Summer 1986 Sunday 5:30AM

Misty morning in Malibu.
Seagulls stitch the sea to a subtle
silver sky. They sputter stridently.
Each elegant gull hovers effortlessly.
Entreating each other. Echos bounce
off the sound of the surf into eternity. The screeching of many a
soliloquy akin to silence.

I sit on the pier. The water before
me washes onto the staccato legs
of tiny waterbirds who wander
in and out of the surf. Little
windblown ***** of ecru and grey
wool. I worship in the womb of
the great goddess ~ nature. I wasn't to know the Creator was watching patiently...

6:30AM
I make my unhurried way up the
pier to my car. A cheap but
comfortable convertable. Nobody
walks in LA. I punch in a tape.
Don Henley. Boys of Summer.

I take PCH up to the incline that
takes you from the beach. Pushing
the pedal slightly as I slide by the
colossal bleached cliffs of
Palacades Park. There the homeless
sleep under the benches dedicated
by friends and family in
rememberance of loved ones.
Small plaques attatched for
posterity.

My hands are on the steering wheel
at 7 and 12 o'clock.I look at the cast
I wear on my right wrist. A token
of rememberance from an angry romance. He and I parted
respectively, if not at all
respectfully. I drive.

7:00AM
Venice beach. Not yet boysterous.
But never boring. The young people
(and old) still bundled together in bed. Saturday night hangovers will
be had by most of the denizens of
Venice beach boardwalk. A grainy
eyed few wander around abstractidly. Shopowners enter
their buildings, their storefronts
almost as small as booths. Graphitti
and giant works of art grace walls
everywhere ~ Jim Morrison and
Venus in workout leggings much
in evidence.

I smoke my cigarette and drink my
hot coffee carefully in the open cafe'.
I consider the eyefest of the crowd
that will congregate here to enjoy
the clement weather.
The cacophony and the clamor.
Touristas and Los Angelinos alike
drawn In by calculating vendors
and coyote souled street performers.
I look forward to seeing the
non conformity usually. But not
today. For now I sit in the quiet cafe'.

Venice beach. Vulpine. Vacuous.
A strangely vunerable venue. The
***** and the beautiful. The talented and the ******.

A street performance pianist trundles his acoustic piano on
casters out onto the boardwalk.
I ask him if I may play. He looks
at my cast doubtfully.
"I can still play..." I tell him.
He ascents and listens thoughtfully
as I play my compositions. He really
likes them. I ****** the ebony and
the ivory with insistant fingers.
The smile on his face is irrepressable. I smile back and we
flirt in self conceous, fitful fashion.
Time to leave.

9:00AM
Radio is on in my car now. A cut
from the musical Chess. One night
in Bangkok makes the hard man
humble... I like the driving beat.
I'm going up I-10, a single blood cell
in the main artery that brings life
to the flesh of this mamouth town.
Traffic is tenuous. A boon here in
this conjested city.

I drive to Fairfax and Sunset, where
I lived with in a tiny one-bedroom
apartment with my mom. An
ambitious actress. I an ambivalent
artist.

Sunset. The Roxy and Whiskey-a-
Go-Go. Cartoon characters Rocky
and Bullwinkle casually cavort on
the top of a building. Billboards
as tall as the Hollywood sign. The
street of broken hearts for many
an actress -slash-model. They
wander about on street corners
looking haughty and haunted.
Waiting for who knows who to
honk. Their dreams have flown
away like the exhailation of smoke
from the mechanical lungs of the
Marlboro Man. Schwab's drugstore
and diner. The place where some
famous starlet was discovered.
Delivered into the arms of the
Hollywood machine. I opt to go
to the Sunset Grill.

11:00AM
I'm walking down Hollywood Blvd.
Perusing shops and persuing
pedestrian pleasures. Everyone
talks of the star-studded sidewalks.
To me they look tarnished and
filthy. Stars from a sultry smog
laden sky come to earth. The names
of some of the folks honored on
them I don't recognise.

I'm here to view movies today.
I'm definitely not going to
Grauman's Chinese Theater.
Been there. Done that. Gave the
very expensive T shirt to
Goodwill. I look around at the
proud and the plebian. The pedantic
and the pathetic. No prostitutes
out yet that I could see. Probably
toppled into bed to sleep
(for once). Deposed kings
and queens of the monarchy of the
night. The homeless hobble along
with their hair matted and askew.
Shopping carts with stuttering
wheels de reguer.

A couple of tourists with Izod shirts,
plaid shorts to the knee and deck
shoes sans socks gaze in a shop
window. It's borded by tarnished
and faded silver garlands... tinsel
Christmas tree.
"Want to buy a mood ring today?"
One of them querys his buddy,
laughingly.

I find my small theater and enter
the air conditioned lobby. I purchase
a soda and pass on the popcorn.
As I enter the theater's modestly
plush, dimly lit cocoon sanctuary
I notice very few patrons are here
for the matinee. GOOD. I finally
watch the premiere product of
Los Angeles. Movie after movie
slides across the screen. The callus
morally corrosive corporations
conspire with the creative to produce
the culmination of many art forms
in one. Cinema.

LA. Languid. Luxurious. Legendary.
Rollicking, raunchy rodeo.
Seaside city. Sophisticated. Spurious.

SPECTACULAR.

