52 Weeks: Whitman

The spotted hawk swoops by and accuses me, he complains of my gab and my loitering.

I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable,
I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.

The last scud of day holds back for me,
It flings my likeness after the rest and true as any on the shadow’d wilds,
It coaxes me to the vapor and the dusk.

I depart as air, I shake my white locks at the runaway sun,
I effuse my flesh in eddies, and drift it in lacy jags.

I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love,
If you want me again look for me under your boot-soles.

You will hardly know who I am or what I mean,
But I shall be good health to you nevertheless,
And filter and fibre your blood.

Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged,
Missing me one place search another,
I stop somewhere waiting for you.

52 Weeks: Mullein**

The Red-Tailed hawk swoops by and catches just a glimpse, he tilts his head Dionysian style mouth slightly agape.

I too am a wild thing, I too am untethered,
And I sound animalistic in the dining halls of the tamed.

The final missile thud holds me in a sweet caress,
My likeness rockets earthward … tried and true and tired and truer,
I am coaxed into existence once again.

I maintain my aetheric ties as I know this is the roadmap back to you,
It’s nice to be enmeshed in the living once again even though they drain,
To drain is to live, one gives eternity to be mortal - it’s the only thing that ever made sense.

I won’t depart, I dig in my heels,
And I turn my back on the organized.

I am of the earth because I understand my antecedents … my mother’s mother’s mother …
And because of this knowledge of ante’s I can set prece’s, hopefully precisely.

I hardly know who I am or what I mean (on a good day),
But I am good for you none the less,
As our tastes and sounds and smells and touches intermingle.

And always I wait patiently,
for me for you,
for us.

Beautiful thing about adversity
                   is that you learn about resilience

There was a big boom once

Population dynamics are intrin-
sic functions of gumption
and big booms echo in eternity.

I look at the industrial revolution
through infrared filters
to parameterize the haze of our lives using

a kaleidoscope landmarking
technique andor technology
where the function of plutocracy

(and it is taking shape)

while it resonates on post-reformations
and pre-modernisms
How do you like them schizms?

Living the religion of
capital ~ ism
and paying homage on prayer mats of

blood ~ sweat ~ and 1, 2 many beers
through our blue collar dollars and
masonry jars and crossroads guitars

(and between the bars)

of our own creation.
Now moving toward remediation
and un-plebiation.

I cried vermouth and reconciliation while
they expunged truth and trylobytes.
The inevitability always bubbles up.

And in the trailer park of our lord: 2017
Ricky and Julian and Bubbles
pay homage to a great poet lost: Mr. Lahey.

(within the mystery of our own creation)

Thus we toast to: The Theatre of Life

No man is an island but as an aggregate, if we can remember who we are, we can become even more solid than a rock.

Maybe as an aggregate, we can become the rock we've always been looking for.

Rhythms of Al Gore
Put us to sleep
So we can remember
Fortunately, Clinton was a jazz
Man

Written outside an OXXO*

I took a bite out of a Milky Way last night.

If you're playing god then you have to delve into such tomfoolery...checked Google news...checked NASA websites. No news is good news!

No headlines are good headlines, so I finished it. Tossed the wrapper, was still buzzing from the corn syrup...so I went back in and grabbed a Snickers...the glycemic index is a little different on this one...wonder what Google news will say about this?

I realized today
Why I've been
So ******* angry

It took me quite
Some time to get here
Cause I was attempting to
Think it through

The thinking through process
Was exhausting
Every time I thought I was there
I realized I had barely begun

My reward for attempting the journey
Was a growing anger
Alive and festering
And a feeling in my heart

Rather than focus on rationality
I began to sit with the feeling
While trying not to take it out
On myself or
Lashing out on those around me
(especially my loved ones)

Trying was trying and
Sometimes it worked
And sometimes did not

While I sat in between
Waiting and wondering if
Maybe the answers could be
Found elsewhere.
The more I felt into this
In those quiet, reflective spaces
The more I was able to
Reorganize my emotions
Which brought me to the conclusion
That my source of anger
Was a feeling.

