Synced

Synced with the music,

the sickness,

the medicine, 

the weather,

the empanada,

the moment,

the schedule.

What, me worry?

Not until I lose my balance,

which is always inevitable.

At this juncture, I feel like

when I was young and immortal.

Enjoying because not afraid of losing.

Blissful in eternal now.

Whatever arises is confetti.

Kokoro-no-hana!

Excelsior!

Meat Dream

“I am a shape that can but eat and turd,”

eecummings

I used to play with my meat…my meat

used to love to play.

No one wants to eat or play with old meat.

Call me road kill, might as well.

I’m just waiting for my ditch at the side of the road.

I’m still talking, talking meat, although,

I don’t have much to say.

The Harpies, flies buzzing around in my room,

are my interpreters.

Humorous, the men in three piece suits…

thinking they’re something more.

Tragic, the carnage in the fields of war,

meat laid bare.

Ozymandias, the symbol of the outcome

of all of meat’s dreams, futility of complexity,

of all who walk on stalks of bone.

Steak tartar, I serve myself to others, though

their interest is rare.

I’ve been cooked, I’m done, life’s oven

has done its job on me, baked my mind

into a meat soufflé, tasty, but not for everyone.

So now, my empanada, ham and cheese,

meat meets me so I dream another day.

Optical Delusions

Looking at the world through rose colored glasses.

Mistaking a rope for a snake.

Captivated by sleight of hand magic show.

Mirage of a lake in a desert is a cruel joke.

The spectacle of a Hitler rally hides the truth.

Politicians dressed in Armani suits camouflage lies.

Distracted by smoke and mirrors, shiny objects.

Beauty is only skin deep.

The fisherman’s lure deceives the fish.

Madison Avenue tells us what we want,

is in control,

is a synonym for all religions,

believing in something we’ve never seen.

The man behind the curtain tells us what is true.

It’s better to show the truth rather than use words.

Seeing what’s actually there is not believing.

Brief Encounter (with apologies to Basho)

An old man sits quietly.

A stranger butts in…

the sound of their laughter.

(two distinct clocks

suddenly agreeing 

on a fictional hour.

a graft of unrelated stems

blossoming magically 

into a single wild bloom)

Two solitudes dissolve

waking into the cosmic joke

of ever having been apart.

A passing dog barks at their commotion:

the absolute laughing back

at its own punchline.

The Big Picture

Closest to the truth. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=naS-JE45uEo

Enough

I’ve had enough of this world.

Enough Disneyland pedophile monsters,

enough politicians out for themselves,

enough posers in their plumage,

enough people lost from the get go.

Feel me?

No one is in control.

This world is organized chaos.

The pyramid scheme is enormous.

Fighting for fame and power like

fighting for scraps in the gulag,

same principle…the Homosap

isn’t evolving…he’s just proliferating.

A correction is just a matter of time…

and time is short.

The Sumerians said eight billion people 

is the limit, when things change…

we’re almost there.

Can you feel it, Dave?

Many do…that’s why there’s so much

uncertainty.

“The times are a changing” is not just

about politics anymore.

Ask yourself why billionaires are

building bunkers, 

why new weapons continue to be developed, 

why war is still a thing.

Some see A.I. as the Deus Ex Machina.

Some see it as doom.

No one really knows, but they keep going

at it.

Someday soon we’ll know.

I’m not looking forward,

not wanting to be around,

not hopeful humanity will find the answer.

I’ve found the nature of mind,

what people are looking for but don’t know it,

like forgetting their glasses are on their forehead.

It’s so simple, that’s why people aren’t interested.

Complexity is the god they worship,

all the bells and whistles, shiny objects,

anything to distract from basic existence.

I’m so tired of all that.

Maybe after Armageddon life will go back to

simplicity, and start the saga over again.

Until then, all we can do is hope and fear,

or have something nice to drink,

and forget about the whole thing.

Limbo

Smoke rises from various sources.

Waiting for a bus or a facsimile thereof.

Contemplating like waiting for Godot,

like waiting to charge into battle,

like waiting for the hospital test results,

like waiting for the scores of an exam.

In Mexico much time is spent waiting.

Fiestas happen because they can’t spend

their whole lives waiting for what may

never happen.

It’s a country waiting to function properly.

I’m not waiting for that.

I’m waiting for news that may be good,

in limbo like Mexico nonetheless.

I think Mexico will have longer to wait.

They’re quite good at it.

I’ve gotten much better since I’ve lived here.

I think they’re on to something.

They could teach a thing or two about fiestas;

enjoying life while they wait.

Red, blue green, turquoise, teal, amber,

smoke offerings to the gods,

up a lazy jazz river,

word offerings to the reader,

the connection,

the world we share,

paradise we don’t have to wait for.