8:00PM
I wend my way up Mulholland Dr.
Another tape is playing in the deck.
One of my favorites. David + David.
Welcome to the Boomtown.

I pull over at a deserted vista. From
this viewpoint I can see the city
spread out like a blanketfof brilliance. The gridiron of LA.
Glitzy and glamorous. Generating
little gods and goddesses. A gigantic
gamble for the disingenuous and
gouache. Tinsel town. Titillating.
Tempestuous. Only the very brave
bring their dreams here... or fools
rush in where angels fear to tread.
All but the fallen angels. They thrive.

Oh! If this place could be bottled it
would be such sweet poison. I
look up at the auburn sky and back
down at the breathtaking panorama
The metropolis that is LA with awe
and angst. I carefully stub out my
cigarette and flip it irreverantly
toward the lagoon of lights.

I get in my car to drive home.
Home?
Could this imposing, inspiring,
impossible place be called home?

Well. Home is where the heart is.
And I live in the heart of a dream.
This is the city of dreams...

CITY OF ANGELS.

SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
Catherine E Jarvis
(C) 2005

the heart of trees
is strong and staunch
they exude power
through every branch

they're singing out
to calling birds
they woo and sigh
The wind their words

a canopy
With leaf is made
they bring us coolness
in their shade

no creature do they
shun... despise
their flowers rare
offering gifts to eyes

in spring they flower
in summer green
in autumn russet
their flames are seen

in winter ****
their branches bare
but they don't weep
in angst despair

for in the bud
which they will send
they bloom come spring
yes they bloom again!

they can be cut
to bring them pain
but never in vengeance
do they find gain

they make a home
for birds and bees
The lovely, gentle

heart of trees.


SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
(C) 3/21/2016

Could we with ink the ocean fill,
  And were the skies of parchment made;
Were every stalk on earth a quill,
  And every man a scribe by trade;
To write the love of God above
  Would drain the ocean dry;
Nor could the scroll contain the whole,
  Though stretched from sky to sky.

"The Love of God"
This is the last stanza of the old hymn. It was said to be written on the wall of an asylum. But the author is unknown.

13W

÷=÷=÷=÷=÷=÷=÷=÷=÷=÷

the boney stick on
the windowpane
blown like God's fin̈ger
etched his fate

÷=÷=÷=÷=÷=÷=÷=÷==÷=



SøułSurvivør aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
Catherine Jarvis '25

... birthing the words, there can
be no description for the intoxication!

breathing in the fragrance of
the ink, the wind of the
muse on your shoulders
propelling you on to choosing
words which come from the
zephyrs aroused as by
angel feathers...

there's a point where effort ends
and a clarity supernatural starts...
a point when intellect is of no use,
knowledge has no meaning...
all you ever experienced is lost
and a new reality brings on
the pangs of prismatic ******
too exquisite to be borne...

... and so the pen becomes exhausted from it's dance, and the paper becomes a magic carpet, taking the poet beyond comprehension into...

... a nebula beyond reason...

... the special place...

... no words...

... only expression.


C. Jarvis
12/28/2019

Beyond the glaze of headlights
On rain-slick onyx streets
Beyond skyscraper canyons
Where auburn smog's discrete
As it blends with the raindrops
The dirt & clouds there meet
Beyond the filthy City
There is a place so sweet.

Beyond rose scented Gardens
Filled with honey'd dew
Beyond the Cypress Colonnades
Where the Italians woo
Beyond the sugar beachpaths
Where the Sawgrass grew
look up where the Moon is
You will know it's true.

Beyond the small town quaintness
Mornings in the Sun
Where people still get to know you
You can greet everyone
Beyond delicious Bakery smells
Of bread and hot cross buns

Beyond the crime filled crucible
Where it's understood
You only live to 25
IF your luck is good
Beyond the rat **** jungle
Where evil is afoot
Beyond the teeming tenements
The place that's called The 'Hood

Beyond the farms and wheatfields
The ranches to the West
Beyond the Red Rock gullies
Where are you can, your soul, divest
Beyond the Eagles Echo cries
Beyond the doves white breast
There is a place for you to go
As time will attest

A place above the billows
Above the speckled sky
Shivering with sequins
A place so very high
Where space and time lose meaning
And matter is a sigh
Won't you travel with me?
Must you always question why?
A place where you are lost & found
Beyond the nebulae

Here on Earth we stumble
This weighted world to plod
It seems we've leaden sandals
As we go roughshod
We look to our leaders
And others to applaud
I find it very humorous
Yes, so very odd
That we should look up always

At everything but God.

Catherine Jarvis
7/8/2020

https://www.facebook.com/100004866559141/posts/1473874339451437/

This ìs spoken word.
I want to talk.
Folks'll put you
In a box.
It has six sides.
There's lots in stock.
Works just like a
Broken clock.
It fits in life
Two times a day.
Once the cradle.
Once the grave.
Then they'll fix
A label, TOO.
Once it's on it
STICKS LIKE GLUE.

There's a man
Down on the street.
Not someone you'd
Want to meet.
Drinks his meals
So he won't eat...
Shuffles 'round
Sits on the curb.
He's a "mumbler".
He's "disturbed".
Talks to self
Because he's shunned.
Got a label...
He's a ***.

There's a woman
Has no phone.
Has twenty cats
'Coz she's alone.
She talks to them
When in the mood.
She's so poor
She eats their food.
Yup. She has an
Attitude...
Has no husband
Who'd get paid.
On HER there are
Labels laid...
She's a SPINSTER.
An OLD MAID.

