Obama, Romney, sex

“It’s official, SEX has won in Mankind’s greatest battle. With 3.1B website references SEX had defeated GOD, coming in a distant second with 1.8B website references. OBAMA makes a respectable showing with 806M… which just goes to show you, no matter how deceived we may be, our most shared and common interest is a good orgasm, forever ensuring harmony and world peace, here and hereafter! Upon this sound research, and with an eye toward the economy of our great nation I suggest, with only 303M website references, ROMNEY gets the towel.” That Guy.

My Gal

Tags

Love

Has love in her heart for most everyone.

Cares deeply for me.

Is a better woman because of me.

Tells me her deepest thoughts and fears.

Wouldn’t betray us for anyone.

Loves when people compliment me.

Lets me open doors for her.

Picks me up when I am down.

Doesn’t threaten to walk out on me.

Keeps her deep thoughts for me.

Dreams about our life together.

Fishes with me, whether we catch fish or not.

Reads to me.

Shares with me.

Tells me when she is hurt or mad with me.

Admits when she is wrong and changes it.

Loves to see me smile because it makes her happy.

Makes time for me cause she knows I need it.

Rubs my back every time I need it.

Whispers in my ear and on my nape.

Doesn’t ask me to read her mind.

Compliments my thoughts.

Walks with me not behind or ahead.

Wouldn’t risk losing me.

Let’s me put a ring on her finger.

Trusts me.

Holds me.

Hugs me.

Loves me best.

Wants to share her world with me.

Puts God first and me second.

Would call me so we can begin the healing.

***Plagiarized, stolen, borrowed, or just plain copied (with a few changes) from pattyrob96.wordpress.com.

At All Times…

Of indecision, pause, and ask for an intuitive thought or action… the right path will present itself if I am open to it and honest with myself.

Peace and love,

Me.

Dear Father

Tags

Love, Truth

This I pray, if today’s the last day.

Sway not your grace, eternal love.

Know my peace, surrender to you.

Let me be a channel, your shining light.

Hurt not your loving children, be kind.

Grant my dreams, your greatest gift.

Heal my heart, show your deepest love.

Spare my mind, your oldest gift.

Spare my body, the ills of comfort.

Spare my soul, burdens undone.

Twenty three years and counting.

 

 

My Meuse, Written 4/11/11

Tags

Love

• I remember a day, quite a special day indeed. The air was crisp and the night was dark, Orion peeked over my shoulder and the warmest touch greeted by hand, time and the stars stood still.
• She stopped my eyes and my heart every time I saw her. Afraid she’d look right through me and know my soul’s truth, I couldn’t look her in the eye the prior year, but now my light touch grazed her arm and the story was written, it was a fairy-tale.
• All I ever wanted was to be loved and understood, that’s not an easy task given who I am and how I think and what I demand. I’ve known loss and pain and conflict galore, peace was my only yearning I could no longer fight. She knew my mind. She made me want to be a great man, a better man, a real man. She stimulated all of me. Once again I knew love.
• Her story and her struggles and her pain understood me and loved me. Her gifts fired mine and her thoughts drew me in and her arm lit my life a blaze from that first touch. I walked slow and drank lots of water. I was part of a whole, a partner and a friend, a lover and a learner, a teacher and a listener, a dreamer and a poet, a writer and a joyful half of God’s blissful union. I was me and free and she kissed me.
• Goodbye my love, may God bless us both.

Day Dreaming

Tags

Love, Truth

Today is the first and the last.

One so split, space and time.

More ahead than behind, hope.

My purpose, my calling, fulfilled.

Forked roads left, maybe right.

Joy to share, love to spare.

Gifts to give, a want to live.

Today is now, tomorrow here.

 

Cher-ry

Tags

Love, Romance, sex, Young Love

Pretty little red bud,

Tingly bumps, a kiss.

Jutting hard stem.

Creased, rinsed clean.

Atop creamy vanilla skin,

Silky lost red Cherry.

