Part Two

Music cold dark sweet doom jazz mellow

like watching out the window of a diner

a few shady characters punctuate the sidewalk 

cars zoom zoom incognito splashing puddles

steam from sewer grates migrates upward

lamppost oasis in the gloomy darkness

a few diners, bars, flop houses still open

clatter, hiss, chatter, skid, curse, sing, glee

the whole place is alive but don’t 

let it get to you it flows flow with it just

don’t never get heavy with the heavies.

April 29

Or is it?

Depends on when you’re reading it.

I’m writing it now, you’re reading it now.

Is that a different now? Is it the same now?

Does it help to understand the words knowing 

when it was written?

I think not, what say you?

Have we just proven that truth is eternal in the now?

Got me?

You got me so I can’t sleep at night,

or, is that just me overthinking?

Yeah, that’s it, you don’t really got me

now, but don’t let that stop you.

Right You Are

Right you are then, anything you say…

father knows best, what? Wink wink,

nod nod…no, no need to explain…I’ll

take your word for it…you’re Aces with

me, indeed in deed…I can see by the cut 

of your jib that you’re a good feller, fine

by me. Just take off all your clothes now, and

after the cavity search you’ll be on your way.

Remembrance

Getting older, memories are the most 

of what you have

left

to hold on to if you want to hold on to

something anything it all was so real we

thought it would never end those were the

days weeks months years decades it adds up

to time passed and who cares, if your immortal,

but you’re not.

Easter Sunday and A Confession

It’s not that existence is prosaic, it’s that

we forgot what we are, got trapped in bodies 

in a confusing world. It’s what the Gnostics 

believed and practiced until they were genocided

by the Catholic Church that needed people to

believe in something so that they could maintain 

power and control.

You didn’t know?

Living your prosaic lives preferring entertainment 

over art, where the truth is revealed?

Don’t take it too hard…no one told you the truth

because they didn’t know either, so you “went on

in a fog thinking nothing had happened” until the

airplane you’re in suddenly crashes and you walk

away where others died in the wreckage, and you

think “ why me?” good question.

Without a question there can be no answer.

A Confession

I was in a play my senior year at Carleton College

in Northfield, Minnesota. I connected with a guy who

was also in the play. We decided to have an adventure 

together to solidify our friendship. A Saturday night after

the performance, we went out and started walking around 

Northfield. We were passing a Catholic Church, and we 

stopped. We had the bright idea that we would get into the

Church and steal the communion wine. We walked around 

the building and found an unlocked window. I crawled in 

and hung by my hands, my body stretched out, but my feet 

didn’t touch the floor. It was total darkness. I let go, and 

dropped to the floor only two feet below. I went upstairs 

and let my friend, Peter, in. We wen to the priest’s chambers

and looked through his robes. Then we found a refrigerator.

When we opened it, we discovered a gallon bottle of red 

wine, probably Gallo. We took the wine, left through the front

door, and went to the railroad tracks. Once we were settled, 

we proceeded to drink the wine and tell each other stories all

night.  The sun started to come up and the wine was gone, so

we walked back to the campus, arm in arm singing loudly.

As we walked down the sidewalk past some dorms, people

stuck their heads out of windows and yelled at us to be quiet,

but we kept on singing. As we past a girls dormitory, 

suddenly, the front door flung open and a naked man ran out

past us, down the sidewalk and disappeared. A girl in a robe 

came out a minute later, and we told her what we had seen.

She said the man had been hiding in her closet, and when she

opened the door, he dashed out and ran away.

That was a perfect coda to our adventure.

Post script:

I committed a crime against the Catholic Church

fifty years ago and never got caught. I’m very 

proud of that. I sometimes wonder what the priest

thought when he opened the refrigerator door that

Sunday morning.

Cosmouniversalis

I’m a man of my world with a mind of its own.

Don’t mind if I don’t mind if I do.

We live in an aftermath of so many things,

a horrible hora, dance of death, trying to 

come back, remember humanity, but evil 

hasn’t yet been defeated.

But, hey, Monkey Boy, it ain’t my fucking planet!

Pardon me, but, you are a robot, aren’t you?

“The universe wouldn’t blink if earth was destroyed.”

All the science fiction is now fact, and there aren’t 

 a lot of new ideas because the future is coming so

fast it’s hard to keep up with. Is this part of evolution?

You’re either on or not on the Bus?

Are you on a path at all,

let alone to the stars?

If you think you have all the  answers,

maybe you just haven’t found the right question.

Painting Yourself Into A Vaccine

The death agenda of the Deep State

is in full swing…they’re going door to 

door trying to get everyone vaccinated.

The unbrainwashed aren’t buying it.

The result is the only people they’re 

depopulating are the people that don’t 

think for themselves, aren’t aware, I.e.

Democrats and sheeple that can’t wake

up, destroying their base, and leaving

Trump supporters that aren’t having the

vaccine. Doh! Keystone Kriminals! Lol!

2014

Listening to lies our whole lives 

maybe or not our parents, certainly 

everything around us; what we saw 

on t.v., learned in school, the uniforms,

the fads, the latest fashion swept away,

with only our instincts to tell the truth.

