We floated in a cold, dark no place
to watch the light being born.
You took my hand;
pulled me from the fire
as truth broke loose.
We learned what we learned
language in light.
On Earth, falling snow covered our souls.
There is always a slight chill in paradise.
And that’s how the story unfolds.
We don't know why it happens
but it is so very much fun.
Sometimes we stand in a storm hoping to get hit by lightning
but, since we don’t know statistics,
end up only soaked and unluminated.
Tonight, we’ll watch the stars
as though we don’t belong there.
Our body heat will melt the snowflakes
while the truth keeps breaking loose.
Moses made cookies and was quite pleased with himself!
I had to apologize for minoring in Philosophy.
Wittgenstein was right on tract.
All mothers are disappointed by too much familienähnlichkeit.
Mothers prefer hard sciences.
I only want to study patent nonsense.
I was about
to open that door
when I got the phone call.
I don’t remember anything before that
and I’ve never asked for help since.
My head started to tic
like a jumping bean,
like a glitchy video,
like a gull-durned dirty bomb ’bout to go.
I thought first to protect the kids.
The kids said, “We don’t share.”
I said, “Are you invincible?”
The kids said, “Bro, go away and let us play.”
Then I took to the elders.
I talked with them of luck and free will.
They fed me sweet breads iced with cinnamon and fate.
“These are brief times, mostly happy, swirling in mystery…”
Afterwards, I could say goodbye without feeling my everything churning and grinding unto itself and onto the floor and out of the door and into the street to await a thing without attention or intention.
I imagine this story continues long after we go home for the night.
We often talk
long through the night
of mistaking our selves
as things that endure
and how quickly
we forget that we’re
creatures using narrative
to get on in this world.
Let’s recall this story:
is the mission
means, “Forget your self
all at once and forever is to be God
So, let’s sit together
through this long night
and come morning we’ll see
what the sunlight brings.
* “A rare experience of a moment at daybreak, when something in nature seems to reveal all consciousness, cannot be explained at noon. Yet it is part of the day’s unity.”
– Charles Ives, https://charlesives.org
What's your name? What's your prayer? Wish for something now. Wait for something later. What is there to fear, if we know there is a plan? What is there to do, held by higher hands? Will we ever find the words to sing this secret song? Whatever is the feeling that will keep us strong. Oh, why should we be scared? We know we know we have it all. We've got no secrets we can hide. What's your name? What's your prayer? Wish for something now. Wait for something later. Now we've got it all, do we care what's in store? Now we've got it all do we care what’s even real? I want this to be real so come on, come on, come on over here and tell me what’s your name.
It’s been a long, long time
since you needed me so
I’m going down to the cavern and
I’m gonna live
down in the cavern.
Let me burrow from my sorrow
’cause I feel down on my luck.
I’m gonna go down to the cavern and
I’m gonna live
down in the cavern.
I’m gonna meet with all the spiders
and the shadow-watchers, too.
The days are strange and wistful
down there in the cavern.
The information echoes incomplete.
The shadow-watchers taught me
I should have at hand
more than a solitary dream.
The shadow-watchers tend a fire for us.
They have a place for you and me.
They tell familiar tales
of the lives we think we’re living.
They speak through rancid smoke
and fleeting heat, cavern walls
In the chamber, you
can’t help but hear
the stories that they tell.
In the cavern, you
but almost feel alive.
I'm running to the edge of the world. Me and the flat-earthers.
We’re wandering through hazy, summertime showers. We’re looking for conspirator’s gold at the end of the rainbow.
I need a magic sky. Me and the flat-earthers.
I need a firmament of painted glass and persecution. I need a magic sky where I can really see the light.
We are waiting for you at the edge of the world. Me and the flat-earthers.
We are waiting for your breaking point. You’ll just have to trust us.
It’ll happen to you. And then you’ll learn the meaning of goodbye.
Who’s my soul mate?
I’m my soul mate.
You’re my soul mate.
I love it all.
Don’t you love it all?
Let me be the one who knows you best.
Let’s spread our faces all over the world.
Let’s stay up as long as we can
this, our last, cold night in Eden.
Let’s savor the tastes of love…
Lover, don’t leave me wanting that thing;
that thing I’d never had before.
Lover, don’t leave me on my own
like a sunset without a rising moon,
like eyes without a face to see.
There’s more to this
than what our fickle free will
would have us believe.
Do we beat our own hearts?
Can we not hear the thunder outside?
what you want
to see me do.
And if your mind sometimes
gets wrapped around it all,
Well…the birds fly.
The ocean waves.
The wind blows.
The mind minds.
who want for company,
In a reality
that is an unfolding
of course you’re gonna
change your mind.
You’re gonna change
your goddang everything!
Just look at someone
and it changes everything.
A sharp inhale
It’s all changed.
The birds fly.
The ocean waves
The wind blows.
We are that WE ARE.
This life is filled
with love and indifference.
of matter of course it is.
I want your company
this is my heart:
I put it in your hands
I trust you.
This is not a poem about how to accept yourself because that is imposs- ible. For whom is there to do the ac- cepting and what is ac- cepted? Who is the one? Show me. What is the one? Show me. Show me. Show me. This is not a poem about the tale of you saying yes to the tale of you. Who accepts? Have you heard that you can not pull yourself up by your own bootstraps? Visu- alize- this act and ask: What is you? Who is you? This is not a poem. This is a gun pointed at you. Don’t be afraid. Be free. Bite the bullet.