Long Hard Winter

Tags

Love, Nature, Romance, Seasons, Spring, Winter, Young Love

Dreary dark snow on the last day of winter.

Storm after storm, wreckage upon wreckage.

The big ones and the little ones, all icy cold.

All is dead that once lived, the darkest dawn.

And then a single ray, one glimpse forward.

Winter is gone, this is the first day of spring.

The flowers bud, the birds are on their way.

Know the truth, see the sun, feel the heat.

The earth has spun, the warm has turned.

It’s a new day, a new dawn, life is ahead.

The long days, and longer nights are here.

Spring wetness, rainbows and fawns, glory all.

Thank God for winter storms, they bring spring!

I Wish I had the Blues

Tags

Blues, Death, God, Lyrics, Music, Songs, Suicide

Oh, I hear folks say, tomorrow’s another day,

Simple pleasures and simple tastes,

Simple comforts fade away,

Lord, I sure wish I had a clue.

Oh, I hear folks say, tickin’ time heals all,

Wasted nights and drunken days,

Sunken ships stand tall,

Lord, I sure wish I knew what’s true.

Empty smiles, and shifty eyes,

Hidden bottles, and morning shakes,

Absent gods, and blurry dreams,

Rocky streams, and seedy scenes.

Lord, I sure wish I had the blues.

Empty smiles, and shifty eyes,

Hidden bottles, and morning shakes,

Absent gods, and blurry dreams,

Rocky streams, and seedy scenes,

Lord, I sure wish, oh, I sure wish,

Lord, I sure wish I had the blues.

Oh, I hear folks pray, all their troubles wash away,

Simple pleasures and simple tastes,

Simple comforts fade away,

Lord, I sure wish I knew what to do.

Oh, I hear some say, tomorrow’s another day,

A simple rope, and simple chair,

My scribbled note the final play,

God, I sure wish I had the blues.

A Simple rope, and simple chair,

My simple life rocks and sways,

God, I sure wish I had the blues.

Lord, I’m sure glad you have the blues.

Drunken Palette Pleas

Tags

Alcohol, Alcoholism, Art, Colors, Craft, Creative Writing, Drinking, Oils, Painting, POETRY, Writing

Oh’ how long it’s been, a little sip, tease, or gulp please?

My core is dry, no drenching rain or tossing majestic sea.

No dusty bark, rich wheat or spotted fawn, all gone.

Bring sunshine, spraying waves, and blasting pigment.

Bold brick, smitten smoke, dancing dirt, or pious pea?

All these bring unto me, blended, smooth, rich, and wet.

Shimmering, shuddering, dabbed, and stroked, ever pure.

The cool ice, furious flux, darkest dark, or lightest light?

Won’t you try? Just this once? It’s alright… don’t cry.

Live a little, dream a bit, toward that cloth blow a kiss?

Free the bee, create the cloud, dance with dawn, live!

Mix the muse, thinner now, there you go feel the flow.

Pick em’ up, dry em’ off, careful now… that’s it, yes!

Cover me, just one squeeze, one last drink… please?

My first landscape… stick to writing!

You Must Tell Me

Tags

Baseball, Death, Fear, God, Love, Nature, The Human Condition, Truth

Who was God before writing?

Where do old baseballs go?

What makes death frightening?

What’s it like to be free?

Why are we slaves to image?

What’s it like to be blind and deaf?

What are the joys of poverty?

How does it feel to kill another?

Can we not just love each other?

How do you make rope?

Who cares for the butterfly?

Why does black licorice taste bad?

What’s it like to play the piano?

Why don’t we live in earthen caves?

How fast is fast enough?

What is a conversation?

How do we connect with others?

What’s to learn from devolution?

Is God the same after writing?

Where do old baseballs go?

Here Kitty-Kitty

Tags

Abuse, Animal Lovers, Animal Rights, Cats, Dogs, Domesticaion, Kittens

I guess it was the warmth, or maybe the food.

Perhaps predation, or maybe useless doors.

Whatever the cause, little fuzzy came in to stay.