That’s sophisticated Western culture of

the Twentieth century and beyond.

Even now only a handful of people make

all the rules and it looks like the Republic

is down one, two outs in the bottom of the

ninth.

Commonality

What are the most common things we say?

How’s the weather? How ya doing? How’s the kids?

Verbally, are our lives a cliche?

When was your last new thought?

When was the last time someone said something and

you thought to yourself:  “Huh!” ?

“What do you think of…”

something incredible

something you never considered 

in words, communication,

intersections on a ven diagram?

We don’t just sense each other, we intersect,

because part of our nature is quantum being.

“Bags of water” as the aliens call us.

Put a hermit that has been meditating in a cave

for twenty years and plop him down in the middle

of a thousand people and watch them change.

Jesus did it, and, it happened.

Anthropo-Homosap

You can see how ridiculous humanity is in all the

billboards

cartoons

sit-coms.

Also god-like in the art o

Michelangelo

DaVinci

Beethoven,

but nobody talks about that now.

USA gets more like Mexico, the louder

the brighter the display the better.

Not many understand what’s going on anyway.

A nuclear war would be a blast!

Impulse Giving

I gave a friend something my daughter gave me

that I liked very much.

He spent a couple of hours with me explaining 

my relationship to the Mayan Calendar. It’s 

his speciality, as a mathematician.

Whether it was worth it or not, for me, is not

important. 

He spent hours preparing to talk to me.

Letting go of something precious is an

appropriate response.

I. Q. for Steven Wright

I got a zero on an I. Q. test because I didn’t 

like the questions they were asking me so

I didn’t answer any.

Later on, I found out that I have a thousand

I. Q. because I didn’t answer any of their questions.

This is the world we live in right now.

This has only been a test.

Proteus

Be the change you want to see.

Be the way you want to be.

You know what your interests are,

do that. Listen to your mind and 

follow your heart, your core, your

intuition .because they’re what’s 

most real in quantum reality.

The rest is just a dream.

Boys Will Be Boys

Boys will be boys,

girls will be their mothers.

Dogs will be dogs,

pigs will be pigs.

Humans will sometimes be human

sometimes dogs

sometimes pigs.

Actors have found a secret:

humans can be anything they imagine.

Sometimes a human is a pig that acts like a human.

Sometimes a human is a dog that acts like a human.

The ego can get very complicated,

but it’s never really human.

It’s the heart that gives it away, tells the truth.

If you can’t see someone’s heart, you know they’re lost,

not really human, tho they swear they are.

Let boys be boys, girls be girls, 

men and women be themselves.

It’s natural and not all that difficult….

be what you are…..do what you do.

You will know them by their actions, 

not their words.

Feral Jesus

You could say that’s all of us.

Feral Jesus, feral Buddha,

untamed mind wisdom potential,

wandering the wilderness of survival,

untrained, doing the best we can,

civilization a rerun on t.v.; leave it 

to Beaver all in the family The Big

Picture my three sons the way it

used to be in the fifties when we were

told about progress but found ourselves 

lost in current chaos which is only the

beginning….survivalists are still in

Idaho waiting, waiting.

Morning Glory

Day rises as always…who knew?

Now that we’re here, what do we do?

We do what we do with the sun overhead.

We do what we do until we are dead.

(Buddhist Seuss)

But, let’s not talk about that now.

Let’s avoid the truth as long as we can,

Democrats do…let’s be like them just kidding.

What else is new?

Have we reached Mars yet? 

Have we conquered the debt?

Why ask why?

Either way it comes out the same,

the Homosap finger-painting progress 

and success…we were never given an

operating manual, but maybe our creators

just wanted to see what we’d do…then,

when the Sap got the A bomb, they began

to reconsider. 

Have you heard the alien theory before?

Was it just something else to ignore?

When the truth stands naked at your door

will you think it’s Avon calling or the DEA?

These are just words, ours are just lives,

honey on a razor’s edge.

You’re probably pissed because you thought

this was going to be a poem.

Ancient Space

 On a planet somewhere lush dense green

steady echoing musical note mantra from

who knows where or why but fills the scene

like back ground music to a silent performance 

of movement of vegetation living beings of every 

stage of evolution existing naturally according 

to instinct as humans do but more complexity 

yes the woods are ancient and arranged like a

painting by Arp lushly draped over everything

the air sounds movements sensorily complete

there in awe no feeling of needing or wanting 

to change anything so organically manifested

just one of the worlds like that pervading space

that just be there existing with everything on it

enlightenment of beings on many worlds is 

no big deal.

Life Like

Life like, like life, like

a corpse made up for a funeral

a theatrical production 

Congressional members lying

with sincerity

Governments lying with sincerity 

lots of showman, lying deception,

bad actors.

That’s a lot of it.

Meeting genuine, sympathetic,

sincere, honest people these days is 

getting harder and harder.

It’s getting harder and harder to hear

a word of the truth.

Signs of the Kali Yuga are everywhere.

