Longing, we say, because desire is full
of endless distances.”

31 March 2008

J.K. Commandment #7: Blow as deep as you want to blow.
" When it is dark enough, you can see the stars." By moving away from something you gain perspective on how the thing itself is woven into the greater cloth. The thread shares its strength and color with the others, is at once integral and unique. We are not the columns of Ozymandias -- singular, supporting nothing but the weight of memory of what once was home for the soul. We are columns of light, supporting the weight of the world. We each contribute our color and our strength, at once integral and unique. Unkindness is isolation, unwillingness to share what is given to share. Unkindness is poverty of the soul, a column of Ozymandias, barrenness and ruin. Let the light flow through you, through the cracks in the column made by time and heartbreak. Let the light flow through you into every other thing in the weave of this Universe. This is integrity. This is Love, given to be shared.

30 March 2008

J.K. Commandment #6: Be crazy dumbsaint of the mind.
"It is only possible to live happily ever after on a day to day basis." 200 words on the body's experience of happiness. Standing in an embrace of spruce the last March morning deer tracks rabbit tracks sap smell sunlight my dear mama bear dog an earthling smelling the wind for spring but theres ice on the creek ice water air but the most earthly pleasure of breathing whatsoever another moment alive to feel the spring sun on your face knowing theres coffee and cats inside your family books hoya boardgames chocolate paintbox cast iron skillet rocking chair white bed gypsy music japanese incense taste touch sight sound smell of home of this infinitely miraculous planet ive been blessed to be born on to have ten fingers to touch two eyes to see a tongue that tastes a mind that considers condenses consciousness itself the human experience making the connections indras web infinite miraculous matrix to walk out into the ocean to walk out onto the shore to sleep and dream to have coffee and toast with cherry preserves soft cooked egg from the shell with a tiny silver spoon someone meeting your eye saying hello i am glad you are here with me this hilltop this embrace of trees my lifetime tempus fugit my experience today hello welcome to my happiness.

29 March 2008

J.K.Commandment #5: Something that you feel will find its own form.
200 Words on a Seashell. The mathematical elegance of a nautilus shell mystical significance of a spiral. Godhand architecture for a musclemass a hundred feet below the surface of the ocean we walk along the edge of the ocean watching for signs poems cut in colored bone a scallop has a hundred blue eyes this one has a hole in it i can string it wear it around my neck as if to say this is where i come from somewhere in there my translucent ancestor drifted toward the light the land grew lungs and loved the earths more certain gods discovered seeds and sex and fire and here i am after all the significant heir the signifying monkey with the seashell around her neck she puts the shell up to her ear in a fit of nostalgia, pain for what we lost of who we were trading womb dark paradise for the glare of earths relentless star i can hear the ocean the lyrical magnetism of the ocean the old man and the sea that is far far older than he mother ocean cruel mistress sister of the moon waves and tides the origin of our blood strung around our neck to remember us.

28 March 2008

J.K. Commandment #4: Be in love with yr life.
"Sometimes the beauty is easy. Sometimes you don’t have to try at all. Sometimes you can hear the wind blow in a handshake. Sometimes there’s poetry written right on the bathroom wall." Snow. Haiku of snow on Zen branches bare budless bent with weight of snow rain in a winter coat woke up today to the siren and the plow to thinking about my friend calling me in the snow driving calling me this is what i am now. This is where we are. Regardless of the war or the weather this is where we are this is the story we will tell the of the Spring and the snow of the Traveler and two friends in such an improbable world. Traveler is an electric galaxy of cells swirling inside her and she blesses me she calls me down the road through the snow she says share this with me. This is everything.

27 March 2008

J.K. Commandment #3: "Try never get drunk outside yr own house."
"There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and will be lost." Everything sleeps, still in a stupor, and the word is more snow. The earth seems dismal and grim, not the sleeping psychedelic chrysalis of spring. The pause between breathing, the absolutely colorless color of the sky. Today, you say. Just for today. And with a few more degrees of the turn the earth will open one eye and say well, let get going. And we shall go. Grow. A small brown seed abandoned between the paving stones will split its skull and show a shoot that is the sign of strength and knowing. Peapod, cornstalk, rosebud, us.

26 March 2008

J.K. Commandment #2: Submissive to everything, open, listening.
"Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions."
Spring, it seems. Could i be honest? Be real? Could i dare speak the truth? The truth ive spent my whole life pretending wasnt there, didnt matter? The little truths, the everyday truths, start small, just move one stone, let that little light through. Itll inspire you. Live the question, "what would happen if i were honest now?" Live the question, "what would happen if you said what you meant right now?" Live the question, "why not be honest, why not be who you are?" The most simple and the most seemingly impossible thing ive done. Right now and right now and right now. Submit to the truth. Be open to the truth. Listen to the truth inside you. And say it. And dont be afraid. Your truth is bigger than you are. It will guard you and guide you and set you free.

25 March 2008

J.K. Commandment #1. "Scribbled secret notebook for yr own joy."

"Starseed accepts directive to heal and be healed." Pink house. Enormous vibrating IBM typewriter. Dictionary. Alienated, exploited, bright. Pushed off dock. Gives up. Cruel. Wandering. Red-head. City streets. Maus. Baby. Red-head. O.K. I guess I can get married next month and keep it a secret. Baby. Desolation. Red-head. Farm. Black Horse. Waterfall. Meds. Greyhaven. Talking cure. Letting go.