Big ones, little ones, short hair, long hair, no hair.

The purring, and snuggling, and scratching in heat.

Who doesn’t love the little kitties, fancy, free, fun?

The way they clean, and lick, chase, pounce, play?

Never was there a reason, nor excuse to hurt a kitty.

Logical, and sufficient cause for domesticating dogs… .

Animals Belong Outside!

More…

Tags

Death, Fear, God, Love

Tell the tale, settle the score,

Jesus don’t want me anymore.

This waking fright, seize the night,

Jesus don’t love me anymore.

That subtle numb, a better high,

Mary won’t fuck me anymore.

Swinging roots, sharper lights,

Daddy won’t save me anymore.

Say hello, embrace my wicked soul,

My image won’t please me anymore.

The well is dry, it’s time to cry,

Shower your tears, oh’ just once more.

Mirrors lay, here to stay, spitting bit’s nay,

I just don’t trust me anymore.

The Rooms

Tags

Addiction, Alcoholism, Death, Peace, The Human Condition

The glossy black vinyl holds a thousand stories.

Every chair, plot and home to many a lost sot.

DT Timmy, Trailer Park Kathy, Easy Eddie, Captain

Apathy, and The Dusty Elders, eery voices now gone.

From barren lots come many a troubled tot,

Single file they march, ever boiled in life’s black pot.

To Do, or Not to Do?

Tags

Nature, Peace, POETRY, The Human Condition, Writing

Here it is, the day you’ve been waiting for.

There’s certainly no accounting for taste.

Cereal or eggs, milk or juice, toast, fruit?

There’s so much to do, so many choices.

A morning nap perhaps, a return to bliss?

A second pot of life’s black fuel, a third?

Should you shave, bathe, exercise, write?

Maybe paint, or help your friend, museum?

Does it really matter? It’s just another day.

Do or not, live or not, pick your forked path.

Explore a little, take both.

A Rose Arose

Tags

POETRY, Writing

Peter piper, and cool hand Luke,

not just another Father of rhymes.

Pick a patch of pickled peppers,

and spray your sexy sister Sun.

It’s a mote point, shallow diction fiction.

Gay plumbers wrench, their crack’s piped.

Boarders and smoker’s share the other half.

In the tense, that’s it, native language lives.

Old grey Maters, milky mammary mammals.

Choose your choices, loosen your voices and write.

A rose has no less arose from your thorns.

The Zipper

Tags

Carnivals, Clowns, Rides, sex, Vomit, Zippers

It stood out from the parking lot,

Standing tall, hiding the thrill, spinning.

A short line just left, you’re up next.

Ticket in hand, fear in your stomach.

There it is, you’re about to climb on.

Take your place, step inside, hold on.

Ever careful, slowly it starts, nauseous.

It’s damp inside, musty, and hot.

Use both hands, knees clinched, wait.

There you are, the two of you, tumbling.

Now you know what’s behind the zipper.

Zipper

No Gnews is Good Gnews

Tags

Addiction, Crime, Death, Fear, global warming, Materialism, News, PHILOSOPHY, POETRY, POLITICAL, Presidential Race, Smart Phones, Terrorism, The Human Condition, War, Writing

As Gary Gnu would most certainly agree, there’s nothing new in the news. In fact, there’s no news at all when it comes to politics, crime, poverty, war, and the state of all nations. It’s all been done before, and done, and done again and again, and if we wait patiently it will all repeat shortly. There’s simply no reason to pay attention to all the media hot air unless you’re a simple-minded acolyte hinged on the false choice of the day. Not so damaging, if it were only that simple. It appears there’s a much more sinister plot at work in the “if it bleeds, it leads,” broadcast philosophy, just follow the money…

What’s the end result of all the threats to our personal security? To what affect is the latest race, or crime stat, or global climate catastrophe? Just how influential is the next terrorist plot, or the unemployment numbers, or internet scam, or political scandal, or dead baby story?

