Words of Zanmi B

hija love to padre

2009-02-23T14:58:00.001-08:00

i guess
Miles Davis
reminds
me of
my padre,
dear dad

you know
i had
tears
hot full
bubble
salt
strolling down my cheeks

first time in weeks

thats okay
tears replenish
the soil,
Co would say

Miles Davis and you
Dad
this is one of i think
several,
thank you
love you
remember you
Dad

best i could hope to have

you are in the music
It Never Entered My Mind
endless reasons and rhyme
why passing time
with you in Madrid was something id never wanna rid
forget, or bet off

today
i ate
a candy pepper
and shared
the next one
with you
i know
you liked it

and now, the
peppers are gone
and Miles is long
and yr in a hotel on a lawn
in Rome
perhaps literally or no
my brain is bleary and so
the best thing to say is
i love you
and
i am
because of you

thank you

a heart poem/2

2009-01-18T13:34:00.001-08:00

a heart is an organ
that plays a canorous
chaotic
cancion, or song
am i wrong

in writing about the organ
that plays our days
in beats on the streets
as our feets
walk and
as our mouths
talk and

some brains attain knowledge
of the holledge polledge
and ledge we
place the brain and heart
on
to dutifully carry on more smart
and sophisticated so yesterday wouldnt berate
us and
our distance, silence, weapons and usage of all
and clamoring for space, over race and
a true place for peace

between, amongst, within and all around the red and green and white and black
organ keys- ah, awaits such keen

a heart poem

2009-01-18T13:25:00.000-08:00

rib ripped

one yesterday
one today

heart exposed
every part knows

touched heart
winces open
at yr dart

heart hears
nothing
heart feels
everything

heart beats
careful

ribs ripped
dart slipped

elan-prana tripped

eyes open close
rip rip no fib

its truth from lip
de la vida

o madrid, dice VALE!

2009-01-11T14:32:00.001-08:00

the cursor blinks on the screen
i want to tell you everything

here the phone line ring
you are calling
oh but now im balling
all this up
to bounce it around
and sink a shot downtown
to elude the frown and leave the clown

to look for one of his shoes

that, like me
is lost in a sea of desire
burning up yea, oh fire
rage on rage on
burning and rolling and rising and smoking
sometimes to regenerate
sometimes to renegotiate
the hand the field the seed the sea
stones

are meaning

and in my blankness
beating like time ticking waiting
and wicking the impatience
as it hangs coldly in the air
perhaps for me to stare
at the words
i would never dare
say

so you kno

2009-01-07T16:13:00.000-08:00

the mother
of
two boys
eyes me
in her
driver seat belt
womanrollin
in
4 wheel drive
to
soccer practice
with
blush, braces, bible
and
her rush is not tribal
for her calendar
is her (second savior)
and her
third eye
might espy
a bohemian
on
the
fly

JAN words, finally

2009-01-03T20:47:00.001-08:00

what shall love make us do
as we are restricted by distance we
i,
will oscillate in darkness
mourning the loss of depth in which i plunged
with you
as now i float so otiose
like
a child who cannot sink deeper
bobbing mindlessly
yet knowing how less
sensing
less alive
i am

what shall love make us do
i,
shall deflate the floaties
and kick my legs down deep
to find you
waiting for me and
swim swirl ansanm
like a dream but awake
and alive and we wander not
in a lake
but an ocean
eternal and possible

love is indefatigable energy and love is force and love is possible

single observations, no reservations

2008-12-27T12:38:00.000-08:00

half after 4' o clock
Dr and Mrs present
their daughter
to join the hand of
him
of
Mr and Mrs

its half after 3' o clock
and her heart
tick tocks
in milli seconds, multiple like
bird flocks

tis not i who weds on this day
nor, later, in this way
sure as a sun ray in gray january

i sit single with a jingle and
bright star shines thru my tree

boxer #1

2008-12-09T23:16:00.000-08:00

in one week
about 7 days
eye might turn to
the right
corner of the ring
in sweat, blood and saliva
sing

memories
seeing me more ease
-ily, with you
(silly now)

distance,
pow pow
hits
me hard

yeah

2008-12-06T10:57:00.000-08:00

Dred Loc Rasta

lock me

into

your

open eye

--

the key be

in your

open palm

i know

Powell Poems 11-22-08: 4/4

2008-12-04T20:06:00.000-08:00

what the hell race?
your always in one

-----

family of humyn

-----

rush race fast pace cunning chase
out of breath
and
first place

-----

You must let out the madness
trust me y’ll be restless
until you cast the burning
thumping
swaying
crest beast best
out
like a bird
from its nest *

or:
out like a bird
from the ground, back to her nest

-----

i have no qualms with
one of my palms
holding this black page balm
pen

when the symphony
engenders such ken
-----

shh its starting

-----

baldheads
holding glasses
necks adorned
scarves console shoulders
department store bras
not on sale
suits custom tail-
ored
no out of place word
out the mouths of the married
men and women
(affairs now and then)
in rooms of big houthes
orgasms out of lypo lips
uplifted cheeks
and tummy tweaks
and a new call from breasts’ beaks
sagging will not be
ragging on their
nagging old age

now, a handful of you might be
a sage
vets, docs, ceos, beaus
at one time
now, me with a pen
‘tis you i limn ‘n mime

(you know i paid no dime
for this ticket o’mine)

-----
teach me w/ yr song
way a bird does her young

-----

reach out, try. dont ask how when where or why.

-----

be into it. totally. truly. committed.
like jesus-sell all and follow me
this is what he means
look at the violinist
she dropped everything but herself
and carries her bow and violin cross
every stage flossing between truth teeth

shes boss of her
shes boss of us
reigning
and taking out the junk that stains

chew on this
sound
it turns the world roung:
love
passion
life

----

boat carried along in the current
yet going upstream
seems to be the best choice
to choose

-----

symphony orgy
organic, charismatic
crescendo
innuendo (you know)
and, solo
and, all go
climax!!!!!!
sound syntax
friends of public arts, we thank you
with the sweat from our backs

-----

sweet like
candle burning on woodenslab table
or in a window, frost, first snow
tea, stepping inside home
sometimes
moment body lays in bed
the second
before worries, conversation, or sleep
-----

these measures
trigger
the digger to rig
the shovel into the soul-levels
of compost and ash and regeneration
organic narration of nitration
earth sensation no explanation
just holes
for wells
with bells
on top to toll
for whom?
for me...

----

sunrise
faint glowing glimpse
rising like boats rowing
up stream

-----

dont crack yr neck
dont sneeze

you can breathe
arrive on time
make as much noise as a mime
add a lime- to yr drink
can fancy, reflect, roam and think

but
if you come to the brink
of bri (noise)
make the right choice
dont dare hoist yr bod nor voice
into the air

what if
they danced
while playing

without band stands
page turning hands
paper with company brands

freedom

thinking and cavorting and thinking
standing and floating
with their
all together noting
sounds beyond earths’ bond

----

mh mwen renmen ou...
mache lwen m. ou...

-----

act of sitting still
no motion
cannot be done without potion

----

cold to bone bold
thought
that wrought me
to be sought
not packaged bought
a winter sea black
wave, also sought
for journey-venture
and...

Nou la

2008-11-29T08:28:00.000-08:00

too many poems on love
let me just say

you can feel
when its real

------

working with various similar ideas:

words of love
blurred
words of truth
whirred
like words of
murmurred liberation
unjustly unheard

words of truth, of love, of justice, of liberation
a conspectus of revolution

recycle mainstream pollution
and rouse organized contribution

ablution
this is not holy
this is human

-----

Powell Poems 11-22-08: 3/4

2008-11-27T19:35:00.000-08:00

i need music to live
harp violin trumpet sax piano
cello guitar symbol crash
bow beauty
exclaim
whisper
charm, convince
me
like word after word missive
to day after day live

----
are yr shoes as cold black and hard
as
yr spirit
or
can i slide myself into them, it

seems to fit
-----

yr a genius and yr
long hair guapo
i stare
across the room, you pair
yr genius to guitar
and fly, a sklar-lark
into tomarr-hark!
oh! now you know, we float along here @ Mahler show
yr face shows yr brain a glow

-----

symphony wisdom:
what do you love-- do it
do it again
share it
join others
punk and practice around
accept and challenge sound
rise confidence like sun
draw moon like twilight
power of and over nature
rock world ocean eternal truths
roll on crest and dip
create habitats for life, to grow, evolve, be...
patient, share, exhibit and care to know... yr not always alone

there are others who’ll add, harmonize, deepen yr tone

(StL symphony wisdom for a poet... i do not condone!)

-----

why this chair so ranked
special and extra thanked
we dont all wanna gotta go
for the first chair in show
where yr solo
instrument wedded wonder
never widow, you above law
need not rights nor fights nor heights
terra transcender, (from the orchestra crescendoer)
you are
high
stars
shining
twinkle
special
and yet, a wrinkle in the face of the century

-----
horses fields, open blue sky
children all together
harmony in weather
ebullient time spent
excellent !
joy is not for rent
cost: more than life for lent
joy is yr life
today is advent

----

how many lovers
brothers
are uncovered in the sweet smothers
of the orchestra
brauhmt brauhmt
then szwing szwing bells
and coowl coowl shoowl flute spells

wait
wait
she knows, you told her?
i had too, she asked me
of the truth you told her?
of comity, you and me

wait
wait
lovers, brothers
and the spies undercovers

awoken, thrown off bedsheets
ah, the music entreats
us to just go along with the song

-----

volcanos erupt
and disrupt the day

---

a volcano that erupted
disrupted the day

Heartfelt hash (walking in the dark alone is scary)

2008-11-25T00:38:00.000-08:00

MJ
sexually assaulted, heyy

in the DRAKE, sweat down my face
made 10 puddles a mini lake

i swam in, chokin
on salt
so i thought to bottle it up
put it on sand and wave my right hand
to make something called an ocean roll, not stand
and expand
over all the land

and MJ and i
on the sandy shore, we espy
hope in a sunset
in a rising moon over eternal crest dip crest dip

gonna flip the coin see if im lucky
no dont squeak me im no rubber ducky
no pick peck puck no fuck here
no rape here
no more now
no
no
no

STOP

and what about all the women who
stuff it
those tears to puddles lakes oceans to dreams
expression of self
why be so stealth-ee
thats not health-ee
ee-yow-wow, now
how you gonna live if you force part of you to die

try, rot, crack, bend, snap, fall, crawl, beg, hurt
and cry

and find me
on the sand of the sea-ocean
looking out breathing, and free

note: Powell Poems

2008-11-24T15:35:00.001-08:00

typed as written, not edited
spaces not correctly positioned as written, still -- hope you read and get a fill from the ink spill

Powell Poems 11-22-08: 2/4

2008-11-24T15:35:00.000-08:00

i need to zip my pants
im in the middle of romance
im in the middle of my apartment
ones a place in time
ones a time in place
irregardless
the tock is ticking
and the skin is sticking

to the fuzz
in the carpet

----

were gonna knock out one
of yr senses
if you dont come to them
if you
dont
care for the expenses
the dollars and centses

you owe

for being able to feel from yr toe
for yr nose that know
for yr sight to allow perspectiv to grow
for yr tastebuds to glow
for yr ears to lead yr mouth to say whoa

----

so many young
hermosa mujeres al teatro...

----

que hablan las vacas?

----

isnt that extremely stupid?

-----

if zwazo’zul
were here
id drool
im a fool
unwind yr spool
into my cool
pool

----

butterfly
sunshine rays
thru branches sways
wings high not shy
sky kites
summer delights

poems from powell symphony 11-22-08 (1/4)

2008-11-23T09:40:00.000-08:00

field.
england. spring-summer...