There's a teen
Who is arrested.
He's a menace.
It's attested.
Nope. He's not
Very nice.
He is into drugs & vice.
Is this "DELINQUENT"
Past retrieval?
Is he past knowing
'Coz he's evil?

Tie die. Peace sign.
Kinda trippy.
He's a "LONGHAIR"
He's a "HIPPIE".

Is she lovely?
Or "STUCK UP"
He's a "DOG"
The laughter's ****.

--------
[chorus]
They aren't "NORMAL".
They're "unstable".
Slap 'em with a
POST-IT LABEL.
--------

There's a girl
Who eats her pain.
Downs her food
Unrestrained.
She's bulimic
So she's "CRAZY"
She may be "FAT"
So she is "LAZY"
Another on the
"crazy" list...
His anger's inward,
He's depressed.
He may drink
So he's a "******".
Here's another label...
"LOSER"

Then there's the boy
Who lashes out.
Beats kids up.
He's a lout.
He is wild and
He is wooly.
He is labeled as a
"BULLY".
There's another
Kid who's shy.
So he gets the
Blackened eye.
He is "sraight"
He don't get high.
Nose in book,
He goes unheard.
What's his label?
He's a "NERD".

[chorus]

There's a one
We ALL know's BAD.
She was *****
By her own dad.
At age thirteen
She's "knocked up".
We ALL know her...
She's a "****".

There's a man
Who wears tattoos.
Labels he will never lose.
"WHITE TRASH" 'cuz
He owns a bike.
She likes women.
She's a "****".
She smokes fatties
So she's a "stoner"
He's just "weird"
'Coz he's a loner.
He loves men,
So he's a "***"
She loves him
So she's a "hag"
How'd YOU like
That odious tag?
Let's all do
The Label Rag!
Don't it make the
Tongues just wag?
It's enough to
MAKE YA GAG.

[chorus]

Tribal nation?
I'll be brief.
He's an "Indian"
Call him "Chief"
Does it make
White egos bigger
To call a black man
"BOY" ? You snicker
Is that wisdom
Do ya figger?
Whatcha think
THAT'S gonna trigger?
Will the term "*****"
Do the trick?
How 'bout "******"?
How 'bout "****"?
How 'bout "****"?
That ***** Jew.
Well.
Let's take a look at YOU.

Look in the mirror.
The view is free.
Look in there!
What do you see?
Do you see yourself...
Or ME?

Is there smoke?
Are you deceived?
What's th label
You've received?


Look out dere!
HERE COME DA JUDGE!
10 feet tall & has a
GRUDGE!
And since we're getting
Really formal
Got another label.
NORMAL.
You judge someone
With capital blocks
Cuz you can't read
A CEREAL BOX?
Is prejudice the
Meal you eat?
Label on that
And it ain't WHEAT.

[chorus]

Yes. I'm white.
And I am sixty.
I ain't young. I ain't ****.
But I'm a POET
I can TALK.
I have been
Around th block.
You don't like it
You can WALK.
YOU WON'T PUT
ME IN A BOX.
I wasn't a "******".
I wasn't a "tweeker".
Was a "CRACKHEAD".
A ******* seeker.
Finally got it in my head.
There's another label.... DEAD

Yeah. I'm a Christian.
"Jesus Freak"
I'm not ashamed
Because I seek!
Believe'n sure don't
Make me WEAK.

I'M DONE WITH
THE DISSIN' AND
THE TRASHIN'!
Got a concept called

COMPASSION!

Yeah. I know it's
Not in fashion...
But this no joke.
It's not a GAME.
I got a label...

It's my NAME.

I got another
Worth the seeing.
Another "label"...

HUMAN BEING.

Yeah. I'll preach.
I'm gonna shout.

My name is

CATHERINE.

Over. OUT.



SøułSurvivør aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
Catherine Jarvis
(C) 6/13/2017


Been up all night
Writing this.

Got to get some
Shut-eye...

See you all later.

♡♡ LUV YA! ♡♡

I am a sentinel
Poet of stone
Sitting apart
Sitting alone.

I do not twinkle
No star made of glass
I do not think
About things of the past.

I'm no wooden flute
Played with feeling and ease.
My breathing on earth
Has long ago ceased.

I'm no longer able  
To hear, nor to talk
But when I move  
YOU WILL HEAR ME WALK.

I'm not man or woman
I'm not boy or girl.
I no longer see  
With the eyes of this world.

I cannot touch
And I cannot feel.
But I can exist  
I assure you I'm real.

I am an island
a massive stone head.
An ossified remnant  
Of the long-ago dead.

I haunt the gravestones
They draw me. They lure.
I am so like them
I will endure.

Yes, I'm a stone angel
Your flowers I see,
But I cannot smell them
For I cannot breathe.

Yes, those stone markers
A metaphor be.
Those silent stones
Are actually ME.


Soul Survivor

A Story of Scientology and the
Mental Health System Connection

BACKGROUND

I was born Catherine Eugenia Jarvis,  and I was a *horrible child. The kinda kid that you'd LOOK for if she got lost... but NOT very hard. I was the sandwich child. The red headed one. The BAD girl. A terrible tease.

