White Kachina

Living doll

unmasked

no joking around

in my rainbow socks,

rainbow shirt, paisley tie… 

American kachina,

mocking the hordes 

on their escalators.

Bare faced truth

warning of endemic 

emergency…

this society

already over

“Bring in the clowns!”

The future is unfathomable,

so close, yet, so far…

a snake, swallowing

it’s own tale.

Rinse and repeat,

around and around…

security is just another word

for something you don’t have.

Nightspore

Monochrome abstinence

forsaken blue gaze 

sheer shade of facade crumbles

ta da an open casket celebration

life and death meeting, as always…

a wonder we haven’t stumbled upon

the truth by now…we must be up to

an hundred monkeys computer-wise,

A.I.-wise…”you ain’t gonna learn 

what you don’t want to know.” J.G.

“the catalogue of affected homage

foxed so many books.” W.S.

Meanwhile

dreamless

clarity

simplicity

truthiness

stares you

unflinchingly

in the face.

The Last Poet

The last poet sat at his desk,

his muse on the couch, a needle

dangling out of her arm, mouth 

agape, a goner; victim of 

amusement.

Always an outlaw, dying breed,

drowning in the crap called culture

these days.

Who listens anymore, outpaced by

shills of illusion? Beauty takes

a back seat to the dazzle.

“Truth is beauty, beauty truth…”

We knew that before the confusion

of corrupt minds set into our lives;

brainwashed, heartwashed,

soulwasted, mocked by museums.

Get out there and dance, anywhere, 

anytime, before you get dragged down

like the others. Make your own noise,

sing your own songs like your ancestors

did, in spite of their struggles. 

As for me, I’ll be alone, outside the coffee

house, smiling at children, looking at the

joy of fresh lives.

Everyday People

Square one

for everyone

all start

at beginner’s mind…

makes no difference

what bag they’re in.

It’s just your ordinary, everyday
mind…

like your momma used to make

hot cookies…

dad mowed the lawn.

Burning Man Mind

is all we need.

Love is all around.

Get over yourself, and realize

you’re part of something bigger.

It’s so much more fun.

Word Bomb

Metallic fistfight

pulse racket

blood drip surreal creature

Omnivorous carnage

the circus is in town

cannibal carnies carry on

capering in the confusion

“A great order is a great disorder.”

Stevens

Chaos musters momentum

“How many tries to get it right?”

kangaroo society

“If everyone is thinking the same,

no one is thinking at all.” Patton

the nerves in patterns on a screen

you can almost hear a silent scream

wake me up when we’re over 

this dream.

Untouchable

“You can’t touch this!”

Gesar Mukpo running 

in the shrine room…

no one could touch him…

his brother didn’t come close.

Untouchable in Tepoztlan…

on the bottom of the social order…

pariah to many, 

quaint aberration to others,

recognized only by

Burning Man mind.

In London, my teacher, Trungpa,

leaned over to the man lying

in the gutter, 

covered by his own filth.

They spoke briefly, then Trungpa

and his students continued walking.

“What did he say, Rinpoche?”

asked a student.

“He said: ‘You think you’re better

than me, in your fancy clothes, but,

really we’re the same.’”

“What do you think, Rinpoche?”

“That man is enlightened.”

Untouchable.

A Chat With Eternity

I had a chat with my good friend, Eternity.

“How’s it going?”

“Like aways….you know….”

“Nothing ever changes?”

“Well, it seems to…but after a while, say 10

to the billionth power eons, it all starts to

look the same. You know what a cliche is? 

The universe begins to run out of surprises.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“There are a lot of oak trees…the leaves all 

look similar. Try to tell someone from Alpha

Centari to take out the trash.”

“Wow…that’s pretty deep.”

“No…that’s long. Space is deep.”

"Hang on to your ego."

“They come on like they’re peaceful,

but inside they’re so uptight.”

“What would you do if you lost it?”

said Chogyam Trungpa to Allan

Ginsberg, about his little box he

always carried with him, full of

important knickknacks, and  

memorabilia.

“They isolate themselves and stay

in their safety zones.”

Ego is most people’s most important

possession, and yet, it doesn’t exist.

No wonder humanity has problems,

living in a false narrative of 

misplaced concreteness.

“Hang on, but I know that you’re

gong to lose the fight.”

If egolessness dawns, all one 

can say is: “Thanks for nothing.”

Not a great incentive, and yet,

it is the only solution to the illusion.

As the comedian said: “You’d better

laugh folks, because, these are the jokes.”

Somethinglessness

Energy posing as matter...
Is it something?
The closer we get
The more that we see
It’s only a rumor.

Here Or There?

Here, there and everywhere....

why worry about a particular?

When I eat my slice of pizza,

someone burps on the other

side of the world.

A Trench Is Not A Rut

A house is not a home.

A war is going on, and

I’m entrenched, dug in,

trying to help Americans

wake up

before TSHTF.

Those in a rut so deep

they can’t see over the bank

of ignorance that comes with

a life of seeking security from

life itself

will be shocked

because everything changes

anyway…

(I had to yell at my father so

he’d listen when I told him

he was dying…once he 

realized I spoke the truth,

he thanked me and told me

he loved me. 

Can you beat that?)

The Shit Eaters

The truth is beautiful because it’s real.

There are a lot of shit eaters out there.

It seems my audience doesn’t like 

hard truth expressed in poetry;

what do they want to hear?

Lotus eaters, shit eaters, same thing…

they can’t tell the difference

between what they eat,

and the truth…very sad indeed.
That's why Odysseus's men
became pigs.

Some of my used to be best friends

are shit eaters. 

Would you hang out with someone

you loved, but ate shit all the time?

I don’t think so….you’d quickly run out

of perfumed handkerchiefs, what the 

Europeans used ’til they discovered

plumbing.

In fact, it’s the Age of shit eating.

I saw a publication, years ago, 

(this is fact), an underground sex

rag extolling the virtues of eating shit.

I know some who would want a

subscription.

The opposite of true is false.

The opposite of healthy food

is shit. So why do people eat it?

Because their heads are full of it.

I didn’t create the truth….

I just report it.