----

i am
a violin
play me
make love
make sound
canorous
humminglorious
to me
with me

----

a symphony
lunges and somersaults
while

smiling

----

piano notes
tunes twinkling
sweet sprinkling of light drops

----

waves
and mountains
rolling
kissing sky
rolling and rocky
grand nature
landscape
time span

their meaning needs not word
neither written nor spoken
their being
illuminates
any dull damp dark corner of confusion

-----

each significant
all important
an eye, arm
a brain, neuron
independent to extent
yet bent on
dependent days spent
wing maker breaking bounds of falling gravity

wing me queen me
bee
fly high sky try espy
hei-
gths
strengths of flying
going
knowing
each significant
all important

trumpet glory
this be lifes boundless story

----

good thing the cats
saved powell hall
so now our ears ring tall
mountain bells, momentary knells
OM OM praying
(like i waz zaying)
the cats purred the
pesos out to
mice who needed quesos
cheese please!
this is no photo booth
this is the totol truth
the cats
money meowed
internal laudable burst-transformationss
now a
canorous explanation
(symphony)
receives applause for
the application of
financiation
to make a
friday satdy nite
a ear ringing
smpyh singing delight
---

queso- cheese in Spanish
peso- Mexican dollar

* Spacing effect did not transcribe from original document to the blog--

schedule

2008-11-20T00:03:00.000-08:00

(to you, chaotic cloth piece)--

a schedule to give chaos a rule:

if you (chaos) are going to be
this is how i can control thee

one hour slots
mental bathroom break plots

insert coffee at meeting
donut, too, to sweeten the greeting

buzz on cell phone
time to get goin'

one group mtg, then, to classes to
another activity and if you eschew

the chaos of bumper to bumper
meetings making traffic of yr day, a headache thumper
well, get smart, hectic humper
theres reasons 2 mile races dont got hurdles nor jumpers

for if you

block it out
pencil it in
mark it there
fit it here

then, your day will be a smear
of choking ears and coffee burned tongues and
too much sitting and sprinting to and from
and chewing gum
to what meaning to what end

the rule of the schedule: does not bend nor pretend nor mend
the chaos, like torn cloth pieces from too much ware, cant sew extend

(consider sew/so: cannot so extend)*

we meet on the corner, we wait at the stop, we connect with no introduction

2008-11-19T17:08:00.001-08:00

's-your bag heavy
yeah
i sees you bendin over you know
yeah, holdin books for a paper
i see
yeah, on Lorde, Sanchez
's that what you got in there
yeah, poets, words, burning ideas

conversations need not
hello
to begin
nor
goodbye
to end

Under the Rainbow/1

2008-11-17T20:59:00.000-08:00

nervous fear causes water inside to bubble
and exude through a tear
salt taste rolls over lips
mouths are holes for words to come out of
like worms and gophers and
fresh water springs, butterfly wings

on the flag pole a vibrant rainbow ascends
waves
shaves ribbons of pride from the skin of the free
and those
no longer hurt-ing
or at least not in this
present
moment

the gosh mosh slosh stew thats been busy a brew
now shines thru
in a tear coming out into view
coming out
in the Quad of the U
to a friend, parent, or family ear that will accept reject, break and bend
to tend to the reason, the person your ears need to lend
to
you
and her and him and
you

this is one rough poem
one exhale for the lovers cruccified with the hate nail
punctured and broken and bleeding pain

but on her face, a salty tear stain
in this moment, a liberated lesbian refrain

she is you as you are he as he is me is you is we

to AG, KG, and NC- a memory

2008-11-13T17:09:00.000-08:00

K. Gibran "Give your hearts, but not into each other's keeping. For only the hand of Life can contain our hearts. And stand together yet not too near together: For the pillars of the temple stand apart, And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow." The Prophet (Alfred A Knopf Publisher, 2001)

and then, to read Ginsberg to Cassady
a november missive
1947 and AG's writing,
so dismissive of KG
Ginsberg, oak
wanted under cypress shadow of Cassady

the mind keeps spinning

and i, too, howl

untitled Eros

2008-11-12T22:16:00.000-08:00

love:
a passion
hot rain drops burning holes thru umbrellas

it pours
and makes you wet

purifies and sweeps you away
alters landscapes, changes plans

love... Eros

you and more than you

---
dedicated to AL, MJ, NG, AM and D

a body, a leaf

2008-11-11T20:17:00.000-08:00

it was
a leaf
flirting
with ce-
ment

not
a body
following
me

half, function ?, far away feeling-- maudlin meddlings

2008-11-05T19:15:00.000-08:00

media naranja

half a shirt, the left side with buttons
two legged dog
equation, no solution
lamp without bulb
postcard, no mail carrier
idea, no vocal ability
a missing sneaker
blind man no cane
elderly woman no street cross walker
red without blue
mother, where are you?
soldier MIA, AWOL
2 gone puzzle pieces
jazz without sax
quantitative design, no statistics

missing
looking
and incomplete
hobbling only so long
along solo road, oh
oh sentimental sigh-
sway away in Autumn day
here comes the sun,
Nina Simone does say

she remembers
why the BlueBird is far away

Recent writings/right-ings word-sightings

2008-11-03T07:40:00.000-08:00

yr Voice

lies
revealed
involuntary
like eye lids
opening

blink
but dont be blind
speak
and truth uL find

--
(Haiti bleeds from my bones)
i exist in
a red sea
of Ayisen moun yo* blood mud

* Haitian people

--

now i know what i didnt before
rhymed the riddle and
charmed the gate keeper
tickled behind the knee
with a feather levity fun-witty wonder
wonder
how i could
fall like a fool and
get the folks to carry the spool
i, cool
weave with them
manifests all pretend
lucky, languished legend
of whatever wood-solid
solid truth i can bend
ah!
beware the care i take
when i elucidate
and with rhymes
relate and word mate
so you'll open yr gate

thurs thots

2008-10-30T17:48:00.000-07:00

let the lantern be lambent
a soft flicker
outside my windows
before cool air blows
a lucid layer of frost

i can see through,
though barely
so i turn back to the tome
nestle in some soft space
between lines of pages

and find freedom
and life the cold
could ne'er o'ercome

for monday

2008-10-27T22:00:00.000-07:00

sentiments untangle
like deliberate hands on knotted rope

emotions wound and tightened
over time
tension has seeped out
of fibers, of strands
careful
rope burns from fast motions
make skin commotions

brain sensory up
heart beat jump
ah!

we sit together
take turns
to take this apart

loca elocution/2

2008-10-26T12:06:00.000-07:00

Zanmi Eyes
know

sunlight of day as vim that imbues

you,
tree soul
and
you grow

crazy talks 2

2008-10-26T12:00:00.000-07:00

take off your jacket and step into the
home of my heart
a fire burns and soul foods on the stove
find me
with a book and smile, with words for a long while
with you
we light up and begin bursting --
sparkling excitement, human connection ecstasy
ayiiiii yiii yiiii yip! yazoo!

understanding the oxygen for fires,
for mouths to respire

breathing, we are alive
we feel the strength of marrow
to bring you and i to this place
and with gratitude, be as we may in this space

loca elocution

2008-10-26T11:48:00.000-07:00

a white woman, age 22
speaks
a white woman, age 52
counsels

the speakers' mother knows the counselor
who is not with degree, but--
is with
two ears to listen
and let the speaker be free

a subtle session-- casual sunday coffee

---
10/25/08

crazy talks 1

2008-10-26T10:33:00.000-07:00

human being
you
burning
words
into the palms of my hands
wrinkles and lines
to my finger tips
printing
comedies trajedies

of societies
with my
thumb
or was it
with my eye
or a pen

D, all the above
mark the full circle
on paper
from trees, a forest
of worms and leaves

now-- as paper
of words and needs
burn burn burn
flame of truth wrinkle my palms
beam truth from my eyes
speak truth from my words

friday discovery

2008-10-24T17:28:00.000-07:00

take your time
and peel back the rind
of who
you be
get into the juicy orange flesh
be squirted in the eye
squint**! for a second

open your eyes
and bite into truth
and if it is not truth quite yet

then,
discovery

symphony

2008-10-23T20:03:00.000-07:00

she stepped across the stage
violins on shoulders
trumpets at mouths
deodorant under arms
hairs combed
ties tied
knuckles cracked

blink

not a woodwind in sight
not a brass in reach
and no whiff to waft
no curl to twirl
no loop to undo
no finger to pop
or play

blink

why did no one care to stay?

2008-10-23T00:22:00.000-07:00

painter:
do not stop painting

Wists

2008-10-22T21:41:00.000-07:00

thunder boom world crack
split WIDE open
like legs, improper and
asking for adultery
no
that cannot be
the reason why
they speak, words kissing in the air
like Merlin and his mistress
from my eyes' corner
from my quick shoulder glance
i see their love shatter
all that is stable surrounding under and around...

thunder boom world crack
bursts of earth split and severed
illuminated by lust, lightning
a new world un ordered
split and deserved
natural love--
organic chemistry,

yeah-
we can do it
after class
she said
and they stepped out to create the storm

archaic words

2008-10-22T08:42:00.000-07:00

the great mystery of being: coming alive, breaking, opening, piecing life together, rising up and walking, embracing life, understanding all these (ings) the great process of imbibing life and letting it imbue us

Thank you Nikki Giovanni

2008-10-21T20:09:00.000-07:00

Zanmi Nikki G
this is for thee!
You, a catalyst to engender community!
writers, mothers, pager turners
of your words, ebullience
your pellucid vim!
Smiling, nodding, hoping
at the possibility of roping
time in with you- eyes meet
teeth in a smile greet
Zanmi Nikki, this is for thee!
thank you ! mil gracias ! mesi anpil!

--
October 20, at Joseph Beth Book Sellers in Cincinnati, I had the great honor of meeting Nikki Giovanni at her book signing: Hip Hop Speaks to Children (2008) and Lincoln and Douglass- An American Friendship (2008)

Favorite quips-
"We owe it ourselves to re-create ourselves!"
"Poetry says No to destruction and Yes to possibility. Poetry is a good neighbor. a good friend. a good idea. Let's write poems!"
from Acolytes (2007)

short sunday

2008-10-19T14:58:00.000-07:00

hopes
changes
birds
who rearrange landscapes
fires rains
which rescind certainty

evolution!
continuum extant ...

Lins

2008-10-18T20:49:00.000-07:00

Te extraño
estas por mi corazón,
toujou, still--
memsi, even if--
distance and deity and dissapointment

breath
blink
breath

bones 1

2008-10-18T08:18:00.000-07:00

grind these bones
go, blow wind
whooosh
friable fragments
vestiges of human structure
who walked talked did
follow'd as society commanded

go, blow wind
with exhaled breath
with migrating birds
with beaks full of seeds
with hope to sew
new beginnings

----
friable- (adj) easily crumbled or reduced to powder
vestiges- (n) a mark, trace, or visible evidence of something that is no longer present or in existence

Friday anko (again)

2008-10-17T18:58:00.001-07:00

Fall Break 2008:
my brother Dave, or DJ Chronik, is incredible
we're hoping to record some poetry/spoken word this weekend
more news when it breaks-- read Words below and let me know
your thoughts-- rlgorley@gmail.com

also- if you have any reading rec's... digame ! (speak to me)
also- check out the following for some great readings:
Undersong, Audre Lorde
Collected Poems of Audre Lorde
Collected Poems of Nikki Giovanni
Acolytes by Nikki Giovanni

peace and love

Zanmi B

Gotta Catch up

2008-10-17T18:52:00.000-07:00

Fri-dee whoo pee
home sweet ho-mee

jammin with Dav-ee
so live you life
says Ree
ahna, and life gets swallowed
by the pirhanna
dontchu wanna
get outta
the jaws

yeah shake off da slime, bite the riddle
swallow the rhyme, wind the crank
and quit the superficial mime
bust out stand up LIBERATE yo'self
shake the skin slime and sink yo
teeth into Life Lime and
squint and breathe and taste
home-n-no more waste

poem of day: wedd

2008-10-15T00:51:00.000-07:00

Allowed the freedom to fall
tumble down a hall
with painted portraits on the wall
strokes shown by my local bee flown in for a face
do not erase my memories
and how i hold them
head tilted right, slight nod
strokes rather natural wing buzzing
being of an artist is being of self

and yet still faces get
put on a shelf above
waist hight because they are
historically, profitably taste
ful, full of life

on i walk cutting my time
with a bee, hall, extant notion
with word
not with alcohol, weed or knife

poem to lovers

2008-10-14T20:05:00.000-07:00

miss you love you
you are beautiful
--an enchanting mosaic design
in the center of my heart
that blood must pass whiishh--
and pump, bom bom- bom bom
through
and was it not Dalton who deemed
this blood does not end in my veins
but continues through the veins of humanity
do you feel the warm life of human energy?
the groute between the vibrant glass pieces
stained red, burns orange and glimmers gold
each night with sunset and
purses pink -magenta magic
each morning with sunrise and
breathing in i calm my body
breathing out i smile
i uplift my heart beats remembering your - our
paved homes and streets, pieces honored and placed
memories never erased

love you always all these days

now its tuesday

2008-10-13T23:44:00.001-07:00

i see all hours of day and night
like colors in the rainbow
i hold the hose and the ray
to make a palpable prism array
ROYGBIV display, hooray
isnt rhyming gay

oh, silly rhyme
that no one will pay a dime
for
oh well, in two hours it will be
four

this is for Tuesday

2008-10-13T21:50:00.000-07:00

seconds tug on the
seams of my heart
a patchwork, pieced together palpitation
no logical explanation
except,
i tried

seconds and minutes and hours
and still the sand sliding
solves no questions, nor riddles
of heart wrenched rant drenched rhymes

no page 108 no solution to turn to
and no answer no fate
no clothes pattern to piece the organ
to palpitate and resonate
into a chorus

... oh how love implores us

Mon dehh

2008-10-13T08:00:00.000-07:00

doan-chu kno mon
dehh gots da mon dehh
blues
painted canvas stroakes
tickled iv'ree notes

set to sail out of bay
how hearts happ to floats
mon doan-chu know mon
she paints da mon dehh blues
she plays da mon dehh blues

--
Jamaican inflection

Sunday Sounds

2008-10-12T21:06:00.000-07:00

October 11
a light tree lisp slips
into my ears
like a handwritten letter
into an envelope

poem a day (PAD): saturday

2008-10-11T18:00:00.001-07:00

i love you
i dont know why
these words, my beloved, friend...
and (i know) you are never "mine"
to the very day of my life's end
you will reside in the home around the bend
the final beautiful one in my heart
with purple lilacs, orange day lilies, hammocks
hummingbirds, sunflowers and crimson clover
do you forget or remember
what walking together
felt like
to me this
was the force that pushed the sun and pulled the moon
then pushed the moon and pulled the sun
unending undulations
perdurable palpitations
aye yai yai
i take a breath, sigh, breath
my will and gravity lets
these memories, my hopes fall to the side
behind me, for one moment in my shadow
i walk on
i walk on
stepping over sidewalk cracks, uneven slabs
you blow away with leaves in the Fall favonian

friday

2008-10-10T11:59:00.000-07:00

obligations pour down like
thursday afternoon showers
a great gray sky frown
lightning charges
illuminates forehead wrinkles

looking up to the
waves of the face
soft thick and deep
gray fades into white into gray

Rilke would say
take this moment, live the questions
get wet but not washed away
in this day

already thursday

2008-10-09T00:04:00.001-07:00

i have never experienced
such stinging ringing pain
memories
as those of you
let see:
swallowing coal in throat
incessant fly in ear buzzing
gone one sec, stolen valuable
throbbing headache
fire burned down house
missed, delayed, no plane
hair buzzed off

no. still not to the threshold
of pain
which is, for me
of loss through distance
for instance: now

whats weds

2008-10-08T21:57:00.000-07:00

Wednesday
ready to fall captive
to fatigue seas
sweeping and drenching
floating rafts
not impregnable
rather, feckless
and poetry is not worthless
as i find to express
and uplift...
to NG: Poetry says No to destruction and Yes to possibility (from Creative Writing-Poetry)

and yes NG, Poetry continues to be a good idea. a good friend. a good neighbor.
and yes, let's (continue) to write poems!

