is simple because you only have to memorize one line,
one word, really,
yes
and repeat it often.
bone soup
15 Aprmaking a bone broth of me
cooking tendons of need
clear down
delicious fat and richness
from my full bodiment
boiled down
caramelized shame
fire roasted shame
fig leaf soaked shame
layers
of collective legs
there, tasted in the slurp
hot from a dipping spoon
you are here
not in the soup line
but in the building nonetheless
familiar with the recipe
available for consultation
with the apprentice
master
all in one
thank you pot
and water
and flame
and thank you space
and atmosphere
in which it all can happen
and in which we all
can hear the dinner bell
now with liquid ears of
life.
we haven’t reached the end of words, yet
17 MarThe passage ending in a lowering ceiling closing in,
my view of dim, withering, repeating of days,
somehow was only respite
much needed in the overwhelm of noise,
in hindsight
tasty silence,
when surprise!
came new words
or words strung together in different ways
than seems possible
a sky
with the power to melt rock
–
which I can not replicate here in my simple ways
–
but the words of others who found me
took on the form of keys to a door
of not-alone-in-this
Here it is, the power-
the words for
what is felt yet unnamed
which can create
connecting streams
that until now, for me, a single, confused droplet,
to the ocean unseen.
Thank you poets
but also too painters, body dancers, cooks (in your own form of words)
who jumped into my sternum tightness, my adam’s apple blockage,
my longing stuck,
and released me
and started blood to flow again.
I’ve curled up here,
allowing a wordless doom
to creep too close,
but birth it comes again, a gift.
Here I am, alone/backed by an army
of deep breathers
with courage to call out truth-
is ugly in its composting phases-
unashamed for my muddy footprints
for carcasses left
in the wake of this empty
fragrance
with my name
moving
on
4 easy ways to solve all your problems NOW
10 FebTake any one truth and
follow it completely
to the bittersweet end
instead of the hithering and thithering
of our now.
For example,
“go with the flow”
or “there is no problem”
or “be here now”
or “whatever is is”.
I made that last one up, maybe,
but who cares?
Take one idea to the extreme of understanding
in every moment of what time you have left.
That’s it.
I lied to you;
it is not 4 steps, but 1 long step from now
to the end.
We have been living like grease slicks on shallow puddles
in pot holes in grocery store parking lots
up to now…maybe all times are this way:
shiny
polluted
temporary
mesmerizing.
Clicking to the next channel
with ease, once remotes became a thing,
led to cable tv
which led to computers
which led to tabs open for days
enticing but never understood,
videos never watched–
4 easy ways to solve all your problems NOW
with our 7 second attention spans.
How about diving into that greasy puddle,
through the asphalt,
to the layers of dirt and moles and worms
to the water table and rock beds.
keeping on going, in the one spot,
straight down, to the mantle,
to the core, perhaps-
who knows what is there?
Is there a turning center nugget of gold or a turtle or a mantis or a laughing god on a pogo stick?
We don’t know.
There are emphatic measurers who provide diagrams of what lies beneath,
but phooey, we are infants, larva, asserting theories about our blind spots…
we’ve been shooting up holes on the filmy top layer
of a hard boiled egg long enough.
The advice today is
follow one single concept as far as it can go,
until you are the world renowned expert on this one singular drilling down
but by then you will have long disappeared
into molten goo
going with the flow,
in the arteries of truth
beneath the crust of known.
You with the singular focus
of a paralyzed and unaccommodated,
forever open eye ball.
fundamental rage
27 Janthe rage is true and justifiable
(felt at our core like Neo,
perhaps since birth).
though skillfully polarized
and misdirected,
scream and fling into the wind
and waterfalls
and then
get back to dancing.
Plug in
26 JanThere are limitless ways,
thank god,
to choose.
We took on the options
(all of them)
when we agreed to breathe.
What if we are not alone in this endeavor,
or powerless at all, but
able to access unlimited power
in our earthly play?
Wall sockets seem the closest humans can
mimic, right now, of power in the material,
yet unseen through ball and socket eyes
could be a source available in the space
which includes us,
which enlivens us,
(high or low or a million ways of in between),
only ever limited within our single units,
when we forget what’s here,
not outside of us.
How else could we be here,
put together with a trillion
systems coordinated beyond our control,
our brains and fingernails composed of quarks,
or some quivering basis for matter,
chemistry, physics, and biology, and more
and much much more,
cocktailed into us, mysterious us?
Do we have any choice even if
our very being is beyond our understanding?
Today, I say, breathe deep into possible power
because why not?
This morning, it seems, the choice:
to plug in or not.
What if we distract ourselves not
with the power blackouts
of shallow living?
Every choice, in every moment,
powering us up or draining us down, then perhaps–
We can experiment with
the toggle nature of this freedom–
and find that
this equation is true:
∞ x ∞
If I can plug into
that which powers all
by my simplest of choices
in each moment,
well, then,
choiceless choosing has
pronging me
plugging in to wallless outlets,
finding that we are the ones
letting there be light
down here.
holy
23 JanThere is nothing but
holy.
I wore it today as a mantra
in traffic jams
and temperature swings
and in the checkout line
where I was handy
and open
next to magazine and candy gossip.
Enough flowed through
to bless the swollen wrist
of the Target cashier
from RA she says and sighs,
so painful,
sweet one, yes.
When we are there with her,
our mind’s hand covers her pain
with tactile love
while we drop to the spot
left and right lungs
touch the fire pit of our
singular abyss.
Holy rains on
holy messes
and blesses us all,
despite.
