i thank you god for most this amazing day

and by "god" i mean "you"
xoxo

stepping up to twenty-ten

thank you uriel, thank you jennifer hoffman

day nine - Accept

These past few years may have given us many reasons to doubt others' sincerity, love, integrity and commitment to us. We have to see others as they are before we can understand why we need to release them to find their own path and power, without our support, guidance and assistance. These can be bitter pills to swallow and leave us hurt, angry and sometimes resentful. Acceptance is one way in which we express unconditional love to others, and that means accepting them as they are, without judgment.

For today, give someone the gift of acceptance. See them as they are, acknowledge the value and healing of their journey, and allow them to follow it, no matter what it is, knowing it is right for them. See them as perfect, whole and complete, exactly as they are at this moment.

Because they are, and so are you.

day eight - Acknowledge Yourself

When the healing we extend to others who reject it we feel the pain on many levels. When life does not turn out as we want, we think we are unworthy. On an emotional level we feel powerless. Spiritual, we think our contracts are incomplete. Our mission is to bring light to the world and even if it takes a day, month or longer for the results to appear, we do move the energy and the results will manifest with divine timing. We can extend the healing by acknowledging our ourselves, no matter what appears to be happening around us. Recognize that you do the best you can, in every situation.

For day, acknowledge yourself as the teacher, healer, student and powerful being that you are. Everything you do is successful, every aspect of your being is important to your own mission of healing, growth and transformation. Find joy in the light and love you bring to the world. This is what you are here to do, for yourself and for humanity. Acknowledge each step on your journey because each one is equally important. No matter how much others do or do not accept you, acknowledge yourself a powerful, divine being who is worthy of acceptance. Release those who reject you and the healing you offer them, acknowledge their path and be at peace knowing that you have done the best you could and the rest is up to them.

day seven - Love

Love is what we all seek and too often we do not find it. We all have experiences of betrayal, abandonment and pain that can make us believe that we are not worthy of love, or that love is for others and not for us. No matter what has happened to us, we are worthy of love and whatever pain we have been through has been part of our own healing, and that of those we connect with. Our greatest and most powerful teachers are those who cause us the most pain and every experience contains a blessing.

Today, consider the most unlovable person in your life, the one who has caused you the most pain, and send them unconditional love. This is how you release them and yourself from whatever karma you have between you. Now send that same love to yourself because you deserve it and are worthy of it. Send love to everyone around you, all of the time. Become a source of love and light for others and it will be returned to you.

day six - Appreciate

In our work to heal ourselves and the world we can become so involved in the healing process and vested in the outcome that we take do not recognize the blessings that come to us every day. We believe we could have done more, faster, better, been more careful, observant or simply known better and this ignores the blessings of every step on our path. In order to be the light and love for the world, we have to begin with loving ourselves and our perfection and acknowledge the blessings we have.

For today, recognize one or more blessings in your life and appreciate them. They may be as basic as having food to eat, clean water, a safe place to sleep, and financial security. These are things you take for granted but for many people, these are luxuries. Your lessons are blessings too, although they may not feel that way, so be grateful for the learning and healing they gave you. Be grateful for each thing in your life, appreciate the joys and sorrows, the opportunities to learn which bring understanding. Make appreciation a daily practice and watch your blessings multiply.

day five - Intention

Intention is everything. It creates the energy for whatever is going to manifest for us. We set intentions for healing and then are surprised when our life is full of healing opportunities. Why not set an intention for joy, abundance, love and success? Setting an intention is how we create energetic openings for what we want to manifest in our life.

For today, set your intention for the wonderful things you want to create in 2010. Be bold, daring, courageous and outrageous. Set your intention for what you want, instead of what you think you can have. Remember that the Universe works with you, not for you. Set your intention for the biggest, most wonderful life experience you can imagine and then invite the Universe to surprise you with something better.

day four - Claim your Creativity

We think of creative people as those who create art or music, who write, knit, cook or sew. Creativity is not limited to what you can do with your hands, it is what you are and the way you create your reality. Each of us is creative, we are all creators and we use these abilities every day. Every aspect of your life is something you have created. You have a choice to be stuck in it, if it is something you do not like, or create something different.

For today, claim your creativity. You are a co-creator with Source and the earth is your canvas. What do you want your little piece of the earth to look like? It is in your hands and heart to create the life of your dreams. So create something wonderful and then enjoy the manifestation of your creative power.

day three - Move the Energy

Energy is a constantly moving force that surrounds us with the opportunity to create an unfolding reality. When we are flowing with this energy we feel energized, excited and have many opportunities available to us. When we are stuck, the energy stagnates and we feel depressed, sad and anxious. The energy is trying to move and we are in the way.

For today, move some energy. It is stuck because you have stopped moving forward in some area of your life. If you do not know where to start, begin with your physical environment. Clean a closet, straighten your desk, give away something that holds memories you no longer want to keep, give away things you no longer want or need. In your emotional environment, make a list of the emotions you want to be present in your life and set your intention on them. Pay attention to your thoughts and when the negative ones come up, replace them with something positive. Stay focused on moving the energy and it will flow in your life.

day two - Disconnect

Hidden within our energetic being are multitudes of cords that connect us to emotions, beliefs, thoughts, experiences and people. Everything you encounter in your life has an energetic connection to you. The cords that are based in fear siphon energy away from you. The ones that are grounded in love return energy to you. Fear-based cords are activated when it is time to disconnect and release them. This is a choice point for an important decision, do you return the emotion in kind or do you disconnect from it?

Each person who pushes your buttons is activating a cord you share with them. Instead of responding to them with your own fear, connect to your inner guidance and ask what cordis being activated and the lesson it corresponds to.Then set a conscious intention to disconnect the cord from that person, to send them unconditional love and see them in their perfection. As you disconnect from this energetic level, you allow the possibility for a connection at a higher vibration.

For today, practice disconnecting from every energy you do not want to be part of your life in 2010. Send love and light to the cords that bind you to fear and release them to complete those lessons. Set an intention for relationships and experiences that honor, enlighten, fulfill, respect and shower you with love.

dock of the bay

buildings scrape for the first time again in some time
and piano players strum guitar with their cases lined with red velvet
and please, god bless.
what is it here that isn't anywhere else
that harvey and lawrence and jerry saw and ate.

haight-ashbury lined with sweaters, piercings and park
offering buds every time you look at anyone's eyes.
muir forest with reds and greens and earth so thick with life.
wharf markets and whole foods and poets shouting at traffic lights.

i saw a lady with a wheel chair lined with cats with slitted eyes.
she was asking for money and giving political advice.
lebanese coffee shops, buddha statues
hills looking into misted mountains with bridges and night shaded brothers.

you know where I am and i want you to find me.
everyone else kisses my neck but doesnt smell like you
or look into my eyes, touching slightly in conversation
as you play your truth about how to save your self, messiah.

you may always be there for now but i made to meet you blessing.
and mariners will be as they are until in light we can answer cryptic
harvests together, committed.

skeptic

it was not supposed to be and then it was
and then it was marvellous or incredible
but you would say, perhaps,
it was just as long as it was now.

you helped me realize that you should only continue past the destination
when you can taste the wonders there
and this is where the magic is, and pizza.
you do what you do understanding the stark necessity:
sons, or marriage, or business proposals;
cocktail parties for god's sake
(and i say this in sensitivity).
i know i share a moment with you
and laughing created and space
through space
and if i read something that awes me;
see breathtaking;
you may know about it
or never, but the me that was you then,
with you then,
will then know.