PAD PAD PAD

2008-10-07T21:39:00.000-07:00

PAD: poem a day

the people in my head
said to me today
in a meeting they held
on the 8th of may
in the year of life
with too much strife

take words as your wife
soul mate, carry them
with your spirit
dreamer you are
even a dancer must have
vision, a beating heart
before twirling across floors

PAD, PAD, PAD
chanted the cheers
this was their convival-
a revival for rebecca,
for zanmi: to be true to thee
write a poem a day
unless into listless lull you
deem worthy and dive to
deep sink in the sea

ClosdDoor

2008-10-06T02:19:00.001-07:00

head buzzes like bumble bees
around my ear
in the open room
i can hear
the frequency of wings
can feel the pain of
the almost stings

oh, you are
cloaked, holy and distant
oh, i am
bare, unchurched, and near

and fear
shuts me down
wings wait and fall
an attitude of a frown
disappointment, shhh
a closddoor, no bee no honey no sweet sentiments
anymore

26 myrtil

2008-09-26T17:09:00.000-07:00

a heart groans
like thunder rumbling in the distance
a vibration,
a head turned up sensation
a deep bass
feel the weight in your limbs, in your face
blinking, thinking
being has been easier

and a boat rows into the coast
the sandy beach slows it without boast
and this heart finds hope in a home
as a billowing sail, blowing
guiding and alive, able to roam

bleeding red sail,
into a setting sun
a journey just begun

Thespian Tsunami

2008-09-16T21:07:00.001-07:00

i guess when it came down to it
i began to absorb drenching despondency
from the stage of affairs
and the affairs on the stage
on a tree branch, onlooking the moden Globe
i saw gobs of goons
going through scenes of
superficial surfeit
monsoons, floods filling extant
same shapes of silly, shakeable stupidity
trying to come up nostrils
penetrate to bone
beat ear drums
and i wanted to tweet out beauraucratic, political
mindless, foolish ludicrasies that got goons
bubbly and boppy
and
stop, sit down, understand
deep velvet reasons for vaudeville
about real, hard
maroon, gold lined feelings
and the starry eye shine emanation
that once harkened hope like lunar language light
spoken and surrounding deep darkness
levitating it, blowing cool air into it
lightly floating, spoken
traveling and tumaulting
trajedies, monotonies, comedies
into meaningful movement
steps with intentional direction
purpose, passion, belief
and vision
we are what we become, we delve deeper
to become who we are...
and the
who, how, why, where, when
one cultivate such art
and ah! yes this art...
word art
expression
lengua liberation,
gumption and revelation
to pull back the curtain
of a creaking wood floor stage,
villians, jillians and vixens of vaudeville
playing some part, filling mythological archetypal roles
like they were fluid filling glasses
society got drunk on and laughed
and then
the spectators laughed in amusement
at the
lines forgotten and kisses faked
in this everybody, nobody nation
on this superficial stage, hurricanes
of ridiculuness rage
tsunamis of thespians, actors, players
reject, refuse, resign from
real hard thinking, dedication to discovery
and
an audience an act swept away
a goon generation
drinking and drunk and winding the crank
to make everyone crunk
assuage aggravation, mutilate motivation
ease pain thru pills and cans causing alleviation
and inevitable
repression, expression decends as
he, she resists feeling the real reeling being
of
deep maroon depth and daily discovery
of
failure to tend golden lined hope,
of human identification recovery
deep and shining ecstatic eyes
emanating and not washing away
in the deluge display

and from this branch
after the insanities avalanche
all
i could do was whisper:
wake up, wake up
do you see this society casting roles
for fools and fool spectators
and
blink thinking
i am
amongst the
birds in the trees that see this thespian tsunami

back to slu- cutouts, crayons, glue

2008-09-01T15:30:00.001-07:00

i asked them
where are the pretty faces and
cement floor store places
where i can erase all
the coloring done outside of the lines

i knew how to take some of
it back,
when i drew lightly in pencil
in crayon
when i chanced to color my life
with colored wax wrapped in paper
but on paper
the random lines were drawn
and no eraser

the cut along the lines dolls
in the store behind the counter
would ask me to
sign in and to
sit and wait please, smile
and to be assured
someone will be
right with me

thats what i came for, yes?
to sign in, be documented
to wait, be patient
to be helped,
because thats what i needed, yes?

to be told or to work with someone
here is how you can...
with this you can...
if you... you need to...

and next thing you know ive got a
new paper cut out with
new arms, a solid dress color
painted and legs too
and i walk out of the store
aware if my legs stick
its because of the glue

Transition

2008-08-17T20:57:00.000-07:00

i felt like a child
and yet i still crawl

more to come...

i love you

2008-05-20T17:43:00.000-07:00

what is distance amongst friends, between lovers

even technology cannot cook up a connection enough
to satisfy
the longing hunger pang
the headache temple throb and
distance makes the marrow sob
out of the bone and into the spine

making one feel anything
but in-line with fine

oh distance you despicable design
no reason or rhyme only
a peeled, dried fruit rind
stuffed into the clock to slow the
hands from having a faster wind

oh time
oh travel
oh personal exploration, gratification, self-discovery sensation
occupation, celebration, manifestation of meaning

here in st. louis, my meaning is
to say
i love you
anywhere, anytime, anyway, -everybreath, everyday.

Fruit-- good for your health?

2008-05-10T14:00:00.000-07:00

Theres something about wealth that
Is not to sweet for your health
You stealth with a lot of wealth
Eating oranges, grapes, bananas
Any time of the year
Feeling no cold weather sneer
As you imbibe juice without jeer
The sweet taste, we appreciate? How near—
Are we to the rind as we are to the

pricked-scarred hands, Thank you
bent-ached backs, Thank you
sweat-wiped brows, Thank you
Thank you

And, too, for rain,
rain fall rain
For trees, roots sinking soil anchors and
Worm logs
And-- for cotton ball clouds caesuras
Split by holy might of a forever sun
Keeping us warm and from ravelling undone

For the sweet taste that is anything
But lethal-if-ingested oil, black murky mystery
Writing a bloody history in the
Truth tomes of time
The drip drip out the tail pipe slime
Oil, oil fall oil
Falls into barrels and soars into the chorus of chaos carolers

All we did was eat a pomegranate, a peach, a pear,
A pair of oranges, bananas, apples
We like to eat, eat, eat any day any way
Sliced, diced, chomped, peeled, unpeeled, seeds, hands, forks, with friends, on a bench, at a kitchen tile counter, while wakling, talking, knife cut up

And, was that same knife used to cut the pie of fair-share wages to profits to oil owner to oil user and
Mercy on the sky!
Mercy on the worker!
Mercy on the fruit!

We smog, we ache, we bruise easily

Being able to pick grapes of a stem gets harder
Biting into an apple’s done slower

When known is the relationship of worker-grower
When known is oil spike heeded for the fruit to come over

And a tree is just a tree, or is it not a commoditree
Commodity, excuse me, what about that fruit
In your ring fingered hand stands a quandary I
Ululate to understand

Is the fruit fair
Is the trusting truth there
Is the worker wobbly from wear
Is the Chavez1 care appare-
apparent and in the supply-demand sentiment

That’s peeled dry of emotion and squirted is the
profit potion to keep the mundo2 in motion
mass transit, interconnection, injustice infection
blood and oil and fruit and farmers

these big picture, macro-multi-complex matters
examined, seem a ship splattered at sea
sinking humanity on the t.v.

Mercy on humanity!
Mercy on money!
Mercy on trade!

What is fair? What is fresh? What is fruit?
What is in your hand

Ah, always more, to
(cut up, chew, choke, swallow, purge, digest, absorb, release) to…
understand

-----
1 Cesar Chavez led United Farmer Workers to improve rights for produce laborers 1960s-1970s
2 mundo (el mundo—the world, in Spanish)

may words/1

2008-05-05T20:26:00.001-07:00

Sometimes I think and really believe there are
One hundred minutes in an hour
And so when it says 4:55 that it is only half past four
About
And
I know I am wrong about that
And I know I am wrong about
So many other things
Like thinking you and I could be
Could be
Be
So I rearrange the ahnds on the clock to 4:75
And know its been 20 minutes and I
Have 25 more minutes to express
More thoughts (right, wrong, wrongight)

I want to melt myself into a silver ring
For you to wear on your finger
Cary me around smile down at me and say
You’re pretty
And someone will ask
That ring is so pretty where did you get it
My friend gave it to me,

And I am the ring
And I am the friend
And I am you
And I am the inquirer
I am the sunrise
I am the sunset
Illuminating and dusking you
With magenta, orange, glow
You know
That all I got is these words
Im hanging on to, hanging with this rope
Hanging on this hope
In words in you in me
In life
Connected interbeing so
And I sort out the platinum guts spewing purity
From the fake gold ones puking impurity
And I wander more in words
In clouds of dreams
In sandcastles of meaning
That always lose grip on the grains of one another
And all fall down
Making blurb blubs not headlines
Like some third world country
Twenty years after the fact that oh
We raped their country and privatized
The life out of earth and made it hell
And I still chew gum, eat too much,
Am ungrateful am guilty am a consumer
Am unmindful am weak am soft am so much
I should not be and not good
Not bad just a sick luke warm snail in a puddle
A mazy mob runs me over
And I slip on a slimy veil of superficiality
And smuggle myself through the world of surfeit
Make believe that I care
Make believe that I dare
The world, the you, the us
With these words that are rants
No prophetic chants
They are my soul spewing
They are the water in the well bucket
Eternally dropped and pulledup
Slake us slake us
Don’t take or break us
The world has seen that before
And is too busy getting the agency to get
The clean up crew back to aisle 2
To get the mops and clean up the bones and goo
And while the splatter scatters onto matters of surfeit
Of sickness and what
I just stant there, a witness
A fucking photographer, clicking the moment with
Words with letters on a labtop made in ___
Shipped with, by oil
Opened up by the hands of a woman paid less than a mans
Put on a shelf by a part time Latino who cant ask for more dough
In a store lit with electricity through a wire through coal burning somewhere
In a country hissing ENERGY CRISIS FOOD CRISIS MORTGAGE CRISIS WAR CRISIS like it’s the time and this raging inertia rubs too hard and chafes our eye lids
And
Will I think about the moment the tree was cut down to
Be energy for me, to give oxygen to my needy needy lungs
And my steady heart that just keeps going – hey, thanks heart
From some tree that was chosen by the consumer gods to be energy not paper

I think I don’t want to do anything anymore for you academia
You have squeezed me dry
I am a juiceless grapefruit, lemon, lime
Picked by the hands of a child, held with a smile
Sitting at the base of a tree, peeling the rind of the day
Sitting, fixated and gay in the moment
In love with all regardless of …
Without face, with a respiring story
Of hope of human connection- reaching upward is looking into the
Ocean of your eyes and walking on the wooden boards of your soul
Through time, space, ocean waves and sand grains
Into euphoria the moment an apogee, a sacrosanct crest
The moment
Ah
I breathe
And transform my world

Make a Difference Day?