Cusp

Thumbs up or thumbs down?

I’ll know very soon.

Then the rest of my future 

will fall into place, stay on 

or get off the merry go round.

Everyone will see this day.

The sidewalk is still solid

under my butt, 

at least for now.

Sometimes you wonder if

any of it’s real.

Did we really have past lives?

Did we really live this one?

Ask Mike Tyson what he thinks

of his belts.

I guess winning the Olympics 

wasn’t enough for Bruce Jenner.

Do you think they had a moment when

they thought: “What have I done?”

Karma will judge, 

cause and effect, simply that.

One thing leads to another.

That’s how we got where we are.

You can change it all if you 

have the time and the will.

Milarepa killed dozens of his relatives,

yet he still got enlightened.

Of course, he had to spend most of his

life in a cave.

He wanted it pretty bad.

I spent my life on the Buddhist path.

I know the words and some of the sense.

My karma is like a runaway freight train 

that won’t stop ‘till it runs out of track.

I’m just along for the ride.

Words Are Like The Breath

Words are like breathing,

going out with the breath.

It’s better to breathe and

not say too much. Imagine 

what you could see if you

just breathed and looked.

I have to repeat myself like

the breath that’s how we learn.

They say, breathe easy, don’t 

hyperventilate, be chill.

Not many clouds floating by

in the afternoon sky.

Someone that reads this won’t 

know if it’s by some guy or A.I.,

the out breath of the internet.

You can see the smoke from a

cigarette, 

but that’s only an afterthought 

after shock

denouement 

going to the refrigerator to see

if there’s any pizza left…that’s 

all the internet is.

It only confirms what you already know.

Otherwise, you’d never turn it on.

Brought to you by The Council For Sane Living,

by The Coalition Of Funny People

by The Dead Poet’s Cafe,  N.Y.C.

Anyplace not Washington, D.C.

Blogger

Blogging along…

how ya doing?

Seen any good memes lately?

Keeping up with events?

I’ve run out of ideas.

I’ve run out of clues.

I wish I’d run out of karma,

but that doesn’t seem to be the case.

This is me running out of writing.

This is me waiting for the executioner

the executive decision.

This too is life.

The truth is not my decision or my fault.

At least there’s that.

“Hustlers of the world, 

there is one Mark you cannot beat.

That’s the Mark inside.”

William S. Burroughs 

Portrait Of The Artist As An Old Man

Maybe I’ll just lie here and look pretty

start some music as the chainsaws start

outside fitting bookends to my experience 

at this time of change don’t we all feel it…

moving along…

…can’t say moving forward yet because 

everything is so NOW in medias res/ in

the middle of things/reality is starting to

look different and that will only increase.

It’s interesting I wonder if I’ll be around

to see it you could die 

walking your doggie.

Meanwhile, there’s beauty in the now.

There never was anything else.

Weather Report

A white butterfly, a “servietta” (napkin)

against a layer of lazy white clouds while

I listen to X22 Report for the latest news

about the counter insurgency, truth at the

end of all the eras, burn bags, Seth Rich,

you name it, it was revealed before and 

now. 

Meanwhile, outside, distant rumblings

always during rainy season I love the

coolness and sky drama since I was a kid.

Me? I’m a nervous wreck…I’ll tell you 

later.

“There’s always a strategy behind all of it.”

This movie’s gone on long enough.

You (I) can feel the tension as the truths start

to come out and the strain on the forces holding

back what seems inevitable, an historic tsunami…

if A. I. doesn’t take control of us all…

tune in next week to: 

“Tom Swift and his Universal I.D.!”

“Jerry Seinfeld’s cousin gets hit in the head!”

“The Deep State or U.F.O.’s are in control!”

Sorry to be shouting! But aren’t we all shouting?!

Something tells me it ain’t going to be an easy birth!

Home Ec.

Still trippin’ after all these years.

Still seeing the way I did years ago.

Turns out I was right, 

not that I survived.

Survival wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

Although the chimes of freedom are still flashing,

and I’m still floating eight miles high on wax wings.

We all know what happens next, but let’s not

get ahead of ourselves this moment of clarity and peace.

If you want to predict the future, look at the present.

Everything is happening somewhere at this moment.

That’s a dead horse that doesn’t need beating…

but the beat goes on…

and the spacemen are everywhere free in mind.

I don’t mind the fly in my soup.

Everything everywhere all the time,

and so you want to be a rock and roll star.

Might as well could have been.

Too late always comes up.

It’s only good to cry if you don’t have

enough duct tape.

I was so much older then,

I’m something something now.