But inside I SO longed to be loved. There just wasn't alot of that to go 'round. Mom was working or sick. And dad worked LONG hours. My sister and I were ***** at age 4 & 3 respectively. She felt guilty she couldn't "protect" me, so she withdrew. Then my little brother was born. He was my sister's little doll. And it wounded me so that I lashed out. I targeted my poor little brother. I called him names, names that I knew went straight to his HEART. I'm weeping now. How I wish I could change the past! Dear reader, I have a samurai tongue. And I knew how to cut where it would hurt the MOST. A fact I'm not at all proud of! Inside i wept SO bitterly! I did not want to do what I did! But SOMETHING compelled me...

Then at the age of 13 I began to drink. I started using "white crosses". ***. By 14 I was using LSD. ***. Peyote. I was SO out of control!  My poor parents despaired...

Then... a MIRACLE! My parents put me in college when I was 16. I hated high school with a PASSION. I didn't fit in anywhere. Not even with the stoners. I was kicked out of my 10th year for ditching and possession of marijuana. My vice-principle told me I'd always be a LOSER. That I'd never accomplish anything in life. Nice. He put me in Juvie. My parents got a psychologist. He said I was bored in high school because I was too smart. So they put me in college. I THRIVED! I still ditched a bit, but I could take ART CLASSES! And WRITING! POETRY! And MUSIC! And the people were SO different! They LIKED ME! Well. Part of THAT was because I lost weight. About 50 lbs! I was actually pretty. For the first time in my life. And to say THAT was confusing wouldn't be nearly enough.

At any rate, I'd CHANGED. I became very spiritual. I read about Transcendental Meditation. I read the book "Siddhartha". I dabbled in the Self Realization Fellowship.
And, finally, I joined the

"Church" of Scientology.

THE WORST MISTAKE OF MY YOUNG LIFE

I was 19 years old.

Let me tune my fiddle 🎻
Rosen up my bow
I'm gonna play some music 🎶
This is how it goes...

A puglistic apology
A puce, cerulean green
A typical singularity
A misanthropic preen
A conjoined polarity
A char woman queen
Simian anthropology
Avian submarine....

I owe you an apology
I really must come clean
I could play words for hours
But this is what I mean:

I'm truly playing music 🎶
As all true poets know
The paper is my violin 🎻
And my pen's my bow!


SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage
2022

Death comes an infant
Biting on the breast.
A nightɓirds's call...
a weighted chest.

Death comes a jester.
How he cavorts!
Kings and Queens laugh
And reign in his court.

They jeer his antics!
They do... for now.
But in the end

THEY SHALL ALL BOW.


SøułSurvivør
(C) 5/28/2017

Weeping through the watercolor window
Peering through the placid pane
There in widow's weeds she's waiting
Garments sodden by the rain.

There the drunken drops a'dreaming
Pelting down through leaking light
Joining with her surfeit sorrow
Wash away the skin of night.

There the bride In black, becoming,
Blonde hair streaming down her side
Remembers, gazing out, her garden,
Now she's trapped on the inside

To her tearstained couch she wanders
Back to grief which she endures
Cacophony will be her council
Affliction has no earthly cure.

There in the foyer of her fancy
Nothing is as she had planned
The harvest, problems she had planted,
Become the garden of the ******.


SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc

-
expect nothing to go as planned
except for the changes

expect changes in your plans
and you'll never be disappointed

[10W X 2]
SoulSurvivor
(C) 3/25/2016

I wrote this after my
yard sale was cancelled...

smooth
as marble
strangely warm
are her
alabaster arms

benieth
long bangs
a curve of grace
is her
piquant little
face

a waif-like
gamen little thing
she is a fairie
with no wings

a smudge
of feathers round
her head
she lies on tile

almost
dead

the world saw
her wounds and scars
but we don't
care unless they're

OURS


now her
pain is
in the
past

now
she
has
her
wings
at
last




(c) SoulSurvivor Aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc

What if I had no control
Of bitterness, I of hatred bold
What I say is cruel and wrong
You and I don't get along.

What if we planted seeds
Of evil... we in hell conceived.
What if I was a serial killer
Uncaptured and spreading terror

What if I was unrestrained
In tongue wicked and untamed
Holding the bit between my teeth
A horse of wrath beyond belief!

Do you think it's weak to hold that in?
The pounding weight of horrid sin?
Please don't pronounce me weak!
All I want is to learn, to seek!

Yes, meekness isn't weakness
The opposite in fact! Ì now seek
Power under great control
Childhood toll I am old..

Lord, give mercy to preserve and save
From the cradle to the grave.

A million people drinking
Their lemon-flavored tea
A billion bottles floating
Upon a poisoned sea

Within each bottle there's a note
To peeps who find the plastic shell
It's just a slip of paper
From the manufacturer from hell.

The water pipes in
old Detroit
Are poisoning kids dead
Because the linings have worn off
And underneath
was lead

Pollution will run
Red as blood
The sun as black as coal
While the fat cats
Who caused it
Relax on sandy shoals.

How can we prevent this?
Is Recycling the way?
Hasn't helped much
That I can see

I prefer to PRAY


SoulSurvivor
November 2021

I have walked along a road
That not many will take on
I have carried heavy loads
I've done right. I've done wrong.
I have held a pilgrim's pack
So long... so long...