2008-04-25T20:00:00.000-07:00

What we need is
Not more make a difference days
We need every day to be about
Making a difference

By not living opposingly differently
But by recognizing how
Similar we are
Two ears two eyes one mouth
Beating hearts
Circulating blood
Taste budded tongues and
Nails on fingers, toes that grow

What we need is
Not more singular make a difference days
What we need is
Not respect life weeks
Meaning one week long
One day long

We need
Love without getting tired
We need encouragement for voices
We need stretched, deep wells for ears…
We need organization, direct (non violent) action direction
We need synergy, unity
Acceptance as real as spring blooms
Blooming every day
Right
And left
Not asking them to take a middle view
They take their view, openly
Like sidewalk cracks
Allowing for time to contract the two
Into one mosaic tapestry that is the map
To which we are all coming and going
Looking for treasure
Dressing up for ones self
Celebrating ourselves
How we are different and how we are
Similar
And how we need to stand
For ourselves, palms up
And how we need to walk
With one another, carrying eachother
Laughing and smiling and letting tears
And wild screams uplift and move the clouds
Around the universe as we
Flirt our friction and tickle one another
With it like feathers on the neck
Instead of on the chopping block
Guillotine, no efface the marine
Who masquerades as a man of peace
Marine man
Your two ears two eyes one mouth
Stop and breathe with me for a moment
As We watch people pass by
And I see you
You see me as your
Sister brother
And we understand
Breath, breathing, seeing, seeking to understand
How difference can be made
Every day
Every moment
The difference is us acting differently
By acting openly, understandingly
Palms up, eyes open, breathing
With one another

Seriously but simply and
Ego weapons disarmed
Vulnerability a yo yo reeled no longer
Now, sitting on the table, with the
Broken hour glass
No sand shall measure our time
This time, this moment is all we have
The us, the you, me one in
Waking, laughing, lurching backwards
If we must, life
Not progress we value but
Truth
Justice, dignity, respecting me
Understanding you
To unearth that thing called love
That the Beatles said was all we need
And poets and artists and everyone scratches
Their head, marries, moves, mates with and for
And is silent and sweet and misunderstood and hot
Flames and is sung about, rhymed about, holiday'd over
And on and on and on
The thing called love
Is really about understanding
The commonality of us
The community of mosaic tapestry
We, the you and me, tile and weave
We are the ocean
We are the sand
We are the sun and the rain
We are the tree
We are
One in the waking, breathing, yawning
Sun rising
Sun setting life
Smiling at the moon in mid day
Not symmetrical or
Media naranjas just simply
Quilt pieces, body parts

Together, open palm understanding
The problem with
Make a difference day
Make a difference day suggests you
Can make a difference one day
You can only see poor people one day
For one afternoon, take the picture and
Go home
Take a shower, take a nap, plan for a party
And go on, feeling warm and do smething for someone else tingly
And get a tshirt, and wear it and be happy
And talk about the poor kids you hugged, the garden you
Planted and sweat beads you shed
And im disgusted, give me a barf bag because
Im going to hurl the truth out and its gonna putrid puke stink
And
Make a difference day is
About living sidewalk crack open
Mindful of vicissitides, vestiges, vims, and voids
And setting vengeance aside like its veal and you’re a vegetarian
And on and on and on and on
Open, eyes open, clouds open
To pouring rain, to cool, for earth to imbibe
Cool openness, purification sensation
And are you OPEN to education, awarness
Beyond chalkboard monotony
Are you Open to experience, to putting your feet
Forewad, to sitting on a bench and observing, listening
To a hungry, thirsty homeless child
On the streets of st. louis as the business men in ties
Walk with buisines partners
Are you Open to perspectives, plural
And to the two eyes two ears one mouth of the child
And the two eyes two ears one mouth of the man
And
Around I go like a carousel like a planet in orbit
And like a nervous person pacing
Knocking on your door, seeking to understand how
You and I will seek to understand
Openly
And be one in our humanity
Of respect, dignity and
What are our minds and our souls and hands
And the steps of each and the path we walk
We step away from and retrace and look for
Those we lost and

I am not a dreamer
I am you
Two eyes two ears one mouth
I am
Waking, yawning, stretching with
All these people walking by
In lion, tiger, zebra costumes
And I don’t know where they are going
With their two eyes two ears one mouth
With their make a difference day sshirts
And they are making a difference on the dance floor
And to their date
And why does makign a difference have to be a one
Day one night deal
Cause im here to tell you
If youre still here
That its not, its not different tomorrow
Than it is today
Todays need for you to, if you need to
Be living “differently” that is, with openness
For Understanding than live differently
With this understanding-openness
There is no make a difference day
For everyday, in each moment allows
Understanding to know
Two eyes two ears one mouth

We all want to see, to hear
To speak, to be listened to
And to make a difference every moment
To someone by this understanding-openess
This love this respect
One person
The world, one
Mosaic tapestry moun la gente
Today!

a first draft replied Howl to A. Ginsberg

2008-04-21T00:33:00.000-07:00

a rough, first draft, but a replied howl to you, A. Ginsberg:

the best minds remain,

starving, histerical, naked

or is it,

purging, apathetic, overdressed

i think about the piercing splitting dichotomies
as they drum a drone
as they drizzle daggers into my
sternum
rib cage split, ragin pit of eternal hellecstasy

ghoulish, neon american city night light powered by
some energy source
we hear about on a news headline
housing crisis, not adult, does it matter

my thoughts
run through red lights
and become crashed, collateral damage
for my culprit, guilty sweat arm pit mistake
and i cant take
it
back

and i thought about the place i walk out my door to
the place i walk in my door from
and
the place is called Saint Louis University
college,
where the dichotommies are so dangerous
"they" are still working on creating the
caution tape to warn the

purging, apathetic, overdressed

because if we were, the starving, histerical, naked

we would be okay, and an okay not prescribed by an Indian in a white coat
not prescribed by some supercorporate drug company with a butterfly mascot
or another sick smiling face endorsement
no, its not that im out of shape bent
i never had no shape at all
no label
just madness

starving, histerical, naked -- mad

how could i not defy the drizzling dagger madness
denting, carving ditches into my fungi spongee acme mind
moldy mushrooms, no roots

just rooted in cloud castle fortitude-dreaming truth
hey,
at least thier perdurable un precipitating clouds

let me tell you
what i know, its what
i see

major wise let me stroll down the roll call--

i went to wash my hands in the bathroom
i heard the lunch from pancreas
purging the soup and panini
so she could fit in the spring break bikini
- even if your no nutritionist
your just a perfectionist headsicktwistedist
you know
that mucus bile plasma smell
how it looks a clear web on your hand
sick sick sick

i went to get coffee and outside
the pre med Indians and type A sons of
lawyers, doctors, laser surgeons
in there for the money, in there for their parents pressure cooking
there brains rattled like thanksgiving turkeys
and we're all so thankful
for the doctors who
knock on the patient door on christmas, new years eve
on easter egg and jesus hatched morning
on passover, wait does that matter?
and these bio kids, scratching latin labelling lexicon into the frontal lobes with
their
laser pointers, searing the information gearing for mcats
while in the other hand, not laser pointer crippled
a cigarette
Marlboro poster child?
oh they defiled the hospital tile
with their
black lungs
and thats enough, the doctors been stung
quick, someone climb the last ladder rung for the
eppy pen

i went to get on the bus
and i saw the social work sisters
stepping out of the cab in 3 inch shiny heals
waving earrings,
waving to friends in ties and designer eye glasses
sleek pants
swishing not really cause thick thies
too many ice cream and steak fries rib eyes
dont recycle
dont bicycle to work, spend money like exhaled breaths
gone
cognizance gone
aware-mindfulness gone
selfish snoot social work sister, dating a fancy pants mister
why are you here, did you not hear
your not gonna keep this up you yup yup
next thing you know i got on the bus
swiped my card, the bus driver said, 'sup

i saw the best minds

dumping their brains into bongs
lighting up and taking off

i saw the best minds

purging up and out perfection
painting their memories with lumpy saliva

i saw the best minds

give in desire to be out, to do do do, make new lists, do do do
and eschew simple being, being, be

i saw the best minds

reducing perspective, suffocating in self surfeit
a self seeking ken so so bleak

i saw the best minds

shrivel, peeled orange rind to apartment air consgined
hardened, futile design

i saw the best minds

pretend, ignore, deny they werent the best, or even good at all

i saw the best minds

judge, jury, jest, jab, jolt, jab again, joust hubris that they were the only minds

i saw the best minds

or, did i see any minds?

or, was everyone a face in a gone world
was i the
only one with a
great big hungry eye

was i the only one
celebrating myself

was i the only one
calling you by your true name

was i the only one
wailing outside closed church doors

was i the only one
recycling glass juice bottles

was i the only one
listening to the smoggy sky burdens

was i the only one
who heard Mr. tambourine man

was i the only one
who believed god is a tree leaf

was i the only one
who knew Romeo and Juliet faked death

was i the only one
telling Martin to not stay at Lorraines

was i the only one
who told Eisenhower to recall his cabinet of Ford, Chrysler cronies

was i the only one
calling A. Finch to see if he could talk to Bush, tell him to walk a mile

was i the only one
Bono, no, your right, we carry eachother

was i the only one
i, you, she, he one the only

minds

tack sharp, mountain steep iceberg deep
chameleon creep, ing along, one song of madness
moshing, meditating in time with this madness song
replayed like a giant gong

on and on
om and om

on, on, on, up a hill steady- down a hill, not ready
to get back down again, looking for a friend

not to be the only one

mind

starving histerical naked
purging apathetic overdressed

not middle road medium mind, fine with a complacent spine

no, no.
yes, no i wont play you in chess
id lose in three moves

this mind mad mind you
searching searching for truth to imbue
for truth to imbue

you

so that im not the only one wondering
where why how now the best minds
curl dried up like defunct orange rinds

in hayena hysterics, bulimic barricks, where they
walked up the steps but did not knock on the door
for fear, of stepping in and falling thru a chasm crack in the floor
lost allure, can never be sure

best minds, only minds
you and i
still not sure if we one of a kind

but in a kind of way we be
humyn kind

unwind that

you, melange, myriad minds.

you, Ginsberg, hows this howl rewind...

Bonswa

2008-04-19T23:04:00.000-07:00

thank you for checking out this site filled with words (of poetry) i've written

im looking to get a collection printed, to keep reading, writing, observing life and expressing it

[ let me know of any events/poets/photographs/music you think i should know about ]

peace.love.joy.

Zanmi Rebe

POG

2008-04-16T20:20:00.001-07:00

It was
The tears of our mothers
Or the fears of our fathers
Tucking us in
With the
Sheets
At night
With the
Songs
At twilight
Twinkling stars and more moons than one
As we boarded boats on a bright bon voyage to the sun
In camouflage
Chuckling with chameleons
Who thot they were one in a million
Little did they know
They were a million in one
Cajoling consoling colors camping out in chasm between chaos and cheer
Tents bridging, being, terrifically strong (in them chameleons mated and did belong)
And
Pillows where heads lay
Tears fell
Fears melted silence
Like dripping candle wax onto skin
And ow
The heat from your heart hurts
I cant sleep in spurts
The bon voyage became an entourage
Of unwelcomed guests knock knock knocking
At my door
Imploring to explore me more more and
Didn’t they know
After the tears of my mother
Or the fears of my father
As if in class, my eyes were absent of angelic allure
Even the chameleons faded into the floor
So, we picked them up, a small chore
Got paid for selling them in the store
Where we bottled up joy and sold it, too
For a flashier, funnier toy, a new
football, or some junky clinquant
And
I grew gray haired, tired, a robot unwired
And
archaic
and
an Asian sacrosanct temple
I was, I am
I still
Remember more moons and chameleons
Crawling into spoons
Than I do the tender tunes
At twilight
Sheets
Tuck me in, good night
Taking the mask, placing it over my plight
Of nightmares goons
Under myriad moons
Forever washed over
In wax, whisked to the shore
with chameleons crawling into tents
Bridging the divide:
safe-warm sleep somber dreaming

and
fearful tearful streaming
The tears of our mothers
And the fears of our fathers
Forever and ever more

American Hands

2008-04-09T01:31:00.000-07:00

one sunday morning
a
seed planter, placed
a
seed, with
two American hands,

of a solider who fought in Vietnam
of a separated father of four
of a sun leathered brow
of a new lover, a new door to walk out of
of a series of publisher's rejection letters
of a developing, capturing, film fantastic habit
of a candle making, green bean boy
of a hinterland drawn to school by a great urban magnet
of a limp in the only one pair of jeans

of a human ...living without label lexicon

all the days until the last seed is
gone

POG

2008-04-08T18:57:00.000-07:00

Tired
Bobbing my head
On the waves lapping on sand
Sea foam, mind roams
Tired
Yawning, mouth open
Lay this head
Down

Tired
You are in my heart
Playing a soft violin
A cool
Congo drum
Cajoling soul-ing
An alma all noche
As im approaching
The sun over the
Flat mississipi soy bean field
Six a, m, sun rise

Tired
All night
Foaming, lapping
Lambent energy
Of water to wade in
Music our lives are made in
Carved out of time
And the celestial symphony

Falling asleep under stars
Up for hours
Sun light, rain drops dew on
Flowers

POG

2008-04-04T22:12:00.001-07:00

I am

Therefore

I breathe

Therefore

I question

Why the realities of life
Seem
crumpled up pieces of paper
dejected bottom rung rejects
burning in barrels

I am

Therefore

I breathe

Therefore

I write

Fireworks smoky, red bright kites finding
Illuminous pathways to panacea

I am

Therefore

I breathe

Therefore

I reach

Into the veins of life
Vaporized by visceral vicissitudes
Into vivid vim

Light the match of my life
A flame flickers
Orange

And I, like plain prices of life, rise rise rise
Moods like bombs drop drop drop
An Economy a horse halt to a stop
Radio waves wink commercialized doo wops
Mali mali flip flops
Priced putrid cheap
whos gonna mop
Up the sandal scandal slop
The veteran, bearded, limping pop
Who knows the badfare of welfare and headache nightmare
Of certain turned chasms gapingly unfair

He was black, not a solid square
Mold, not molding or melting to any berate belting
pelting His dignity out the open window
of by me where
I sit on the adjacent ledge
Stare at the sashaying clouds
Feeling a funk in favonian design

