House on Plumber's Street (for Daniel)

Beautiful colorful shabby...

you are welcome if you dare to enter...

but;  leave your ideas outside.

Reunion

Institutions are for the institutionalized.

Forty fifth college reunion this summer.

I had an idea, with my dear friend, A.,

who matriculated with me but took three

years to write his senior paper, to give

something back...not to the school, rather

to our class...to create an event, a mini 

reliving of that open and wonderful time

of our lives that changed us all forever in

such a diversity of ways. We thought we

could get some like mindeds together,

play music, read poetry, perform 

spontaneous theatre, give lectures on

Buddhism and plumbing, in short, show

how we have contributed to the world 

beyond money, beyond another bench

somewhere in the Arb dedicated to the

class of such and so.

A. looked at the reunion page of the 

website and saw that everything had

been carefully planned. There would be

no surprises...no one would raise their

hippie flag atop the student union this

time. Even the past had been sanitized

to reflect an ideal of cultural sameness

that cannot be a living thing. 

I wrote half my senior paper on mescaline.

I wrote the other half the way I knew they'd

want it...I knew the gauntlet well by then, and

all I really wanted to do was get out of there 

and into the real world that I was not prepared 

for, except to the extent that I knew that it too 

was a game with rules. When I got my paper

back, the comments reflected this exact point

of view. The rest of my life I learned to follow 

my heart, not my rational mind; that tool good

for grocery lists or sending a man to the moon,

but useless either to experience the world or

understand the experience.

So, no letters after my name. I had some

professional licenses, some good theatrical 

reviews, a book of poems published in an

obscure country on the other side of the world.

Some might have said I taught meditation well.

I like the epitaph on a tombstone that Vonnegut

coined:     "He tried."

Phlegmatic Immunity

I'm too old for this.

My first book of poems

was just published in

Romania. The chances 

of anyone outside that 

country seeing it are as

good as if it were published

by Hillbilly Press in 

Arkansas.

It was nice to see my words

in print. That lasted a day or

two. 

I wrote this in a dream:

"Achievements are blades

of grass that fly in the face

of death like straw in the wind."

I think I was trying to tell myself

something.

I'm enjoying my cranky, creaky

life too much anymore to try 

very hard to do anything.

Anyway, my poems are like a

message from a bottle, unlikely

to be found except on some

distant shore.

Dig me now, or, dig me up...

later. 

Look! I'm a time Capulet!

Too lazy even to commit

suicide...not even enough

intention for that. Just

another forgotten Yorick:

"He had a great sense of 

humor, although I can't

prove that."

Need To Know

I know I don't know

all that I knew.

I know I only know

what I need to know 

now.

Much of what I knew 

I didn't need to know.

I'm glad I know that 

now.

I knew so much I didn't

know what I really knew.

It took a lot of unknowing

to know what I really 

needed to know, 

which I do 

now.

I'm on a basis of need to

know now.

That's all you need to know.

New Day

Rise up into new day.

If you have freedom,

use it to help others.

In this degenerate age

true rulers, the ones 

with the biggest hearts

the ones with the 

clearest minds

the ones who fought

for the benefit of all

the heros you only see

now in cartoons

the sages, the wise men

you could trust with your

children

are as rare as stars in

the daytime.

Trust your own heart

and what it tells your mind.

Don't listen to the white noise

the tsunami of nonsense

the mental chains forged

to imprison beyond bars.

Understand that there is a thing

called common sense

basic goodness

that we know instinctively

when we see it

in the policeman

in the stranger

in the doctor

in the grocery clerk.

Wake up to what's been lost

in the industrial revolution

industrial war

industrial social engineering

industrial education.

Moloch...the embodyment

of corporations as people...

how much do you need to 

know in order to see?

First you have to look,

then you can see.

If you don't look you'll fall

into a manhole with your ipod.

Don't hide from the madness.

If there's an obstacle, go around.

Open your eyes,

it's a new day.

"Everybody's got a Big 'But....'."

Pee Wee Herman

Just A Hunch

Poems about getting old are getting old.

