Afternoon Of A Faun And Everything Else

Emotional sensuous music

using sound to evoke feeling...

a human did this.

No other species could have

done this music better, so, it's

something of the best humans

are capable of.

Does that mean we're worth 

saving? Or, now that The White

Album has been remastered, 

and the Alpha Centaurians have

it, (along with everything else

humans have created)

we can go now?

Or, are they waiting because the

human mind is creating all over

the place, and someone might 

just write, sing, dance that final

objective correlative that sums

up what we humans have been

up to for the last twenty thousand

years or so in a five minute show

and tell? 

That would be cool.

I taste it now in Debussy...I smell 

it in Eliot...feel it in Bukowski...

touch it in Dali...hear it in Fenninger

and Ernst...see it everywhere.

Bohemian

Coffee, at the computer, slightly 

high, messy desk, prepared for

the end.

"Jar of Flies", continuity of mood,

smoke rising, words emerge, why

is not a good question.

Ready to slip-slide through the

apocalypse if it happens soon,

bored with the election, Broncos

tomorrow, as if it's the same as 

it ever was.

Bleached out by life, dark clothes

to point out what form is left 

standing, all that effort not for

nothing, a child will still smile at me.

Conspiracy is interesting, so many 

people, might as well be some, all

talking at once, screaming on the

internet, keeps 'em busy.

If these words can arise, how can

the universe not be teeming with life?

It wasn't the world that was flat,

it was your head...

....same as it ever was.

Chogyam Trungpa

We all knew he was the Buddha. We 

didn't know what the Buddha was, what

he would be like in person, but what came

out of his mouth seemed to be the purest,

most digestible truth, and we knew it was

Buddhism, so, we could draw no other

conclusion. 

And, he practiced what he taught with us,

as a friend and a lover, meaning in real,

direct human relationship. So, what else

could he be?

We really didn't talk about that much...it

was understood. It was more what he said,

what he did, that we were more interested

in exchanging information about. Even more,

we discussed what he was explaining as

Dharma. 

We were thirsty for the truth, raw and open.

He was like a samurai surgeon, cutting and

nurturing at the same time, kind and 

terrifying, because ego was always exposed 

when he was around.

Time and space manifested differently

around him. A couple of times when he 

was giving a talk, I experienced the whole

room turning golden. I know one other person

who experienced the same phenomenon.

Yeah, that was him, and we went with it. If

he had been Jim Jones we'd have been 

screwed....luckily, he was Buddha.

Indestructible

...because so nonexistent

therefore,

the joke nothing played on you

in spite of

banana peel,

pissing on yourself,

love affair,

career, 

everything you

hold dear

trapped in headlight

memory of that one time

you didn't pay attention...

no, no, that's just

your life,

this life....

we're talking about something

that never happened in the first place.

That's a good joke.

Broken Line

No one told me I could get 

from there to here...there seemed

no way. 

So, I stumbled quickly forward,

falling out of trees, 

into concrete basements,

avoiding the spaces between

the know-it-all's ears,

Tarzaning my way, clinging to

one temporary line after the other,

letting go as I went along,

finding the real continuity of mind,

threading space.

Poem About Nothing

How am I doing so far?

The undergrowth is overgrown.

but, let's not talk about that now.

I think I'll watch some cars drag

racing today...nothing like the dream

of heavy machinery and gasoline.

Maybe I'll go to the Club 

and club a few. Maybe I could

take a photograph of a mountain.

Who will keep my snap shots

when I let them go, when they look

at the picture of some smiling face

they never knew? I won't care then.

The weather's changing again, as it

always mockingly does...laughing

into tears of rain. A volcano would 

be too much declaration 

announcement

reminder.

"Why can't we all just get along?"

I want to punch that guy,

fly away in a balloon, 

walk into the ocean,

throw my computer

away......

but even that doesn't happen.

Ode To Charles Bukowski

How can I write an ode to you?
It would sound like I was talking
dirty underwear,
scratching my balls,
opening a pack of Luckies.
popping the cap on a Tall Boy,
boy, and taking that first long pull
....ahhhhh!

Ode To Captain Beefheart

Your patterns defy

patterning...

     pity-pattering

of tiny neon feet

      no-mattering

of convenient conventioning

(an odd ode surprise why not)

just to show us rules are

expedient/not to be trusted

as well as      tickle

our    tinkle

tinsel

         confetti

                     laughing

gonzo

             ears.

If I Were Donald Trump

If I were Donald Trump, I would take,
in part, the positions herein stated, as if
I were giving an opening statement in a
debate with Hilary Clinton:

I want to be your president. The question is:

why?  

I realize I've said some things in a way that

has put some people off. I realize that I've

shown my anger at the way America has been

going quite a bit. But I've never lied to you,

my fellow Americans, and I've tried to speak 

the truth about the direction America is 

heading and what I feel..and what many 

Americans, my supporters, feel... needs to 

change. Beneath the anger I feel is a sadness,

that this great country, which has been so good

to me, is going in a direction detrimental to it's

citizens. And, it's true I am not a politician, but,

what I am is a successful business man and a

great negotiator. 