I can only imagine
All the people living life in peace
and THAT is the problem
(that are asked if we CAN imagine, dare we imagine world peace running smooth like a pageant)
and so, the (truth, empowerment, belief) pushed aside:
remains the root of the rotting tree of lies
that we can only imagine peace, not work toward it piece by piece

so so so, so what?
well this mentality
Makes me despise
Every assuaging disguise
Fed to me, chalkboarded to me, engraved in me, stared at me

Monster under my bed: complacency
-- silent acquiescence whose roar is a stealth snore

Dragon in my closet: ignorance
-- hangin’ up to cloak depth, awareness to detail

Rotting here
In a sweat shop shirt
From another ambulance shredding my
Brain like a white piece of paper
Rotting here
Rolled over one side of my heart molds
An opening let in cool, clammy atmosphere
Gray fuzzy fungi fester-appears
And I fear fear fear
These words go from

Clouds to pavement
Splish splash drizzle drips
Do puddles
Muddling thru fact and fiction
Don’t like dramatic diction

Life
Beyond conflagrating conflict friction
Is fiction
If we believe that

All we are saying is give peace a chance
But if we don’t believe it has a chance
Then theres no chance itll get that chance

give choice a chance
brain halves parted
heart bloated, farted, carted
into clarity, lucidity like spring air
Midwest morning dew atmosf-air

Open minds open air
Do not despair, you tell me with a concerned stare
I step back from the tide you wash up on my shore
I implore the heavens

I question

therefore

I write

therefore

I breathe

therefore

I am

POG-- Grand

2008-04-03T22:35:00.000-07:00

land of Grand

perdon-eh-mwah

could you tell haw
ahem, ahem
how
one gets down up down Grand

how one traverses Grand?
let me count the ways...

holding a lovers hand, smiling,
quibbling, scribbling memories on the heart's skin

scolding a runny nose child
desperately daring to be wacky, wobbly wild

waiting for a 70 bus to civic station
no matter the occupation or to water tower no matter the hour

taking the 70 bus, imbibing crazies, smokies, lazies, workies
digesting segregation like a plant root
choking on judgments

driving a car with the radio on
singing head bobbing in another world

walking with a cigarette in hand
thinking, rhyming lines of life to understand

running, scrambling like eggs on high
heat, feet in a fleet to greet work on time

begging, asking for money, change
bus fare, what can you spare, (do you care)

catching every red light, swearing
or rolling under red lights, swearing

looking out the window, over your shoulder
broken brick or a new RFT restaurant pick

observing, permitting the side walk cracks
to swallow you up

standing back up, brushing off,
get up with a cough and alls not lost
at all

just stumbling, swearin, bus fare-in,
money sharin, rhyme carin, music blarin,
mommas eyes starin, lovers pairin
bus waiters glairin,
all people goin like wind, time, rusty wheel rhymes

this is the Grand design
to which st. louis sojurners consign

POG

2008-03-31T21:47:00.000-07:00

Wiggle worm
Waddle walk
Wander whale
Into a sand pail
Orange
Part of the castle
Washed by a wave hastle
Twas a fast pull
Back flat

(then in a trice)

An oyster spat
At the worm
Who wouldn’t wiggle no more
Who couldn’t waddle walk
for
The wandering whale
She
Got lost in the pale
In the castle frail
And water wind gale

POG

2008-03-28T15:37:00.001-07:00

Lover, call me
on a payphone
on a Monday
afternoon
under rainshine
moonshine

darling, dear
you want to be near?

my lips, smiling

head tilted
two touching tulips
wilted
kisseding

POG/2

2008-03-27T17:51:00.000-07:00

POG/3

flying flirting butterfly wings
wandering wistfully within wisteria willows
elucidating elan in Elysium
enamored by ebullient eternal creation

capacious joy in hopeful promise
sprouting love life love life
whispering water, a cool cataract crackles open
an interstice of auspicious acme
for tinkling, blinking and winking wings
to whisper, flirt in the extant exuberance

blooming bursts ... yellow ! blue ! green !
from the terra firma forms a sotto voce
sacrosanct, and subtly stentorian
subtly sundering stygian surfeit
-- a mighty light, luculent moment:
an interstice interpolated by keen kisment

O Soul limn a conspectus
of this laudable lachrymose land
a copacetic conflation
a cloud's caesura radiating rays
an opening of earth, lips open, asking for fresh filling favonian favor

O soul, o daedal providence !
arising air lighter in the sun ray rhythm a cascading cataract
nascent and yet cresting, growing, glowing CREATION!
exudes from every moment
a terra transmogrified, transcended into cool chimerical canoroous canoodles
life a leitmotif, laughing
insouciant ineractions and reactions

a catalyst, cloud carried, creating concupiscence

an apogee of agape

Prose of Gorley/1

2008-03-27T17:49:00.000-07:00

Golf is stupid
Anxiety is hell-- stygian is anxiety
Unrequited love bites a chunk out of my heart
PLanes' white streams make kites self-conscious
Racism, sexism, phobias, violence, injustice
(i see it) shrivel-dying, dead, dead
Breath
Long hair streams
Women are beautiful
Equal opportunity loving, today-tomorrow, always
Realism can stem from the roots of ideas, ideals
Ameican values need to be shaken like moracos, rattled like riddles
Screaming, running exertion, expression remains
not only necessary but salubrious
Man made things always require repair, update
Nature lasts, self heals
Survival over competition
Singing, dancing, art-ing engenders loveing
Use both brains
Have a life yur heart beats for
Technology skewed like an ill screwed screw
throwing up over putrid placement
Long distance friendships, families, lovers ... aghh-aches
hurts like seething sunburn
Self examination... crucial
Mindfulness ! Mindfulness ! Mindfulness !
Loneliness feels like an old toy dropped for a new one
Human beings humble, repsect, seek to understand and
if possible, (please) love yurself, ourselves, one anothr
Appreciate salud (well being-health)
Watch less t.v.
Drink more water, not in bottles... and less
bubbly, spike bevruhgiz (duh, dump da fizz)
Walk more
Listen truer
Be real and take it easy
Persersevere, Persevere ! with courage, joy, humility, and wisdom
Care for yourself
Remember non attachment when you feel like yur half of a shell's
clamped down on some thing/one other half of a shell
Let the way the sun makes diamonds on the water
imbue yur heart, mind, soul
Creativity always respires, never expires
Insert vibrancy and truth into life, like a daily vitamin (mom's minding), shower (boyfriends biding)
or... walk (well by-ing)
Think critically, ask questions... why? whenwherewhowhatwhywhywhyhow!?
Smile, at a tree, with a tree... in the moment
Do less
Liberate yur life-- walk barefoot, take a day off, live beyond yurself
Discover relentlessly
Open pockets, doors, windows, souls
Energy buzzes
Renewal, revolution, revving, motion
Constant cacophonous, changing commotion

Poetry

2008-03-22T13:18:00.000-07:00

What i Meant to Say...

i will not be assuaged, assualted
fallin an' falted
apprehensive, achin an' awry, wearily wiltin waste
dont think bout throwin mea'way
coverin me up with gray paste

i have been so deplorable, so sore
no mas, no mas, no more-
i now trek an' implore

the me in life, the life in me

i be me

standing close eyed lids over open eye balls imbibing eternal intricate existence
salubrious ! salutating !
sunshine rays on face
savvy: lips smile
bones, body, blood happy
(im) like (my) brown hair blowing with breeze
wispy lightly

so so so lately,
wound up wire
with vines vexing vituprously in mire
of a patriarchal world saluting to 'sire'
feel like mush all moshed around jumpin to no sound
just heart beat pound pound
pound. slam bam. rammin like rowers
didnt you know her
head too hot, steamed her ahead
kept her up late rather than sleepin in bed
Red mad Red love Red salsa
hot fresh tomato spice dicin up life
breakin apart pieces already broken
turnin broken bricks into token tricks
for sale like lemonade
saturday's garage sale ceramic whales
whalin, balin out blues from big mouth bellows
to all the fellows feelin cacophanous cavils
anwers,: worlds been doin nothin reply
to question: whats up world?

back of the classroom, clamoring contestation "i know ! i know !"
hand sprouting with definitive determination
no, no, the former contestation was a foul, false formation
a vestige
a verdad reveals: nothins up for the world
a sordid sinking, swirling whirlpool washing
faces places traces and graces drastically irevocably down
wondering, wandering wad of hell and heaven wonder
assuaged, assualted, at fault for fictional blunder

so so so wired into mire no no no
answering a fervent desire to rise-inspire

reclamation
-- RECLAIM who YOU are.
(reclaiming who I am)

fight the false phonie fictional
battle staring idly squashed by proposterous prattle
whale's whalin right with: a cacophonous cavil
world yields to nothin but: unravel
mode, oh no... hit the stop bottom NOW
erosion, explosion, one giant waste mass of smelly ass
bubbling up dead grass (brown) and lake bass
bellowing from bowels of Big Foot and TRex's sand
land, Mickeys small world afterall
the whole thing in His hands

here I am running down every street, hallway, trial, village
perspicacity, perseverence, pissed off privilege
where who when why whats the plan
gotta wanna havta understand
the whales, rocks, worlds rammin and bangin
trees knocked and sliced to aid surfeit
...for coal, homes, bridges, books, paper (guilt)
a monsoon of madness
maunders in my mind-- a blind
bearded white man (eck, why?) in
a robe, a magician? a wizard?
from Oz or Ontario
whats the dealio
the point's dilatory like
a slow death, on Easter-- shit, one year. fuck.
observe obscenities wonder insanities
incessant, insouciant inklings, stretchings so unsoothing
barely fill the space
the crossword blocks with brilliance
never get anywhere without the next days answers
which when arrived
throwya back to yesterdays uncertaintys curse

and what am i sayin, standin needin interpretin
the lunacy so as not to perceive piracy
so as to... jump outta my quilted quagmire
jiggle the locked rusty door knob
jimmy the keys unlocking the secret of being
to carve the stamp, open the ink, one two three four
ready to label you, me, some more
check off the last, midd, first of yur chores
im no toilet to clean
no clothes to put in a washin machine
no friend to apologize for bein mean
to, no plane to book to catmandu
no, i'll tell you the answer to the riddle i know
the right way to sew out of the quagmire status quo
then, crossurhertanhopetonot die once you know

open eye ball livin
constantly givin
your face to the mase feel the zing sting ring
sound of th ebell wishin you could escape this hell
LIFE-- raw, bleeding blasphemous minutia
is eye open, eye balls wide so white
want to touch
with the end of a paint brush
capture the ululating rush
always always shhh'd up in a hush
STOP LYING. START CRYING.
pick your nose
prick your finger on a thorny rose
to kno you bleed if you have to
to know yor alive
if you must prove the marrow, mind, muscles and
mess
you, you the only, the best path you have to ride
not one blink, breath, being to hide
ride. decide. chide and choose this life is
yours to hold, not to lose
breathe thru yur nose sniffle if you must
aware of past, future, present or else it'll be a bust
never carved, shaped, shared, did or dared
this moment not the end another hill, stream, around the bend
let life in, open gates of your guarded giant glorious
castle
be a rascal
rebel against complacent, monotonous tradition
notice the rocks and their fissions
have nothing but 'being' yor mission
gladly, humbly wash the dishes
swallow hard, dont damp dry yur armpit sweat
get grass as you
roll down the hill, love deep, true
and perhaps what will lead to
laughter in lands, plans... receptive likeopen glands
eye balls engaged in life
yes yes yes yes yes
engaged benevolence, malevolence
no no no but yes
eye balls open white sockets touched, paint brush
pciture of mutilation (NO more), violent sensation
no MORE horror knockin bangin in the drawer
(if you, alive with it) open it read it feel it bleed it
dont bow or disavow, decide it
be part in confiding the cacophany
terrorizing the terra
to you me cher, and yogi berra
oprah and the soap-a washing the dirt and
grime after a sweaty sordid day time
trek searchin for the malevolence you hadnt felt yet
in your drawer something
never held, worn, shown before
an assailing allure
aching breaking taking good and slaking it with
splintered wood pieces sticking into
your wrinkled forhead creases
walking around needing a new lease on life
agghhh the strife
carve the splinters out with a knife
see the scars subtly sore
world in an absolutely zoo-ish caged uproar
peeled bak raw, oozing out the jaw

billowing sails blundering over braille
system back to sqaure one
hurry come here, the worlds almost undone
Haiti a hell dump pot rank in dictatorial doom-ruin
wrecking ball US out heckling at the gates
of life-- jesting in the face of grief
here, here, hear words: iraqoccupation, palestinegazawestbankisreal, darfur, kenya, americancities, elsalvador
on and on, more and more

my life, (yours), an open door
cogitate, consider compassionate implore
ing, denotes a process in the moment
accepting the dingbats, dangers, goofheads, guidos, open guts and demon dents
ladies and gents
jambo
bonswa
nee hao
kumbya, salaam,
sianoranever

always hello
always eye balls open
door ajar
's as hard as heaving anvils far
going by King's ark
set yur feet and mak yor mark
light, fan, shineshare yor spark
in the cool, damp tortured corner dark
singing canourously, lucidly: an illuminating lark
both hands placed on breathing tree bark

swim when at the sea
or feel free to let it be
to sit and see, sunrays imbue you resolutely
as cloud grays gather disulliosonley
honesty

to celebrate myself (thanks Walt)
fingernails, hair, heart beat, sweating arm pits, two feet gets
every word, picture, value, belief
every moment momentum moving
love real as sunshine
leaves's susurrous, water garrulous
life-- pealing back its ring
biting into juicy sweet orange find

be
beating
majestic simple beauty
wrenching sad beauty

imbing, searching, inviting

me into my life
the whale, the war, the world
as it unravels i race to the split root origin
mother earth moon star virgin
the riddle is the answer sayeth plenary providence
heart, eyes, palms, paths open hence
for life to be given any chence

stop the charade
pink ponies prance in a phony parade
search, uncover Truth, a once vestige
mind steadfast and resolute
to spin the wheel of myriad metaphors meant to elucid
-ate extant, my, your existence
must have us some substance
when yor all you got
you got alot
sit in the spot connec the dots
connect you to you
how youfeel, live, break, take give
your part in the room-- rocking, digesting
listening, open eye balling
world unraveling in a pulled out drawer
decide, decide... the life in you
the you in life
cannot be considered trife

epilogue:
not sure what it all means
take it for how what where when
it seams
pocket to pants
stuch in a trance
entreat you to step on yor feet
walk thru sun,snow,sleet

let you meet you- the life in you
you in life
in all the itty bitty pieces
in all the tremendous tapestries
of moment
of vida, vie-eternal be,

and i BE

Poetry/5 ?