Inter-Continental

when the reins are surrendered
taking adamence with them in leather
it still drops
and the dust displaced
is incensual gravity.
the lore is beauty
if the eye beholds
and in this dimension of buzzing quiet
you will feel all that you know.

Orange and green were once the only color
and we are African
but the mind realized what it could do to hide us,
limping through reality.
and apples taste like floury apples
until it is just an apple
giving its talons.

patience is a virue

virtue is a grace

grace is a little girl who wouldnt wash her face

the f**k it way

so i guess being in the flow is saying f**k it

and where does that take you
to a yummy slab of fair trade chocolate without any guilt
or to a street art income
which is a still an income
and you'll eventually get to india

i drink eight glasses of water
i smile and say thank you when i feel to

and where does that get me

still wanting something i think i need
whether or not its money, food, sex or things

and then

f**k it

i'll give it a try
or at least try and remember to

what harm could it be
a few hail mary's
(or is that hail maries).

maybe we could remind each other
and halve the responsibility
or double it

and where would that get us

together at least

are we human, or are we dancer

another week gone like a train you cant catch, or a flight to your sister's wedding that leaves while you're stuck at jfk (snow delay).
another card pulled, relationship, answering a question in a bizarre esoteric advising that i may never grasp.
another chapter of doing nothing but being so preoccupied, pointless right.

when you finally know
be it where to go
who to love
what to fucking contribute to this existence
whatever is sitting at the controls likes to cocktail things up a bit
and throw meteors and mountains, and red seas, at your heart

the storm rolled in during drosha and the sky turned a incriminating black.
winds pushed us toward the smells of shabbes and just as we neared the birds were released cleansing us silly in ecstatic sparkle and skin hugging clothes. ah

disillunsionment with yourself must precede enlightenment
well thank you

labour of love

and so you are there
when the tornado swirls around knocking everything you think you love off its kilter and you remain still

when the dogs are barking and your assignment is due and the racket is a pure orchestration of peace

incorporation of nothingness

remember, yes?

to be, in love

The speckles in the sky
Want nothing else but you
So soon
But yet can’t wait
A guilt almost worth it.
United seems too desirous
Too now
Too pleasing
To wait for right
And respect in You.
Lessons tease
Emotion and ecstasy.
I’ve forgotten and long for teaching
But how can so many hours
Be hummed in passion
When emptying is now
And impulsive.
This is what it means
To be
In love

to be, continued

As much as my mind governs senses
To keep me following numbed
That I that is, that am,
Creates moments of reconnect.
Seen and Saw
Victory only comes after battle
And I wonder if peace is a constant goal
Or where it just is.

I know where is best for I
And all I need
Is constant redevotion
To develop desire
Of place, of people
Of this ONE.

since we swang

Naming comes again but this
I haven’t been able to explain for too long
And don’t want to ever again.
Lost is living
And freedom from the saddled racetrack.
I want to rock on my feet
With my life balancing on my head
And my love flitting around me.
My floating.
This is it
And wherever Ed may find me.

The mosquitoes buzz without landing
Making music in the croaking night.
My cold feet remind me of the ground
And rubies touch gently down
But I forever stare at the skies
Which have become my home
And am the bliss that follows me.

People can read and scoff in fear
Or disbelief which I agree
But this INABILITY has engulfed me
With Mine
And fingers web connecting.
There is no more beginning nor end
But simple NOW
And simply nice.
The pen is propriety
The Power of Know
Is Yes.

evening aarti

The ground shimmers
And tearing my gaze I’m surrounded
By hued shadows
Interrupted by electricity.
The wind roars deafening –
I am embraced by It and crickets.
My shoes squeak and kick soil
As my right foot sickles outward a little.

Boys played cricket on the train-tracked field
To the sun’s setting
And bicylcle bystanders.

I left them now as I left them then
Mezmerized in pages of dates and photographs.
The mosquitoes threaten now
And nets are pulled
Before hair is brushed
And soiled clothes folded neatly.

it had to be you

I no longer crave isolation,
Regeneration alone.
I long for your harmony
For your hands and your sigh
And the wondrously moulded puzzle peace
You keep tied to your heart.
I finally found truth
After wandering and parched.
This is home and abundance.
What magic is budding
And extending its nectar
For little hungry pollinators
To spread further than we can dream.
Infinity is possible
Divinity is proof.

שמע ישראל יה אלוהנו יה אחד

the silence after is exhausted
Following crescended chaos
it lingers tingling
as matted bodies slow breath
and shiver from aftershock
stiffened to move.
the skin is red as divinity strikes surface
and from this, everything.
pleasure is exeriencing eden,
a paradise lost in lie,
fear and poison.
can the act of making love sustain
truth
xoxo

from where doth inspiration come?

the vanilla page bleats

clacking heels swagger along grouted tile
strangers neck behind a mustard umbrella
verbs nag in present tense
and this will be another classic.

i think id write something like this:
please understand the passage of life
the breath, the metabolism
with its emotions
and that somehow
there was no space for this there
and there seemed no better resolution.

some things are dangerous
like being a hermit
and expecting to one day have a good conversation
or to be a romantic
and to think love wont break your heart

so its a thinking that drives insanity
and some are just better foolers than others.
was something not switched on
that i still dont remember they'll never change
and probably neither will eye

and working from up till down keeps some people
feeling like they're making a contribution.

what if i stopped all of a sudden
and let everything just happen
regardless of consequence or desires.
would i turn orange
or start to sprout?

am i not doing something right?

get a fucking clue

namaste ji

(via ache)

pray for peace

Pray to whoever you kneel down to:
Jesus nailed to his wooden or marble or plastic cross,
his suffering face bent to kiss you,
Buddha still under the Bo tree in scorching heat,
Adonai, Allah, raise your arms to Mary
that she may lay her palm on our brows,
to Shekinhah, Queen of Heaven and Earth,
to Inanna in her stripped descent.

Hawk or Wolf, or the Great Whale, Record Keeper
of time before, time now, time ahead, pray. Bow down
to terriers and shepherds and siamese cats.
Fields of artichokes and elegant strawberries.

Pray to the bus driver who takes you to work,
pray on the bus, pray for everyone riding that bus
and for everyone riding buses all over the world.
If you haven't been on a bus in a long time,
climb the few steps, drop some silver, and pray.

Waiting in line for the movies, for the ATM,
for your latté and croissant, offer your plea.
Make your eating and drinking a supplication.
Make your slicing of carrots a holy act,
each translucent layer of the onion, a deeper prayer.

Make the brushing of your hair
a prayer, every strand its own voice,
singing in the choir on your head.
As you wash your face, the water slipping
through your fingers, a prayer: Water,
softest thing on earth, gentleness
that wears away rock.

Making love, of course, is already a prayer.
Skin and open mouths worshipping that skin,
the fragile case we are poured into,
each caress a season of peace.

