May Be Metaphorical

Across the Street at Tel Aviv

“Attah Yafa.”
That’s what I wanted to say to you, to tell you
you are beautiful,
your body sculpted perfectly by God;
your hair – the rays escaping from the sun;
your face holds a story of love lost and gained,
balanced so evenly you
cry every night.

In this great tragedy of time,
I want you to know you
stop the sand.
You resonate peace from across the street,
standing, waiting, for some one somewhere to
take you away.

Then I turned my head for a second too long,
and when I looked back,
you were gone.
Vanished forever from my world, and
I’ll never know if you’ll ever know
what I can now only say on paper.

I hope she is still okay,
if but just for one more day,
to know the world was meant to
be this way.

April 13, 1933, 1:42 on a Sunny Afternoon in Central Park, New York City

how random.


A Confrontation

Purple
Surf

CrashinG

on

Red
Mountain.

Inside the Cave, so quiet.
Inside the Wave, so gentle.

 

 

 


An Advertisement for a Politician on the Election Campaign

Goshy roshy!
Howely jabrroli!
Kigga kaggagrigalgragle,
Sispana sispena passa hama mama wama…

Bawak Obama.

 

 


America, version 2.010

The country’s plugged in.

Wire snake coils slithering from Zeus’ lightning bolts,
Hiding close to the walls—
Empty skeletal eye sockets—
Slithering forth from empty electrical wall sockets,
powering boxes that have replaced our friends.

 

 


Ode to the Government

There are dreams in my melancholy sleep,
silent screams of the everpresent sheep,
s   u   c   h               a                   l   o   n   g                   s   i   m   p   l   e              l   i   n   e

they’re absurdly confined
yet do nothing of dust in their street.

The visions are images of a

K      Y       M       E       R      A

not real, not quite fake
not yet sleep, not awake

and if they are truths that bemuse the
anxious children
then we are the fooled who don’t recognize
illusion

for we acceptingly follow

today

then

tomorrow

the next one in line

creep      by      creep


Every Army Needs A Flag

Who needs an army?
WE need an army!
I’ll be an army!
Let’s go to war!

What is war for?
For fighting, of course!
Who’s course?
War’s course!
(your throat’s hoarse)
Get on your horse and FIGHT, of course!

You’re not the boss of me!
I’ll kill your family.
You can be the boss of me.
How worthy the kin,
how worthless the way you are living.

Your judgments don’t make my decisions for me!

I want to conquer!
I want to rule!
I want to own all the land and the fools!
I’ll put them away in a small little shelf and say they belong to me and myself so that
i will be left as the winner of all and the game that i made up, i’ll have won, so ha ha.

WE ARE WAR!
WE WANT MORE!
WE ARE WAR!
WE WANT MORE!

have you seen the score?

KILL SOME MORE!

i want my words to mean something.
you want my meaning to kill something.
a pawn in the game?
a lawn for us to lay?
a map, a blueprint, ted nugent, no more war.

Try It, See What Happens:

Surrender

Lose the war
Give up the fighting
Take the loss
child


Sheeple

Oh humdrum humanity!
Commonplace characters with
dull dispositions,

“What’s Popular?
New?
What does everyone else choose?
Okay, that sounds good, I think
I’ll choose that
too.”

Remember BEING a child?

personable
uniqueness;

undeniable
interests;

passionate
desire
to
exist;

and

reckless
awareness
of life

we now
miss.


Transforming (Fear) into Love

Forgive our family;
forget our “sin”;

we share the
Peace of Love
therein.


Consumer Resignation

The culture I have been raised in, that of consumerism, is an unbalanced mode of living.

Consumerism is based on enhancing one’s own property and ownership, which disconnects the individual from the universe; for if one believes s/he may own any part of the universe, they separates their self from the entire universe; and the universe can only be experienced as a complete whole.

I no longer wish to view this world as various possessions; I wish to live at one with this world. I wish to live in balance with all there is. I wish to be with.

I hereby resign my perception and attitude from a focus on consuming,

and replace my attitude with a focus on harmonizing.