2008-03-13T22:18:00.001-07:00

What is the purpose of today?

I am on the verge of exploding. Imploding. Collapsing.
In the search of me
This being who breathes, eats, needs, reaches
Likes chocolate and sugar
Sweat and good runs
Likes women, lips, eyes, compassion

Aches, breaks, seeks while
Putting on the same deodorant for weeks
Making goals, planning and forgetting
Losing interest, renewed, turned off, turned onnn

Dark chocolate, lemon sorbet
Memories of childhood
Structure, soccer, heterosexual spinning world
Open fridge
Swinging around lazy susan
One
More
Time

Depressed like a flat bike tire
No where to go
Out of shape, out of steam
Out of luck
Out of the (closet)?
Only to a few
In denial
In a funky sad space

Wondering
Could you
Be … my mother? No my friend, lover,
Media naranja
Like him, like her, I, we love, love life
In its stretching
Aching, beating like drums
Burning like candles
Blazing like stoners
Baking like bread
Active like yeast
Proud like thunder
Humble and present like mice
Yeah we’ll throw the dice
For a roll
A shamrock and roll
All the way up up up to the golden gates
With more sun and bounce than California
More sweet than Sweden
More run than Iran more rocks than Iraq
And that last line was stupid
Almost peculiarly putrid
And the ring rang rag renders a rusty rhyme
Like a wagon wheel
Squeaky squawking for grease
And its not
Coming
Off

And the beat duh duh duh duh duh duh
Goes on
Like this lonely ole feeling
Cant shake it
Cant bake it
Cant fake it
I just can’t do it Simon
Cause Cecilia’s still breakin my heart
And the bridge over troubled water’s
Joined London and’s fallen down down down
And im bum dumpty like Humpty
But a rainbow humpty that’s seen life
And broken like a mosaic tile texture
Into a million little pieces
Sand grains
NYC new years confetti
Rain drops
Blood cells

I want to leave
Screaming
Running
Frolicking in fields
With sunshine and wild flowers
Not tripping I swear, I promise, I cross my heart
And don’t hope to die
For life is and can be good
But what is this awful monotonous day
Of drinking and living so
Surface shallow
Give me depth or give me death
I LOVE YOU
People, neighbor, friend
I LOVE You
Why can and do we not make, take, break time
Into bigger pieces
For one another
Why blame
Why cut out
Stomp on
Angry eye
Mistreat, don’t treat
Abuse, neglect
Blah blah blah bad bad bad
To people people people
And in my heart
Within my being
My breathing
This beating beating soul
Is the capacity to COME ALIVE
To be ALIVE
To breathe deeply
To be sunshine
To be rain
To sink roots like a tree, make friends with worms and soil
And yet
I’m parched, I’m lonely
Wanting wanting wanting more
Depth, not shallow surface superficial suffocating unsubstantial surfeit

Take it away
Remove it from sight
Bring a new canvas
A new palate
This spark is lit
The wick shortens
Flame finds oxygen, burns brighter
Deeper, deeper, deeper
Out of the darkness
Into the sun
With the fields, friends, flowers, the real life of truth, beauty, justice, movement, change
Of DECISION of meaning
What is the purpose of today
What is/was today’s purpose? Meaning? Value?
What have I been taught, what did I teach
What did I say too softly, too brashly or not say at all?
Where and when was I present? Intentional

Not aching, breaking, tearing my teeth out of
My gums
Bleeding
Belly aching, headaching from hunger
Running shorts flying up
And looking, for you
For a friend
For love
For a kind smile, for lips, a warm body
To laugh and hold
To read and be bold with
In a new way

The zanmis call it
Equal opportunity loving
And yes, I have signed on the line
This line of life
Love
Agape
And and and

Today has taught me to love
The purpose of today: to love

Life writing-poetry

2008-03-05T21:02:00.000-08:00

The only beauty real in me now
shines from capacious clinquants
coo, coo and chatter, flirting from (my) extolling flatter

the moment where beam meets surface, hot and cold, paradox
beholding the interstice as it gleams, echoes, whispers, encaptures....

I, eye, behold diamonds in this moment

traffic travels. a sweet winter sussurous checks the clock, debates how long it will stay (cooling st. louis)

I, eye, behold diamonds in this moment

i let down the bucket, into the wellspring of
my soul
a wondrous world waltzes, wilts, wades, warns of collision

i, eye, behold diamonds in this moment

a diamond, a rock. sharp. treasure
effervescent and eternal

i, eye, behold, diamonds in this moment

i, eye, behold, but never hold such treasure, like the moment, wind, sun ray on water sparkle

ooh, ah, gone-- over, becoming, turning, over
made audible: tinkling high piano keys
or laughter, a bubbling creek, falling, feeling familiar soft stones

i, eye behold diamonds

di. meaning
more than one, split, intricate, fragmented, searching desperately

this moment: no more than tinkling, searching, flirting, bursting, hiding, resurface-flecting diamonds

enlightenment (quizas)
life: undulating lake waves unfathomable

beneath the chimerical glory of light, you, me, the us, the undulating pain and pleasure makes no sense
no categorizable, cognizant calculation

i, eye behold diamonds, in this moment

(and, too) the lapping sound of lunging lake water on stones
vicissitudes. interstice. stitching together pieces... frayed, chipped
(and,) facets, fascinated fully enraptured by

eternal (evolution) all of all
cosmos to caterpillar

water and sun diamond spiritual science
no, rather it is not either spiritual or science
simply the now
painful beautiful interconnectedness
-meaning, filling, holding (my) life, eyes transfixed

miasma uplifted
-- suffering stammers, screams
-- joy jumps, jests

i breathe. i hold this moment

a mosaic masterpiece behind me

vibrant, verdant

....the only action meant for this moment asks quietly for my life to be open

open as the eye beholds sun miracle upon the water (dull and cold)

dull and cold
hot and melting

--the waving, warned moments of collision
struggle for air, life beyond strife
the diamonds
another side of the facet
not so peeled back raw
but a living call
echoing like waves, like wind, like diamonds

i, eye behold diamonds

gleaming glory
flirty flurry
hasty turnover, indecisive
individually, collectively
as diamonds are one, two, one hundred, one thousand and beyond

understanding elements: sun and water
under extancy, from, because of experiences

mosaic of my life thus far

here,
a tear for humility
smiling with hope
a mandate for humanity
returning to dignity

here,
a bridge to stand under, to cross and meet
the way sun meets water

transmogrifying dull and cold into
genuine, ebullient, bubbling, humble, radiating treasure in the blink of an eye, a moment

i, eye behold the diamonds of this moment

Poetry

2008-02-18T22:30:00.000-08:00

oh sweet fragile life
broken into pieces

pretzel crumbs
eye lashes
mosaic tiles
crossword boxes
water drops
a fallen ceramic plate

holding in these two hands
the moment
the pieces

blinking, sharing in the brokenness
smiling with the life that is within
a wick still lit,

golden eye warmth, friend laughter
idle reminiscing chatter
against the house a ladder
i sit on, safely

the vim of this virago
mountain west wind, a desert storm
a tumultous tide-- a river current ride
tree trunk humility and aware
smiling, moment by moment recieiving
imbibing, being imbued
embraced, startled and inevitable renewed

wind rushing past rocks and twig strand pieces
storm carrying sand grain pieces
tide turning water and ocean bit pieces
tree trunk breaking pieces, losing branch pieces

oh sweet fragile life
up in the wind, around in the tide
rooted and yet able to break, to fall
to grow anew
to know wholeness, brokenness and the chasm

eyes of compassion
hands of patience, gentleness, awareness
the pieces
forever
soft, sharp, breaking, falling, living pieces

Response Poetry

2008-02-09T23:23:00.000-08:00

CALLING all
lovers of life
lemme tell you

RAW COLD STRIFE
so aching, stretching, seething
despondently looking for hope in LIFE

clinging to candle flame flirty security
grain, rice, mother's sound advice
sweet, sound sleep, safe

oh- lovers of life
do you know STRIFE

bending, pretending, unENDING

begging,

starving hope

staggering abused fools no where to go but a closet, long tshirts, hiding, crying, wilting

WAILING
silently RAILING against this pain,

painful SILENCE splits hearts, belief-- pushing hope further and an ending rope closer

ohhhhh
chants, cheers
don't even mask fears
or dry corner sobbed tears
forming oceans - salty, stormy
all these yawning, yearning, helling-silent yelling years

swaying seasons, swaying tides
rocking like the baby in
the cradle
crying to sleep
again another fight in the night
blood bruises, bruises blood
and hope drowns in the flood

oh no, oh no, oh no

close the window, pull the sheet
over me, first get out of this stronghold
here, there,
yes, there you go
breathe in

struggles surface and swallowing is so hard
and audible

here, looking into these eyes, cry, feel (safe), feel anything but pain, feel

feel my
puh-pulse
yes-- lend your ear
to
my chest
breathing
still

calling

still

you, yes, YOU, hold
still

open your fragile hand
holding
SO intensely to breath, beauty

in this moment we envision a clenched hand holding power, holding what we know to be oppression, pain, wrongful harm

holding-clenching power
and ..... ! watch out!
pow! pow!
pop rocks and
fire work shocks
exploding power
blood showers
like rain on london monday noondays
equator jungle tuesdays

oh soaking my soul
watering parched for hope soil
unslaked, unsatiated believing, beautiful souls

rains and tears and oceans and floods
covering sand formed from the excellent explosion of power
scattered and splattered by blood showers and seaweed flowers

oh ocean, i see candles floating
bobbing with hope -- in this new tide, new moment
trees, women, breathing
relief-- ah, REVOLUTION
for power has
pow! pow! explosioned
out of the hurtful hand of the holder

and

ah!

into glimmering, bloody, hard, beautiful, creative, smiling, beating pieces
now which sit, shake, settle into the

husssshhhddd voice
black, blue, yellow, red squinting bruises
shaky voices, minds
veil
ordained women
used, abused, misconstrued, confused, refused

and NOW.

SHE STANDS. SHE FEELS. SHE SEES. SHE SPEAKS. SHE SCREAMS. SHE OPENS THE DOOR. SHE UNLOCKS HER WORLD, HER CAPACITY.

TO COME ALIVE. TO BE.

woman STRONG
woman TRUE
woman BEAUTIFUL

leader, teacher, lover, mother, any, all, more, fine and fire
courage cultivator
loving lover, sister, friend

SHE is.... Mother Eart
feminina
more
life giver
able
dreaming and living these dreams
Wangari in Kenya
Ebadi in Iran
Riverbend in Iraq, Jordan
Addams in Chicago
Chan Khong in Vietnam
Wells in Memphis

YOU

overcoming, challenging, changing, STANDing, BEING energy

buzzing justice, peace and liberation, this moment and EVERY moment
because WOMEN

know
feel
taste
hear
swallow
injustice, hate, oppression, violence, abuse, inequality
now.
broken, bruised, splintered
fragile, faking, fighting, fearing

WE SAY -- NO MORE NO MAS NO MORE
bruises
betrayal
breaking-beating-belitting
brokenness
WE SAY --

justice. love. care. respect. health. safety. security. pride. liberty. peace.
NOW.

hold it, feel it, know it, taste it, hear it, swallow it.

ALL.
hold on to your heart beat
the way a wick holds onto a flame
the way a lover holds a lover
the way a blue sky holds a sun

inhaling, (ah)..... exhaling (ah)

coming ALIVE, rising to LIFE
awaken the deep spirit
oh sweet, bitter soul
from the dust of shame
the dark corner of seclusion

RISE! RISE! RISE!
with the sun
meet the road for peace, turning at the bend of justice, walking under the sky of equality-- taking nothing less than

LOVE, RESPECT, REVERENCE, DIGNITY, INTEGRITY

holding onto that heart beat
the candle flame, blue sun sky, lovers embrace,
again-- the heart beat

no longer starving belief
for after the explosion, after the ocean
after the feeling, hiding, feeling, rising, walking .....