A quick aside… one might think there are only two ways in which to govern a society, the only two “they” present, or that your children will undoubtedly be better off than you are if only you try really, really hard, or that your home should always increase in value, or that you should lock your doors, or that you should medicate yourself into numbness like your neighbor, adding that little pill now and then that keeps you erect. Heaven knows this is what we all need, a three-hour erection!

Pay your taxes, call your Mother on Sundays, work hard, vote, and bend over while the media and government plow your tight ass with another commercial promising instant material security and happiness in the land of the free and home of the brave. Acolytes unite! Your promise land is upon you! Ascend to the throne! Stuff your fat fucking face with one more snack, as you gag on the endless media cock you’re trained to crave. Yes I said trained!

This brings me to the sinister plot… why o’ why should anyone feel insecure, feel any need to horde, or buy, or spend, or chase the ever illusive material and emotional security? Why o’ why do we lock our doors? Why o’ why does consumer spending account for the greatest portion of our GDP? Why o’ why do we need one more fucking phone to talk with one more empty soul? The answer’s pretty simple, we’ve been conditioned into material and emotional dysfunction, we must buy and eat and steal and fuck and crave more of everything to satisfy the deep and lasting insecurity fostered by all that negativity and fear and loathing and murder and chaos and endless fucking news! If it bleeds, it leads… and if you watch, you will buy, and buy, and buy!

So, in conclusion… the media sells air time for a profit to the advertisers who sell the latest shit that nobody needs, and the media in turn creates the insecure environment in you that ensures that you’ll spend your last dying breath trying to fill the void they created, everybody’s happy! Even you, you stupid, dead fucker with an empty wallet!

Love Gary Gnu!

ADULT, Just Fuck Me Already

Tags

Fucking, Intercourse, Love, lust, Passion, sex

In the hall or at the mall, in the car, near or far.

I would not refuse your lustful eye, flickered flame.

With the dishes and life’s little niches, lay it on me baby.

Strong and hard, soft and tingly, our juices mingly.

Give it or take it, suck it or shake it, just fuck it.

In the morning or late, at the farm or on the gate,

Squirt and lick, bounce on this stiff member, fuck you!

Connect and merge, share the moment, blissful state.

Choking and stroking, submission and rape, open up.

Your must and your lust, your soft neck and hard bud.

Pant and rave, scream and crave, please just fuck me!

Betwixt

Tags

Nature, POETRY, Robins, Seasons, Self, The Human Condition, Trees, Wind

I guess it’s natural to want, to yearn for change.

Know thyself, no thyself… conditioned, separate.

If only I was like the trees, proud and rooted!

With not my wandering spirit, nor flighty thoughts.

Perch for all nests, and dotting every lower landscape.

If only I was like the birds, soaring and free!

The sky’s the limit, trusted flock, tweeting away.

Riding any breeze, the globe my lasting home.

I guess it’s natural… neither rooted nor free.

Moist

Tags

Dating, Love, lust, Passion, Romance, sex, Shyness, Young Love

Look away, quickly look away or she’ll know.

She’ll look right through me, know it all.

If only the lottery was so bountiful.

If only I could speak, I’d tell her aloud.

If only she’d look at me, I’d dare to stare.

If only… maybe next week, or the next.

I think she knows, maybe thinks the same.

Could it be? Does she see? It’s only me?

If only I knew… what she likes, who she is,

How she smells, how she feels, so moist.

Why o’ Why

Tags

PHILOSOPHY, POETRY, Writing

Do rocks think lesser of sand?

Might bananas wish to be straight?

Does sand think lesser of glass?

Is there unity in a box of crayons?

Do mirrors think lesser of me?

Isaac-Katrina Two, New Orleans the New Chernobyl

Tags

Chernobyl, Damage, damage forecast, French Quarter, Gulf Coast, Hurricane, Images, Isaac, Katrina Two, latest, Louisiana, New Orleans, News, storm path, Storm Surge, updates, Video, websites

As Katrina Two heads for New Orleans, one might wonder, how many people moved back to Chernobyl after 1986? You don’t have to look far for that answer… NONE!