If you're hungry, pray. If you're tired.
Pray to Gandhi and Dorothy Day.
Shakespeare. Sappho. Sojourner Truth.
Pray to the angels and the ghost of your grandfather.

When you walk to your car, to the mailbox,
to the video store, let each step
be a prayer that we all keep our legs,
that we do not blow off anyone else's legs.
Or crush their skulls.
And if you are riding on a bicycle
or a skateboard, in a wheel chair, each revolution
of the wheels a prayer that as the earth revolves
we will do less harm, less harm, less harm.

And as you work, typing with a new manicure,
a tiny palm tree painted on one pearlescent nail
or delivering soda or drawing good blood
into rubber-capped vials, writing on a blackboard
with yellow chalk, twirling pizzas, pray for peace.

With each breath in, take in the faith of those
who have believed when belief seemed foolish,
who persevered. With each breath out, cherish.

Pull weeds for peace, turn over in your sleep for peace,
feed the birds for peace, each shiny seed
that spills onto the earth, another second of peace.
Wash your dishes, call your mother, drink wine.

Shovel leaves or snow or trash from your sidewalk.
Make a path. Fold a photo of a dead child
around your VISA card. Gnaw your crust
of prayer, scoop your prayer water from the gutter.
Mumble along like a crazy person, stumbling
your prayer through the streets.

- ellen bass

adam kadmon - prime evil man

if ever i see you again
know that i will love you like i did
and i do
even though this time has passed
and i have broken many teacups
and eaten many jelly beans.
because when i remember you
and i remember so rarely now
the same strangeness heats my neck
and my chest
like a sling shot taut.
but what has grown is the puzzle
and as each peace is fit
pictures clarify.
maybe when you are old
you will tell me why it hurt
or why we needed to pass notes through a thicken wooden door
and kiss with our eyes closed
ah our lips
and feeling as if this was everything
and your loving me
even if we didnt know what it was
and opening my mind
like a video game
i thought youd have killed yourself by now
and i cried for you when you did
i liked being you
and waiting
and talking in the rain
and bicycles
and fitting just right in all the wonder places
your breathing
fingertips
it is good to remember
sometimes

lychees, shehech

unwrapping christmas
no, birthday. only you of importance.
apprehension, expectation
sweetness, sweltered

no. 254 keep it simple

what. economically. socially. emotionally. poetically.
festively?

it comes to the Question again and again.
the attempt to break down the movements into concise, scheduled explanations
the inability to, or wavering from, just

if i had a field of poppies
id scream
id scream
and exhausted
id collapse and make a wish

have the chemicals expired
the -onins and -anols

are you really fucking listening
faryn, can you hear me
can you me, faryn

like alice coming out of the maze of cards

the song plays over and over in my head
and i can tell you its playing
but you cannot hear it
unless we sing it together

who is we
and when we will find

i am alone in this
you are alone in this
and we are - two -
too

words...

i met a girl from portugal
i loved the way words rolled off her tongue
she could have been speaking about the traffic
and i could have closed my eyes and heard orchestras playing

i wonder how the resonance sounded in her head
and if my pee's and queue's sounded as cascasive

the days open confusingly
with no desk to meet at eight
or class to ride to (mmm)

it is mine
and that scares me
it scares me that they seem wasteful
uneventful
and defensive

here in the coccoon of pollutes

give me the strength
or the drug
to accept the things
and the wisdom
indifferent

the moon isnt full, im not bleeding
but im here
i hear
and the rains have come

i want to remember that now is all there is
whether i use that or dont
to make every now
and not just have every now

im learning greed
and shame

love comes within this
love can be anything
nailpolishes, incense, apples

heat

im learning anger
discomfort

survival

and this all came from my first lychee

narcissus

Life work/life project in sepia has begun
making my way through the sefirot
malchus - songs of life, love, questions
do i look like this. mirror series
facing. healing. mastering. overcoming.


You is all
is everything
is everywhere
Gone is here
or how to let you know
in paradise
is frolicked
in breeze is eyes
reality is everthing

in distraction
in truth
in realization
in me
is you


if you know why arent you looking
if you care why arent we hooking up
its been time, im waiting
to meet this life we're fated

every morning the sun rises to my empty bed
funny thing is it does to yours too

all i know mr who is i love you

how can i love someone ive never met
how can i be so sure if you wont connect
so many questions
so many rhymes
so many shivers
its only time

all i know mr who, i know who, i do
i love you


how do you love
how do you care
how do you make this world better

when do you dance
when do you smile
when do you brink yours and mine

i need you
you need you
and you know, and you know and you know
pick up the beat
manage the heat
and we'll grow and we'll grow and we'll grow

when the fruit is ripe it falls
why need you choose so painfully
accept your genius and say what you think
what your heart thinks great, is great

baked night shade

if it was 1928
would i be complaining?
would i be so shocked when i woke up
and everything was still the same?

i love the way cocoa just doesnt mix when added to milk

"it's so good, i hate myself"

what is the pattern in who gets leukemia
or who wins the lottery
or who flips his car while texting
whose father runs off with his secretary
and who sets world records
who loses her job
and who gets addicted to heroin
who finds his soul mate on the subway
and who becomes a widower on his honeymoon
who gets the promotion
and who gets messages from the angels
who has a good relationship with her mother-in-law
and who becomes allergic to seafood
who finally quits smoking
and who discovers the cure for aids
who is assasinated and matyred
and who chokes on pizza cheese
whose computer crashes
and who takes really good photographs
whose dog runs away
and who loses his son in the war
who reads this
and who glances
who decides to hijack that car
and who gives the beggar some slack
who gets a bad haircut
and who finally finds the perfect couch
who rips his favorite pair of pants
and who wins a nobel peace prize
who gets the window seat
and which fish takes the bait
who gets caught in the rain
and who is the hundredth caller
who gets a speeding ticket
and who finds her tribe
who's listening to all six billion thoughts
and making sure the sun rises on time?

earth air fire water ether

its when i dont look that i feel beautiful
and everything is from a space behind
and not reflected.

i understand now it takes more than a week --
and throbbing and understanding --
to be ready to leave again
but then moving with something
that seems pure and completed
and owned, and if youre lucky even mastered.

i find it easier to catch things
and to see irate rising and refuse.
i dont need to be doing anything
for anybody
i need to be, i am a human be-ing of course
last i checked.

are you listening?

it fucking grates me that it takes so long
but then i sit like you suggest
and i take a breath and it helps me to smile
and i do and it is really from my stomach.


i dont really feel alone
not like my teddy bears are talking to me
or anything
i just feel that at least when i share something
with you
or with you
that you see me, hearing,
even if you dont.

maybe its just that im hearing now
or speaking from a place thats in my stomach too.

dont be worried, even if i say i dont want to live anymore.
its just because i feel silly washing dishes sometimes
and wiping the counter or answering the phone,
and who knows what id rather be doing
but i know id rather be doing whatever im doing
where you can smile at me as we pass each other
on our ways to save the world
and i can feel that wonderful knowing
again and again
and remember more frequently
and take the flying saucers with embrace
or even with a cheshire grin.