Lovers of Life
United Around Strife
beating drums
chanting cheers
tasting tears
reversing fate of the years

to come
let us all learn from

bloody wretched raw
ravagings
rebellions
revolutions, salty oceans
sparkling in our eyes

yes! we shall organize and defy

until peace until justice until liberty until love

endures, enables, empowers, exists

and explodes power out of clenched fists
[and (embraces the fading folded, limp hand) still]
and from the clenched fist, explodes Gygees greed and every gold steed
forsaking putrid power ... giving the REST
what they demand and NEED

UNTIL
this's fulfill'd

i SHALL CALL
you sweet, sorrowful, strong

lovers of life
to tell the tale of

painful
crying, SCREAMING

silenced

strife.

Meditations/1

2008-02-03T10:34:00.000-08:00

Reflecting, introspecting, connecting, being.

"smiling is very important"

"present moment wonderful moment"

"we are more than our sorrow"

“Breath is the bridge which connects life to consciousness, which unites your body to your thoughts"

"Because of your smile, you make life more beautiful"

"The most precious gift we can offer others is our presence. When mindfulness embraces those we love, they will bloom like flowers"

"It is with our capacity of smiling, breathing and being peace that we can make peace."

all quotes by Thich Nhat Hanh

Stream of Conscious/1

2008-01-29T19:14:00.000-08:00

A rant? not exactly.
Obligatory space filling (it's been...)? nah.
Impulse? yeah

This is within. Suffering and joy. Cold wind rain and sweet warm sunshine. Do you feel them both in your life? Transitions, highs-lows work into my life like the punches while kneading bread dough. Working through life. Clearing throat, rubbing eyes, shaking head, swallowing audibly, pulling up sleeves, inhaling intently, smiling, waking up, getting up from a nap I can't take hold of.

It's cold and dreary-ish. Excitment over new classes zings and darts into a pocket with the lint ... once the work load starts, so begins the tumbling in the drier- shrinking back to reality. Or ... (ex)static-ly energizing, that's an option. Maybe I feel like this, maybe I feel anticiaption for projects, ideas to get off the ground. Maybe I'd like this blog to not be so middle school diary and emotion- but right now, I am feeling the distance of certain very good friends. Love for you. A smile for you.

I used a play a game with this one friend- a word game. He would say a word and I'd immediately say what came to mind. I'd say a word and he'd say what was right on his mind. I thought about this game about 10 minutes ago. Alot of words, ideas, emotions flow through me like water in creaks, streams, that connects to sisters and brothers of other waters--

What do you think after each of these words?
rape-- God-- Iraq-- education-- English-- race--- ethnicity-- photography-- kiss--
poetry-- affair-- food-- inclusion-- exclusion-- lesbian-- suffering-- park-- childhood---
injustice-- zoo-- distance-- apathy-- depression-- hunger-- relationships--

The significance of bringing the word game into this?: the thoughts, darting, flowing, connecting one to the other- the way cold wind rain and sweet warm sunshine, though different, are connected. Being aware of suffering and joy, continuing to rise up, listen and walk, connect to other people, introspect, grow.

Like the streams, creaks- bubbling, freezing, making their way- know that my love, peace and smile makes their way to you. You in Haiti, St. Louis, Cincinnati, Coahoma, Tijuana, Ontario, Johns Island, San Diego, Columbus, Dayton, Florida, El Salvador, Jonestown, China, France, Brussels, Spain, Spokane, Charlottesville... on and on. Places, words, names, connected. Love like water, water, water, flowing, moving, reaching, connecting, falling (like rain before the sunshine).

Poetry/2

2008-01-18T12:07:00.000-08:00

Writing to me

To write is to respire, when
I'm on fire
(and/or)
STUCK in the mire

Give me pen, paper or
give me
death
writing, to inhale, exhale breath

adored, ignored
pick me up
get me out
let me be
write- if youre free

(perhaps) privilage
livin in the writing village
hot cold, fed
in safety
a bed
well or unwell read
you can write if you gotta head

a head, a mind
might could be mean and kind
and-- also to get ahead
Red Queen no slugabed
stay put she'd, we'd be dead
dead and quiet
no use to fight it
jus gotta write it

Recomend/2

2008-01-09T21:39:00.000-08:00

Cringing while binging
on CNNs news happenings today.

I thought the world was going to end today while walking on a treadmill in the Rec center. Ridiculous reports, incredulous incidents, marvelous madness.

Finished reading Hesse's Siddartha today- reminded me of Coehlo's The Alchemist. Still mulling over what (to take) from the novel. How to make good on what I read, something like that.

Next book: Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver. Wonderful, true, jovial account of her family's switch to eating (only) organic, local grown and consumed food. Learning and relearning much info on genetic diversity, plants, American farmers, petroleum and fossil fuel consumption. Did you know that each item on your meal plate has travelled on average 1,500 miles? This makes me want to be almost Freegan (those "who employ alternative strategies for living based on limited participation in the conventional economy and minimal consumption of resources") aka not buying much, but raising-making everything that is ingested, worn, used etc. (http://www.freegan.info/).

Reciting gathas, breathing, listening to city sounds (searing sirens, chirping crosswalks, conversing car horns, water rushing through pipes in the apartment above, blasting rock music from the apartment next door, a sneeze, a yawn, a woman on a cell phone). Yes, St Louis, I hear you, I am growing into awareness in this Arched Midwestern milieu.

peace, shalom, salaam, shanti, paz, he ping, dohiyi, pace, hasiti, pax. tangible, real- you know?

New Friends

2007-12-24T19:19:00.000-08:00

today remains a memorable day

today, December 24, 2007. today i went to the mall. (those who know me know a mall is the last place to find me). today i went to the mall to spend time by myself. family coming out my ears, eyes, nostrils- family still there after i blink, after i wake up, after i eat, after-between-before-around- just everywhere! and i went to the mall without wallet and any id, i went with notebook and pen. to be me- to write. (my cousin needed more presents so i shared a ride with her and told her i'd meet up with her when she was through)

wandering through this mall in Binghamton, NY- observing folks and looking for a place to sit and write. with no money i felt guilty going into a coffee shop knowing i wouldn't be able to buy a seat and time to sit, to write. i found a bench, crossed my legs and began to write. fine. observing couples, families, factions, fashions... fine. (thinking, too- i can't believe i'm at a mall!!!!)

i wrote this "big shoes steppin, punks and goths. more lip gloss colors than there are shades of people. perfume so sweet- our bodies make our own, sweat, smell- not good enough i suppose. bottled water, colored and flavored-- still the world is thirsty. breads, chocolates, coffees-- still the world is hungry. stores, bags, bows and toys- still the world is lonely. cars, planes, cell phones-- still the world is distant." the next word i wrote was "strangers"

then i looked up, two people had just sat down on the bench where i sat. isn't this america? where every man is for himself and this bench is meant for one even though it holds three-four? i smiled, so glad these two young people had sat down. we smiled. a young couple from Jordan.
talking about life, college, English, Farsi, media, war, friends and traditions. our conversation- beautiful, memorable. my appreciation for them, their smile, these moments together forever in my heart. i will share their answer to my question about refugees in Jordan. YES. from Iraq, Iran and Palestine- they know the millions of refugees who have come to Jordan.

you might have sung Silent Night tonight. i'll never forget a few years ago when that song made me piping mad. no way could i sing "all is calm all is bright" with a conscience. blood and body parts, ravaging, retreating refugees into somewhere far from hate, bombs, fear. my new friends, this young couple from Jordan is in America. together listening and sharing- in America where hate in silence or in words become other bombs. in this conversation understanding and smiling prevailed. the three of us were safe. if we were together now i would feel okay singing, "here is calm, here is bright"

thank you friends for these moments. for reading. please remember people around the world this holiday (season), this new year, this-the rest of your life.

I'm currently reading The Miracle of Mindfulness. (Hanh). mindful of breath. but here, I mean mindful of hate, terror, war- suffering currently happening. unwrap mindfulness this year and find joy, peace, awareness and life.

peace love joy and smiles

Life Writings/4 (ctrl-v'd)

2007-12-20T15:37:00.000-08:00

Growing. and growing up means moving from where you stand, accepting new faces concurrently with saying farewell to familiar smiles. perhaps growing up resembles the feeling of buying a new pair of shoes-- first find a suitable pair, try them on in the store, walk around enough without suspicion, tilt your head right and left weighing the possibility, look at them, examine closer as you pull your leg and shoe closer to eager eyes suveying how good the grips on the bottom really are. okay, you decide, lets try it. here we go, through the check out line, shoes on feet. barcode on box scanned. old shoes nestled with silica gel packet and white tissue paper. you smell like new. on the way, life is the sliding glass door in front of you--- open. new shoes on for new adventures, perhaps uncertain how and when feet, life, will adjust as well as the old shoes did in the box now sitting on the passenger seat. well, hello life, here i am!

life is a blank canvas, propped on the easal of life so far. and growing up. from waiting for the school bus as a bright, beaming, little kidnergardner to now.life now is packing duffels, planning lunch dates, hugging longer, holding sweeter to commonality, community even. rolling mattresses, folding clothes and pressing them into zippered, enclosed, traversable mediums so, like you, it is free and ready to go. shoes laced, mental or actual check list run through, stuffed in a coat or pants pocket. camera packed. leisure crossword, journal or book- your vade macum. tissues portable in plastic, memories potable. imbibe them as long or little for they become latent acumen for future days. frills and frissons of future -- sigh, the plane finds the air to be friendly so it stays over an ocean, several land masses until its tired and ready for land again.

adjust your sweater, zip up yoru jacket, stretch up your arms and breathe out! breathe in... hmm. are you feeling zen? leaving is slow, difficult, exciting, uncertain, strange yet happening none the less. does leaving mean arriving? (pause). peace love smiles. bon voyage. hasta luego. arrivederci. ten cuidado. ve gates (misspelled GER). bon swa zanmis. you are beautiful, ebullient, exuberant and the people to whom you are present with feel your light of love, your light for life. your smile, too. perseverance for peace, justice, the good, the worthy. remember the energy and the interconnectedness of life. (the loom of life!) a smile and laughter should always be shared- shoul dthey not? and tears, too. yes?

here's to open hearts, open minds, open hands. here's to life, love, growth, change, memories, beauty, truth, purpose, experience, goofiness, incipience, evolving, culture shock, new cuisine, discovering... here is to YOU!

peace and loveBG

Poetry/1: unnamed

2007-12-12T20:07:00.000-08:00

Baby baby cry hot tears
remember, abandon hard long nights
chasing love, pain and ghoulish fears
cool dawn dew on green grass blades
giggle running - squishy brown mud
cool cool soft splatters
on light-hearted legs prancing dancing
to sweet canorous coodle doodles of life
death and dying, bills and adult frills
sail like ships far away to even farther away lands
and hands, young hands
young bright eyes-- eyes wide blinking
thinking, noticing boys- dejecting dolls, toys
grow up like sunflowers- leaves, trees
yellow can you see yellow
seeds can you taste salty seeds
sunflower power, smiling sun earth girl
grows, earth child alongside her Mother Earth
choking, resolving, adjusting, deciding
pathways and park days over highways and parkways
simple sustenance, reds, oranges, yellows, greens
vibrancy, she rises, colorful, courageous
ebullient, exuberant
searching life for extant energy
energy that summons the tide forth
energy that stares the tide away
inviting a dry day sandy shore
desert sand, jungle land, arctic ice, southern spice
take a turn through time
searching for the hiccup in time when dignity dropped
common humanity hit the fan
shredding into a million pieces, streaming ribbons
propelled by inside, suffocating, suppressing, oppressing air
suddenly I see the ships of death and dying
of fear, war and lying
reaming, ramming towards yellow seed sunflowers
Mother Earths baby trees trampled by mustached masked men
with greed and vain-glory gobbling about
green grass turns burnt brown and squishy mud
dries, cracks like hearts frozen and broken
melting maybe, sometimes--de vez en cuando mamasita, querida
baby baby go on and cry
for the world wreckage and hateful patronage
perhaps pushing people apart so--
hope, like dawn, renewing, re-uniting soul and self
hope so sweet, daring hope in healing tears
over parched, cracked ground-- softening soil
roots, it's okay, you can take hold here
ships still sail
all those tears transform fresh water
to salty waters-- un-imbibe-able
salty seas for solidarity ships
welcoming winds of change, peace, cool
steering and leading rudders to lands
of yellow seed sunflowers, soft soil
Mother Earth and Grandmother Moon
Sister Love and Brother Peace
life, imperfect yet exuberant
one step in the mud- splatters, still
voice speak, tear feel, life live
verbs action, be become come into being
evolve, respire, inspire, desire and fire
fire of life, love, loss, ships and sails
tears and trails, trials and tears
go on baby cry, cry the long nights
hot tears, of fears, illuminating lyres
coodle clear chorus cheers
dab dismal doodle dears
all--- all of those years.

