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