I will continue to work on my actions, that I may actively live in balance.


Idea-Identification on the

Edge of

Argumentation

Let’s not get
uncivilized
here;

You don’t disagree with me,
you disagree with an
idea.


A-Changin’

The Revolution will come.
Allen Ginsburg’s words will be written on the walls.
Some one will sing Bob Dylan’s songs while flowers float down from the sky.
The multitudes will celebrate.
The forgotten remembered and remembered forgotten;
existence is not bought in a supermarket.
The lime will fill the coconut, the oxygen around it.
Fortunately proportionally we’ll forgo our courtesies and unbiasedly live free.
No red marker will cross us out.
No check mark will mean a thing.
All of us.
Us and all.


Be Ready to Move

The clouds are darkening.
The tiger is about to pounce.
The flames are becoming a fire.

Be Ready to Move.

Feelings are fermenting.
Habits are turning into patterns.
The river is becoming a swamp.

Be ready to move.

The foundation is eroding.
Revelations are renewing.
Creativity is awakening.

Be ready to move.


Service With No Hierarchy

Please & Thank You
SIR”?

How ‘bout
Please & Thank You
Brother”?

There’s no power struggle here,
we’re just sharing with each other.


Okay… it’s okay

Staple your credentials to a black and white picture okay… it’s okay.

What still creates bother is a lesson I’m still learning okay… it’s okay.

Somewhere in the middle we’ll be laughing with a fiddle okay… it’s okay.


Red Candles

We lit red candles Friday night,

and the wax melted over the weekend.


How I Yearn

How I yearn to lay next to you, my Beloved.

I am but the stem of an acorn,
already fallen from its tree.

Cover me in time.

I shall grow again.


Eyes

We passed each other on the street.
The pavement flat as pavement is,
with bumps and puddles along the way.

I turned my head in your direction,
smiled,
and your head turned towards a different direction.
To what you were looking at,
I do not know;

only to not look at me.

Do you fear we could make a small connection?
That our eyes could have a conversation
and we’d just for an instant understand one another?

Do you worry I could see past your eyes
to what really is you,
behind hair that was straightened for an hour this morning,
behind makeup applied mechanically to your face,
behind even your name,
to the truth of a longing for some sort of touch,
to the truth of desire that you think cries too much?

I look in your direction,
and in response,
you turn away.

If you mean to not make (I) contact,
look forward, ahead, where you were looking before,
But don’t look away as if my face was like that of Medusa’s.
I mean you no harm,
and you only bring it upon yourself,
for in turning away,
you turn your self away,
and let nothing,
in affable comp’ny,
connect.


Memories

memories are footprints in the snow


Like Life

Like life.
There’s a lot to like… like
Winter! Winter’s wonderful!
It’s frigid and freezing and the lakes turn to ice;
we can wear scarves and skate through the night,
glide left and right,
slide under moonlight,
sway with the wind’s might,
pray that all’s all light
and it is,
oh                it is,
the winter is so nice.

See your breath in front of you?
You’ve been blessed with breathing tubes doctors call lungs.

See the birds fly south;
watch ‘em leave from the warmth of your house and
know they will return, no doubt,
when the season turns to spring,
but till then we’ll wait to hear ‘em sing.
Sorry, their nests don’t have air conditioning.

See the snow float gently down;
watch it grow without a sound,
silently,
non-violently,
covering this antique town,
shops and homes,
education bones,
trees that have no need for leaves
and
pines that still remind us of green;
chapels and banks,
children and snakes
I don’t say it often enough, but snow:
Thanks
for being free from prejudice—
a blanket of white on all of us.
Snow: the perfect equalizer;
we’re all part of this world—
thanks for the reminder.

Life gives us a lot to like,
nothing neither wrong nor right;
war and love, peace and fights,
we’re still alive, everything’s all light.
And when we act from compassion and not from fright,
we’ll realize Beauty is a true sight,
and Now might be
the only night we
have the chance to say how we feel, so

I love you.

Honest.

This is Real.

There’s nothing quite like life.