It did not take me long
Sitting within this
When I began to shift
Into the realization that
This needed to be
Unpacked:

My emotions of anger
Were rooted in the feelings of hurt

I tried to point my finger at a more direct
Source of this pain and
Many people came up
But I could see they were coming from
A place of hurt too
And our hurts were perpetrated on each
Other in a cyclic fashion

Now I was on a roll,
Unpacking the hurt continued to flow
Now I understood that
My feeling and the hurt
Are the product of cycles
That do not serve me

I was starting to embody
This understanding:

These cycles are rooted in
Unhealthy dynamics
Installed and instilled
Within a hierarchy
Infused and embedded
Within the power structures
Of today but
Moreso the power structures of yesterday

This was my call to action

Flowing further
Led me to the knowing that
To assist with restructuring
These dynamics might be the greatest gift
I could give to those I love

Within this knowing, I decided
An army of one
Would not do

So I got to work on building an army of two

I’m a logician
A tic-tac-tician
Accountable to
Me

Bringing it day andor
Night
It’s time to get
Into My groove

Cause ... caustic ... causality
Tom waits for no one.

'Tis
A roadmap

Each word, neigh each letter
Mindfully

Placed
And carefully tended

Cause this is how
Wild things grow

Awaiting my orders to stand down
I roll myself another roll-your-own
Mullein style ~ Amber whisps
Shared with the wind and soil

My orders never come
So the decision is made for me
Standing orders are ******* by physical limits
I fall asleep on my feet

I stand down
By sleeping while I stand

Tough job
This is zombie work
Why do we let the vampires
Drink our blood
Just like the kids in
Art school said they would

i got soul but I'm not a soldier

Arooooooooooooo

The wolf howls

The hawk circles

The elephant trumpets

The badger … lurches

The turkey … vultures

The Ram …

The Bull …

And the eagle and condor live happily ever after

And always built on the framework … on the architecture of the dream … thanks Raven …

Always and in all ways love You

Inside the drainage basin
Bounding my soul
Fluid dynamics
Condense

Phases of water
Gather in the
Mountain towers

Over time
Gravity plus precipitation
Converts
Into snow pack

Come spring
That snow pack
Braids it's way down the mountain
Co-mingling with groundwater
Bubbling up in springs
Gathering momentum
In mountain streams

A constant conversion from
Potential to kinematic
Energy

Streams make their
Way into prairie rivers
Meandering along
Through riparian pockets
Of biodiversity

Reaching a levee
Then breaching

Local, national, and international boundaries
Are no match

As my soul
Finds it's way to base level
In the ocean of your love

as the foghorn blows for the third time
i ask the question once again …
where lies the hands of power
and bringing consciousness back into my material being
i find two hands that look very much
like my own

nomind, i don’t mind

i thought i was a thinker
but Rodin proved me wrong
he bronzed the thinker

after pondering on that
while observing the foot traffic
at the gallery for a long moment …

i wondered:
as an observer of the observers
am i hunter or prey?

It was a sweetgrass serenade
singing up serotonin
through the cavalcades
and ramparts
that I had been using to
barricade my heart

It was a sweetgrass serenade
and when I let those sweet words slip
off my tongue
just like syncopated honey
into the three-stranded braid
of me and you and Creation
taking us into those outer places
where we can occupy other spaces

It was a sweetgrass serenade
and on our journey to the moon
is where I wonder who
is following us cause
on our way back
I could feel the exodus
of my past,
you know
the part that
no longer serves.

And in its place...

It was a sweetgrass serenade
singing up serotonin
filling up that empty pocket
with a force of positivity.

Looks like We found a lifeway
time to let it shine and
step into deep play

Adapted from pg. 571 of Alcoholics Anonymous, 4th Edition

The Black Swan Sanctuary will become a unique and highly successful approach to that age-old public health and social problem, following the crowd... In emphasizing Black Swanism as an integral component of the human genome, the social stigma associated with this condition will be blotted out... "Historians may one day recognize (BSS) to have been a great venture in social pioneering which forged a new instrument for social action; a new therapy based on the kinship  of common suffering; on having a vast potential for the myriad of ills of (hu)mankind."

