there is no hope yet
from the destroyer of worlds -
alzheimers

i am not orbit
i am wildman

the human body
and mind is reflex unless
told other by you

Garl april, 25, 19

The time of his death was
unknown of course

Garl walked the perimeter sticks
wooden spear at the ready

Garl saw more than he thought
therefore the world of the cave walls

His dreams were to amazing
images of other worlds
so beautiful so strange

All were their dreams at night
but the samans put them on the walls

An act of great courage  due respect

In his dreams Garl saw himself
on the walls   at first with fear
later with desire

The samans were also hunters

The hunt was a strong image to have

Garl was out with the hunters
he saw the hunt    he saw his
image on the cave walls

He went forward to the mammoth

He is now seen on the cave wall
   by thousands

The time of his death is unknown
of course

"A Scene"

A Man    Long have I sought answers
                Yet now, seeing her, I stand mute.
                What glories, what honors shall be mine
                When I ask of the Goddess Future
                And She tells me what lies ahead.
Goddess
Future    Ask of me what you will
                It is mine to answer plainly.
Man       Future, what shall be my greatest glory
               In times to come?
Fut         Happiness is the greatest treasure
              And is sought by all
               Through many and various means.
               Happiness may be a part of all futures.
Man         Yes, 'tis true
                Happiness is a worthy crown.
                How shall I find my happiness?
                Through wealth, fame, power?
                If this glory is to be mine
                From whence shall it come?
Fut         From love. True happiness
                Comes only through love.
                Not love of money
                Or of clattering applause
                Nor love of deeds greatly done
                Or wars bravely fought
                But simple love.
                To love oneself
                Freely, and daily, and imperfectly
                As in all the affairs of man
                This brings the greatest of all treasures
                Happiness.
Man         Love? Love??
                My greatest glory in all my days
                Shall come through love?!
                By the power that has put us here
                In this darksome void of emptiness
                You are bound to answer all
                And answer plain!
                Yet you stand before me
                Spouting riddles and ancient stories
                Told to fresh weaned children.
                Tell me! Tell me true! Tell me plain!!
                Where and how and when
                Shall I find happiness!!?
Fut         I tell you true and I tell you plain
                As I have always done
                And never were these words hidden
                From anyone's heart.
                They have been lying amongst your feet
                Crowding you and tripping you
                As you travel your daily lives.
                Yet you kick them aside
                Daring not to look down
                Through fear of being devoured
                By life's pains while caring
                Or lest some vain comfort of man
                Pass you by.
                Truly I say
                The ones who find happiness
                Are those open to change.
                For all mankind yearns
                For the missing part
                And accepts what is before them
                To fill the emptiness.
                But only those who recognize
                The ill-fitting lies of
                Worldly miss-pleasures
                And frail human vanities
                Only they are free to continue the search
                And eventually gain, happiness.
Man         Words, hollow words.
                Long have I lived.
                Many are my tales
                Of wearisome toil and effort
                And again all that is found
                Are simple words.
                You, Future
                Who's power it is to know
                The fates of all men
                Answer me with uncertainties.
                Go, go back to where you came from
                Leave me alone.
                I shall rest,
                And tend to my pains and sorrows.
Fut         NO!! There are no uncertainties
                Or riddles in my speech.
                Only to those who love themselves
                And others
                Is given the boon of happiness.
                You, who's ears are small
                And filled with worldly echoes
                Distorting all,
                You stand before a Goddess
                And dismiss Her words
                Rather than admit your error.
                And yet,
                It is the honor and privilege
                Of all free willed man to do so.
                Therefore I shall be silent,
                And leave you,
                At your own bidding.