maybe i have come to terms with the fact that i am not from this place
and nothing i can do will help me feel more at home
other than just feeling like i am where i need to be
and get on with it
watering things and lifting boulders.

id rather not burn fuel, if you know what i mean.
(are you still listening?)
but right now this intention is moving to thought
to action to reality
because truth sits somewhere i cant even swim.

thank you seeds for doing your thing
and letting me become you,
im sorry if they hurt you.
i'll try my hardest to spoil you now
and perhaps even sing.
we'll love it together.

open me up baby. here is now
and thats all i know
other than i am nothing
and everything
and when my heart is leading
lovers smootch
and cats purr
and the wind waltzes with the palms and the oaks.

you know it.

davey crockett in his coonskin and limping ankle
told me of god and love from his nutrient-less head
his wick glistened through wee-willy glass
as he leaned into the night playroom

your father could have beat you; your mother fed
but the road and two wheels can heal any hunger
under yogic fumes you'll count the stars

the rain brought you in davey
your thoughts take you out again
there is always space for me in your heart
and for you, in mine

jai guru deva

little lloyd you smoke all day
and in curling quiet you roll jays and glaze
where do you go that is better than here?
you retreat from sustained you

of course your journey will take you
but your mind is stuck in how it wants things to sound
thank you for the calm and the lucid tumult
and for the mirror of recoil

the rain brought you in davey
your thoughts take you out again
there is always space for me in your heart
and for you, in mine

jai guru deva

raw food kids, wear the suit

i am here

doubt

i never like to say goodbye but there is a wind behind every one of us that takes us through our lives. We never see it; we can't command it; we don't even know its purpose. I would have stayed among you longer but that wind has taken me away. I will miss it here. I will miss you but I am content that the power that compels me does so with superior knowledge as to what is for the best; and that is my faith. I would like to come down among you and say goodbye and wish you peaceful hearts and loving hearts.

- Father Flynn

sense and sensibility

i dont often feel it. but when i do i want so much to tell you and for you to tell me and for us to roll around making those pinching lip sounds on each others mouths.

when is it okay to express this not in a friggin song?

First Recordings. I have time on my hands. and a guitar
(failed upload of six recordings here)

i cannot help but write

i cannot help but write.

i walk through the streets
and cars are shapes and smells
and reactions

women with their babies
are trees with sapling
and sighs.

and my eyes are the page;
my thoughts are the poem.

a year of two seasons

trumpet honeysuckles
in fire pink and yellow
drape over cement
in anarchy.

i remember summer last
and it is spring
with a new coated fig tree

and trails of jasmine.

the suburb swirls with sound
and i cannot help but fling open windows
despite the warnings.

there isnt any harvest yet
there arent fresh picked apples
and wine

there are puppies, and shopping lists
and traffic

and a welcome mat.

FUCK fantasy

where are all the chariots and orchestras?
or even the locking eyes on the northern line?

there are just middle-aged lonely mothers
stuggling to keep their gmo'ed tykes fed

and confused spirits defending their freedom
within and without this sordid boon.

zadkiel tells me purple that i must have faith
but faith is just faith.

just how far has my consciousness expanded
if it is still my consciousness

and i dont understand sometimes
and i miss you everyday?

belly-buttoned

again, and again, and again, and it takes me time
to get back to this moment in center:
waiting for something to happen, strengthening
like.

Hello, Darling?

You must know how hard it is:
While I was snotting into tissues
about how it hurt when you
you were you drinking coffee and a magazine
and limping into buying groceries.

I am back and it shows in my ways
again.
What is the point of this, again,
to appease you?
But who is you in this?
and me?

All I need is distraction and purpose and support
and adoration
and for me
good intention
and i'm up and i'm up.

do you think homosexuality is an evolutionary population control?

siesta

the oriental plaza

i twisted through galis
sprounting with people so loud
i couldnt hear myself haggle.

i turned round and shoppers disappeared under covers
it was 12.
lunch time.

what's in the spread

I was 'served' this on Luftansa alng with my 'special' meal and kept the lid to google the concoction on arrival.
the first ingredient is 'hefe', german for who knows what, but sounding a little too close to heifer if you ask me.
Thank heavens for Google Translate
and my stomach.

Auf Wiedersehen

neither here

if i dont want to be here
and dont want to be here
when i am there
and there is here
will i not want to be there then?

where do i want
and what is this wanting business?

i want to paint again.
to wake up and walk to my window streaming with light
and just wonder,gazed
until the kettle whistles.

i want to speak to the lavender
and listen to the orchids blossom.
i want to pick apples and eat them
and feed them to my love.

am i nagging?

she's a weed

my mother brought home six slabs of grass today.
she bought them at 7.50 a pop
from a man selling potatoes.
they will be set in our garden.

grass is a weed, right?

some things are better on paper

he crosses out options
as each phone call deems silent.

he leans his head into the corner crease
and sobs in his bandaged hands he flung to protect her.

so many keys
so many stories

so many white chips
you just cannot get rid of.

all ive seen is the preening to union
to comfort
in pairs


and without

we lie sullen

forgotten.

pour toi

if you're sipping on coffee
or passing time
trying to taste again
or the only way you can hear
i want to tell you i love you.

this is for you
and always is.

why else would i be
then to create with you
in mind
in spirit

in love

it seems
very few words float through my memory
when i feel you

you.

it seems
i have waited thousands of years
in silence
in truth waiting.

the name hattie carroll rings in my ear
and the rush of your touch
of something overheard
of something never said
but sung

perhaps.

it ain't me

white butterflies jitter around yellow flowers
themselves nodding at the wind.

and they were apricots

how can i not be in awe
if i never was
but now that is all?
it is here,
so present, such presence
coming as if i no longer speak.
what is truth, if ever was,
is that it is always symboled
and the choice to look beneath the veil,
to discover the One,
is to always be married.

surrender to the embrace of reality

little of it escaped when he translated it for our ears.

apfelwein

the regional line puffs
and he opens the doors
to sunflower and klein apfelle
and wooden chairs and a green that i can translate.
stale cigarette cramps my leaning
and a voice i have heard so often herding my brothers
chatters around me.

the street is german summer
and i am dreaming.

the kleinmarkethulle is layered with fluffy produce.
i have not seen even these colors on the vine.
lamb and pork and anything else you can butcher
bleats behind windows in wiener and wurst.

souvenir tshirts laugh in deutsch.

"i wish i were happier but right now, i can't be"

i watch as each word, string, and pause
pours from some secret chest.
"i'm tired of being confident that i'll be okay. i'm tired of not knowing what'll happen"
is this a perverted invasion
or simply searching for a muse
even if i have to squint to peer over her shoulder?

she is going to paris,
leaving jon,
and hayley and steph,
but mostly jon,
and she is afraid,
like i am
and she loves him
and how he laughs at her unexpected jokes
and how he holds her tightly

is he mine?

en vogue

the tilt of her lips
send me to her mirror
as she slid the metallic paint over her skin
minding the barrier.
her Orange bowl settles jaggedly over her forehead
and as she picks the phone to her ear
her squealed complaints shatter the softness
of her expected mind in expression.