How many times do we have to hear about the city below sea level and the thousands of suffering, through yet another encounter with a hurricane, to force a change? I guess at least one more time…

Katrina Due

Mack the Cabby

Tags

Cab Ride, God, Life, Love, New York, PHILOSOPHY, The Human Condition, travel, Truth, vacation

He wasn’t always this way, times has its affect.

If you want to know, just ask Mack, he’ll always share.

At the pool every day, gliding through life’s river,

Or opening his door, or on his knees, Mack knows.

Death and birth, Mack’s seen it, travel and culture,

Mack lives it, inquiry his greatest tool, open ears-two.

I hope you have a Mack, one who smiles always,

One who understands all, one who inspires thought,

One who’s lost and won every battle, every breath,

One who’s never threatened, never jealous, courageous,

And free to be himself, owing to the greatest Master.

If you have a chance, if you’re open, if you’re lucky,

Maybe you can afford Mack’s fare, take that ride!

Seamster

Tags

Art, Craft, Seamstress, Sewing, Singer, Stitches, Upholstery

Shortly following the acquisition of flint and making rope and finding a suitable mate, likely just before a well deserved nap, Man sews. Long before sowing and suing, with perhaps a faint soughing, Man sews for warmth, for survival. Hides joined, boots and hats, blankets and pillows, tents and canoes, water vessels and baskets, Man sews or Man dies.

From the Cushing, to the Everting, to the Connell, and lock stitch sutures, Man sews or Man dies. Dead and dried, or living and bleeding, hides must be joined, sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly. Cast your flint and unwind your rope, without linking stitch to stitch all would be lost.

With every step we sow, we’ve sewn. Every weld owes to a greater master, the stitch. Our fine linens and down filled niceties, and our shade coverings, and our luxurious seats, and our canvas sails, and the Wright wing, and our shelter, and our fans, and our dresses and pants, the undergarments of life are all sewn. All wrongs, and all torn cloth mended, we laugh in stitches, are linked by chains, moored by ropes, and joined together in the fabric of life by carefully placed and lasting seams.

Lay warm and still, walk surely and slowly, carry and drink plenty of water, and ride the wind to tomorrow, but never forget the sharp and skillful needle of the Sewer, to them we owe our life.

Thanks Uncle Joe and Mike!

Wolf

Tags

Ancient History, Archeology, Egyptian Revolution, Egyptology, Giza, God, History, News, PHILOSOPHY, Pyramid Theory, Religion, The Great Pyramid, The Human Condition, Truth, World News

Really, I get it! I know it’s late, and I know you’ve heard it a thousand time, and I know you’re very busy chasing life’s comforts, and I know time is short, and I know your inbox is full, and I know you’re tired, and I know you’re preoccupied, and I know you didn’t ask for this, and I know we’ll die soon enough, but before we go, I have just one thing to say. Man’s history, 5,000 years worth of it, is nothing like what you’ve been told, WOLF!!

Ignorance is now an option! Judge for yourself, www.MountGiza.com

Names, Stones, and Sticks

Tags

Death, Fear, God, PHILOSOPHY, POETRY, The Human Condition, Truth

Free lunch!  Free advice!  We’re here to help you!

You’re a winner!  The American dream!  Virtuous Man!

Be a dentist, be a plumber, get educated!  Dream big!

Be secure, be comfortable, be peaceful, just like Mike!

80 year fixed rate!  Buy, own, sign here, thank you!

Your vote counts, the greater good, peace keepers.

Philanthropist, do-gooder, lawyer, elected official.

Shared burden, equity, for our children’s sake!

Overnight success, hero’s welcome, die with honor!

Our best and brightest, the chosen ones, ego whores!

Do your part, citizenry, public good, societal conscience.

Work hard, live well, lock your door, pay your dues, be afraid.

Don’t sin, be kind, don’t lie, be good, live forever!