"Baby, baby why can't you sit still?
Who killed that bird out on you window sill?
Are you the reason that he broke his back?
Did I see you laugh about that?
If I come on like a dream?
Would you let me show you what I mean?
If you let me come on inside?
Will you let it glide?

Can I have some remedy?
Remedy for me please.
Cause if I had some remedy
I'd take enough to please me.

Baby, baby why did you dye your hair?
Why you always keeping with your mother's dare?
Baby why's who's who, who know you too?
Did the other children scold on you?
If I come on like a dream?
Would you let me show you what I mean?
If you let me come on inside?
Will you let it slide?"

Black Crowes

Working your way out of ionic ******* can be
seriously interesting however, it can also be
lugubrious.

I was standing in the aisle at Bulk Barn.
low on neutrinos, I was looking to stock up
I like to sprinkle them on my cereal in the morning

I then made my way down the anti-photon aisle
if you like your coffee black and not sweet, as I do
this is almost as good as other alternatives

I did realize that
my electron supply was fine
but thought I'd get some anyway
just for the ion-y

I don't understand the economics of this transaction
but it is apparent the invisible hand does

When the clerk looked in my basket
I was waved through

I was standing in the aisle at Bulk Barn
I was low on neutrinos and looking to stock up
I like to sprinkle them on my cereal in the morning

I made my way down the aisle and found the anti-photons
If you like your coffee black and not sweet
Then this is almost as good as other alternatives

My electron supply was fine
But I thought I'd get some anyway
Just for the ion-y

I don't understand the economics but I guess
The invisible hand does
When the clerk looked in my basket
She just waved me through

A weav . ing
An intermingling
of signatures
Some faint
Certainly resonant

You look at me like I'm weak
I am
Weakness is bending
Not breaking
It's how I show my strength

You look at me like I'm dark
I am
Darkness is light
Not reflecting
It's how I show my breadth

You look at me like I'm lost
I am
So far from shore yet
Not drowning
It’s how I show my depth

You look at me like I'm ill
I am
Illness is health
Not refracting

And when I admit this, it’s to my advantage

For Michael, a warrior and an inspiration*

You look at me like I'm weak
I am
Weakness is bending
Not breaking
It's how I show my strength

You look at me like I'm dark
I am
Darkness is brightness
Not reflecting
It's how I show I'm light

You look at me like I'm ill
I am
Illness is health
Not refracting
I call it the illness advantage

Connotations and elucidations
We need language that recreates nations

If you use changency on a regular basis then you might be a changent but then you're defaulting to a noun based thought process and we live in a fluid, living universe. Nothing in the universe is unchanging thus locking our minds down with noun based systems of thinking cannot do our Selves or our Universe justice...if you believe that you have a life sentence of just ~100 years and then you're gone, then you're not a responsible human being...or you are being lied to and tricked into thinking that we're barely human...being is a verb...we are in process...in flow...we are the dragon's that we've been waiting for. We are the guardian's of wealth and we are the guardian's of prince's and princess's....because we are the prince's and princess's.

If you think I'm full of **** that's fine. You've been tricked. Your reward for such treachery, your reward for allowing yourself to be deceived....another ~100 year life sentence.

You'll deal with it eventually because you'll be back again and again and again until you figure out how to swim out of Hades and get back onto an eternal path not as a Changent but found within the fluidity of changency.