Besides, it's about starting over, getting

young again in different form. How do I

know? Just a lucky guess that I followed

the life I did in the first place. How did I 

know to take the road I took...just a hunch

I guess, but, it worked for me. Those that

take chances in this life must have lived 

before....will again 'till they get it right.

Replay is not a thing of the past. 

Fiesta

It's here

a new Fiesta again

like waking when I was ten

walking outside to oak trees

fresh grassy air so present

there was no other time

at that time.

No future now that I'm old,

ten again, walking out onto 

the dirt and the street, another

now again in the momentary

fiesta, vendors setting up tents,

air perfumed with sweat and

lack of pretense, seeing and

nodding to each other as if 

we were never ever anywhere 

else. Simple as it could be...

simple as it was before caught

in the trap of believing in a 

future that never could be but

suddenly rushing forward for

years to some idea of destination

caught up in the human waterfall

of shouldn't we, not knowing what

we had forgotten in the swirl of 

events that seemed like a good 

idea at the time, but led to nothing

more than missing the point of why

we were there in the first place,

where we first were when we did

smell the air. felt the space, saw

what was here, when we were alive

for the first time. 

Back to that, the same as when 

I left it, and where have I been all 

this time? In someone else's dream?

It couldn't have been mine. 

What's God Got To Do With It?

I live behind a Mexican Catholic church.

Their patron Saint is Saint Sebastian....

depicted as a guy tied up on a pole, 

pierced by a dozen or so arrows. It would

seem he had it even worse than Jesus,

though, I don't know if he gets more points

for that. 

They're having a benefit concert for the 

church, a kind of dance party, charging

a decent fee. It's preceded, like everything

Mexican church, with lots of loud explosions,

ariel bombs. They placed fifteen feet high

slats in front of the iron fence, so that folks

couldn't watch the show from the street.

Why, I have no idea. If they'd blocked out 

the sound, that would have been great, 

because that would mean I'd be able to get

some sleep tonight. As long as I can hear 

the music, I'll be dancing in the street, 

because, unless they have strippers, I don't

really care what the band looks like. I really

don't understand how having the slats up is

going to entice more people to pay the fee

and come into the church grounds. Maybe

they reason, like all things church, that, if it

seems somehow forbidden, more people

will be tempted to do it...which, to me, seems

to go against the basic principles of church,

but also means that they are fully aware of 

the business that they are in. And what any 

of this has has to do with God in the first

place is beyond me. 

Star Wars

Went to the movie with my two Jew Buds

B. and L., I Max theatre in Cuernavaca.

After we bought tickets for the next show 

in two hours, we took a chance and walked

into the first restaurant we came to, Chinese

in menu, and had a really nice meal. Before

I ate, I took some Ecstasy, and had some 

quite decent ribs...L. too...B went for the 

chicken. B. and I went outside before the 

movie, where he got stoned and I was just

coming on after the ribs. L. was the straight

man. We sat down for the movie and had to 

endure damned commercials too long...but

B. dug them. Then there were four previews

of new movies, all based on comic books. 

I kept leaning over to B. with the comment 

"small screen", because they were just too 

much. The movie started and then I'm not 

sure what happened. I have lazy eye and 

am used to seeing reality in 2-D, but we had

these 3-D glasses, which I put over my glasses,

which were a little difficult to manipulate, and,

because the action was so fast and furious

and f'ing HUGE, it was all a bit overwhelming.

The film was well wrought, with usual plot

predictability, but seeing some of the original

characters back in action after 30 years was

entertaining. It seems like ecstasy is not a

great drug to watch a movie on. I felt mellow

for sure...but B. was giggling his ass off in

stoned goofiness, so, he seemed to have the

best time  L. kept nudging me from time to time

to accent the action, but I never could be sure 

what he was referring to. For me, the drug was 

somewhat wasted in the context. But we all felt 

very amenable, and got home just fine, but I 

probably would have had a much better time just

sitting around with the dudes and talking. It was 

the first movie I'd seen on the big screen in a long 

time and I  Max, no less. I know the movies these 

days just seem to get intenser and intenser and 

have to be, I guess, for the public's jadedness 

factor, but, for me, it was just a bit too much.