"Wish I Could Go There"


Siren screaming warning
fading away     i'm happy
to be alive but the thorns
hurt sometimes like fire ants
in Florida with Palmetto bugs
just really big cockroaches in
Hawaii they are pets and even bigger
like the native gals be gentle baby
doll one eighty five going up
and up to the stars the dreams
of children touch god come from god
are god triune stabbing this that is
in the **** to cause movement
is conscious something or other
soft green leaves with sharp edges
flying liquid rock globs on the mountain
black black black ocean deep
wish i could go there in my mind
but for real they play for money
and we pay and pay and pay and wonder
who's the boss believe it or not
no one is is to scary for some
to accept and i'm writing expository but
where are the images well i'm on my way
to find out hope i get there i know
i'm going to enjoy the journey
free i i i i i

all food costs money my
   poetry is free   you betcha

himalayan mountain
path of stone -
new flower

"There Is"

there is no difference
       between
receiver and giver
giver and receiver

the future me
looks backwards
and sees no one
but dreams
the future me
looks forward
and sees no thing
but emptiness

mind a willingness
with experience the soul
sound of a poem

the emperor sits
at a small blond table to
eat his fish and sauce

words words words
   heard them all my life

just reflections in my mind
   a distortion of time

life of my creation
   here i am now

walking forward slowly
   into a future dark

to change this time i can not
   think of what to do

'cause i am thinking outside
   though inner is the cure

time for hate is over
   hating far to long

time to create the next life
   master of the song

ignorance teacher
of humanity pain and
suffering a tool

"Untended Thoughts"


Untended thoughts falter softly
Leaving emptiness to be filled
With                whatever
Slow transformation bends
Awareness
Into something else
Pavlov would understand


Dingggg!

you don't get conscious
without a rise from the base
then you are aware

"Thought The Heartbeat"


Thought the heartbeat spiritual lung breath
Learned conditioned malleable prism
Of the underneath space-time-mind-light-root-
Center of the universe one fathom
Long dreamed of reality this mountain
Crafted i permeation salts the sea
Relative here now no where empty form
Experiencing movement happy sad pain
Joy fear death yes no death birth twining
Around the wheel sentient shaped cognate
Realms six of one no other place to go
But out nirvana way some say some don't
Care just slake vibrations vibrating till
Satiety with peaked release fall
In brain chemistry world incredible we do
Not know the soul deep with eddies currents
Patterns self aware point bright in view held
Firmly scared to cease idea nothing
But the great unknown a million
Magnitudes of bone in ten directions

saw the demon in your eye
fell in love with you
take me there again sweet one

i walked the shores
of Agenon
for thirty years and more

it was not there

lived a long life
of hardship
on the slave ships of Stife

it was for naught

fell in love a
hundred times
never forgot one

i weep at the loss

sat on a mountain
wind blowing
through me

it was pleasant

perfection is a quest of fools

"We Who Are Aware"


Within our pulsing sphere of warm, gray, flesh,
A ceaseless ebb and flow of words and shapes
And forms breaks upon the misty shores of
Our awareness, and brings to all who bear
The hallowed blood of Adam, a free and
Unique essence, called soul. Our lives are filled
From cradle to grave with the mortal task
Of finding a frame and structure for these
Swirling thoughts, and thus is born our deep and
Burning drive for knowledge, for entertainment,
For art. Yet this precious gift which falls to
All in unequal share, sparks amid our
Hearts the fires of greed and hate and lust as
Well, and all throughout the ages in the
Pages of history it is clearly
Seen as part of both the purest and the
Vilest acts of man. And so we live our
Numbered days with this golden burden which
Is truly ours alone. The brutes that tread
This world with us have not the width nor breadth
Of sense that stirs within the sentient mind
Of man. They do not grow ambitious for
A speck of gold, nor strive to paint their pictures
On the wall. The trees that live a span of
Years that puts to shame our brief and fleeting
Time, stand mute, and dumb, and dreamless. The flowers,
In their brightest show of color and scent
Have not the splendor found within the dimmest
Thought that twigs at the mind of a babe.
And the ever endless universe, in
All its gleam and glory, shines a light unto
An emptiness until it comes to rest
Upon the sight and soul of we who are aware.

the wonders of the
universe abound look at
them first then we think

i see the nevermore
   again and again
never happened never will
   yet it drives my mind
to distraction of cognition
   what else is there
but a choice moment by moment
   a difficult task

A year ago I was not this that I
Am now, no. Each new day passing forth marks
Not a journey in time alone. These forms
Of flesh and thought we know as ours belie
Their truth, with a gentle flowing change, thereby
Seeming a constant, but 'tis not so. Ways
Loved as part of life shift unseen. Yet cries
Of anguish rise from earnest lips to high
Places when we discern this fluid nature
And fearing a vaporous soul we dim
The view, and blindly hold to a caustic cure,
Wishful fantasy. To face our thoughts and trim
The base is hard, so very hard, though 'tis sure
A healing way, where firm efforts, may win.