Quart Size

like snakes on ladders
we scuffed with sleep eyes
toward the morning shifts in blue.
their hands were masked,,
their hair was sleek.

we share part holes with bunk mates
without remembering their smell
or the way they sigh in their sleep.
we have meetings and engagements
and these are all just technicalities.

my seatbelt suffocates me
and i am afraid to bush my row comrades
reading the magazines
and snoozing between announcements
and refreshments.

Scuppernongs

it has to be something
that i don't understand.

grapefruit

sleep two walls aways from each other
whisper to each other
1963 autumn

make all the clocks in the world fast by
two seconds without letting anyone know
about it
1963 autumn

- Yoko Ono

zahara - lets look at 27

I find it interesting that david never wrote if god is my light and my salvation then I will not fear. it is already here like olam habah waiting to be realized. god is my strength whom shall i dread. archaicly this means to regard with awe. so perhaps it is not a question of whom shall i dread externally if god is my strength but that god is my strength whom I shall be in awe of.

what is light
salvation
strength

salvation gives the sense that we live in eternity now. but light can bring that back to a point which to follow, a guide, and so it is a distant Thing.
and the strength, to not forget thee oh jerusalem.

this is still blurry in moments

we see wrong with the world which could be seeing wrong with ourself in projection.
and so tikkun nefesh/tikkun olam is a perfecting in this worldd. my tehillim book writes before this tehila that david wants to study torah all day so that he may reach perfection and gain merit in the world to come.
all this now for then bothers me some
torah is truth...in any form perhaps. some resonance in which you realise god or love or ein sof and if you study this all day then it is the world to come.

but what is god?

proceed when ready

post script: GOOD SHABBES LABBES

schadenfreude

my mind jitters from the kilned cup of caffeine.
it is mid-morning
and a fire truck as red as a crayon
and as invasive as a siren
jolts my novel mind
and switches on my compassion.
all you can do is touch your toes.

day made

the drizzle has us huddle to the pier
and as we duck and giggle
the storm lifts
spraying shelled sand in our eyes.
the sea swells.
i feel a part of this community
under the pier.
i am alive again.

this is my favorite time at the beach

when the wind is strong and deafening
spraying sea.
when lovers come to be
and hold hands.
when the seagulls fly backwards
and the beach is cliffed
boasting its shell mosaic
and picnics.
when you have to run from the waves
mid-chapter
and treasure hunters cut the waves with hope.
when old men meet to talk about their wives
and other business deals.
when families are calmed
from the sun.
when i am surrounded by everything
and nothing.

how to kill an orchid

the sound of a cork releasing
the wonders of an eighty dollar
bottle of wine
oozes affluence.

we listened to fireworks
to celebrate something
we all didnt believe in.
some were reminded of the killing
of brothers falling as they ploughed.
while we cheered.

(gunpowder exploding into the purple sky
and smoke drifting, forgotten, into the stars.)

youre not supposed to eat your salad first

peacemakers

perhaps we realise that this isnt ours to behold
exchanging color as we do breath, unconsciously.
the seventy-seven degree retreat keeps me
low and unstimulated
and hungry.

his smile is like a cotton-ball-cheeked pleasance.
he pumps green veins through teeth
giving us sweet ambrosia, elixir i know.

i need to color between your lines
and keep from running further.
it is so tempting.

the nutrients are in the rind.
its good for your prostate
and pink, and sweet.

impressionable

There are so many colors in the rainbow
So many colors in the morning sun
So many colors in the flower and I see every one

is this healthy?

its past four.
its corn
popped.
definitely a carbohydrate.

Avodah

you know those moments
when you click on
when you realise your purpose in the moment
and the day is so strong of now-memories?

to absorb dark and rid it to light
to recreate balance

i just had one

"nature loves the idea of the individual, if not the individual itslef - and the point of a goldfish is pizazz"

In the Wood

Sometimes
I imagine what it would be like
to wake up every morning
for my face and my name
and personally trained shakes
and boulevard sprees.
Sometimes
I imagine what dog i'd invent.
Sometimes
I imagine if i'd learn my driver's name
and smile at my waiters.
Sometimes
i imagine if i could smile more than i do
and if it could ever be real
when followed by a flash

home...home

home is as it is and i dont want to be alone in this red place. i want to play with people who have faith as i do and are dreamy and spirited and give me hugs just because and smile because they see me and look into my eyes and say namaste. this journey takes me back and forth to places that make sense and those that dont and help me remember that i am moving forwards and not backwards.

mamihlapinatapai

its depth through my glass window
stops anything that is on going
but this
and i know what i imagine
and perhaps you do.
how else would we bring ourselves
to here
if not for this?

parachute web

the little girl is screaming
the little girl is screaming
screaming
and pounding on my head
like she is done.

where do i want to be a part of
that isnt here?

when you like someone
and you see them with someone else
i feel sore
and perhaps if you were an animal,
say a lion,
you'd probably butt the other ness
out of your territory.
sometimes i wish i had fur
and wouldnt feel disappointment.
sometimes i remember
that what i see is not really what is going on
and if i could truly hear
speech and thought
id be deafened by the analysis of now.

every friday i would call alone
to my brothers calling somewhere
else.
this week surrounded by mumbling listening
i missed you
i missed praising the nefesh
grokking
i missed the aura of chuch.

thank you holy ones
for everything you shared intentionally and not
i love you chevra

thank you for the monkey

when you sat it here
looking out at the road
did you know i would split notice it?


everything has a little club of membership
and a little group of artisans
that do what they do
do what they do well
and when you decide you want to learn from them
you start up the ladder
and grow into the green jacket.

"remind me again - together we
trace our strange journey, find
each other, come on laughing.
some time we'll cross where life
ends. we'll both look back
as far as forever, that first day.
i'll touch you - a new world then.
stars will move in a different way.
we'll both end. we'll both begin -
remind me again."

prismed

i know
i know
so clear

like i know the knelling needs to end;
the targets to blur;
the terror cries served!

you tell me your country is dying
searing under ownership
and it becomes my country and my concern.

my feet tingle
and giggle anticipating peace.
this is the beginning.

my prayer is for silence
but should i be silent?


blue burns into my chest
and through to my spirit
emblazoned.
who cannot see your truth;
who desires it more than i?
i am here.
take me with you to fight at your side
sewing the seas to the shore
and turning the ash.

you are magic-wonder sent
as dawn brings yawning attempt.
i am healed for you.
your hands wait for mine
my panting tingles.

you are wrapping yours slowly around my soul
and i ask only that you receive my love
so in union we can be
i know you understand love
you must
as i do.

it is good to know that we have within us one that knows everything about us

350 degrees Fahrenheit

you walk away
and i feel the pull at my chest
like a string puppet
with red lips and red cheeks;
your sound of music.

you tell me you love me
but how can i hear through wall?
your beard still prickles my face
and your smell is still your smell,
can anyone ever be this?

if we were baking
what we use?

Orpheus -
if i fell in a forest
would a tree hear?

when you say im so cool
i judge you for it
and destroy whatever intention could mend.

its getting better all the time
come brothers,
let us help each other remember
and as we throw our heads back
we will know
and always know
that we have always known.

our time is
now.

