how i feel today.

Won't say I love you, babe,
won't say I need you, babe,
but I'm gonna get you babe
and I will not do you wrong.
Living's mostly wasting time
and I'll waste my share of mine
but it never feels to good,
so let's don't take to long.
You're soft as glass
and I'm a gentle man;
we got the sky to talk about
and the earth to lie upon.
Days, up and down they come
like rain on a congadrum
forget most, remember some
but don't turn none away.
Everything is not enough
and nothin' is to much to bear.
Where you been is good and gone
all you keep is the getting there.
To live is to fly
Low and high,
so shake the dust off of your wings
and the sleep out of your eyes.
Goodbye to all my friends
it's time to go again
think of all the poetry
and the pickin' down the line
I'll miss the system here
the bottom's low
and the treble's clear
But it don't pay to think to much
on things you leave behind.
I will be gone
but it won't be long
I will be a'bringin' back the melodies
and rhythm that I find.
We all got holes to fill
them holes are all that's real.
Some fall on you like a storm,
sometimes you dig your own.
The choice is yours to make,
time is yours to take;
some dive into the sea,
some toil upon the stone.
To live is to fly
Low and high,
so shake the dust off of your wings
and the sleep out of your eyes;
shake the dust off of your wings
and the tears out of your eyes.

"Late on the third day, at the very moment when, at sunset, we were making our way through a herd of hippopotamuses, there flashed upon my mind, unforeseen and unsought, the phrase : “Ehrfurcht vor dem Leben” (“reverence for life”). The iron door had yielded. The path in the thicket had become visible.”

everything moves toward the beginning.  i begin to recognize the path, for months now obscured by overgrowth, venomous bramble and deadfall.  the dynamic sphere that extends outward infinite everywhere rolling in arcs and waves as invisible and essential as air.  

"Compassion, in which all ethics must take root, can only attain its full breadth and depth if it embraces all living creatures and does not limit itself to mankind."

i begin to see the practice, and i feel the energy return to me the more effort i expend.  at last with Beloved as guide, pilgrim and companion, i may be able to relax into Being, the bloom of the century plant, the end of Desire.  three days of clouds break apart like old batting and with the wind creates these shadow countries that exult across the ground gradually releasing her green.  i could watch the wind through the pine boughs all day and come to understand a thousand things.  the small birds are gods prophets, the trees a religion.

the house metabolizes more books and paint, i offer incense and fire, i sweep and try to tend with a gentler hand.  ive been so hard so long and now there are moments of panic in the shell, clawing at cracks my fingers hurt, my heart races.  this is my struggle.  this is my blessing.  and the shell is weak, superficial and doomed but I am forever. and its forever i begin to believe in. 

"Happiness is nothing more than good health and a bad memory."

return of the ten:

1.  arundhati roy

2.  michael moore

3.  amy goodman

4.  utah phillips

5.  ani difranco

6.  michael franti

7.  meg hutchinson

8.  father daniel berrigan
9.  etty hillesum

10.  greg mortenson

(and bushwalla and the cats from 1GreatLeap)

(3.23)  birthday of Akira Kurosawa

“In a mad world, only the mad are sane."

What About Me? Grace
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breathe open let go

"Heaven, Earth and Man.  Understand That."

"you breathe your partner and that breath connects with everything...there is no Other...

"what you are defeating is your own personal plan for yourself...by connecting your energy with the energy of the Universe, that Bigger Thing can happen."

"you know, you did one thing to save me, you kept me alive"

rain to keep me inside, singing and smudging and earning my keep.  the geranium offers its blackmagick bloom, on the orchid some wither as others unfurl.  in my dream i rode a tricycle while the lights went out in the dark country morning.  you held on, wrapped around me, and i pedaled with the utmost serenity back home beneath the rude incredulity of a lady in her car.  

"I didn't use any contractions in the narration, and I used Latinate words, polysyllabic words, instead of German monosyllables. Any time I could, I chose a longer word rather than a shorter word, as if Hemingway had never lived."

i feel ill-equipped for your heartbreak,  can only bear witness and pray for whats best.  can only Be Here as completely as i can, breath by breath, a Hudson Bay blanket and Love on the damp cold lawn of despair.  it soaks through your defenses a shiver that wont release your bones grim monday on the wind and something bitter burning.  i have just enough strength in me to lead you home, leave the wretched sick behind for the rain to wash deep into ground.  you came home early and we slept, how sweet to rest under eider while the world spins mad and cruel and elsewhere.  the fate of millions sucking surging every minute were asleep, feted unexpectedly by short and happy dreams.  "my name, and love" is what you didnt want to say and i cant imagine why. 