You don't go to Wall Street or Bay Street or any of those 'important' streets to understand currency...you borrow Turtle Island technology in the form of a canoe (don't forget to pay your royalties)...you get off the land and onto the river and flow....this is currency...this is flow. Buddha sat on the edge of the river studying flow and found great truths...Buddha never had access to Turtle Island technology. You can't study currency without getting into flow physically...the mind will only take you so far. A mind has barriers, a mind can be deceived, that deception can lead to false dichotomies such as the left brain~right brain, us versus them, US vs the People...let's unite the states. Flow into the nondual truths that resonate through the subtle frequencies of those attuned... Let's stop at Acme Explosives on the way home from 'work' along the ****** Tune paths found in our minds and load the Hoover Dams built in our heads by the Fortune 500 who want us to think that we're dead (or dying) ...  load the dam full of explosive ... then let Wylie and Bugs do their thing. A levee is impermanent...and the levee is about to break...it nears the time for the deal to go down. Hereditary leadership could make a coup but this doesn't honour flow. Those power mongers, who, using their ill-gotten bellows to stoke the flames of fear have worked their way into their own slavery. When We, the living people, realize that we're the plantation owners and we are the ones that can and need to start pushing the signals back into the marketplace...this is the people's market. A just internet decentralizes the economy...it just is...Justice. Destabilizing using the ebbs and flows...using whimsy...this is Game Theory writ large. Let's turn the Prisoner's Dilemma on it's head, Jed...i

The idiom...pushing on a string is supposed to connote the impossibility of sending signals back up the ladder. Hahaha. That is exactly what can and in the new economy will be done. You can pull strings but you can also push strings. I know this, I understand this because of an idea I've been meditating on for several years. It's an idea the Tlingit and Haida chiefs used to honour their lost loved ones. It's called a Potlach Ceremony. It's also called Indian Giving or flows into negative connotations that are attached to indian giver, let's take the power back...keep pushing...it's almost time

My essay, Changency, is a meme
This meme has been growing inside of me
I've been a carrier
Many of us have been

I'm not a benevolent character though
I've been purposely placing the memetic material on blankets
And leaving the blankets in local trading posts
I call these 'trading posts' bookstores, universities, colleges, schools...coffee shops, pubs, restaurants, etcetera

The beautiful thing is that these memes aren't really on blankets
The memes are encoded on the backs of knowledge, truth, and authenticity
They come from a place of pain
Evolution can be painful (but does it have to be?)

Three dimensions are easy to comprehend
Four, sure just add time
What about spacetime?
And a fifth dimension...I don't really know what that means...but some do and they're watching, listening, waiting, and loving us

I went down to the crossroads. It was time for my life to start but I was dealing with a sticky throttle. I couldn't find my voice, I couldn't find momentum. When life got moving, then everything was coming in fits and starts. When I wasn't completely stuck in the mud I risked running myself over because I went from no traction to full traction in a fraction ... everything came so fast and furious.

So I sat there at the crossroads and there was the devil, waiting … he was waiting to see what I had to offer. When he saw that I couldn't or wouldn't offer the things that he wanted he stayed away. The devil had a certain amount of integrity, he was of the old ways.

As a stubborn individual, I decided not to leave. I felt the crossroads still had answers to offer up. Soon another entity came, it was god. God wanted to make a deal with me. I should have felt relieved, here was Mr. Omniscience himself. All he wanted in return was my eternal soul, he wanted me to live a god life so that I could go to heaven. When I thought about it, I decided that this deal was ******* than what the devil had to offer. At least I could eventually swim out of hell and give it another whirl. God didn't offer much hope for a second chance. He was willing to sacrifice his son so that I would have eternal peace. **** this dude. He should be tried for crimes against humanity at the most preposterous and for infanticide at the most basic levels.

But maybe this story was best told as a trinity. Maybe Jesus walked this Earth so that he could sacrifice Himself. He knew the choices that were offered on this planet. The devil you know versus an eternal rest. Of the many preposterous things that we could do in worship maybe worshipping cows made the most sense. Maybe jesus took some bones of his father and came back to earth so that he could resolve this injustice. Maybe Jesus was ******* story overlaid on ******* story or maybe there was truth buried somewhere deep in our collective. Maybe it wasn't jesus that stole some of his father's bones but maybe it was eve who stole some of her father's bones and she sacrificed herself so that we could wake up out of dreamtime. So that she could take a bite out of the apple of knowledge and so that she could wake us all up to the beautiful things that lie under her feet.

If I am to ever worship anything in this world then it would be eve.

Meanwhile, back at the crossroads.