Remolecularizing….hold…hold…

waiting for the electrician…

might as well could call it God.

Would be handy to have Him

around the house…He’s there

because He’s everywhere, now,

if He’d just fix the disposal.

Any place is good…it’s the timing

that is everything.

If I’m doomed, that’s bad timing.

If a miracle occurs, that’s quantum 

timing, auspicious coincidence,

ripening of karma, cause and effect.

I’m looking at you ‘cause you affect me.

These are words not really happening,

but I remember 

the looks I gave and got 

and what happened next,

many times for brief moments,

until now, bouquets wilted, kisses

only impressions, forgotten sensations,

and so it goes.

Ghost Anthem

Slightly haunted

by the past

a ghost of myself 

is part of my life

flickering like a light

of memory.

Things turned out ok

not for me my turn I guess

better than anguish of regret.

Life is still beautiful when

I look out the window.

The truth is never negative.

The same music plays in all

the dark taverns and bistros

drawing the same souls into

their bosoms of heart’s delight.

In a moment there is time.

I wish I was in eternity not

fastened to a dying animal,

you know?

It’s best you’re not here with me.

The song keeps singing itself 

in any case

within you and without you

an embryonic journey 

to square one 

Alpha and Omega

the beginning and end of everything.

Veteran

 “I don’t suffer from insanity…

I enjoy every minute of it.”

Sherrilyn Kenyon

A quote from a veteran.

Quite delightful really.

I enjoy my mind fer sure

quite as much in my own way.

I’m a veteran of life at least

not war I knew it was trauma

although lessons from it were

certainly valuable if you didn’t 

go all the way crazy I’ve met

some of those they aren’t having 

fun poor boys.

Veteran of life is enough other 

old fellers might agree.

I always thought avoiding war

was the best idea…certainly the

one I might have gone to Vietnam 

a phony war if ever there was one.

War lost its glamour around the

American Civil War…World War One

laid to rest the idea that war was 

anything more or less than what it was.

I’d rather you think than spell it out.

One thing it’s about is depopulation.

I think you weren’t expecting that.

The truth of history is far more astounding 

than anything you’ve ever learned.

Veterans of wars know that for sure.

I’m sure many of them are honorable.

We’ve all had our situations to deal with.

What we did is what makes us human

or fall short.

“There are two of you, don’t you see?

The one that kills and the one that loves.”

(Apocalypse Now)

Some things are worth dying for.

Even Buddha knew that.

The Gods Must Be Crazy

To continue with a previous line of reasoning.

Of course, anything reasonable would not include 

the Gods which can’t be proven or reasoned with.

This concludes this line of reasoning.

Science came out of alchemy came out of natural 

knowledge long before that…not that that’s either

here or there…”If I had not made myself perfectly 

clear, it entirely would have been not my fault.”

e.e.cummmings

as you were.

Not to get ahead of myself, if that were even possible…

reboot…

all possibilities dissolve into smoke, just as well, they’ll 

be back to terminate whatever it was they had to say.

Whatever it is is already in libraries everywhere anyway.

Nothing new under the sun they weren’t kidding.

Speaking of Gods, A.I.? But let’s not talk

about that now.

“Make a decision, just make it! Things will turn out

about the same anyway.”

There is no end…there is only the beginning 

of what came before it.

Parthenon

My room is a temple.

I can call it anything I want.

It is a temple for those that don’t worship.

It’s very exclusive because the rest of

the eight billion/odd people aren’t here.

I am their representative.

My mind is connected to all of them.

I take in all their concerns.

I breathe out peace and harmony.

It’s the least I can do.

This is my enormous room.

I included the world why not I’m here.

It helps to think bigger.

Tibetans knew/know how to work the mind itself.

Forget about me, I just live here, ask them.

I did.

It was the best thing I ever did,

and why I’m in this enormous room…

just a little spice of mystery, do you mind?

Have you gotten this far?

“If you can read this, you’re too damned close.”

“If you can read this, you’d be home by now.”

Just having a little fun with the rubes.

If you are reading this, you’re probably smart,

not that it’s any shucks, but it’s that you’re curious.

They say curiosity is the last thing to go before enlightenment.

(pause)

(dark music clarinet, sax and xylophone)

I love the clouds outside my window reminds me

of my first religious experience after church maybe 

I was seven hangover of the atmosphere of the church 

imagining God in the white voluminous clouds outside.

“There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,

than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”

There are few things in this room but as much as I need

which is more than those outside on the blue earth might say.

I’d be happy to give even them away if it was right to do.

That’s how I’m feeling right now;

feeling the music, rumblings of a distant storm, all of you 

with me…plenty of room in the mind…infinite heart…why

not?