24 March 2008

"a taste composed of everything lost, in which everything lost is found." crazy quilt scraps and rags sewn together in deep night by starlight by heart something to shelter lovers swaddle time this is from my kitchen apron wedding dress kimono from the tired dress favorite jeans baby blanket bedspread dream smooth sheets with blood kissed cabbage roses crazy quilt the time we went everywhere together the time we went anywhere alone. thin edge craves thickness where everyday ground doesnt swell away with every wave the water isnt an infinite trampoline the teacup doesnt fling itself from the shelf in fear of falling with a shudder and cars fall from their tracks gardens fall into cracks we tend our gardens on the slopes of vesuvius we are oceans of black boxes full of koi. our language is night sounds static interference jarring frequencies bar bar bar (instead of) hands eyes minds hearts. we are tempered into dumb complicity into thinking we are scraps and rags but here is my hand with a silver pin some blood red thread to bring ourselves together at the edges balm them bind them show you how beautiful you can be.

23 March 2008

"at the rising of the moon." its colder than it looks we stop the green water is a rush reflects nothing but us standing around it wondering. all around the world ending beginning ending beginning unclothed cornfield mystic windbreak hills hills we climbed that hill the sky without color a hawk on a highway sign. i have here right now bloodless stubblefield stand spruce view hills that ring the lake i watched one night dancing with a woman she said the women keep to the end of the line. my friend is sick. my friend a red shirt like a heart on fire like your first candy apple with light shining through it like blood from your first split lip that tastes of spirits. tiger tiger burning bright iconoclast firebrand vanguard ride on ride on ride on. this is becoming personal. let us meet in the field beyond right and wrong. let us not curse the folds of flesh we drag behind our luminous spirits. let us laugh and be wise, let us love and be light. this is personal. the breeze brings four warnings.

22 March 2008

"compassion is a verb." we tend one another we offer light and water and darkness varying quantities and degrees some of us are roses some coneflowers some brilliant roadside weeds. the creek runs over stones and makes a song deep quiet and light in the shallows runs from the hill to the near lake the story of this years thaw this script of melting and becoming this is harder than i ever thought it would be and it makes more sense and the melting feeds the seed it softens breathes in light and brings green becoming to bear the crown of summer the mantle of fall and the sleeping seed of winter the circle is a song across the breast of the world the light the wind that moves and changes everything it touches this spring sun that blesses that kisses the cracks that cold winter made the cracks that make space for the song of water that runs from between the trees the wind runs through the fingers makes a day of it breathe because it could be you the deer taking in the hill down into the road where the brilliant weed grow and then its done and there is no more hill road brilliant flower of spring the black eye takes in the last of its light and what else is there for us to do but love one another?

21 March 2008

"the dry seasons in life do not last." strong sun stronger she is light and does not withhold one moment does not say i shall not shine here or here because. strong sun loves her light a small star the seed of a system that developed the likes of me and her mandate is shine, do not withold one moment do not say i shall not shine here or here because. so if today you and i should meet along the way i will look into your sun and shine.

20 March 2008

it is like sending out a signal hello hello do you read me? little nestling eiderdown duvet brown betty teapot and a chocolate a book a dream where the quilt was jewel purple jewel green. im getting static today maybe its the heavy energy the planet tilting im the egg on the countertop holding steady the very forces of the very everything a billion silver strands connecting connecting always connect boil eggs in onion skins the lovely aruncanas and the lady with the goats and the horses my beloved black horse dream horse the heart of a horse beautiful fierce this is to say hello and do you read me? breathe. we can breathe together. together. to gather. eggs and books and little boys who resemble their fathers funny boys with light in their eyes snow in the valley hello.
"And if the question were asked: What is more real, the mundane or the sublime? most would hesitate before they gave an answer. On the one side, details: say, the aftermath of a breakfast, dirty chipped plates in the sink, their rims encrusted with egg yolk. Against this, the unnameable: small aching heart with boasts, what can you know? Outside the cage of everything we ever heard or saw, beyond, outside, above, there lies the real, hiding as long as we shall live, there stretch and trail the millions of names of God burning across the eons. When all through this our end will come before we even know the names of us.

For many the egg yolk prevails." -L.M.

"Love many things, for therein lies the true strength, and whosoever loves much performs much, and can accomplish much, and what is done in love is done well."

"The perfection of the Absolute where all Becoming stops and pure Being, immutable, timeless, unchanging, hangs forever like a ripe peach upon the bough." -E.A.

"...and the whole incident was incredibly frazzling and angst-rod and filled almost a whole mead notebook and is here recounted in only its barest psycho-skeletal outline." -D.F.W.

"At the top of the mountain, we are all snow leopards." -H.S.T.

"Only when we are no longer afraid do we begin to live." -D.T.
"Cometh a voice: My children, hear; From the crowded street and the close-packed mart I call you back with my message clear, back to my lap and my loving heart. Long have ye left me, journeying on by range and river and grassy plain, to the teeming towns where the rest have gone - come back, come back to my arms again. So shall ye lose the foolish needs that gnaw your souls; and my touch shall serve to heal the fretted nerve. Treading the turf that ye once loved well, instead of the stones of the city's street, ye shall hear nor din nor drunken yell, but the wind that croons in the ripening wheat. I that am old have seen long since ruin of palaces made with hands for the soldier-king and the priest and prince whose cities crumble in desert sands. But still the furrow in many a clime yields softly under the ploughman's feet; still there is seeding and harvest time, and the wind still croons in the ripening wheat. The works of man are but little worth; for a time they stand, for a space endure; but turn once more to your mother - Earth, my gifts are gracious, my works are sure. Instead of the strife and pain I give you peace, with its blessing sweet. Come back, come back to my arms again, for the wind still croons in the ripening wheat."
-John Sandes, The Earth-Mother (excerpt, 1918)