"i tend to judge people by how much effort they put into their own life.
Because that's really what im going to be sharing with them. Is their life.
With mine.
if they barely care about their own existence.
then the connotation is that i have to put that effort in to care for them.
that careful and precise art of embodying the human body in primary reality.
in order to channel time correctly.
the careful and precise alignment of the fulcrum of choice.
But.
its corruption.
or an intentional distortion of this process.
is such incalculable damage. why.
i can see no explanation beyond spite.
otherwise:
sadness rising to anger. judgment rising to scorn.
these emotions can be refined with reason to an understanding in face to face confrontation.
But spite does not create.
but the machine of spite. nothing else.
but that venom.
criminal.
So.
to care for another.
that is grace, and to generate the ways of the circle of grace. it is so fragile.
that humility is the only thing that makes this palatable.
if it is real.
the extremely fine art to take the heart of vulnerability from a wall.
to a door.
With a lock..
to reach this state is to freely share the fruits of time. knowledge.
labour.
passion.
therein is the High delight of the connoisseur.
who.
after sharing an exchange of words with another. experiences a multiple enrichment and expansion of his time.
And the story of it in itself told ripples beyond in the circles abounding.
that is the intent of comedy.
the effort to maintain all of it.
to ensure it continues on and renews.
And is here.
is the meaning of comedy. "
Oct 4, 2020
Oct 4, 2020 at 2:52 AM UTC
The gnawing in my mind
Like a hammer striking a bell:
Riding in an iron Balloon
Buoyed in a noxious plume
Dark tunic slowly yellowed in the flame of acrid gas
Round goggles of the iron mask corroding
Flakes of steel falling away
Floating above a skinny caustic river
Encircling winding channels
Banks of concrete bleached by the sun
Endlessly eaten
By the current's maw
Hard white lights sheen on the surface
Where bridges collapsed
The rhythm of my breath
The wisp of a noxious zephyr
And the steady flow of the stream below
Are the only sounds
Out of green purple twilight
A zeppelin comes from the east
Propellers humming
Flying behemoth with an
Arcade of steel and glass
Draws near
Delivers my poison, and,
My quaking mind vindicated lastly like a dream:
Pass the lips 'ere the river of song into the chorus of the
Wide golden shining sea
Brilliant coral cascading in blooming rainbow jungles
Dance of Life teeming
Beneath the surf
Oct 27, 2019
Oct 27, 2019 at 3:32 AM UTC
Ancient dreames fly in the face of the fire,
The Aer of the flame carven crystal Grove:
Tireless unstoppable force; repoire borne said
Again anew drifting morphing--
Snowflakes dart express in the sylvan dark,
Pushed madly by yawning Boreal wind,
Streaking in countless trains, innumerable
Gleaming vessels in the Steel Lamplight,
Pouring through the vista syncopated by
Silhouetted pines.
Feb 19, 2018
Feb 19, 2018 at 3:50 PM UTC
Clouds roll on by the by,
How they tease the sinews of mine eye!
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 1:24 AM UTC
Every dance from every heart is a flower blooming in Heaven.
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 8:33 AM UTC
i. Sometimes the sky is purple where the firelight of the Sun meets the vapour of the Earth, and the vast mountains are overlain with crystals of ice and snow, scintillating among the peaks presiding above, and here IS the habitation of dragons, who soar in procession and ride o'er the rolling pure white, whose claws razor & move & rivet the Earth, and her bounty, for formations to roost, whose faces and bodies scale with white crystals, hanging bright and so clear, opened, void of concealment, and their eyes are orbs of lightning, looks of arcing illumination that hang in the sky like branches of a tall tree, and speak words like polished stones that ripple upon a balmy pool, like the flowing sounds of Vespers that Holy Angels play to you Endlessly in ur dreams, in the rhythm of golden oceans, and the melodies of rainbow harps, forever whispering to you during the passage of night and day.
ii. The blind snake gropes along the ground, bleary eyed, conceiving the body as a *** totem, seeking ultimately only to consume his own tail.