"time has independent ultimate significance; it is of more majesty and more provocative of awe than even a sky studded with stars. gliding gently in the most ancient of all splendors, it tells so much more than space can say in its broken language of things, playing symphonies upon the instruments of isolated beings, unlocking the earth and making it happen. Time is a process of creation, and things of space are results of creation."

discriminitory intolerable racism

why do i turn in when you're still all playing in the stars
and vomit life from one trigger to the next?
if i accept myself as i am, am i unchanging
and if this doesn't feel like my potential how do i know it ever will?
how do i stop saying i need to love and love in the present
and just live and love in the present?

do i just stop?

when do i begin to move toward question
and out of chlorined clarity?

isnt it interesting that pain and gain rhyme?
perhaps suffering and success wouldnt work
but then again it could.

anything i think rolls into ink
and i can just do that nowadays.
maybe i was jesus, or nachshon
whoever sounds more believable.
what am i here for?
(if i keep asking will i never see?)

The Worn Slippers

"on the gown of the youngest princess,
and she cried to her sister."

it is the lip of the brew.
We have time and space
and seven dollars.

Everything is here.
Black-clad women with red rollers
and blue flip-flop art gazers;
couples jungled with strollers;
collisions and cursing.

"Yes, it would tell its fissioned descendants, the universe is two feet by five, and if you listen closely you can hear the buzzing music of the spheres."

bumps and kisses

you drive me crazy with your isness
sometimes
and you know i now
and i know you know

sometimes.

this is the only way to speak
to send some varied breath out
into oblivion
and pretend you hear
when you tell me you love me.

it is perfect, no?

there is nothing wrong with this.
you know i know
and i know you know
and so lets just stay as we are

knowing in uncertainty
and perhaps
when we are old

and have grown up
we will have some sense
to speak the truth that was always there
but somehow wasnt

and no longer will it matter
because perhaps

then
we will be wiser
and not as we are now
in our knowing and uncertainty.

you understand?

Um...

Um is like Om
the circle is not yet complete

the pure of heart see god
or feel what is infinity
but purity is clear fluidity

the circle is abundant, boundless circumference
and the center is everywhere.

the caterpillar is such
and a caterpillar it is
the butterfly is a butterfly

them hippies dont got no money!

this is just
her

and it bombards in blue
not in the usual red
or black

it tastes like smarties,
the blue ones,
although they all taste the same.

it feels like suntan lotion
and has that lingering smell
and pool of oil as you step in the pool.

it is blue
and it doesnt burn

PMS

Im sorry I call on you every time I feel wobbly and dont know where else to put this explosive potential that will simply bite your head off if you say the wrong thing and dont you dare tell me you understand or that youre sorry because that will just make you tastier

i need to close my eyes more
this makes everything color-full
and fluid
and I am not the target of the entire universe
and not everything in the whole entire world is pathetically boring and irritating

and

I need to close my eyes more

shoresh

i seem to have done things

these things

these moments

where everything surrounds and there is absolutely no doubt that this is infinite

infinite truth

resonant whatchamacallit

and somehow in these moments i am alone

i finally am in a space where this piece of memory metal receives signal

for me to write and tell this interworld

where I AM

it is difficult to live in the surface

in smiles and descriptions of sleep and the weather

where is the reality but here

why have i taken myself to somewhere i knew wouldnt be

and why now that i am here am i not in light regardless

buddha tells me to listen to the river

the birdsong and butterflies brush my face with fruit

i want to stay up all night talking our hearts afraid that if we fall asleep we wont dream of eachother

we dance together accross mountains and roads and time

this is my root

love vs abstinence

i make music on the frigid steel with my sandy feet that havent been shoed for days.
the clock is my metronome

you could at least pretend to give a shit about my condition

eveything blares the name of its distributor
from Dell to Kimberly Clark.

there is a plastic case of magazines
muse, parents and the invisible moose by dennis haseley
illustrated by steven kellogg.
everyone should have something to pass the ticking

the room is cream and blue colored, predictable and drab
to blend in with the nausea and inflammation

the pink scrubs are disturbing and i wouldnt mind waiting longer
simply to keep that rash from being around

my legs are unshaven and i feel a little embarrassed
i smell of hard work and no antiperspirant
and have forgotten that somehow this is abnormal

toilet seats need covers
and coffees come in containers we'll just continue to pile onto landfills

who am i to complain? -- I need my Orange Juice in the morning and although Tropicana is relatively local
its in a waxed carton that I cannot burn to keep me warm

I like driving when I need a break
and dont have no veg-oil chompin' diesel tank

I am still waiting as the hand continues to cycle
i might as well pick my nose in the privacy

the doctor's wooden cross thumps against his heart
and he shakes his head when I answer yes to having sexual relations
and am not married
"if you hang one hundred condoms from a laundry line, twenty of them will leak, kiddo"
he scrubs his hands when he is done with me

"we'll have you out of here in no time, kiddo"

p.s. it's out

mi amore

how can i describe
when everytime you are here
i feel you so much
and am affected by this presence
so what is is tailored.
like in a dream.

what words like gratitude, love,
could make you understand
and not query anything
but trust
and be
and love me.

Nation's Oldest

Purple dehydrated corn
and pink himalayan salt
line the sparkling shelves: a market as you come out of the bathroom.

7:10 scraping the crystal boat
that moments ago heralded
a raw catamaran of cocoa-creamy heaven,
almost impossible.
Leonard Cohen hums
through hidden speakers
and i am everywhere but in the present moment:
in memory, in sensation, sound.

this type of vacation cannot cost what we're paying
and if anything just who we can tolerate.

Juniper berries and unwoody sugar cane lined our over-walk
of dolphins and health-food-store co-ops.

I watch double dates and judge the wives
in puffy shirts
watching their husbands engaged
and nibbling on appetisers.

San Sebastian offered dessert port and a roof top
bar in the pouring rain.

The credits rolled and a lady asked if we wanted anything: wine, a beer,
popcorn and those jujubes that cling to your teeth.

Another cardonnay clove and snuggle on a bunk bed
to a snouted biker and his beer gut
and a troubled wall unit on seventy six

dripped

i love it when it rains
and everything is translucent
and fed
and the water bounces off the ground
so you can almost hear it giggling.

i love the dampness
after running through the drizzle
with my shoulders clenched
and my eyes squinted

indoors seems warmer and graceful
and we get to snuggle

broken swing

sometimes i feel entitled
to just scream and pout
and think that i am the only person in the world

and take my space and time
and be happy because i am
not because i have to be.

brushing things off never seemed this hard.

i have too much intention and sometimes its thwarted
analyzing and realizing too much

if this is all an illusion
get me the fuck out of here!

the island

they all know each other
its too small and too pretentious not to
and so they know im not from here.
in my pocket i am
and i get to watch the tuxedoed mourners ride in stretched limousines
and the loafered manicures buying wind chimes and lawn chairs.

the server at the coffee shop that wears the red beanie in the southern goergia heat isn't working today and i wanted to finally tip him
instead i throw the change i have in the overflowing basket as i grab my latte with soy milk. this makes it fifty sense extra. for love i guess.

i found the back road behind the airport and waited hours for a plane to take off.
instead i examined the old military cruiser covered in rust and for a minute hoped this meant the war was over.

so many smells rush through my mind and only when i start sipping in this bitter condensed gift can i reflect and think of everything that is sprawled and so concentrated at the same time.

my mind makes poems as i drive and have nothing else to think of. these have dissipated as the screen waits in the cool of the caffeine cafe.

what am i in this very moment?
am i the memories that i can savour and close my eyes relishing thanks to the individual games that made life so full?
am i the love that wasnt returned because the soil wasnt yet ripe or my imagination was overripe?
am i the duck rotting in the compost pile who wouldnt take my healing hands? RIP Feodore.
am i the empty bottle of wine
these photos you took
or this who sees the shape of the revamped cabin, covered in kitch art and rich islanders?

monogamous

has interest stopped?
why relationship, what need
do we fill?
commitment is not appropriate
anywhere else.

deeper satisfaction is unmet
anywhere else.
in now is else.

i am peace

in the midst of your day
do you think of me?
what do you think of?
if my thoughts come into your stream
does it change your mood, neutral, negative, trigger?