Chorus
I am now a living stone
In a house which no one found
And I have felt my spirit groan
With no one else around

Alone
Alone

And I am still a living stone
I gave up, oh, all of Me
I am just a stone that stumbles
And I am a stone thrown free

Chorus

I am just a part of castles
In the sky & on the brink
I'm a stone cast on a pond
Skipping there at last to sink

Alone
Alone

Through many trials, Toils and snares
The slave trader came to know
Like him I know I brought it in
With the rock & with the snow...

But....

I know bruised reeds He will not break
A gut'ring lamp He won't put out
Though I'm rejected by the world
Here am I to scream out loud...

I'm not alone!
I'm not alone!

I'm not alone...


SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage
3/18/2021

One.

You are fraught, and in sin caught
Still, you hear the spirit's call
Yes, you wallow in the mud
You cannot move at all!

You want to see the Father, God,
You come from sin's dark cave,
But your transgressions are so great!
Your Iniquities depraved!

You dress in purple, finest silk,
You're designer clad.
But you know your true attire
Is filthinesss and rags!

You are wanting, and you know
That this is your true state,
So you sob a plea to God
It wouldn't be too late!

It's been years, but God still hears!
You have passed the test!
His Spirit floats into your heart,
And you are truly blessed!!


SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc aka

Catherine Jarvis '25

The sun went to bed angry.
It sliced itself on the razor's edge of the mountains. Bleeding all over the sky. Rivulets of blood seeping down into the dry River beds. Mars couldn't even soothe it. He glowed red in the sky. Its fury made the moon blood.

Then the sun woke up on the wrong side of the sheets. Dawn was depressed and looked like sludge. Morose clouds muffle my breath. Weakened my lungs cry out for air... And find only fog. The kind of fog that gives you asthma. I have COPD in my emotions, and dust has seeped into my brain.

I call out to the only relief I know. My words bounce off the sky. But later that day a single sunbeam burst through the clouds,  highlighting a pair of butterflies dancing together.

God moves in mysterious ways His wonders to perform...


SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
Catherine Jarvis
(C) 8/15/2016

spirituality
isn't foxhole prayers
it is not hoping God is there.

it isn't something you can skip
because it is relationship

would you go and ask advice
from someone you
had talked to twice?

would you ask for things your end
from someone who was not your friend?

people think prayer gets things free
they want to win the lottery!!

i can tell you... God's angry 'cause
people think He's santa claus!!!

i existed by my whim
a million miles away from Him.

I want to be inspired by
the one who saved me...
... chose to die.

these are plain and simple facts
i've been lazy... very lax.

this world is hurting!
it's headed for a pit!
i didn't pray for all of it!

i gave up. i ran away.
I was cowardly what can i say?

life is hard you must confront
I've been running
from the front!

i want to do so much more
life has got so much in store!

so here i am... at step one
right back where i started from.


catherine jarvis
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc aka
SoulSurvivor


I have been writing about
Being so "spiritual" and have
Neglected even my most basic
Duties as a Believer.

I must get back to my roots

Thè Rose breasted the foamy sea,
a hand came dripping from the waves,
'twas watery death, Queen Witch herself!
Sand clotted song pushed
through her ribs.

Chorus
A nova made her blackness sigh,
She was soaking in the brine...
Sing, ancient Witch, on your crack'd shell,
Sing and wash your skin so fine.

Rose as scepter, dark and fearsome,
stars to light death's luminous blade
curved to catch the careless kelp
to be placed before the Witch.

Chorus

The Queen laughs at all her ribs
that have been broken by her music,
She selects one for a rotting sailor.
Placing it in Adam's ribcage,
She waves her scepter, HE'S ALIVE!

But in the process the wounded Rose breaks,
sending cracks up her hand and arm!
When, at last, it breaks her heart,
she falls apart into the sand.

Chorus


[Bridge
By her husband she will lie
A pile to fill an hour glass
For it was meet that she should die,
for then they will embrace at last


SoulSurvivor
aka Write of Passage
and Invisible inc
Catherine Jarvis

Black fabric masks
Shark dead eyes
Angels & devils
Wear a disguise
The face, the lips
Are a surprise
What is Truth?
What are lies?

Men & women do the dance
For lure of mating
Take The chance
Whether China. U.S. France  
Certainly a strange romance.

To & fro. Back & forth.
Coast to coast. South to north.
We spoon & marry.
Give in marriage.
Party hardy. Baby carriage.
All the fuss! What can it mean?
Love in the Time of Covid 19.

There's only ONE question.
Who's to blame?
Eating bats? Is it that lame?
In the end it's all the same
'Neath black satin sheets

Love's corpse is lain.