Nah-nah-nah-na boo-boo!  Be careful what you hear…

 

Don’t Spit on the Sidewalk

Tags

Freedom, Governance, laws, ordinance, rules, sociology

Sit up, pay attention, live and die, pay your taxes.

No passing, speed limits, ordinance upon duty, chained.

Contracts, fear, locked doors, stolen, robbed, mugged.

Buckle up, suit up, shut up! Call Mom, vote early, often.

Crime, news, war, starving children, beaten women.

White collar crimes, victims all, sickness in silence.

No dumping, no burning, no hitch-hiking, no loitering.

No intent, no offense, no truth, no worries, no problem.

No running, no standing, no cameras, no feeding… just no.

Know slavery, know death, know chains, know rules.

Know masters, know your place, know limits, know God.

No gum, no sodomy, no stopping, no going, no left turn.

No u-turn, know freedom, no spitting on the sidewalk.

Quotes IV

Tags

Micro Muse

Thank God we don’t know how sick we are!

Those that can should, those that can’t should try anyway.

The only necessary motive to cross a river is to be in one’s presence.

Control is an illusion.

Mine, hunt, fuck, nap.

Pain and suffering are natural.

Life’s not for pussies.

Traffic and weather are a fool’s chatter.

Ideas are the only eternal things, try to kill one!

Only small people are threatened by another’s expression.

Pure Democracy is the only form of self governance.

Geography, not sociology drove representative Democracy.

Devolution holds the key to self knowledge.

Mine, fish, fuck, nap.

Of power and influence, better to take a nap.

Of true leadership, there’s only risk, absent all reward.

Of sex, better before a nap.

Of food, better before sex.

Of shelter and fire, better before food.

Of naps, better between sex, shelter and fire.

Better to act originally from an unoriginal thought than not act at all.

Most speak to serve themselves.

A blind soul will find one claiming a positive or selfless motive.

Human virtue is a wishful myth fostered by those wanting to hide its falsehood.

Only the most powerful governments burn books.

Of secrets, only those with something to lose have them.

Icicles and Igloos

Tags

Winter

The virgin blanket swallowed my boots,

Quickly, the mound grew, packed solid,

Hot and cold, sweaty brow and wet gloves.

A tunnel in, no way out, two brothers dig.

 

 

Would that I Could

Tags

Fear, God, Love, Nature, PHILOSOPHY, POETRY, The Human Condition

Be purely myself, free of my impression on you.

Say all that I want to say, act on every last dream.

Give that I might not receive, my ego’s crushing death.

Breath freely, look keenly, touch electrically, sleep while awake.

Inspire the hopeless, reveal frauds, starting with me.

Be naked always, live eternally, convince myself not.

Meet other’s needs, think free, write without conflict.

Stay on track, walk slow, drink lots of water, turn to God always.

Hot 2 the Onyx

“And today you will lose.”

“That’s what you said yesterday.”

“How long shall we do this?”

“You’re getting tired, I knew it?”

“I bring my being to this fight, everyday, I never tire.”

“That’s what you said yesterday.”

“Quit babbling, I’m ready for you. I know your game.”

“Ah, but tomorrow there will be nothing left of you.”

HELP!!

Tags

Addiction, Alcoholism, Death, Drugs, Fear, Love, PHILOSOPHY, Romance, Self, The Human Condition, Truth, Writing

And all at once everything they’d been saying made perfect sense, the only problem with the world is that there are mirrors. As long as it was them, I was okay, justified, blameless. And then it wasn’t, they are just perfect, it’s all me, every last bit of conflict centered on me.  I had caused it all.

I had hoed the earth, I had housed the seeds, I had dug the hole, ever so deep. Without light, I knew not how deep it was, a wooden box the only thing missing, now what?

They didn’t give me the shovel, I chose it. They didn’t choose the plot, I had groomed it. They didn’t get me in, they can’t get me out. It’s not their fault.