"Remember men, we're fighting for this woman's honour; which is probably more than she ever did."

spring the season of water, of change from frozen to open.  i feel the bones of the Antelope Wife beneath my skin the painted wagon behind the hedge is always that impossible?  its early yet, and still the stink of Dresden squats under our fingernails, in the folds of our clothes.  through Grace i set my burden down, my hands are free to steady you.  im getting stronger, my eyes arent distracted by the mexican standoff of Earth and Sky, where the sun selfimmolates and the light is blood over the ground.  there are moments of closeness that rush through me like foxfire.  there are epochs of loneliness.  so i fold shirts and feed the birds and sometime soon on the future ocean floor, itll rain.

"I've be waiting for you
To tell me something I already knew
And I've been waiting for some indication
That the hardest part is through
And I've been walking these hills in the afternoon
Watching the snow line slowly recede
Thinking if there's nothing that's mine to keep
Then there is nothing I will ever need
And all my doors are open wide
And I am staring at my life
Hearing sweet laughter of someone
I haven't seen for a long long time
And if there's nothing I expect
Then what the hell do I stand to lose
If given a choice between this and something easy
I know what I'd choose
'Cause I've already chosen."

lord i dig this woman.

birthday of Billy Collins.  prob. my fave, this one and the one about the dog.

for Cowboy.

the way i feel today.  coffee and crystallized angelcake, smudge and rain and the laundry.

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for Beloved, the best explanation i can give

gurldoggies daughter turns two soon.  the 19th in spain was the Fallas Festival.  made me think of you, dovie.

for Teacher 

who will always believe i live off, not along

and so i live away

"She lives / below luck-level, never imagining some lottery / will change her load of pottery to wings. / Her only levity is patience, / the sport of truly chastened things." 

(my spring offering to the King of the Faeries)

morning sometimes difficult to navigate.  want to shake my tambourine and twirl across the yard, sing hosannas to the precious absolute of a new day, but it would only make you wince and turn away.  so i keep the levels low and try not to stare.  but inside my heart is aching to grab your hand and run, wet grass and morning making merry across the quiet distances between us.  and it makes my belly ache.  but then you come to me with your soft hands and your sad eyes and kiss me there in the sunlit  kitchen and it makes the waking worthwhile.  and i listen to midlake and get lost on the moors of my headspace and its a long time til i see you again.

sometimes you are so far away from me i am a stranger in this house a spectre projected by what you could not leave behind, i feel as if at any moment my bones will float through and away from my insubstantial flesh, separate like something slowly cooked and left uneaten.  on the rocks at the edge of the deep blue bay of your life apart from me the lighthouse fire turned away and theres a rush of blood to my head to my hands i hold my breath until it comes around again the wind blowing clouds away from the face of the moon the light is air to me the light draws my heart my hands away from the cage of self and toward something beautiful, greater than any of us expected.

so i put on hunter and garcia and tried to work the pain out of me through the spiral of my hips and flight feathers of fingertips.  this relentless nausea and ache has left me desperate.  your kiss is this disease tied to a hundred doves that lift away from me carry away from me all doubt and desperation.  for one thin minute i can breathe, loose the grappling hooks that cord between my belly and my neck.  vertebral conduit constrains a suffocating chakral snake, pale and puffy from neglect, sick cervical bulge where energy pools and stagnates in grim eddies of energy i need to stretch and dance back into the living.  i need to shrug the wet lead mantle of resignation off my shoulders and show my wings, stretched rosysnowy in the sunlight just like a turkey vulture on a barn roof.

but im off into the sunlight on merry errands, a hummingbird feeder and making many friends.  oh how the hammock calls me!  but peas and spinach have been planted, and tomorrow is a long walk and prayer flags.  ive been ravenous lately with a mighty thirst, easy to fall into the bilgewater of nausea.  not one hundred percent yet but getting it done, with frequent breaks for breath and hydration, face to a benevolent sun.  tonight west along the wide road and back to you, this Eve of Ostara.

the birthday of Josef Albers

 "I count all the time on resonance."

for you, and your bad dreams i cant relieve

"...All this automatic writing I have tried to understand
From a psychedelic angel who was tugging on my hand
It's an infinite coincidence but it doesn't form a plan
So I'm headed for New England or the Paris of the South
Gonna find myself somewhere to level out

I tried to pass for nothing
But my dreams gave me away..."