SoulSurvivor
Catherine Jarvis
11/21/2020

a drop of rain upon a leaf
our lives flow slowly down

so amaphorous and brief
we make our way to ground

as we hang on to the end
of the blade we've found

we cannot on this place depend
so slip off without a sound

~~~

the blade of grass we clung to
hears the soft refrain

of the drip, it's music
it's leaf could not sustain

but it can't feel sorry
for the soil needs the rain.


soulsurvivor
(c) january 23, 2016

I wrote this on my birthdays
A while back. Thanks for reading.

The desert has the eyes of hawks
Soaring wild and free
Hills painted with russet tones
Were once under the sea

The ocean floor is full of life
Cactus coral reefs
Mesquite flow with the currents
There is no change of leaf

In autumn nor in winter
There is no hint of fall
But many snowbirds come to roost
You can barely count them all!

Sometimes there is a dusting
Of slight, faint hearted snow
The mountains have a powder
With sun it quickly goes
Springtime brings more color
The Palo Verde yellow floes
Wildflowers in riot
And the subtle cactus rose

But summer? Ah, the summer!
Before the monsoon rain
Though we'll never get that much of it
No. Never much again.

The summer! Ah, the summer.
The desert's but a drum
For the beating incantation
Of a punishing, bright sun!

Not many stay in Tucson
When that drum does beat
Not many can handle it
The brutal desert heat!

That's where you get your sea legs
Under the pressing burn
If you can handle August

You're at the point of no return!



Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc aka
SoulSurvivor

Catherine Jarvis
(c) 8/14/2016
Summers in Tucson or not for the faint-hearted. The house where we live has no air conditioning. We have a swamp box cooler. It's relatively cool when it's dry, but it's very muggy when it rains. This summer has been miserable. We've had a lot of wet weather. I'm sorry to complain, but I can't wait for the fall!

Part of the reason I haven't been on site, and I've been struggling, is due to this weather. The afternoon is time for sleeping. I've been sleeping quite a bit actually when I'm not looking after my folks.

Fall is right around the corner... Bring on (Rock)tober

She ìs the devil's kingdom
Of hellish demon spawn
Poison snakes of every kind
Slither 'cross her lawn

A wicked cold shape-shifting troll
Who takes on every guise
From an angel to a scorpion
Spreading filthy lies

A slimy fat and blood-dark leech
horrid as can be
To an old and grey‐green mold
Which cosied up to me

Now she has me in her sights
A red‐head vulture hungry
For a Christian heart to eat
They spawn in every country

Should she continue on the cursed course
She'll be terrified to find
That the trail will turn on her
And she will lose her mind.

Oh, God! Why can't you
just take me back Home?

Sawgrass roots in sand.
It moves like
the waves on
the sea

ii
Blue/grey and silver crystals
adorn the waves
They move like the dancers
in the harem
of Neptune.

iii
Winking at us
as we sit on the verge
of swaying grass
at high tide. The chill of autumn.

iv
The voice of blowing sand
singing low and of sylph sirens.

The waves clap.


SoulSurvivor
aka Write of Passage
aka Invisible inc

Catherine Ĵarvis

In colored glass the prisons
In windows on the wall
Saints look uo to heaven
Jesus looks so tall
Piercing eyes look into hearts
Convicting, calling... all.
Weeping through the window
Shifting up the wall
The sun approaches painted hills
Sun setting leaves a pall.

All the congregation
Modern in the light
They follow "the Savior"
Thinking they're "upright"

Position, proposition,
Privilege in their pores
Matriarchs & patriarchs
Always wanting more.

The Saviour dies a pauper
Assigned to pour red gusts
Put in a rich man's private tomb
To turn to maroon dust

Now, O, hail the Pastor!
His preaching & his price!
He gathers up the windblown tithes
To practice every vice....
He's the one they come to
To give His Glorious advice?

The Mesusa in Their membranes
Giving Themselves airs
They turn us all to colored glass
Snakes writhe in Their hair
But batten down the Bible
WE AREN'T THAT UNAWARE.

The Saints look up so pious
Jesus scans the pews
He sees ALL the "Pastors"
He sees me & you
He's looks down so sadly

As the light weeps through.

SoulSurvivor

Perfect oval face
Of subtle olive hue
Hands folded 'neath her cleavage
Amply embued
Why she's sweetly smiling
Nobody has a clue...

She sits out in the open
Under a sun so bright
With Italian architecture
Within the viewers sight
What does Mona Lisa do
Undercover of the night

That smile so enigmatic
Was she humming soft & low?
Eyes looking at us levely
A woman head to toe...
Or was "she" a MAN?
Sly Le-an-ar-do!
Now it's still a secret
Only God could know.

Only a brilliant consciousness
Could paint such a piece!
Yes! Only De Vince
With such subtleness!
The finest of all artists
He painted with finesse

The lovely curve of body
The beautiful brown tresses
That enigmatic smile

One can only guess....


Catherine Jarvis
01/30/2020

You're certain that there is no God?
Do you know EVERYTHING?
Perhaps God is one of the things you don't know!



Apologetics in three lines!

15-25
I searched for love in Looks
Handsome face and I was hooked
I was shallow, I got took.
How I cried! The tears that shook
these shoulders due to Looksist lies
These men wore masks just to disguise
Now I find they were no prize.

25-35
I went for intellect.
I was much more circumspect.
But i got what you'd expect.
Just because a person has a mind
doesn't mean they're not unkind.
In fact they're meaner, you may find.

35-45
I looked upon the Heart.
Bravery. One who'd take my part.
I looked for talent, love of Art.
But still, no love did this search bring.
My own heart n'er found its wings.
The Heart deceives above all things.

Now I look not for devices.
That bring only deceitful vices.
I'm not willing for those prices.
My man's not beautiful nor bold.
He is smart, but we're both old.
Upon him I am totally sold...

... I finally looked upon the SOUL.


SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
(C) 2/9/2016

Roll On By
[Lyrics by Catherine Jarvis]

Windows light up
Rattling sashes
Rain don't stop
It tears & lashes
Thunder sears and
Lightning crashes
Houses up in
Smoke & ashes...