The darkness fell in, the dirt fell in, stank pungent mud consumed me. I looked and could not see, I screamed but could not be heard, I begged, but they were already gone. Alone in my hole, the surface near a distant star. Time to put down the shovel and wait to be saved. I’m so, so sorry.

Muskylounge6801

Tags

Friendship, Musky Hunting

For you I would die, for you I would live.

For you I have cried, for you I have longed.

You came to me, and I came to you, destined.

You showed me kindness, friendship, love.

We fished and fucked, danced and fought.

Floating in our raft, your joy was my joy.

Together eh’, Canada Day, Musky Rock, Woods Bay.

Twenty years, no stories untold, purely honest.

Our Dads gone, and sweet Josh to, Lucy lives.

My marriage, your marriage, our kids so dear.

Dearest friend, Jeff, I love you with all my being.

Three in a boat, hooked baits flyin’, I’ll swim back.

2+2=151

Tags

Math, Numbers, Sleep

Stirring still, the big sleep only breaths away,

The integers unfold, wrapping around each other.

Golden, radius, circumference, light years, force,

Speed, mass, dancing numbers certain, exact.

Quantifiable, reliable, provable, measurable these,

But what of all other things? Answered in numbers?

151 I seem to like, prime it is, primal fear for sure, why?

We count, we sing, we trade, we sleep and wake by these.

Slave to these, silly flesh, it’s almost time, calendar’s fool.

We multiple, we divide, we conquer, add and subtract.

The Sun is down and I am up, count sheep perhaps?

Quotes, III

Only through darkness can one truly see, and once immersed, have captured the sounding waves, and buried, have felt the true pulse and breath of yearning, and dead, know all that was to be learned, successful or not.

Energy is our commerce, received in kind, negative or positive, what is your’s to be?

To be just born or near death is to be free from fear, the rest of us are fucked.

A life is well lived to the extent I do not harm others or harm myself.

If you pass up pennies, you’ll soon realize how much you need them.

Trust fully the God that takes care of butterflies.

A sad and useless life will find us choosing only left or right at each turn.

Pleasures are death’s illusion.

Silly flesh, grass and trees, do as you do, and be as you be.

To stay is to never return, to go is to know.

What was God doing before the beginning, before the first day? Napping?

If this is your last day, don’t be so surprised!

All things truly worthwhile plot their own course, little guidance, but plenty of nurturing is required.

The true masters of order in life’s chaos are certainly Librarians.

Writing and the Magic Can of Soup

Tags

PHILOSOPHY, The Human Condition, Writing

It’s been nearly ninety years since the introduction of alphabet soup, produced for our curious feasting pleasure by both the Campbell and Heinz families. I mention this in comparison to the chaotic arrangement of my efforts toward order with the written, or spoken, or theatrical word, in all its messy creation, with all that drooping disingenuous tomato sauce, the danger of the sharp-edged can, the encrusted goop that sticks to the stirring spoon while heating, the tangy and uninviting aftertaste left on my tongue, and the fleeting satisfaction after consuming such madness, only to immediately return seeking another mouthful of the same maligned mash of cursed phonetic symbols.  Why perform such madness, what’s its meaning?  Are there not plenty of other meals for the body, mind, and the creative soul?

Long after cat and dog and run and green eggs, shortly after Mississippi, just when I’ve had my little fun, the plastered pasta rimming the bowl, a challenge ensues to explore some four letter words, to imagine and break the rules.  After all, I’m not actually saying those words, I’m just arranging the letters, right?  Each limit reached produces yet another in this lifelong quest.  This much runs through my mind with every breath and observation, with each peering glance at the bowl of life’s soup.

How cool is it eat and learn?  Cannot the same exercise occur with living? Can-not we fuck and learn?  Shit and learn?  How might this learning turn into written words?  Words of truth, and lies, words of peace and lusts, is not our life’s treatise smashed between the spoon and the bowl?  I think simple notes or clay or paint or mime might be better comfort, more fulfilling, easier, less fucking complicated, a far more satisfying meal, like candy canes, and sushi, or an ornamental salad?  Nope, my lot is this simple can of wayward letters, usually red, threatening to slash a vein, burning my mouth, spattered into a purely white bowl with no direction, no master, no history or birth, no instructions, no limits, no end, no arrangement, worse yet, no audience.

