Pulpit Masters

Presidential platform a “bully pulpit”?

You don’t have to be religious 

to be self righteous.

Eternally dispensing pulpit fiction...

Al Sharpton, Martin Luther King, mixing

politics, doctrine and polemics…

even the Catholic Church supported Hitler.

Pulpit, podium, pedestal, petard;

think twice before you walk up those steps.

Busy Signal

That was Seti's "wow" moment....

the universe couldn't take the call.

That's all you get on mainstream

T.V. today.

That's what you see in so many eyes...

"I had not thought death had undone so many"...

thousand yard stare in the eyes of a child soldier.

"I almost went down like the rest." 

Visualizer

Imagine a world

classic scene

panoramic view

sublime perspective.

Imagine a time, an age, an era,

rapid earth changing events,

a new paradigm with an

evolutionary twist.

What did you come up with?

 

Midstream Crisis

 Row, row, row your boat…

too late to change your mind…

over the top, in no man’s land…

a piece of raw meat in an open field.

Somebody’s world is coming down…

someone is stuck in a revolving door…

suddenly the solid ground liquefies…

it’s happening with greater frequency.

All dressed up and no place to go.

Every time you leave your front door

the streets don’t look the same…too 

quick; can’t keep up with the change.

I’m cool…no flies on me (yet). 

I float along…call me Twiggy.

Poem 12/18/2020

 “I was a traitor on Wall Street for fifteen years.”

“Three more chakras and I get a gold star.”

“Am I crazy, or is this a crazy world we live in?”

“I’m not Liberal, Conservative, Libertarian or

Pastafarian. I’m a Biker.”

“Experience is more flavorful with a pinch of

uncertainty.”

I got up from the typewriter. Writing tropes for 

a living was a sweet gig. Word juggling….a 

little misdirection and the Rubes are hooked, 

looking for a happy ending.

I just keep walking 

on the endless forward path

uncertainty gone.

Uncertainty gone,

life and death no mystery,

smooth sailing ahead.

Maybe.

Objects In The Mirror Are Too Good To Be True

 Just out of reach like a brass ring…

just like when you saw her across the room…

just like that promised promotion…

just like a new book of poems

thrown into the marketplace…

Just like looking at an old class photo…

Just like recognizing the nature of mind.

Faux Pas-pulist

 Forget the labels.

Most of them now 

designate the opposite….

empty abstract symbols,

whilst events belie slogans

linguistic mouthwash

screaming into the microphone.

The propaganda is so thick

you could cut it with Orwells dick.

An historical hysterical re-enactment

of the Tower of Babel.

Back Flash

 Having a Sixties back flash…

not a flashback hallucination

driving ninety towards Barstow,

no, looking back and flashing on

what that time meant to me.

Consciously, semi-consciously...

intoxication stimulating memory…

listening to that music…

the smell of fresh cut alfalfa….

summer heat at night…the too

still air…crickets and owls…the

distant  freight train…

…all night at the train station

drinking communion wine, burgled

from the Catholic Church in 

Northfield…walking past dorms in

the morning  with Peter, singing out

loud and getting yelled at.

The music was a big reason why that 

time was so powerful…and, why this 

time is not, from the “waky waky, eggs 

and baky.” point of view.

…………………………………………………….

We had to backwash the filter for the 

swimming pool, to wash the crap back 

out through a drain, so, then, the filter 

would once again work effectively. 

I think LSD

did the same thing for the brain.

……………………………………………………………

Since life didn’t come with an instruction

manual, let’s face it, we’ve all been making

it up all along, or, we bought someone else’s

trip, and identified with that. Horribly simple

minded, no matter how smart we think we are.

…………………………………………………………….

That’s why we did that….uh…the Sixties

…it was the beginning of evolution therapy, 

although, we didn’t know that then. It was 

like we discovered fire, but were only vaguely 

aware of what it was for.

Simple Purity Of Timeless Awareness

 Distant truck grumble in the night

echoey doggy cacophony

reliable church bells 

interrupt thinking

and I come back to here

before complication

Eden before the apple.

We all have our own path

rut, dead end.

Change is inevitable.

Certainty pins minds down,

tries to fix the film frame,

but the projector never stops.

Just feeling the cool breeze on my skin,

fluid sounds, 

I’ll lay here in the bed, turn off the light,

fade slowly into the night,

ending without a punchline.

FURTHUR!

 (“Furthur” was the name of 

Ken Kesey’s Magic Bus.)

Furthur!

fervor!
fer shur!

excelsior!

‘nuff said!

on with the show!

one thing led to another!

childhood’s end!

the path continues!

inevitable unstoppability!

diamond view!

crystal clear!

yo mama!

yo yo from the void!

marching morons!

monsters from the Id!

poster child for what?!

history a mystery!

I’m forgotten! even by me!

Burning Man Mind!

embodiment of all the siddhas!

Monterey popsicle!

discontinuous continuity since LSD!

“modern age” was…is old age now!

evolution won’t go away!

Day Two To The Power Of Twenty

 I love it when a plan comes together.

Unfortunately, I never had a plan.

Fortunately, my intuition led the way.

At the cusp of something…

I thought the changes were over

except for death.

A renaissance? At my age? 

Can the dead be raised?

Is it never too late?

Perhaps my life is a joke

that deserves a punchline.

Perhaps Michael J. Anthony

will appear as deus ex machina

to Hollywood End this play.

The path never ends.

Nowhere To Go

 Serendipitous these last years of my life,

the last years that have been and will be.

The plan I had for life never could see

what would become of me

at the end 

when all the words have been said,

when ambition and intent peter out,

when it seems none of it mattered

all that much.

No chains to hold me, no ties that bind,

a piece of raw meat in an open field.

You want a piece of me? You can have it.

Use whatever of me you can, I’m yours!

The ultimate giveaway,

expecting nothing in return!

I’ve done it all my life and there’s 

not much left, so hurry!

Still, the children smile at my rainbow socks.

People say “Buenos dias!” to an old man

with nowhere to go…..simple magic.

Open The Doors

 Doors of perception?

Maybe.

I’m not going to bore you

with the details….

JUST DO IT!

(do what?

….nobody told me…)

I have this thing about words…

the play of words in which

the truth is revealed…..

not ideas the words convey,

but the words themselves,

innate intuition behind the words….

the SOUNDS the WORDS make…

the magic of symbol.

Don’t believe what others say,

especially now.

Open the doors of the senses and look…

then you can see.

The Great Awakening

 Buddha was called  “The Awakened One”.

He woke up from the whole illusion; the

illusion of phenomenal existence.

The great political awakening taking place now

is awakening from the illusion created by 

government propaganda and control, an

illusion of freedom, to wake up to the truth

of government by the people, a society of,

by and for the people, not the puppet masters.

It doesn’t deal with the Big Picture, 

but it’s good enough for now.

Coronacopia

 They didn’t shut down the world

for any other virus…..Europe didn’t

shut down for the Black Plague.

More people are dying from the shut down

than from the virus…what’s wrong with

this picture?

It’s a Chicken Little paradigm…

a devious device to promote control,

created in a laboratory.

What else are humans capable of?

Should we even call them human?

Don’t believe a word they say.