~~~~~~

[Chorus]

Roll on by, storm,
Roll on by!
You won't make me
Weep & sigh!
You will pass me
By & by
I'll wake up
To God's blue sky...

No power of hell
Nor will of Man
No twist or turn
Or slight of hand
No storm or rain
Or lightning slam.
I'll overcome.
I'll understand.

~~~~~~~

The rain won't stop
Won't let me be
But it can't melt
The heart in me!
If you knew
You would agree
I'm an eagle
Don't you see!
I'll rise above
I will not flee
I have got the victory!

[Chorus]

I will watch
& I will wait
Soon the tempest
Will abate
Whether it be
Soon or late
I'll stand in LOVE!
I will not hate!
I will enter
Heaven's gate
To be with Jesus
Is my fate...

I will live with
GOD SO GREAT!


SøułSurvivør aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
Catherine Jarvis
(C) 12/14/2019

The horizontal hurricane
Is not rain north to south
Not a squall which ends before
It takes your fleshly house

NO.

it's a flame 🔥 of water💧
It's a fire that yearns
No rain could ever quench because
It's a bush that burns.

YES.

Weathering the flailing storm
A flatline on a screen
Taƙes courage that no human
Has ever truly seen.

NO.

This storm blows the tempest flat!
Equal to the earth!
The wind sends raindrops east to west
To hug us with their worth

YES!

Jesus faced that fury
The grapes of wrath! He must!
He took on the fires of hell
Which were reserved for US!

YES!

GOD SO LOVED THE WORLD
THAT HE SENT HIS ONLY SON
THAT HE WOULD DIE INSTEAD OF US
SO NOW THE VICTORY'S WON!



SøułSurvivør aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
Catherine Jarvis
April 2025

A green, unseasoned ox
Was put unto the plow
A yoke was placed upon it
To work the master's rows
It balked at the job given
For it did not know how.

The master saw it's plight
He knew it had to learn
So he brought a great and seasoned ox
And a double yoke was worn
They both pulled a wagon
Filled from stem to stern.

The master tapped them with the reins
They both began to pull
The new and yet unknowing ox
Got it in its skull
To go a path that was unsafe
It's wits were yet quite dull.

So it balked again and cried
To go the other way
But the great and seasoned ox
Stood there in the fray
He allowed the younger ox
To buck and buck all day.

So finally the younger ox
Was tired, began to wheeze
It knew it was defeated
It's pride was finally seized
It bowed down in humility
And fell onto its knees.

The ox cried bitterly
In its enormous shame
The other ox was greatly moved
For its weeping out HIS NAME
He nuzzled it & stroked it
For HE was once the same.

The master, too, came off his seat
And succored the poor beast
He gave it food and water
Held it to his breast
The greater ox lay down with it
So that it could rest.

The young ox finally rallied
Was ready for the fight
Of pulling the great burden...
... but found that it was light!
For the greater ox was pulling, too
He stout and he forthright!

The master smiled proudly
The young ox would reach the goal...

And what WAS this great burden?

Billions of HUMAN SOULS...


SoulSurvivor
(C)1/28/2017


*"Come to me, all you who are weary
and burdened, and I will give you rest.
Take my yoke upon you and learn from
me, for I am gentle and humble in heart,
and you will find rest for your souls.
For my yoke is easy,
and my burden is light."
Matthew 11:28-30 NIV
The Bible gives us great analogies to our walk with the Lord. This particular metaphor, I believe, is extremely apt. In biblical times when there was a great burden to be hauled, the Master of the cart would yoke an unseasoned ox with one who had carried the cart for many years. The younger learned from the older. And the burden what's much lighter for both oxen...

I haven't been around much due to my personal burden. I was also balking at the yoke I was carrying. But Jesus is so gentle and kind. He helped me through it.

Thank you to all who read me! I'm going to be reading myself today...

♡ I £♡¥€ YOU ALL

Hey! Ladies & gentlemen!
All you girls and boys!
Put away TV remotes!
You have some NEW TOYS!

We have a job that's just for YOU!
It's easy! You can TRY!
WE WANT A PERSON IN THE GRAVE...
Just hear our slanderous LIES.

You know that woman over there?
She don't do as she should
She's had a hundred boyfriends
What's more she beats her kids!

You know that guy downstairs from you?
Investigation's goin' on
Law Enforcement knows about it
MOLESTING KIDS IS WRONG!

NO! DO NOT CONFRONT THEM!
WE have a way to delve
Heaven forbid they know you KNOW
So they DEFEND THEMSELVES!

No. We'll do it THIS way...
We'll do it real SLY
Don't worry bout a thing my friends
Don't matter how they CRY...

Just go ahead and spread the WORD!
Tell everyone! Their friends!
I'll teach you some OTHER TRICKS
To help make their life END.

If we do things all just right
Use my sadistic guide
You'll see that we can cleanse our world

BY THEIR SUICIDE.

Don't worry. It'll be easy.
It's quite simple to do
You will find that you won't mind...

BE GRATEFUL IT'S NOT YOU.



SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc aka
Catherine Jarvis
(C) 3/13/2017


The creation of madness always begins
With SLANDER. Imagine. All of a sudden
"Everyone" is against you! You can't figure out WHY. BECAUSE YOU'RE COMPLETELY INNOCENT

wisdom
doesn't
wade
in
strange
waters


[6W]
SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
Catherine Jarvis
(C) 11/29/2015


A note to me:
Don't try to talk about things
you don't understand

expectations 2X10 words
-
expect nothing to go as planned
