torn from mother and warmth of house
i wandered lost in darkness and dread.
cold seeped into my bones,
no escape from the faceless one.
wild dogs did not tear my body apart.
they were friends in fitful dreams.
only the shadow of death ran swiftly by and said he is
not ready to take me yet.
shooting stars appeared at last to dispel leftover fears and
tell me of work i have to do.
birds awoke, wings fluttered,
and took flight.
△
along the rugged path,
in interior country.
on the trail of tears
cold mountain is here.
isolation takes its toll.
like the oldest range i am worn away.
were it not for this work
i would have vanished long ago.
soon i will burn these pages to stay warm.
△
our town rests on the top of the great
pyramid of needs. well below, cardboard houses
slide down steep muddy slopes after
heavy rains.
the turning point of civilization
occurred when the angry history-god
tipped the tables & spilled money onto
the floor & was branded communist &
beaten severely.
history-people find it difficult
to see patient geologic-god push mountains up
with a spoon, one spoonful at a time.
△
i had the dream about the month of august:
on august 13th the mighty death spear
drove through the hearts of white blood cells
lined up single file in my body's defense.
getting used to the idea of death.
vehicle stripped and made into a shrine:
windowless openings hung with white flowing sheets.
hood, roof & trunk decorated with
flowers and lighted candles burning in bright, colorful pottery.
when i let go i won't need the vehicle anymore.
i'll crawl out of my skin, o what a beautiful sight!
barefoot on the road to life.
△
shaggy homeless men with nothing left laugh at
emptiness. they look so hollow.
they have devoured hunger hungrily
and embraced the void.
ours is not the world they inhabit.
i glimpsed their civilization—
the Great Pyramid below the street,
upside down!
△
in the time it takes a great civilization to turn to dust,
submerged springs superheated by her fiery breath rise.
healing arts heal today's dyslexic auras.
humble nameless one emerges from the cave,
mends many wounded souls with his hands.
△
her words enter my head & persistently whisper to me until i pay attention.
then poetry covers me like a flood.
thousand of years pass by, she will not let go.
songs slice through the soul's compressed strata
to expose the old old layers of truth.
△
fear lack of change and movement more than universal stagnation.
draw your own strategic plan in shifting sands.
like a seaworthy bark build the house brick by brick.
lead lost peoples to greener pastures.
seek stillness and silence in the heat of battle's bloodless light.
bring an end to dread.
this is where to start.
the dead and missing will be found,
those poor souls who lost their way.
△
the war began where war ends.
badly burnt ashen souls wander smoldering radial miles
of a Godless Zone.
△
complete annihilation preceded the first attack.
impossible negotiations had broken down.
time moves slowly in reverse,
a dark age envelops awareness in heavy wearying waves.
the victims run back into the burning house.
△
dead before we hit the ground
w/ no inkling of our dying.
it is the best way to go they said
like the funny old men bent w/ age
more focused than their youthful counterparts
less plagued by noise, more attuned to
celestial music. they thread
the needle with twinkling sightless eyes,
they find their way w/o a map
and know where you'll be
before you get there.
how life and death seamlessly
coexist and were never
(for a moment) separated
at our birth.
△
worm is doing what worm does.
why does this frighten us?
million years of rain and by accident we grew
from single cell soup to the most destructive race.
make up your mind.
(there is so little time)
matter returns to basic forms
angels lighter become
spirit joins the great one.