so the dog ate the
bone was a dog bone he ate
consume a dog bone

the spheres created
the brain follows and just is
what creates the spheres

Called

called a lecture
   at the coffee shop
no one showed
   but me and my cup
  
proclaimed to the walls
   my fantasies of words
no one denied
   my ignorance
  
but i heard an echo
   speaking softly
the coffee machine
   gurgling softly
  
and i fell in love

what is the teacher
perception what is the
student creation

the present is now
told a thousand years ago
and we stand conscious

the cloud exists in the mind
i see i see now
turn around look at future

the dog fast kills the
rabbit   eats   i am waiting
for scraps  patiently

"The Song of Not Self"

Habits, are not the self
Customs, laws, nationalities
       are not the self
Conventions, language, vision, taste
       are not the self
The rolling Georgian hills, the Himalayas
The western Rockies, the eastern Smokeys
The northern forested Canadian home of the white bear
The White Cliffed Isle, the frozen Red Gulag
The cities clogged with motion, the empty vast stretches
       the round, wet, green, globe circumferenced, the stars
       are not the self
The perishables
       are not the self

we experience
and are result awakened
moment here and now

life is so simple
thoughts get in the way
i heard this before
many times   doh

you coward amen
not soul saver till the end
no you were just man

change 18/9/3

the little child
in the tiny bed
went to sleep one night
and dreamed

of a magic kingdom
"here you are now"
said the unicorn
"why did you come now"

and the child said
"i wanted to see what was beyond"
"beyond what" said the unicorn
"beyond what i see" the child said

a large bear then entered the circle
"there are always things beyond what you can see
little child who can tell the future
good night and sleep well my child peace "

"brother bear where does change arrive from
but the place beyond the known "
said the little child in her dream

Is Jack, jack?
i don't know no more
listen to good a drummer
drummin differently to much
is in orbit mit dem ***
teroids hemorrhoids itchy plenty
but so what?
i don't know his forms
effort and song belongs
somewhere but not in my
iddy bitty head fluctuating
syncopatic homeopathic
homeo homeo wherefore art
gave himself head advice
in the mirror at the
bug house fluctuating
asyncopatic and swallows
it whole from the T.V.
and dances but he
don't know why
why?

write it and give it
was created just like bone
still walking somehow

"Sonnets From a Conversation With a Friend XVIII "


Different language different self, shaped
Of action, shaper of acts, aggregate
Born of body, speech, and mind. Offsprung fate
Mother creator, sentient congealed
Light. The mystery itself a gnawing
Pain stimulation to movement, former
Of distraction, pre-conscious constructer
Of constellations and galaxies swimming
In the great ocean deluded. Ego
Follows function, motivation the door
Magnificent. Change, reality for
The multitudes to nine decimals. No
Brain to small to know the great endless fall
To emptiness, clear waveless base of all.

can there be a sentient form
   that understands the all
no

Honey Girl

chained my heart to yours girl
kissed my *** goodbye
knew you was the heartbreaker
love you till i die

sooner before later
i know what's coming soon
love you till i die girl
in ***** tonk saloon

in my dreams been dreaming
of your love for me
lordy lordy honey girl
please give up to me

words were spoken often
none i thought was true
lordy lordy honey girl
***** tonk saloon

dreams are a force of
nature cause of an effect
what you gonna do

caveman thinks
in the old dark
breath

all the books
of all history
are all the same
why do you expect
something different ?

the grass on the hill
speaks nothing until
our ears open with age
and the demons dark will
loses meaning

the soft melody
of piece sends a thrill
to the harbory of will
and causes a self
into being

action a skill learned
from birth to the grave
we pay not attention
to continous pain
and we travel

so everyone
is an idiot and so
am i i love us

future is people
both scary and so hopeful
do we have a choice

what are choices but
a skill of hand internal
progresse in practice

the fathomed world will
be transformed only in
a mind that's conscious

full moon      deep sky
       god's breeze
mouse fur over toes

the root tree
i saw a  cloud
changing