Scott Silberman

Where did the sun go?
Where did the warmth of affection go when the winter shut us in?
Where do high school heroes go, proud wanderers of halls?

How are dreams remembered if we never wake up?
How will dreams be realized without a life to live them?
Where are you, Scott Silberman?

In stories and fairy tales, once upon a time, when the world was perfect,
when the world was perfect.

When is the world perfect?

If not Now, then never.

For those we wish will rest in peace,
let us now live in peace.


Pressure to Party

Let’s not live such exciting lives.
Let’s relax our thrill seeking muscle with more control.
Let’s enjoy our Saturday Night.


To Be or Not To Be

We are Huwan BE-ings. We are meant To Be.
Shakespeare didn’t need to write that soliloquy.
But I’m sure glad he did,
‘Cause we’ve all questioned it.

I doubt Shakespeare hid
in his stories or his words.
In fact, I bet he lived
with them, and with the birds,
and the grass, and the snow, and the sun, and the moon.

Time is never too late.
Time is never too soon.

The wind whips your face with unceasing ferocity,
but that’s only on a windy day.
Stars and space stretch across eternity.
Remember…

It’s a New Day!


Where is time?

Even if your river flows
somewhere where I’ll never go
I still would like to tell you

You may never be my friend
I might not see you again
but it was nice to smell you

Maybe there’ll be an island
where we’ll both have a night to spend
and if I meet you

We won’t really have to think
we’ll buy eachother one more drink
but we must always be true
be true

That’s why I’m leaving.

and if you want to
i’ll have to need you

and if you need to
i’ll have to want you

and if i want to
you’re gonna need you

and if i need you
you’ll have to want to

to let to let to let to let to let
to let to need to want to let to need
to let to let to let to let to let
to let to need your wants to let to want your needs
to want to let your needs to want to just believe
to let you be your wants to let you want your needs
to want to need your let to need to let your wants
to want to want to let to need to need to need
your want to let to need
you need to let your wants
you need to let your wants
you need to let your wants
want
you want to let your needs
you want to let your needs
you need to let your wants
you need to let your wants

Peculiar

 

Peculiar, peculiar,

a little different
is
a little peculiar.

Is it funny? Shall we laugh?
Is it sad? Shall we cry?
Is it comfortable or uncomfortable?
Is it…
…okay?

Peculiar, peculiar,

it’s just a little

peculiar.


The Concept “Death”

Death

is the strangest thing to

Live

with.


Just In Case…

the red light symbolizes the right of way,
we might recognize the night is good as day.

it’s hard to smile when you want to frown,
it’s hard to dance when we’re dressed like clowns,
but there’s nothing wrong with being wrong,
no,
there’s nothing wrong with being wrong.


Dynamic Motion

The wind is breathing slow—
You can see it in the snow:
a fast fall,
then an updraft;
a rushed gust,
then a relaxed pass;
an angry throw down, shouting snow
on the tinker toy town,
and then
a gentle,
silent
lay   down,
floating
softly
till
stopped    by
ground.


Revel-ation

in the morning

there is day


Emotional Clock

I don’t like telling time with numbers.

Well, then, how do you tell?

By emotions, of course.

Like now, I feel, it’s time to move on.


Nothing

No thing’s one hundred
percent. Every thing has a
bit of every thing.


The Most Revealing Poem Ever Written

this is a poem


Sev-en-teen

The world is only
seventeen syllables, so
let it easy, flow.


Just Relax

Just relax; Just bliss out;
there’s no need for a life of doubt.
Hold your head and lose your mind,
Life’s too perfect to confine.

Keep your name, but let it change,
everything will rearrange.
And when it does, smile because
all will be, is now, and was.


Letter to an Unknown, from an Unknown

Dear Everything,

Thanks.

Love,


Simple Truth Test

There’s no such thing as losing or winning;
failure and success do not exist;
every living moment—so unique we cannot miss.

Beauty shines in any choice
and every thing you do.