Not a bad temple.

How I got here from where I started

is a mystery…all 

I know is

the music continues and distant thunder vocalizes.

“What syllable do you seek, Vocalissimus, 

in the distances of sleep?

Speak it.” 

(Wallace Stevens)

Rain.

Sometimes it’s good to just listen.

Merry-Go-Round

“Shall I fly away in a balloon!

Or bash my head against a stone wall?!”

Chekhov “A Marriage Proposal”

No more go-betweens.

No more Pollyannas.

No more Xmas bonus.

No more photos with the gang.

Maybe some piano music wafting

in with the breeze steady hum of fan

dogs bark in familiar knowing it allness

sinking back into/becoming the environment

losing control…

Update failed.

System failed.

Reboot failed.

You failed.

The earth failed. 

The universe failed,

but not so’s you’d know it.

Starting Over

"I 'll shout and scream and rail at all his sermons."

Street Fighting Man. Rolling Stones 

That was the sixties.

Nothing has changed.

We wait for the Golden Age

like the brass ring on the carousel.

Some people think it will happen.

Some people think something else.

We know that something is happening 

here, but we don't know what it is.

That was also said too long ago.

Meanwhile, I have my coffee.

I'm part of what's happening.

We're all connected in quantum strangeness.

Can you feel it, Dave?

I'm like Moses because I may not 

get there with you.

I'm like Nietzsche in the nut house.

I'm like Artaud crazy genius playwright.

I'm like Kerouac drunk in Mexico City.

"Where are we going?"

"Planet ten!"

"When will we get there?"

"Real soon!"

"Wandering through vast Arabies of hot

meaning, you just numbly don't get there."

Kerouac 

Back to the drawing board.

Back to square one.

Back to first thought.

The good news is you can always start over.

More Lives More Realms

Club 442 in Madison, Wisconsin…juke box

Wilbur Harrison “Kansas City”… well, I was 

half way there…local wags/hipsters from the

University/theatre/newspapers…big snow in

the winter/people bundled up in boots their

breath freezing into fog like choo choo trains

puffing as they walked up The Hill.

Portland, Oregon, a six month stint, got a job

the first day I was there, hung out in a 

McMenamin’s Pub, The Barley Mill, Grateful 

Dead décor, played pool there, made a great

bank shot on the eight ball when I was with

Anandi, daughter of a well known folk singer…

she was impressed.

There always has to be three…Tail of the Tiger

Buddhist meditation center old farm house with

hippies became excellent accommodating place

for anyone to come but it was pretty primeval 

at first….rough and tumble…Trungpa in a tie 

dyed tee shirt and straw hat.

Watching The Show

Smoke and music wafts in cartoon waves

and color in slowly moving air it’s all made

up anyway even memories the same music

played again doesn’t sound the same none

of them are as I remember them when I see

their recent photo they used to be so crisp

clean and fresh now eroded landslides of

melting clay or is it the drugs one can always 

ask.

Never mind. I’ll just be over here in the chill

tent grooving along with the other heavy trippers

waiting for another rush to pass and then

who knows just another turn of the wheel spin

of the merry-go-round always back at square one.

The sun goes round and round that’s another clue…

some like that every day is the same predictable 

comfy no shocks or surprises oh yeah but then

it isn’t. Whaddya gonna do then, Mr. Jones?

I think I need more popcorn.

Good thing my mind isn’t what it used to be,

a run away freight train sound familiar?

No, not no more, not to brag or anything…

anyone can do it, why they don’t is beyond me.

“You could die walking you doggie.”

(Pacino in Heat)

A Sampler Of Realms

Let’s see…

Eyes open slowly

cold ceiling stares back

alarm bleeds into the grey

static chokes the quiet room.

Velvet shadows swallow perfumed air

candles weep in silent prayer

welcome to the beautiful decay.

 Leather jacket, grease,

staring past the seaside pier,

engine idles loud and clear.

The world is a mirror that dawns with perception.

We creat the world we think we’re in.

How can there be anyone else to blame?

Calloused fingers trace the nylon mesh

eyes measure the low, bruising horizon…

mending for a sea that never waits.

Cracked plaster mirrors the fractured sky,

anchored by the heavy, cheap mattress

dreaming of a door that opens into a desert.

Smooth Sailing

Fishing expedition looking

for the big one.

Good weather on ocean mirror

winds sounding the depths of the sky

love has wings that always fly into the sun

just trying to have a little fun instead of 

getting distracted by the clouds on the horizon 

just another page, another layer to the drama

trauma coma comeda comedy catastrophe apotheosis 

meanwhile in the galley some ham and cheese 

I’ll listen to Dylan on the radio

and feel the breeze.