Not being a politician is an advantage, I would 

say. If we just go back to the Iraq war, we see 

that it was a lie....no weapons of mass 

destruction. It was a lie supported by one of

my detractors...Colin Powell...who said I wasn't

fit to be president. Then, there were the lies of 

Mr. Obama, who didn't get us out of Guantanamo,

whose promise of "affordable healthcare" turned

out to be not true (fill in more lies here.) So, if

lying is a prerequisite of the presidency, I say,

vote for Mrs. Clinton. She'll make a great

"Liar In Chief". She has decades of experience

in just that. (list of Hillary's lies?)

Americans have less faith in government than

ever before. The reason is obvious...what I've 

just said: you've been lied to for years and 

you're sick of it. If you elect me, I will always

tell the truth as I see it. Some of you won't agree

with my point of view, and that's fine...we can 

have a national discussion about things that we

disagree on. At the present, there is no discussion...

it's all lying explanations, distraction, deflecting

attention. And that will only continue and grow if

Mrs. Clinton is elected president. Your jobs will

continue to disappear....Muslim radicals will

continue to infiltrate our country...quality of life

will continue to diminish (more here).Mr. Powell

called me an "international pariah". Mr. Putin

doesn't agree. Is Mr. Putin our adversary?

Perhaps. Could we work together to create a 

safer world? Well, not if our president is 

incapable of negotiation...if she dismisses him

before she even has a chance to speak with him.

And that's just one example of how Mrs. Clinton

is certain to fail as president. She is already a 

failure as Secretary of State...one reason is 

putting American secrets in a place where they

can, and probably have, been uncovered by

our adversaries. (more here). Is this who you

want to be your president? A proven failure?

Realization Blues

Woke up in the morning...

I was all alone...

I realized everyone was gone,

now I'm on my own.

I thought I had to make the grade,

get the money,

everything would fall in place.

I tried and failed, then realized

it wasn't my godamned race.

All the people everywhere

think they're getting somewhere...

I realized that was nowhere...

that's when I found it here.

Alone, for sure, 

no one likes a loser.

But winning isn't everything...

it all turns out the same.

On the bottom, I realized the top

wasn't far away...I could love life

just the same. No one can take that

away from me. No one needs

to know my name.

All you people, listen to me...

making it in Hollywood isn't love,

It really isn't even life, you see,

it's only tragedy.

Donald Trump or Hillary?

Hillary is falsity,

Trump bellows truth.

Realize her lies...

don't let her hope-a-dope.

Give the red faced baboon

a chance. His ego is too big

to fail.

Unstance

Don't tell me this just now just happened,

because, right now, is it the same thing?

Nothing happens because the results are

eventually lost in time. There is only

circumstantial proof that anything has

happened. The fact that there is only

circumstantial proof that UFOs exist, 

that they appear and disappear, is an

indication of a higher degree of mastery

over phenomenon than humans have.

Maybe they know nothing ever happens.

Taking a stand is declaring that you think

something is real and substantial...

especially weird if it's a thought or belief.

Like a rattle snake handler, we believe 

we won't get bit, that we are protected.

At least, that's the dream.

The timelessness of the present moment

is all we can know. It is connected to the

past and future, but it is neither of those.

If the past is still happening, it's happening

now. If the future is to happen, it starts now.

Stasis gives time a chance to ripen. That's 

called "the accomplishment of all actions."

Time and space ripen together because

they are not separate things. Beings are

also space.

The other part of experience...the part we

tend not to be aware of....is emptiness. 

Emptiness is the part of experience that

provides the space for experience. If 

everything was real, nothing would change.

Instead, change always is happening, 

because emptiness means that things get

real only momentarily. The sidewalk we hit

when we jump from the building won't 

always be there. The earth won't always be 

there. How many times has the Big Bang

happened? 

linear time is a hoax that solidifies our

experience of time so that our lives can

have some continuity...some meaning.

All the wise men know that if time shows 

anything, it shows that experience is 

cyclical. That's why when a calligrapher

makes a circle, it includes everything.

"What goes around comes around" is a

common phrase when things don't go our

way. When we do reach our goal, it's never

what we thought it would be like because

mental constructs never jibe with reality. 

We want to know, but we feel we're missing

something, which is the emptiness. When 

we can experience the emptiness as well 

as the impermanent, relative reality, the

picture begins to clarify. The only thing we 

have to conquer is the certainty of our own

minds.

Don't Try

Either do it or don't.

"You'd better jolly well do it!"

Failure is just another form.

I'm not really sure of that...

but I'm just having fun.

I've gotten most of it off my 

chest. I've done it...lots of

times. And you never know,

at the beginning of anything,

what's really happening...

that's why exactly you need

all of your senses.

Why try when "try" means fear

of failure, and many times,

presupposes it?

Knowing you're going to die, 

like for the Samurai, helps, 

I hear.

Even if you succeed, 

nothing happens.

I Want Poignant, But I Feel Too Groovy

I want poignant.

but I feel too groovy...

I don't care about my career...

Let's just say I did what I did.

and forget about it.

It wasn't worth the fuss and bother.

I can't make up for it,

there's nothing I can do...

we'll have to make the best of it...

isn't that what we do?