Zeus or Allah or Yaweh or Krishna or whatever you want to call Him had all the best intentions. I was one of his children, he told me. If I would repent at this crossroads in my life then I would be able to live alongside all my brother's and sister's in a place that defied all physical laws (that I'm aware of) for eternity. So, God was telling me that I should not live in this life ... but instead, live in the next one. This was just a practice life! He wanted me defy the laws, the architecture that had been laid down for us … he wanted me to defy the Code so that we can go get 'stuck' in dreamtime for eternity. And that was it, I saw where the integrity was emanating from. It wasn't from this pseudo-god or from dreamtime or from any other unhealthy alternatives. The answer was the crossroads itself. The answer was under our feet. Under my feet, the whole time. This planet, as an expression of the stars, has all the answers that we need at this time. We need to relish these crossroads that we come to in our life and own it. Don't take ownership for what's under your feet, take ownership for everything from soul to crown ~ nothing more, nothing less

I was playing a game with my kids the other day

I asked:
What do you use to see?
She said 'your eyes'
He said 'your brain'
Both right
Next I asked what do you use to hear?
She said 'your ears'
He said 'your brain'
Both right, again

The wisdom of children!

The game ended there but it got me thinking about what we use to feel
The most straight forward answer is our skin
Your brain is what processes the sense of touch so that has to be included
What about your heart?
Where does it fit into the big scheme of things?
Isn't the heart the space where we process feelings?

I have to loosely define things and often turn them upside down
ruminate
reorder my worldview to make it copacetic
I'm pretty sure that I often walk in two worlds
If my mind is simply locked in the western paradigm then people look at me like I'm bizarre
I'm not joking when I say they've wanted to lock me up because of my views
When I allow my mind to get locked into this western paradigm,
I sometimes even feel like I belong in lockup.

That's even worse than being held against your will
You're being held because you've lost your will

So I play with definitions to better suit my needs

When you do this however, there is a risk
Last summer I unlocked a spectre as I drank deeply and greedily from Crypt Lake

Crypt Lake is a real place on this planet
How did it get it's name (you might ask)?
According to the Blackfoot, placenames aren't given,
they come from place

Let's contextualize ~ this is all part of the journey
The physical leads to the spiritual and vice versa
To get to Crypt Lake you have to enter Waterton-Glacier International Peace Park
Found in the southwest corner of Alberta and the northwest corner of Montana
Once through the gates you have to catch a boat at a certain time
You have to be in the physical plane of existence at this point otherwise you're not getting on that boat
Once you get to the trailhead, then you can start to drift

That's what I did
As I walked, I let the stories come into me
I let them flow through me
They were sitting there waiting to be told
A spruce, arm in arm, with a pine
Hawks circling overhead
An ever present alertness for our bear brethren
Always open to the wildflowers
Indian paintbrush (I have red hair could I be considered an indian paintbrush?)
Pollinators flitting about
Oh, the water

Listen to the stories the water told:
First we come to Hell Roaring Falls
Next Twin Falls
Next Burnt Rock Falls
And to reach the Crypt, we have to pass through a mountain tunnel
Opening up to Crypt Falls
and finally Crypt Lake

This is a regular heroes journey if you allow it to be
I was in that place in my mind where I allowed it to unfold as it may

This is a place that's also known as the Crown of the Continent
Not far away is Chief Mountain, Turtle Mountain, and Crowsnest Mountain
Also Writing-On-Stone and the Milk River and Sweetgrass
These are holy names, this is a holy land

What I saw at Crypt Falls was the backbone of the continent
I saw the backbone of Turtle Island

I was floored
I had been on a continent wide spirit quest a few years previously
There was talk that the Deed for Turtle Island was coming due
And maybe it would be produced at one of these gatherings
We all waited but nobody produced it

I ruminated on that idea for a few years
I'm pretty sure that the Deed was there
Those who held it, just didn't realize

I learned something at the Crypt
I wanted answers and I made an assumption
I assumed that the water held the answers
So I drank deeply, even greedily from the Crypt