The choice that feels most right, fully,
that choice is your True you.


in-tune-ment

at-one-ment

in the event that we die,

let’s all just say thanks to adonai
for eye & eye we remember what we’ve
always known…
something denied since we were thrown out of
the garden of eden (with knowledge, duality gave us our suffering)
something denied since we accepted our freedom,
as free will makes possible mistakes and distress,
something denied never again:

acceptance of abraxas

allows the sabbath

allows the messiah to be alive right now, in/out/between every individual,
every pleasure and every pain,
every loss and every gain,
black-with-white,

for the messiah is, and has always and forever been, everything


Sat-Chit-Ananda

Death is not the end,
nor is bliss the goal.
Excitement is not the beginning,
nor is sorrow the point.

Duality is constriction.
Meeting Life’s movements is True Self BEING.


The Goddess Music

(inspired by Victor Wooten’s The Music Lesson)

In time,
Notes last as long as the breath.
In time,
Tune in to every aspect.
In time,
Quietly, loud as can be.
In time,
Thank Music for setting us free.

In time,
We begin by feeling the groove.
In time,
Methods are tools we use.
In time,
The world responds to intent.
In time,
Thank Music for the hearts we’ve been lent.

In time,
Life is all vibration.
In time,
Listen, and feel the sensation.
In time,
The Essence, LOVE, is waiting.
In time,
Grow with it by not concentrating.

In time,
We set up and change every phrase.
In time,
Our power is surrounded by space.
In time,
We KNOW we are one with Peace.
In time,
Living Music is what makes Life so easy.


Life-Poetry

 

Life is so Perfect,

writing poetry is like
playing tennis with
a wall

or

sprinkling water on a
waterfall.


The Most Meaningful Lesson Ever Written

this is meaningless


Three Dreams in the Sun:

A purple moon rises;

Dandelions sway through tribal lovers dancing;

Star-colored fingertips soft like tip-toes;


Shadow Play

i been dancing with my shadow.
it’s a split-second-step ahead of me;
at least, that’s how it looks.

i wonder if Beethoven ever wondered about space…


They Expect But I Just Let

they said i oughta go to bed,
but i just laughed and played make-believe instead.

they said i shouldn’t make such a scene,
but i just barked like a dog in a dream.

they said i shouldn’t look so silly,
but i just smiled and played with my willy.

they said i had to get a job,
but i just went to the carnival and did the apple-bob.

they said it was time to go out and dance,
but i just sat and read a fantasy tale of romance.

they said i was sick strange weird and unwell,
but i just laid on the grass breathing in the fresh flower smell.

they said i’ve changed,
but i can’t complain.

they said i made them feel uncomfortable,
but i asked them why and they didn’t know.

they said they didn’t like who i’d become,
but i just loved every one.

they said they didn’t know what to say,
but i stayed silent and just played and played.


A Black Star

yee haw, like cowboys, riding out west,
the outback,
the relax,
the dream of the best.

spun through a cyclone 10 km past Candyland,
dropped top on bottom by a falcon that didn’t give a damn,
claws removed,
piercings proving pain,
pulse still moving same.
mind always in
sane.

shunning the sun in a cave by the beach,
making love to the moon like i think it’s reach-
able,
a finger pointing but a taste of disjointing this
reality from the real, this
universe answering:
how do you feel?

distraction clouds covering satisfaction skies.

stars: blue, white, black.
yes, a black star… how bout that?


All Is Still

You YELL!
You SCREAM!
You flail your limbs and thrust the air.
You SHOUT!
You HOLLER!
You buzz and whir and spin and tick.

When you slow,
pause,
and      stop,
the stillness welcomes you with unconditional acceptance,
as if you never disrupted it,
as if you never could.

We are this stillness.


“A Comedy With Tragic Relief”

there are reasons to laugh and
seasons to cry and
some times i hear the long-traveled wind sigh,

from one person to an other,
each taking their story so seriously;
the dehydrated desert wanderer
lies down and sleeps deliriously.

and where is god in all these plays?

she’s the soul audience member,
reminding the actors, “there is no audience,
but there is a play.
you have no need to bow or leave the stage.
lay down and rest if you want.”