except for the changes

expect changes in your plans
and you'll never be disappointed

[10W X 2]
SoulSurvivor
(C) 3/25/2016

of good and evil

-----------/------@

once there grew a garden
of great and mighty trees
flowers of great beauty
but also ugly weeds

their petals never wilted
the green leaves never turned
winter never came there
fire never burned

children came to play
to climb the highest boughs
to pluck as many flowers
as their small hands would allow

some trees had lovely fruits
figs to please the eye
ornamental oranges
the apples of a lie

though they held great beauty
had colors to alure
they held worms and maggots
and tasted of manure

innocent of this
the children picked this fruit
and were poisoned by their evil
for evil was their root

in lands of yellow wheat
those young folk became tares
but they didn't know it
and so did not despair

and so they played and frolicked
so this story goes
and good appeared as ragweed

and evil as a

ROSE


So­ulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
(C) 5/12/2015


I often refer to hypocrisy
in some Christian people
as the fruit of the
ornamental orange

10W

@#@#@#@#@#@#@

white pieces of lace
falling from the
Ice Queen's sleeve.

@#@#@#@#@#@#@


SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
Catherine Jarvis '25

Father God,
I come before you to your Sovereign throne your daughter. I have sinned against you. I am sometimes a rank depraved person. You Are Holy and I am not. You Are Holy your name is Holy. Jesus is as your son holy. The Holy Spirit reside to me that I have not been listening to him. May your name be proclaimed as holy throughout the Universe! May your name be magnified and set apart for reverence! Please forgive me from my transgressions and iniquities. Jehovah Niss(, Jehovah Rapha,
Jehovah Shalom, Jehovah Gira... Names of Jehovah

Your kingdom come. Jesus's name be spread abroad to the ends of the Earth and Universe! May your kingdom be established on this entire planet! May your Reign be complete.

I thank you. For food and clothing. A safe place to stay. Help in my handicap condition. The friendly people who help me here. My family. The fact that I have my mother alive. My sister and brother and Martin Monroe. Thank you for my friends. Thank you foŕ Alyssa. May she contact me again. Thank you for my BFF and Patrick. Thank you for my persecution. Thank you for this beautiful creation and everything that's good. Common Grace. Thank you for the Salvation that you have seen fit to bestow on me. I can't thank you enough for that! Thank you for my extended family. Thank you for the truth you have seen fit to teach me! Thank you for my talents and abilities. My intelligence. My understanding. What the Holy Spirit has revealed to me! Thank you for the many pastors who I have listened to and have gotten truth from. Thank you for the church. Thank you for the use of my upper body. Thank you for my healing.

Please forgive me for every thought word action and inaction that is not worthy of a child of God and Christ.

Teach me to forgive and discontinue mulling over wrongs and the people who perpetrated  them.

Let there be hedges of protection around me and the people I pray for, except for those who must be disciplined. Please forgive us all!

For Your Kingdom must come! Your Power, your Glory!

AMEN

WRITTEN BY THE HOLY SPIRIT OF GOD!

Tears of a rose
Will soak and stain
They're from her heart
They're stored up rain

They come from heaven
To flow down thorns
They sing in screams
From her lips torn

They can be acid
To burn the bloom
They can be crystal
Reflecting moons

The rose will open
In dead of night
The tears from petals
Refract the light

They cascade down
Drop from the leaves
For her soul
She sits and grieves

For her soul
The drops fall down
They feed her roots
Under the ground

They bring her back
The legend goes
There's healing in

Tears of a rose


Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc aka
SøułSurvivør
(C) 10/3/2017


I was talking to a friend back in '16. Praying with her. She just endured a tremendous life setback. Said she couldn't stop crying. This metaphor came to my mind. This poem is for my dear friend. It is my sincerest hope that it brings healing.

Hey! Ladies & gentlemen!
All you girls and boys!
Put away TV remotes!
You have some NEW TOYS!

We have a job that's
just for YOU!
It's easy! You can TRY!
WE WANT A PERSON
IN THE GRAVE...
Just hear our slanderous LIES.

You know that woman over there?
She don't do as she should
She's had a hundred boyfriends
What's more she beats her kids!

You know that guy
downstairs from you?
Investigation's goin' on
Law Enforcement
knows about it
MOLESTING KIDS IS WRONG!

NO! DO NOT CONFRONT THEM!
WE have a way to delve
Heaven forbid they
know you KNOW
So they DEFEND THEMSELVES!

No. We'll do it THIS way...
We'll do it real SLY
Don't worry bout
a thing my friends
Do not question why...

Just go ahead and
spread the WORD!
Tell everyone! Their friends!
I'll teach you some other tricks
To help make their life END.

If we do things all just right
Use my sadistic guide
You'll see that we can
cleanse our world
By their SUICIDE.

Don't worry. It'll be easy.
It's quite simple to do
You will find that
you won't mind...

BE GRATEFUL IT'S NOT YOU.


SoulSurvivor
aka Write of Passage
(C) 3/13/2017


The creation of madness always begins
With SLANDER. Imagine. All of a sudden
"Everyone" is against you! You can't figure out WHY. BECAUSE YOU'RE COMPLETELY INNOCENT