Right there in the international peace park, on the crown of the continent
With the Old Chief and the Crowsnest not far away
Writing-On-Stone just a sashay away
What about writing in calcium?
If I were the earth, I would encode important information in something
Transmutable

Not blood.
Bones

What I learned up there on the mountain as I gulped down knowledge from the Crypt was that the deed is written into the bones of the land and into the bones of those borne of that land

This is indigenous knowledge

It's in the water, the water is the medium for the message
The bones are the stock
But just like a double helix
A genetic sequence is an expression of time and place
On a certain spacetime continuum this innocuous looking structure
(take a look in the mirror)
Has all the necessary answers

A hundred and fifty years after Darwin's dangerous idea

The flaws are showing

If you look closely

You can see the storyteller's gathering

Flow through,
trickle down

Bubble up ~
keep your head up.

Don't think,
don't blink

Just got to tighten those purse strings
and see what that brings

as usurious hedging
grows into a bigger thing.

Are we hitting the Wall
while Street fighting Bears?

Are we wrestling the Bull
while waiting for a Soprano to sing?

Ain't no one ringing that bell
as far as I can tell.

So I am knowing, seeing, raising
IOU's

and paying it forward into
a restructured karmic debt

Been seeking that good kinda din
where I can sit and think again
while sipping my dragonfly gin
and letting that distilled infusion
be my medicine
and something not necessarily harmful
to the spirit within

I am seeking that good kinda din
where I can sit and think
a remembering why kinda place
so I rode my old bike down
down to my favourite river fork
to offer up gifts
to the Old Man and St Mary
I was groovin' with
that sweet and heady inshallah vibe

Just groovin' with those
sweet and hearty Inshala vibes
making me feel the opposite of heavy
when a higher self popped up
to remind, treasures buried become
weathered and harried
so I sat down, slipped my shoes and socks off
breathed in deep and got ready

And now I am finding that good kinda din
where the consciousness be growing again
the kind, you know, where its kinda
like a begin again

From the Songs of the Arcturians

In an Octopuses Garden

On the edge of the Luna Sea

Turquoise and aquamarine hues

Chasing away the blues

Synesthesia is complete

The monkey goes cheep, cheep, cheep

English literature
A gateway drug
To Divine Comedies
And Tradegies
Of the Commons
Always leading
To poetry
For the succinct
Prescient
Indirection
With discretion

Remove the mask
Strip to essentials
Remove the ballasts

A crossroads
An intersection divine
Don't rue the darkness on a boulevard of light

Lucifer's here
Will the deal go down?
Or are you hedging on up?

Flying in on the back of truth
As an agent of change
Write your own contract

Be just and align
Oblige yourself with Self
'Be like water my friend' (Bruce Lee)

Fill that vessel up
To overflowing
A soul is pedestrian

An overflowing soul leads to changency
An over~soul (Emerson)
Define your cosmology

Uninitiate is a good initiation
You have to strip your house down
To ensure true pitch

Attuning for those forks
A hollow reed
For a river of truth

Organically evolving
Intermingling
With deviants
Parasitically
Just in caste systems
Capitalizing
On the leverage
Of love
Homogenizing
Allowing the parasite
A taste of something
They don’t recognize:
Truth & Beauty
Allowing those
Elements inside
Tormentee bleeding for tormentor
And eventually both parties change
The parasite spurs the host toward strengthened
Resolve
And Love is no longer a foreign language
To those most in need

Innoculate them with kindness

Can you live through the delusion
                                        thus using your illusion?

Aquamarines
Hues unseen

Velvets and
Mercury retrograde

Projecting lines
Of constant course

Meanders and oxbows
Hinting at future and past

Dancing to songs
Unheard

An effigy for love
Unseen

A garden of tears
Unwrapping the present

Pistil and stamen
Awaiting

Pollinating
Ones and zeros

Bifurcating from binary to analog
Or amalgamating the two

Becoming one
Reprogramming matrices

With personal
Trinities

Everything looks neo
Through this lens

My purple iris contends
U2?

Something in her eyes
Took 1000 years to get here

Something in her heart
Something in her heart

It's in you to give