Well, I do....good luck to you....

pay attention to the signs,

don't be a chump and believe....

and try to rock and roll.

Haiku 667

Beautiful outside

I live in a paradise...

this knife sharp enough?

The Second World War

would have destroyed Russia, but,

too many people.

My friends, where are they?

Right there, in the Tamasha...

you can just see them.

You see? Not so hard.

Writing Haiku! So much fun!

(Don't tell my parents)

Screaming at the world:

"Wake up, you bunch of losers!"

echoes off brick walls.

Ry Cooder playing

happy blues if that can be...

so little brings joy.

Meatball in the fridge...

fresh pack Delicados...here...

take a break now, God.

Day Tripper #2

It started at breakfast,

gangbusters with the huevos 

Mexicana....hard but easy 

getting home. My dear friend 

going through hell with a woman.

All the people I know, it's never 

any other way. My friend, Binny,

just died. Lost both of his legs

in a skiing accident in his twenties.

Managed to have a positive life

from a wheelchair. Humans can be

amazing. What's happening to our

species? What's happening to the 

world? Is anybody paying attention 

beyond their little lives? Did we 

have a few disco years and now it's

just a matter of survival? How 

quickly things can change. Of course,

being old, it seems like it took no time

at all....the Sixties are a cherished

memory. From about '75 on 'til the

World Trade Center collapsed was 

a busy time and a fruitful time, but

the details are unclear at this point.

I'm glad I'm old, that I don't have to

be too concerned about the next

fifty years. There are too many old 

people. The Boomers drove the

culture in the Sixties, and, now that

we begin to be aged, testosterone

therapy has taken the importance 

away from the next big rock and 

roll group  coming out of San 

Francisco. And those artists used to

speak to what was happening at the

time..."For what it's worth"...A lot of

people woke up from the American 

Dream at that time. Now, entertainment

has no other message than distraction

and "Lethe"ergy. ...the river you float

on in order to forget what's really going 

on.

So, yes, old people. I'm pretty much 

done with what I had to do in life. I 

know that because I've been paying 

attention....not because of any greatness

of my own. No, it was simply a matter

of paying attention in order to survive,

meaning not getting lost in the bullshit.

Now, my teacher was as enlightened as

Buddha himself. He had maybe five 

thousand students...tops. Buddha had a

great influence on half of the world. My

teacher, brought up as a Lama, studied

western culture at Oxford and knew the

Western mind, only attracted that many

students. A less auspicious time in human

history? I think we could safely say that.

Straight to the heart...discovered when 

no one is looking. 

So, again, as I have used this life 

imperfectly, yet learning with every 

misstep, I wouldn't mind giving up my 

place on this earth so that younger minds

with more energy can work to save 

themselves and the planet. I don't want to 

take up more of their resources when I've

already had my day. But I do think a lot....

many...old people even more useless than 

I am with knowledge and compassion for the

world...should volunteer to get out of the way

with me. It might be the best thing some of 

them have done in their whole lives. 

I had a great life...at least, that's what I feel 

now. And I was fortunate enough to find my

own way, not listening too much to what the

"adults" had to say. 

So, now, chemically blissed. looking out my

window at my yard, which I can't see beyond

because of it's filling the space in front of me

completely with green of bushes and trees,

bougainvillea, butterflies and colored birds.

Where else do I want to be? Even though there

are other beautiful places in Mexico, I have no

urge to see them. I've found my place. I knew

that the first days I was here, crying in the

restaurant and not knowing why. Some magic 

of some sort? Well, if you knew my teacher,

you wouldn't necessarily see it as magic. On the

other hand, you could call it "ordinary magic".

“In many shamanic societies, if you came to a shaman or 

medicine person complaining of being disheartened, 

dispirited, or depressed, they would ask one of four questions. 

When did you stop dancing? When did you stop singing? 

When did you stop being enchanted by stories? When did 

you stop finding comfort in the sweet territory of silence? 

Where we have stopped dancing, singing, being enchanted 

by stories, or finding comfort in silence is where we have 

experience the loss of soul. Dancing, singing, storytelling, 

and silence are the four universal healing salves.” 

- Gabrielle Roth

Clown Haiku/Koan

I dress as a clown.

Sooner or later someone's

gonna laugh out loud.

Coffee? (for Daniel)

If we were having coffee together

in Tepoztlan,

all kinds of people walking by,

it would be a miracle

to be with you.

You, such a part of my life,

so apart from my life...

what would we say?

I would start:

"Life, such a hapless mess

for hopeless people."

I don't know what you would say.

I think you would be animated

in discussion. I don't hear your

words, but I see you gesture

with your hands.

Do you take sugar with your coffee?

There would be many tiny surprises

and revelations.

As much of a miracle as life itself

to see you. Better than God, at least,

I know you are somewhere. I don't

miss you because we've never

been together.

You, Monica, the others, a secret stash

of great people. thriving in the good work

of telling the truth...in Romania, of all

places....who knew? The world is stupid

if it doesn't pay attention.

If we were having coffee, I could offer you

a cinnamon roll. All I can offer now is

words of my life.