11 + 6 = 17

Umlike
this is who i am

blue moment change everything
a black imbalance
decree of true infinite heaven
and core.
so much again
so now again
getting the stage now
creates mornings you imagine
or expected greyness. the chance
is always yours, mine.

who am i writing to?
but only in rhythm
i shant understand in the morning.

02-15-09

somewhere beyond farm
a longing lies dormantly
until stimulus ignites to surface.

this space wails open
for perfection to fill
that is resonant one.

here is where love is felt.
see saw balance of heart
of color in harmony.

respect this song.
this fragile game
and spread watered seed.

the tides of saint simon

she wanders on her own.
she can.
she has been free for seven days.
she is the mermaid froth silhouette
and the guls explore at her feet.
they walk as if they have known one another
and i am not sure whose sake this is for.
the sea grows old with them.

i knew her footprints.

i touch home in the ocean.
i love moments of profundity like this.

cracker crumbs and ice-cream sticks

for macdonalds

i have come here to watch something other than my life
that looked so pathetic in matted mirror

i have history here with no one but the birds

it's good to know i can be disconnected and still be ok

theres a thirteen year old
with her composition book and birkenstocks.
her hair is parted like mine and she finds her seclusion
on a bench
facing the swings.

the see-sawing helps her thoughts.

her hair falls close to the pages
she hunches over and fills with despairings
and musings and secrets.
she fiddles with her shoes as she draws
pausing to reflect and to gather momentum

the possum creek bench etches into my skin
making red circle tatoos (dont know which to qualify) on my ankles

she is my spanish translation

seven year olds play footy
with thirsty coaches howling at the lines.

i want to fall asleep here on this bench
with my shoes waiting on the ground
and have someone tap me lightly
when it's time to go home.

monkeys are it
chasing the girls from the slides.
one waits for a late pickup.
he eyes are full of defeat.

so many languages.

now run along. men are talking

apparently the end has an urgency.
My reaction is hovering.
I understand that there are certain souvenirs I cannot take
and time will let my memories fade.

An Alumnus - speaking of the birds
and the taste of things

Storms feel tender and guiding.
Everyone still looks the same
and grows up for a mortgage.

Can I no longer be irresponsible
and enjoy weekends
and hangovers.

in sense

i take the burner down

from the shelf

and ash drizzles

tinting the air 

with gray

i remember when i lit what is ash

but only now did i

until then was potential bicker

and coming back is everything

that ever sounds like wonder

i usually empty it on thursday

we must wait until a way shows us out

muses

what inspiration curls our hands

our minds

to create

something seen as beauty

wands wisp

and the essence unfolds

in color and absolute

and nothing inteferes

until resonance

satisfies

i wait for this harmony in any

i look with love and see some form

in the nothing

see as you see

and in that find light

we are in gevurah

with endurance

and though from those words

yellow doesnt flow as firm chesed

there is you

in strength

so many things so many things

and so many tests

that bring us further from the center

to take us back

i want something to take it over

to hold me in its breats so I dont have to hang on 

stumbling anymore

and scolding myself

i always forget in a few hours 

and so tomorrow it happens again

this channel seems too crackling

like when it rains

or perhaps im in the wrong bedroom

tell me more about chani

stop this

be happy 

and why do you hurt yourself

when you know im listening

perhaps I AM your mother

or never understand exactly

what i was

districts and lobbying

colors in shade

fuels and photons

time and its end

granted

S.O.Selfish.S

I realize I dont like you because you dont teach me anything.
You drain my smile
And tempt wrist slitting with your gnawing.
When you open your mouth I almost expect vibrating death
And so I stay quiet
In an attempt to cage myself.

I pray for you to your deaf god
Because you obviously are light blind
In your insecure spiral.
I dont know what I wish for you
but only balance of a see-saw friend
as compensationarily heavy.
And prozac

for the squirrels

he lay fetally on the yellow line
his right eye marbled a black hollow
his feet packed neatly
and his tail humbly eyebrowed.
i have never maneuvered death
and honor the pallbearers and shomerim
who were once affected.
i turned him, prodding, trying to balance him between the forked palm.
the distance was safe.
he rolled on the asphalt and i winced.
the lids of his left eye met.
he is covered with damp leaves on my neighbors front.
Grace Happens

chevy astra

the tireless, cinder-block-jacked van
sits on our corner
car battery, shovel, rain boots
ladders
I wander what he does for a living

see back for details

reversed clouds glide across panes
its a calm seven, euphoric and squirrel scurried
we're still dying from consumption
the needing is riding my head insane

HIV is a great way to put a foot down on risky behavior
cancer keeps us indoors
we get sicker as the drug companies pump

When god consciousness began

i think i know
i think everything here is beautiful
i think i know more than you

if you are
you think you know

can we meet?

no no no, be my guest

sirens seems to cause absolute pandemonium

a palpitation that lets all rules of the road slide

drive on the left, up on the side walk

obstruct an intersection

just get out of the way

something is burning

and you're excused

we understand what the flashing allows

runner-up

i think i once scored the highest marks in my standard
then i was president of interact
and on the A team for netball
i had floating ballerina trophies for man-eating performances
and a kipling space case

i had a hebrew and an english submission in our year book
and buffalo shoes

i wouldnt wear my retainer
to school
and kissed at least threes boys on a good night

these things had to make me
cause i wasnt otherwise

31/03/09

march, so much
so open intra, inter weaving
sky dripping my rhythm
so far but so close

time takes everything perfectly
and this gratitude for what
is now
stays harmony in unfolding

again this is complexity
expressive encoding
to decifer in another head

or when you read it

dawn dew

the crow of half-mooned sun
stretchs stimulating reattempt
again.
when will the morniong stay
and not bring the coat of night?
when will we not need the dark
to appreciated awakening
or see the black and be?
oscillating through
connect is reward
fuel to seek
again.

recorded

using surround in
to create moment beauty
out
wonder manipulation

how am i here
in, scales
thank you שַׁחַר
dripping from our mouths
like nectar

thank you שרה

thank you פסח
for this moment in all
in all
ever before
is this

cured.