Mar 1, 2014
Mar 1, 2014 at 1:43 PM UTC
Prairie winds howling from the south, the entire southern plane a gaping maw issuing forth wide frozen tides in the air scorching the land. peering thru the open blotches of the windshield on the way home, headlights revealing the rolling billows of misty scintillating snow devouring the gravel road way, old raised green truck roars thru the drifts. Earlier, twilight. Freezing. Everything the wind touches, everything that blocks its path becomes still and solid and severely dense. Had a bubble bath before i went out. AB =Long Johns 7 mo's. outta the year. Cheeks barely exposed to the elements, cells begin to deteriorate instantly, the strong stolid ache appears seconds afterward, and spreads in my blood quickly, and doesn't stop till some minutes after i seek refuge in the truck. Taking an elk. old bull. my step dad bumbles the first shot and the beast runs down the slope. He shoots it again. Cuts the throat and eventually takes off the head. Draining Blood is steaming. Leave the entrails in the snowscaped pasture land. Chain the legs to the bale mover on the back of the truck and make for the shop a few miles away. There Fire rages in an old steel drum in the corner, burning wood blocks and black petroleum wax leftover from the pigs that blast out from the pipelines. Feeney's in my coffee mug. The heat radiates just enough to reach us in middle room but we still wear full coveralls against to stifle the endless cold. We hang the carcass by running a steel rod through its achilles tendons. Grandpa & Stepdad refer to a murdered family in Consort whose place was burned down, suspect the son was involved in a drug deal gone bad. (Cohen bros. come to mind. Real life in Alberta & BC seems a blend of Big Lebowski and No Country). Skinning the elk. Carving it up. Learning the different cuts of meat, where t-bones come from, tenderloin, round steak, sirloin. Cool. Mass more than a 100 lbs of meat for jerky making. Country cousins comin over the next few days to help with cutting it all up. Striking a balance between fine articulation and the art of laughing. Turns out Everyone respects poetry for the audience. Good god y'all.
Feb 20, 2014
Feb 20, 2014 at 12:48 AM UTC
Tree Of Life
Darkness & Slurping
Ghosts haunt primeval goo,
Whispering genetic code
God thinks Helixes look Cool
Light seems to gesticulate underwater.
A Thousand Thousand centuries
The Baptistina Baby kisses Chicxulub
(Or Vulcanism runs amok)
And then Platypus,
And then Plato,
And then Paradise City
Forever & Ever
Amen
Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 3:19 AM UTC
Sleep among the sunflowers
Gaze at the felicity of raining stars
Ages & angels pass by you
Like perennials in the park
Nov 7, 2013
Nov 7, 2013 at 1:38 AM UTC
When the vaults of Heaven
Let go of that one,
Fateful star:
The skies leapt at her arrival
The air beckoned her ever on
& The winds carried her forward
So that she may never fall,
And so she soared:
Dancing round Earth's icy poles
Skirting the ancient tree tops
& Laughing among mountain peaks
At last She spiralled down the sleepy valley
That opens upon the sea...
There, o'er the deep fathomless surface
Containing its portion of the cosmic wild,
She crept forward
To see her reflection fly
Moving in unison
with waves swifting mild:
And in it revealed
The face of a Child
Tiny features, innocent grace
Yet an unspoken yearning,
A longing in her face:
For her eyes told a story
No words ever conveyed,
Her eyes told a story
Wrapped in a blanket of tears,
Her eyes revealing a story
Untouched by the passing of years...
And her eyes lifted to Heaven
And the rain drops soon came,
Her gaze steadfast towards Father
Mixed the celestial water, with pain--
It was then she remembered her Home,
With the blessings of ten thousand mornings gone,
And the promise of many more than that to come...
So She gave herself again to Father
While she continued to roam,
But her heart betrayed a knowing
In Whom she called Home.
Sep 27, 2013
Sep 27, 2013 at 1:09 PM UTC