I sit here
on these empty battlements
built brick by bitter brick
to guard around my heart
that most fragile *****.
I overlook the battle of my spirit and will
only to hear your voice
speaking my fears into reality.
As I watch
one foe turns spectral in form,
vanishing in mist.
Leaving me dejected,
frustrated in my deliberations.
Showing me the true nature
of this deceit;
the most horrible kind
that
of the Self.

***** Wonka's ***** is wonky,
I wanted to write it down
But I didn't bring my pren.
He tried to hand me one,
I said, "Not now, we're in the car."
She burst out laughing.

Poking the booth.
Hole. Hole. Hole.
he said, "no, it's not big enough."
And she always likes to be the Devil's
abst, abti, avsti, avocate.
The conversation tries to continue on
while I cry,
"Stop! I have to write this down!
Hand me the pren."
He asks if I'm going to include:
"Front hole so happy, back hole sing song."
I don't know, maybe,
and yet I have.

He needs  to see "The Exorcist",
the movie, not the person.
I offered to exorcise him, if he needed it -
"Baby."
but he hasn't eaten any split pea soup recently
so I don't see the need.

The smoke crowds around him,
the one who doesn't practice the cancer stick mojo,
and she says,
"Just say - I hate rabbits."
"What?"
"I hate rabbits, it makes the smoke go away."
"I hate rabbits."
The second hand cloud disappears.
"See?"
"You're not normal."
She laughs and replies that it's
the normals you have to watch out for.

She and I decided to write a letter to
Destiny,
relaying that
no matter how hard we try to convince him,
he does not believe in her existence.
However,
Nobody expects the
Spanish Inquisition.

A feeling of awe
when standing in midsts ancient
the whispers are true.

Limits do not exist
They are creations of the mind
Time and Space do not exist
They are creations of the Mind
Fear on the ladder up the genome
Its every 2nd rung
And we can't seem to get rid of it.
Fear is the father of all destruction
Fear breeds ranks
Of Anger
Distrust
Paranoia
Violence
When faced with a radical new view
Fear does his dance
Hoping we will turn away
Or smash until comprehension is
No longer available.
Please check your number and dial again.
You have now entered
The
Void.
That place of Zen No-Thingness.
Here is the black where all colors
Are in the same space
At the same time.
Where there is no separation
One from another.
All co-exists harmoniously
And we consider the Dark side
To be the place of hell.
White is the absence of all color
Within it nothing exists at all
It is true oblivion.
And we consider the Light side
To be the place of heaven.
And yet
And yet
Fear declares that oblivion is the enemy
We must find any way possible
To become
Immortal.
(Dunt Dunt Duuunnn!)
Have you found Waldo yet?
We live in a paradoxical reality
Dictated by our Most Holy Lord
Fear
And His Most High and Mighty
Likes to keep us hiding in the dark
Longing for the light
While holding us in ignorance to the
True Nature
Of both.
Even when we glimpse it
If Fear gets to us before anything else
We turn our backs on the Truth
And try to destroy all evidence
Of its existence.
Maybe the way out
Is just to twirl
And keep twirling
So that Fear can't ever get into our view
And can't even get a hold on us.
Possibly the Dervishes have something
Going with their rites.
We would see
All
If we set our spirits
To twirling.
Don't worry about where
The music will come from.
The universe is already
Providing it.

To live
Seems to mean
To struggle.
Buddha teaches that when we
Release all of our desires
Our expectations
Our assumptions
Then too shall our suffering pass.
There is a part of me which
Cheers
And yet another which
Rails
In response to this.
It seems on the surface to ask
Us to cease to be human.
But isn't that what the search for enlightenment
Is about?
To become something more than human?
To elevate into a higher No-Thing?
However
In this search we forget that
The quest itself is
A desire
An expectation
An assumption
That there is something to
Work
Towards.
Only when we release
Even this need to be
Something other than what
We are
Does that mysterious
Phenomenon happen.
Or does it?
It seems so easy at times
To let go
Let it all slip from my grasp
And find that place
Which is
No place
And
All places at once.
Something always calls me back
And I find myself
Toiling
Stumbling
Struggling
Suffering
And I have to ask
Why?
What pulls on my silver cord
And grounds me back to this
Fleshly cage
With all of its
Aches and pains
Tortures and torments?
I don't understand
Maybe I'm not supposed to
And this grasping
For knowledge
On the whys
Of human suffering
Is just another thing
I must lay by the wayside
Say
Adieu
And never look back.
If only it were that effortless
Perhaps I am distantly related to
Lot's wife.
Destined to become a pillar of salt
When I cannot turn my back on
That which I love.
Disobeying the Divine
Distrusting that there should be no
Last sight
It seems straightforward
The Divine sees what we mortals do not
But if we are all a part of the Divine
Is it impossible for us to know it all as well?
This appears to be the case for the masses
And for me
As I am not a Bodhisattva
Yet.

Some say I'm too tough
Hard to comprehend
Hard to deal with
Hard to love
Some say I'm too soft
Easy to push over
Easy to manipulate
Easy to love
It is hard to explain
Easy to cave in
Just shut up
And let the others do their thing.
Think what they want
Do what they want
Hold no one accountable
For their actions.
We all mess up
We all have faults
We all have lives
After All.
But if we hold no one
Especially ourselves
Accountable
For our actions
For our reactions
For our inactions
Then how do we live?
Responsibility is a big word
And a bigger deed.
We are in this life
To learn
And teach
Every moment
Every breath
Every heartbeat.
What we get out of it
Is up to us
Alone
Individually
Subjectively.
We can do no more
Good
In this life
In this world
In this universe
Than to be the best
Student
Teacher
Partner
To everyone around us
Including ourselves
That we can be.
We must not judge
That one person's way
Is better than another
Simply that it is
A different point of view
A different way of living
A different style of loving.
The blind can get along
Without the one-eyed man
And if he thinks himself king
Because of his sight
It will only be until
The novelty of him
Has worn off.
For the blind have
Everything mapped out
Each step counted
Every object
Accounted for and memorized.
Those with sight
Move things around
Step outside the lines
Wonder what is beyond.
We can no more
Cause someone to awaken
Than we can restore
Sight to the blind
Hearing to the deaf
Voice to the mute.
Though we can offer them
New ways to explore
Their world.
Tell our tales
Without expecting
Any of it
To be heard
To be understood
To be believed.
For us to try to understand
Within ourselves
That all find out
Exactly what they need to know
When they need to know it
In ways only they can know it.
And sometimes
We are the messenger
Bearing tidings of great joy.
And sometimes
We are the lunatic
Ranting unheard on the corner.
It doesn't matter what you think
You are
Except to yourself
And you can never
Ever
Make someone see you
Any other way
Than the way that
They do.
Words
Actions
Beliefs
Are up for random
Interpretation.
And if you want to be
Unconditionally accepted
For your unique being
Then it's time to ante up
Folks
Because
Turnabout
Is Definitely
Fair Play.

I've got a Muse on my back
It whispers in my ear
Has my hair in its grasp
Directing me
Turning me this way and that
Now a painting
Now the words spill forth
And now
Ladies and Gentlemen
Creatures of all ages
It's time for an event!
Let us wow and amaze you
Show you Portals
Where the Dreamworld spills through!
You won't believe your eyes
And will wonder if the Sandman
Hasn't snuck up on you!
I hope.
At least that's what the Muse
On my back says
Showing me glimpses of what
Is waiting to be done.
It's already there
I've already done it
In the space and time where there is
No space and time
But all happens Now.
So all I have to do is
Do it
And trust that its already
A success
After all, who am I to doubt
The Muse on my back.