By its consumption, and by its exploration, the very act cannot squelch the need to engage, smitten by the obsessive hunger, I return, over, and over, doomed to satisfy an urge that shall never be satisfied.  Perhaps its time for a game of Bananas, Scrabble?  Maybe after lunch…

Put Your Ass in the Seat!

This I Plead

Tags

Fear, God, Love, Nature, Peace, POETRY, Self, The Human Condition, Truth

And for my two sons,

As you command the movement of the stars,

And the great tides and love the butterfly,

Holiest of Gods, carrier of burdens, I plead with you in all our connection,

And in all my experienced grace and in all my submission to your universe,

That you please take this pain from me and let me walk in peace,

Drinking from your eternal spring of serenity and surety, that my heart be peaceful,

That my mind be clear, that my actions fulfill your purpose of my life,

That your children might know the same comfort and connection I would give to my two boys in the coming days if I could,

A connection that they must do without, but have faith in, that their days might be sound and graceful,

That they might turn to you rather than to me.

Keep them with you, touch their hearts and their lives in momentous ways so they might see and know,

Reveal yourself to them in the calm of the sunrise, and the collection of the birds,

Speak to them through their dreams, in the moments of clarity,

And their moments of joy, and in their loving relationships,

Have them turn to you in strife and doubt, and to you with gratitude and thanks.

Me

Aaron and Brandon

Let Me Introduce You…

Tags

Love, Nature, Peace, Self, The Human Condition

To someone you met a long, long time ago.

You may not remember too well, time flies.

They have no need to tell you they’re honest.

They’d rather be who they are than talk in circles.

They understand without explanation, all acts.

Your worry and self image is foreign to them.

They like blocks and dolls and painting and dreaming.

They might chase you around and sneak a kiss.

They make snow angels, and lay in the grass.

They go barefoot, and look at magic cloud shapes.

Without your scars and bloody wounds, they’re soft.

Food, water, clothing, and shelter are all they need.

They play in the dirt and climb in trees, skip too.

They whistle, hold hands, and will sit on your lap.

Glad you remember, might be a good hero for you.

How long has it been since you lost a tooth?

Before

Tags

Nature, PHILOSOPHY, The Human Condition

Before now, then, another now.

Before self, me, or I, all things joined.

Before thought, and pulse, pounding sound.

Before sand, rock, then sand before that.

Before ebooks, pulp, text, grunts, red ochre.

Before the beginning, there was an end.

Before death, life, and changing thoughts.

Before certainty, uncertainty, certainty.

Before the ice, water, and vapor.

Before the pain, growth, and pain again.

Before what’s next, now, was… tick, tick, tick…

The One

Tags

Fear, Love, PHILOSOPHY, The Human Condition, Truth, Writing

As I heard, been told, and looked,

There might be only one that is write.

One that will listen to everything I say,

One that will let me be me, love me.

One that will let me lie, and let me lay.

One that will take all the love, and rage.

One to turn to first, last, and forever.

One that lusts after my mind, crazy love.

One that does not fear, but accepts all.

One for sobs, and blood, and wounds.

One for now and all time, permanent love.

There was, there is, there must be just one.

Void of all need, void of all jealousy, all fear.

Perfect, sweet, purely white, purely write.

Doesn’t take, doesn’t need, nor interfere.

Ah, I know this one, I’ve met her, loved her.

She is with me now, she is naked to me.

Ready to listen, ready to love, ready to enthrall.

I touch her here and there, milking her white.

My mind is erect, my soul exposed, truth be told.

Fight or flight, white is right, go now, write, just write.

Mrs. Robinson

Chilly air warming heart, the morning start.

Simon I think, spoke of her… the One.

Tuesday I think, spun tightly eternal.

One breath, one night, one kiss more.