Life Writing/3

2007-12-10T16:00:00.000-08:00

Be Alive
Respect Life
Share
Breathe deeply
Love
Walk peace
Develop community
Observe
Seek to understand
Appreciate
Listen well
Introspect
Inspire creation
Discover meaning
Practice mindfulness
Smile

Life Writing/2

2007-12-06T19:42:00.000-08:00

We say hello too fast and goodbye too soon. Before you know it, another headline scrolls across CNN ... but there is no time to read more than the few words that say, "Iran to Bomb Israel if Attacked." And then, I think-- expletives and angry faces, wrenched hearts and clenched fists only makes swallowing harder.
If life were a tree, I would see it dying before me. Hit by a lightning bolt of hate ... a mysterious force that entered the world, but how? and why, oh God? the world is on its knees praying for the roots of this tree to grow back again. But it has not rained in months, in years-- the land is parched for love, peace, dignity, respect and liberation. Trees like these cannot grow cannot expound goodness and life under such conditions.
Where are the peacemakers? the organizers? where is the love, the smile, the pause to listen to a friend, the care to ask a janitor how his day is going, to read the article "Iran to Bomb Israel if Attacked"...
Where am I ... lost in a turbulent sea of global turmoil. Trying to stay afloat, not get swept over by the tidal wave of reading assigned work, or by insecurities, ignorance, and an overwhelming feeling that I do not know enough, or that I forget what I have learned.
Iran, the question ... Iran. my answer is, I don't know. I hope to God that politics and economics would stop annihilating the world and the precious people who, so helplessly (I think and feel) fall under and into the wrath of such fierce forces. I hope to God that peace would become more than an ideal and that the question of entering Iran would never even exist to be a logical thought or present day reality.

Recommend/1

2007-12-02T12:31:00.000-08:00

Recommending:

Iran Awakening- Shirin Ebadi
Ebadi is an Iranian woman, a human rights advocate-- living for justice and peace, working for change. Her memoir dispels any complacent, apathetic desires-- read this and learn how one person's passion and perseverance brings necessary change. Read this and learn about a country the U.S. is frighteningly flirting with.

Baghdad Burning- Riverbend
Riverbend, a young Iraqi woman blogs life as she knows it to be in Iraq. Painting a painful, beautiful, heart-mind provoking picture of harrowing reality of what war in Iraq means. Please read this book and open yourself to awareness of this reality, this perspective.

The White Man's Burden- William Easterly
Easterly, an economist and professor at NYU discusses the difference between Planners and Searchers and the malignant effects of foreign aid, loans, bureaucracies on impoverished countries. He writes how the West's efforts to improve hunger, poverty, death and devastation have exacerbated countries-- especially how America's involvement with and in countries has in fact dismantled well being and homeostasis and shaken social, political and economic life for the worse. Read this book and learn the ineffectiveness of top down planners and recklessness of corruption. Be a bottom up searcher-- experience injustice, talk to people, learn what needs to be changed and together, organize and work for justice and stability.

George Orwell's Politics of the English Language

In our time, political speech and writing are largely the defense of the indefensible. Things like the continuance of British rule in India, the Russian purges and deportations, the dropping of the atom bombs on Japan, can indeed be defended, but only by arguments which are too brutal for most people to face, and which do not square with the professed aims of the political parties. Thus political language has to consist largely of euphemism., question-begging and sheer cloudy vagueness. Defenseless villages are bombarded from the air, the inhabitants driven out into the countryside, the cattle machine-gunned, the huts set on fire with incendiary bullets: this is called pacification. Millions of peasants are robbed of their farms and sent trudging along the roads with no more than they can carry: this is called transfer of population or rectification of frontiers. People are imprisoned for years without trial, or shot in the back of the neck or sent to die of scurvy in Arctic lumber camps: this is called elimination of unreliable elements. Such phraseology is needed if one wants to name things without calling up mental pictures of them. Consider for instance some comfortable English professor defending Russian totalitarianism. He cannot say outright, "I believe in killing off your opponents when you can get good results by doing so." Probably, therefore, he will say something like this:

"While freely conceding that the Soviet regime exhibits certain features which the humanitarian may be inclined to deplore, we must, I think, agree that a certain curtailment of the right to political opposition is an unavoidable concomitant of transitional periods, and that the rigors which the Russian people have been called upon to undergo have been amply justified in the sphere of concrete achievement."

The inflated style itself is a kind of euphemism. A mass of Latin words falls upon the facts like soft snow, blurring the outline and covering up all the details. The great enemy of clear language is insincerity. When there is a gap between one's real and one's declared aims, one turns as it were instinctively to long words and exhausted idioms, like a cuttlefish spurting out ink. In our age there is no such thing as "keeping out of politics." All issues are political issues, and politics itself is a mass of lies, evasions, folly, hatred, and schizophrenia. When the general atmosphere is bad, language must suffer. I should expect to find -- this is a guess which I have not sufficient knowledge to verify -- that the German, Russian and Italian languages have all deteriorated in the last ten or fifteen years, as a result of dictatorship.

-- what do you think of this essay? I find it poignant today-- consider media's influence on thought, sway, popularity of wars, people. What gets broadcasted and why? We need to start asking questions and searching for truth of meaning. We need to be honest and detailed, intentional and committed to that which makes us come alive. Live with compassion, humility and conviction that many policies, governments, structures and systems are not just, peaceful, empowering, or good in this world. When living this way consuming (clothes to caffeine) becomes a different experience because you are aware of how your actions are part of a larger picture.

Recommend: Music--

John Barry, Out of Africa soundtrack
Bob Marley and the Wailers, Gold Discs
Miles Davis
Gustavo Santaolla

peace and love

Injustice Anywhere

2007-11-20T16:49:00.000-08:00

injustice anywhere
injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere--thank you dr. Martin King. in the distance i hear the metro reeling by, only briefly, just enough to hear its apparition like whistling whisper.

i wonder about injustice. i believe injustice affects us in the way that people suffer from and as a result of injustice. i wonder... how long does injustice remain on our minds? how long goes it stay?is it a visitor who knocks at our door, enters our home and stays longer than we desire? if so, then we are bothered, we are inconvenienced. yes, oh injustice you have overstayed your welcome-- you have disturbed tranquility and wrecked my pristine picture of life.injustice not only overstays its welcome, enough to make me on edge and uncomfortable and mindful of so much in life-- injustice walks deeper into my life, penetrating the flesh, to the marrow of my existence. once its settled in amongst the calcium fortified skeleton, it travels with great speed to the most vital organ, the heart. with large, gripping hands it stretches and pulls my heart in every imaginable direction... contorting its natural beating state until blood of passion, anger, desire and conviction oozes out.blood stains me.

i am left with a remarkable red reminder of how injustice causes vicious, violent, vexing suffering on life. on Enis, Marthe, Lavorn... and on inumberably others.from sweatshop slavery in Honduras to restavec slavery in Haiti.i believe once an individual has heard or seen injustice, no matter if the extent lasted as long as the whispering whistle of the metro ... a person is never the same

Human Experience--Experiencing Humanity

2007-11-20T16:47:00.000-08:00

Human experience must include experiencing humanity. On the interpersonal level: being aware, acknowledge, accepting, appreciating. Action verbs—it is in the being, the learning, creating, surviving, sharing, experiencing. Dignity. Respect. Love. Peace. Joy. Meaning. Mindfulness. Satiation. Security.Community.Eyes blinking. Mind reeling. Two actions adding to form the equation state of blank staring—head slightly tilted to the right, most definitely. Silent. Attentive to an unmistakable heart flutter. My mind like an old projector flashes images of memories that render a distinct, surface malaise and melancholy meditation. Pondering. The human experience. I conclude: the human experience to be complete means experiencing humanity. Basic needs met, achieving security: financial, physical, emotional. Living with prupose. . quite similar to Maslow's view. Non-attachment as a way of life. Meditation. Gratitude. Stepping into freedom. Those who are bound by the chains of material possessions—free from consumerism, need of acquiring. Being peace. Walking peace. Speaking peace. boddichitta— being loving kindness

Life Writing/1

2007-11-14T22:59:00.000-08:00

This is a writing slam.
This is beginning.
Creation
Brown earth, rich cool soil—worms wiggling their way to the open air.

I cannot help but breathe cool fall, St. Louis city air and draw life from it. Let it fill my lungs, release the stress and weight of college academic rigor. Let cool air whisper peace into my soul as I look onto life smiling.

So aware and increasingly mindful of this warm apartment and sturdy wooden desk, this machine that allows me to stand in the land of technology. Channeling energy and resouces, brain thoughts and convictions, book knowledge, conversations and life experiences—let it all soak up and ferment and sink into the marrow. Looking at the clothes in my closet—thinking of where they came from, the hands, the hours, machines, the globalization that creeps into every minute, hour of my daily existence as a waking, living, breathing, eating, drinking, consuming human being.

Gratitude. Integral. Awareness, appreciation, acceptance of life, love, suffering, joy, peace, war… being able to sort out fact from fiction and include both friend and (worldly) foe.

Is this revolutionary thinking? Is it backwards. From my studies of Jesus and my beginning knowledge of Buddhism one clear revelation occurs

The energy of human life cannot be destroyed or blocked, it is transferred—how human beings transfer the energy (of their joy, suffering, neglect, abuse, success, purpose-fulfillment) and where and to whom humans transfer that energy to is crucial in understanding the human experience. And in turn, how a human being, how the human individual person experiences humanity. Energy.

We are creation. Multifarious yet similar creation stories, passed by written and spoken word paint an interesting picture for the present day faith seeker. In this present moment… how does the individual perceive life? Through a hungry stomach, through a book knowledge crammed cranium, through eyes of a peace revolutionary, through the hands of people holding power, through the laborer’s wrenching back, through the silent wife and mothers veil, through the blues music of guitar, through the lens of faith, through a certain climate and environment…
The human experience is unique for even twin sisters—two people with the same dna. Their experience is unique in the way that each experiences humanity. Humanity—the dignity that comes along with life. If dignity, love, peace, joy (through purpose-fulfillment and relationships) is not experienced than how valuable is the human experience? Worlds apart—suffering. Worlds apart—technology. Worlds crashing, colliding, worlds stealing, worlds giving (charity to guns). Trading, tricking, turning sides, turning out mandates and import tariffs.

The cycle of power is hard to break. How does such a cycle – a vicious cycle that strengthens with each new rotation, new time around (again)… how does that circle, chain of metal and steel (it seems) become unbroken. How does on break or defeat those cold chains or greed, power, self-achievement and elevation, of status, symbols, titles, oppression, narrow-mindedness?

Non-attachment. The value of non-attachment. Back to first mention of Christ and the figures in Buddhism… neither Christ nor the most beautiful Buddhist monks were attached to people or things. Christ spoke words “the son of man has no where to lay his head— foxes have holes and the birds have nests” but Christ’s home was everywhere he went. The community he fostered, furthered, encouraged, created, inspired. And riches he had not. He was poor. The new testament describes and directly states Christ as a poor man. Sandals and leather hard feet. Maybe a traveling sack but ultimately—his needs were intangible and so backwards to the world’s. but so integral to the worlds real needs—of people respecting, loving, creating, sharing, growing, learning, being, with one another.

Awareness Path

2007-11-14T10:48:00.000-08:00

Tick tock goes the clock and the time is up. Rinnggg. Do not reach out your arm to turn of the sounding alarm. Time is now. Time to feel. Time to stand. Time to connect. Open the lids of your eyes, open the lid of your mind and visualize the path of awareness. See yourself stepping onto this path. Aware. Looking from right to left. Begin by breathing deeply. Breathe in this present moment and step, step, one foot in front of the other, each step with mindfulness, each step with awareness--- mindful of suffering and crying and aware of joy and smiling.

The path of awarness is on a diverged path… a path that requires the speed of traversing to be slowed down. On this path, on this journey, together, with love for diversity, respect and acknowledge of human dignity, with compassion inspired action and heart beating, you will be overwhelmed with the sensation of reverberating loving kindness.

Now—it is the season fall, leaves of love linger on the path. Yellow blends to red and the path bends. I continue to walk in awareness of the way sunlight shines through bare branches.

Why does walking in awareness, intentional and appreciative on this path come feel bizarre, backwards? Why be aware? Why live in the present moment? Why breath deeply—eyes open, heart beating, hands reached out? Why? Because we would connect with who we are in the most profound way… we would achieve a human experience by allowing ourselves to experience humanity. Imagine humanity for a moment: blue sky basking birds to burgundy blood red wounds, and this sunlight speckled path and sweaty sunburned soldiers brow. Flying birds. Marching soldiers.

Aware of our breath, our space. Step onto this path of awarness, and consider humanity. Common humanity (our one human being family—rich in depth and diversity). Dalton’s words echo and I smile at his words that consider common humanity. “poetry like bread is for everyone” and yes. Our eyes have known laughter and the buds of tears— tears of joy and smiling and tears of suffering and crying.

May we live simply so that others might simply live. May we live deeply in this present moment, aware and calm—yet, stirred by compassion into action, creating, connecting, growing, sharing— breathing, stepping peace.

May we absorb it the way the path absorbs the sun. may it fall into us like fallen leaves of yellow and red adding vibrancy and diversity into our lives.

May inner pace and love allow us to walk on the path of awareness. And when we walk… may the people we pass and those who pass us notice an inner emanating light. May reverberations of peace and love send energy to others and draw more on to this path, together, the greatest journey… remembering human dignity, celebrating and lifting one another up, listening, growing, sharing, understanding, breathing and being… present.

Appreciation Salutation

2007-11-14T10:38:00.000-08:00

Namaste
(the light in me honors the light in you)

Thank you
Thank you for being you

Inspiring, incandescent, incredible

I appreciate all of who you are

Encouraging, loving, smiling

(today) may love, peace, hope and joy
Enter and fill your entire being
Mind body soul

May love abound from your heart
May peace center your day
May hope guide your thoughts
May joy shine through your smile

With both hands, hold this moment
Breathe deeply and be present in this moment