Not Guilty

I'm old, so, I don't have

to feel guilty about not doing 

anything. For one thing, there

isn't much I'm able to do any

more. Also, I've done pretty

much what I wanted and or

intended to do, so my bucket

list is pretty empty. Who says

old age is a bad time? Sure,

there's death and all, but who

says death is the end of anything

more than whatever act of the

play we're in? I love getting up,

walking slowly to the coffee house

to see if anyone is there.

Two Buddhists Walk Into A Bar

Two old guys walk into a bar,

Rab, and Jirt. They sit at a table

and order drinks. Jirt says to Rab:

"What do you want to talk about?"

Rab replies: "Nothing." So they 

drink their drinks at slow normal 

speed, not speaking. Every few

minutes, one of them laughs, 

which provokes a laugh out of 

the other one. Neither of them

has spoken. They work their

way through two or three drinks 

like this. It's a quiet bar, so a few 

people notice this odd behavior.

The bartender, a gregarious sort,

finds it particularly unnerving. He 

goes over to them when he's 

having a lull in the serving. He 

speaks to them:

"I notice that you guys aren't 

talking to each other, but every

once in a while, one of you laughs, 

and then the other does. Do you 

mind if I ask, what's that all about?"

Jirt responds: "We're having a 

conversation about nothing."

The bartender, Bill, says: "But, 

neither of you has said a word."

Rab says: "What part of nothing

don't you understand?"

Two New York Jews Meet In Mexico For The First Time

I was in the coffee house with my 

friend, B., who grew up in Connecticut, 

and my friend, L., who grew up in Rhode

Island, joined us at the table. Ok, ok!

Neither was from New York, but they 

might as well could have been!

Anyway, when they recognized that they

were with each other, (they'd never met),

It was as if I had become a vague 

memory in front of them. They began 

talking to  each other intently, but I 

couldn't quite hear what they were 

saying...or, maybe it was that I couldn't 

understand what they were talking about,

as if they'd suddenly clicked into a secret 

genetic language, or, that they were 

reliving memories of the diaspora in code. 

They kind of melted into the same body

language: arms crossed on the table, 

slightly hunched, leaning a bit forward,

like gorillas that had been separated in 

the zoo at some point, but immediately

recognized each other after a separation

of ten years. They were catching up on 

experiences that they never had together,

but each, in their own lives, had had 

similar experiences. You could see the 

"oys" and the "veys" as invisible 

parentheses. I had the blood of a Jew, 

but not the culture. No wonder they were

called a "lost tribe", because it seemed

that they had recognized that they had

found each other. I couldn't join in, 

because I was no longer relevant. 

Quote

“Psychedelics are illegal not because a loving government is concerned that you may jump out of a third story window. Psychedelics are illegal because they dissolve opinion structures and culturally laid down models of behaviour and information processing. They open you up to the possibility that everything you know is wrong.”
– Terence McKenna

“If the words ‘life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness’ don’t include the right to experiment with your own consciousness, then the Declaration of Independence isn’t worth the hemp it was written on.”
-Terence McKenna

http://www.zengardner.com/73-mind-blowing-terence-mckenna-quotes/

Vote Trump!

He's an unknown...and that's

a good thing. The knowns are

the reasons why less than half

of Americans voted in the last

election! It's common sense.

Don't let another common

criminal with credentials get in

the White House! Wake up

America! You may not like 

some things Trump says...but,

at least he's not a liar as far

as we've seen. Get mad at

government as usual!

Vote for Trump

Poem For Lee

Axioms:

1. It's better to get a little

of something good than

nothing at all.

2. It's better to get nothing

at all than something bad.

You didn't tell me the music

didn't start 'till nine thirty.

I got some peanut M&Ms

and went home.

All I got from the evening

was a nice walk, and this

lousy poem. (Oh, and the

M&Ms).

What Do I Have To Do To Get Your Attention?