אֶמְצַע

running to the fairest
scenario, constant
What should is
and the difficulty of acceptance
the quiet brings time
to think, become
and question every belief
influenced
creating art in movement
with life
forgetting the vapor
living THIS as THIS
never ending
Separation or Reservance
if this even is
something has changed
perhaps i dont want to understand
and let evolution
without blame
or too much anti-entropy

I feel like im playing a game
sometimes
you know
obvious
oblivion

why does love seem wrong so much
lost in our world of happening
should this be

why cant i just say
it's there in your eyes
and fear of imbalance
denies it.

of what, where do I feel this

closer closer
to it, doorframe
there
from the beginning
there was light

absolute

i have lost a telephone with your smell in it

there seems to be so much
about truth
so adding nothing more
than i hear you brotha

menage

this
here
there
satisfaction
where it shouldn't be
but what should
and organic flow of force
where resisting is integrity
but what the hell does that mean

קהילה

I founded a new religion today
i rolled up to the intersection upon my shwinn stallion
eden: the other side of the road
god: the green man
disciples gathered round me
with the same intentions
the same illusions of the Red Man
i led them across the sea

Amen, jai

going your owned way

i was reminded today
how my choices have brought me to this
simplicity
wonder
and that it is so easy
to wear fake leather
and have an alphabet after your name
and to curse it
because the weekend isn't paradise
but as burning as the week
excuse is easy
to explain disempowerment

perspective

what is a walking womyn

do you only live for this

every rhythm tells me

passively

i have to find Das Energi

Each man creates himself.

Each of us creates himself anew at each moment.

Each of us creates himself and the worlld he lives in,

the world as it seems.

The world as it is.

Each of us is responsible for every aspect

of his creation.

thank you paul williams

boolean logic

i wanted to 

and saw you more than twice

today

i saw you in the dream

too

AND

i reach the thereness

and gradually dip

ramp to the parabolic

bottom

only to curve again

these moments are closer 

together

OR

i have forgiven you

i dont even know for what

but i am no longer

your victim

willingly

because i was angry

jealous

empty

on my own

chevra

i heard two kids bickering today

one's voice was nasally high-pitched

the other's cool and slow

the tension was love caused

that would soon be tampered with

as the falsetto is leaving town

he failed to mention this to his buddy

i will choose a battle like this

i find i am so much more drawn

to those surrounded by no one

their story more interesting

less heard

before time

in third grade we watched The Land Before Time

i am not sure why we watched this during school

math break perhaps

but i remember the dark room

with fuzzy steep steps

like a inside pavillion -- 

we would wait here when taking the bus.

i hated taking the bus --

i cried so heavily

my friends awkwardly stroked my back

and Mrs. Yates came up to me

in the sea of maroon uniform

she stroked my knee

and told me it was only a movie.

i wonder where she is

destination tree hut

and on the way i pass
a hula-hopper
a lake path raker
with stories in their salutations
a history that finds them here

sharing this is being part of the system
that orbits in drum circles
of gratitude

im happy just because i found out im really no one

now the wooden curtains sway
as the only proof that you ARE
you were here
then
now only pendulum wood swing

your points teach me not to care
about such temporary things
in this green and brown
sandpit

blessings placed
in a moment of intention
are received at my acknowledgement

you teach me not to care
about simple being

dify

i made dried banana today
the bananas were free
they were too brown to sell

i planted seeds yesterday
i watered them
and asked them to grow
i sang to them

i get dizzy from the noise
and the lights in grocery stores
nowadays
and love that i know the man
who planted, watered and sang to
my salad

i know that free trade is far from free
and the green revolution
was anything but green

i know that there are legal rufis
that offer me discounts
and fat free

i dont know why we enslave ourselves

four thirty am

moons one night from full
i cant sleep
propanes out
so i warmed water in the coffee maker
its brownish
loves too tired to caress
im too tired too
banana tastes good

peanut butter better
when will it

grazed

i fell out of bed last night
when i say bed i mean ten feet off the ground
i remember snippets
on trying this morning
but otherwise i woke
covered in grazes and band-aids
with no recollection
of how they got there

loways

i dont think all rules should be
but i am grateful for some
that keep those drivers there
and these drivers here
and me alive
because here i prostitute
and keep in those lines
when the eyes of cats tell me

red means not war
not procession
think
silence

cry of the earth; cry of the poor

who would have imagined that a philosophy like neoliberalism would be so destructive

the days a dream

i had the strangest dream last night

i guess that's tautology so let me say

that i had a dream last night

i guess this is obvious

so let me just tell you what i saw

my friend, Talya, dew of The Name,

was in Jerusalem

she was stranded in Jerusalem

somehow

and we had to save her

we arrived, somewhere,

but to get into Jerusalem

we had to make our way along

this twisting rocked cliff

which plunged into the sea

Talya turned out to be my cousin

who just got married

although she hadnt married yet

and ran off with a man named

Asham because her feet were cold.

we were then in my kitchen 

trying to get the mouse

safely out the door.

we did it i think.

there is a mouse here home

there is a mouse forest home

and the mouse brings the spirit

message to not take the trivial things 

in life too seriously

not to over exert

but one by mouse to get things

done

what on earth is that green thing following my right foot

everything in my focus

has a perfect resonant place

this has me clearing and using 

my ATP to counter entropy

i have 31 pairs of shoes

or in that general direction

and every pair has a home

shares a space with a clone

and i know when someone has borrowed this pair

because it is playing with a different tribe

i have 5 denim jackets

they all have an order

my skirts

jeans I wont even attempt

and then there's books

and pillow design

i like to think im sensitive

to vibrational energy

but i notice a compulsion

i like the pleasance in order

and am threatened by the chaos

i cannot wait to get rid of it

to have little that needs a place

and slower see saw through the cap

of possessions.

do you understand

there seems to be a guilt

when i decide on something

change something

in my interest

fuck it

what is proper when pandering

till way past that moment of noticed

exhaustion

trying to be a version of that

instead of an identity of this

good 

bad

god

do you understand

03-02-09

When did we begin wearing dresses to cover our breasts
forgetting how to feed ourselves
and keep a family?

Do I blame culture for bringing me East
in journey for truth?
My life was formed on the lessons of
the continuous sacred contracts
and now I plead for what is right.

I cannot fight the Man who fed me so well
housed and clothed me ad carried me through the air
but I am grateful and move toward the separate truth
that keeps calling at my forgetting.

There are people to play with here too,
no glitter or green
just the songs we know
and the words
that make sense in rhythm


To understand is to have no future.

hamakom, hamishkan

it seems we need to go somewhere
whether it be into a doctorate system of philosophy
or love.
somewhere brings peace because it isnt
here; it is there.
a light i know has a grove
another has ferment.

existence seems to be an interlocked web
of alternating intensities of consciousness.
i find my Self in constant oscillation
and in rest i am in ecstasy.

i care what it means and in that desire
slip out of time moment.

what is truth other than what i see

truth is the balance, the resonance
the isness
so it seems

Market Tales

In green skirts and red rims
you arrive with intent;
smile in love and acknowledge
the perfection in meeting.

The sky is the rim of our ocean
and germs riggle white squiggles
and our hearts touch the earth.
We share the same story

with different endings.
I don't want to leave
for the first time in a life
and am glad to dance again.