Surely, (don't call me that) it wouldn't 

last long...I mean, my God; twitter, 

tweet, boop bop beep. Politically

correct? You have to understand 

what some one's actually saying, 

which has nuance, slang, flavor, 

idiom, without which language 

just devolves into Newspeak...

no thank you!  Body language!

Yes! That includes the finger!

That's the only way I can tell if

a driver is from New York City!

When they execute me, I'm not

going to say: "Well, that's not what

I would have done..." No, baby,

they get the finger! It's so much more

susphincter! Wake up, ya morons!

You're not "mentally challenged"!

Saying that makes you look stupid!

No wonder comedians won't play at

colleges! No fucking sense of humor!

Maybe that goes along with not 

getting a real education! George

Carlin said he never got sick because

he swam in a polluted river!

You don't "evolve" into something

that's not real! Take the plastic off!

Pick your nose in front of a crowd!

The ones that don't turn away are

your friends! Real people! There!

I've said too much!

Haiku After Reading Issa

It's chilly tonight...

no fire warms my little room,

so, one more blanket.

Squirrels, dogs, on the roof

dancing over my ancient head,

not loud like fireworks.

I've juggled my life

between joys and tragedies...

"Good job", still, sadness.

No more drinking, no

more sake, I've had enough:

get high on what's here.

The church bells don't sound

as loud as they used to...my

hearing is fading.

Read Issa tonight...

his mind was part of nature...

dogs under the moon.

Wassa Matter, Ya Mary, No Sense Of Humor?

Got hit by the card info thieves,

the first time in ten years of living

in Mexico. 

My bank caught it, but now 

I need a new card...inconvenient

to say the least.

Little me, caught in the web of

worldwide corruption. I should have

prepared, if not for the worst, the

probable bad.

My landlord, my grocer, will give

me time and credit...they're still

good humans. I live in a place

where there still are some. They

live in Mexico, so, they know 

about suffering....

not just waiting for days in line

to see Star Wars...

not just feeling bad because

their cell phones are out of date...

not just because they broke a

fingernail.

They've seen dead people,

blood running in the streets
for generations.

Welcome to the Third World,

America.

A Brand New World Religion

A brand new world religion is just

coming into being!

It doesn't even have a name yet!

A contest will be forthcoming to 

give it one!

We do know many things about it 

already, however....

No cats (because no catechism)..

No dogs (because no dogmas)

and no tantrums (because no tantra)

will be allowed! 

We will be the First religion, because

we will have more beliefs than any other...

more than all combined!

We promise a new belief weekly!

A Lazy Susan of Symbolism!

Also, No Worries! We won't take any

of our beliefs seriously!

Our Leaders will pose to the congregation

a variety of confusing and unanswerable 

questions...No Worries! They won't be 

very interesting!

No guilt! No sin! No penance! No Heaven!

No Hell! No Worries!

When we pray, we find we are talking to

Ourselves!

Life after death is what you make of it!

Our Congregation is All of Humanity!

You can't be Excommunicated!

You can Unsubscribe, but you can't hide!

We bring the fun into Religfun!

Coming Soon!

Anti Holiday Rant

I'm glad the holidays are over.

Why do we have them?

"Well, it's a tradition, you know,

we've always done it..."

Christmas?

It's only been a tradition for no more

than a couple of hundred years...

that's not exactly always.

And, what's the point of it?

To have something at a certain time

of year that we always do?

Native cultures also had traditions:

"We've always planted corn this way.

at this time, because we know the corn

always grows then, and then we get food."

That's a tradition that makes sense.

Or, say, having a feast at a certain time 

of year to recognize the passing of season

and the start of a new cycle...

acknowledging a truth about time: that 

it's cyclical...that also makes sense.

The solstice makes more sense as the

beginning of the New Year, because

that's when the Sun cycle begins again.

Saying that the New Year begins on

midnight, December thirty first, is simply

arbitrary, unconnected with any real earthly

event.

I think that's why Santa Claus has become

prominent at Xmas, and why the 

Easter Bunny is as important as the 

resurrection: because someone, somehow,

couldn't stand the arbitrary disconnectedness

of the sanctioned events, and had to make 

fun of them. At least, that's what I would, 

and do, do.