History

In the sixties, when I was coming of age,

we protested the Vietnam war and Lyndon 

Johnson because we knew the government 

was corrupted. We wanted change: “We want

the world, and we want it now!” (Morrison)

The protests did help get us out of Vietnam,

but it really didn’t change anything in the U.S.;

Johnson, who had Kennedy killed, was a deep

state founder. The deep state wanted to take 

over the USA then, but they didn’t have enough

power until Obama became President and 

solidified the insurrection. Obama was groomed

(have you heard that word before?) to become

the Communist President to oversee and 

facilitate the destruction of America, which

he did for eight years. My generation failed

to save America back in the sixties. But 

Donald Trump, a Boomer, is leading

younger generations to accomplish what 

we failed to do. So, maybe my generation 

didn’t fail after all.

Story

I lost my account on X because I trusted

someone I shouldn’t have. I have a new

account on X, but none of my posts seem

to get posted, so, I wanted to tell this story

here.

I was looking at a post about women in

the army. The debate is between a DEI

military, and one advocated by Trump 

Pete Hegseth. The new Defense Secretary 

wants a force that is trained for combat

as it’s primary objective. 

My dad was a training sergeant in WW2.

He told me that if they had a recruit that

was constantly borderline insubordinate 

and acting out, the sergeants would take

this person behind the barracks one night

and beat the shit out of them. He said the 

reason they did this was because that kind 

of habitual behavior could get someone

killed on the battlefield. That’s how they 

trained troops back then.

Musk Wants A Mastodon

Dire wolf pups created out of reconstructed DNA

are real. If that can happen, can mastodons, dodos,

etc. be recreated? What else? T Rex? Nature finds 

a way? You know, if it can be done, it will. I’m 

gonna build me a bomb out of match heads. I’m

gonna build me a tree fort, a ground fort, a fort

underground because I did when I was a kid. 

Imagine you’re the first person to do this.

You think you’d want to stop?

Looking For A Savior

Plenty of candidates roam the States.

Which side are you on?

Left: who there do you admire?

Right: plenty to chose from. Just look

for the ones excoriated by the Left.

Jesus/Allah for the ones that have lost critical thinking.

The Kali Yuga is the time when the truth

cannot be heard.

Are we there yet?

Edge Of Night

Almost asleep up later than normal 

what is normal living and doing during

the day sleeping at night so it’s close

but I can’t help feeling the cutting 

as time passes that maybe I won’t 

wake up tomorrow I remember people

I worked with that died and I always 

took their passing personally maybe 

I didn’t know them very well but better

than I thought because I do remember 

them even now and that they died which

is like going over the edge into night 

where we’ve spent much of eternity

already

so

if there is basic goodness of existence 

would you say nonexistence is also good

I would life and death meaning continuity 

even the monsters that kill people recycle

eventually no Utopia can be seen in the light.

Priorities

“You’ll have plenty of time to rest when you’re dead.”

Chogyam Trungpa to his students.

“Hasten slowly and you’ll soon arrive.” Tibetan saying

What are you doing with your life?

Ask a billionaire if they’re happy.

Will your last words be: “What was that?”

What does it mean to be human?

Have you ever had a class on that in school?

Belief is thinking you have the answer.

Maybe you should look around before it all goes away?

Parinirvana of Chogyam Trungpa April 4, 2025

 Thirty eight years have passed since you left

your body seems like no time at all in my heart

part of me stays with you.

Reactor

Sitting outside the cafe in Tepoztlan is different 

than sitting outside a cafe in New York City.

Both places people walk by the same.

Here in Tepoztlan they either react with  me or 

they don’t react with me.

In New York, they reach at me, to me, because 

of me.

Lots of posers, actors, in New York City.

Here, not so, because there’s nothing here to grift.

There’s no use pretending.

Notice

The moment you’ve been waiting for

was yesterday at 3:30 p.m..

Kudzu

A living thing that grows out of control

‘till it makes the landscape look like a

painting by Jean Arp

like turbo cancer

like lion fish

like Communism,

bullying existence.

Dystopian

Right now

rubble left from riots

message the future.

Light is brighter:

spectacles, ceremonies, conclaves.

Dark is darker:

aforementioned disasters, wars, plagues,

social mayhem, actual mayhem.

Refuge could be a doorway in an abandoned city.

Escape to the countryside while there’s still time?

The City And The Stars by Arthur C. Clark.

Even music echos hollowness of the homosap.

All this survival for nothing?

At least, there’s still the question.

Come In, Rangoon!

I like to catastrophize, hyperbolize, imagine the worst,

or am I just seeing what is?

I emphasize for clarity…all the arts do….

so does propaganda, but, let’s not talk about that now.

The wheel that squeaks loudest gets the oil

is all you need to know,

ever, at all.

So, next time someone says: “Listen!” 

you might want to.

Random Gleanings From The Id

From womb to tomb, 

something something gloom.

An out-of-booty experience?

Pardon my Brand.

Is my Brand in your way?

Pardon me, but your Brand is showing.

I’d like to talk to you, but I’m allergic 

to stupidity.

I’d like to talk to you but my life is waiting.

He’s got a way with words; he gets away

with words.

Before you were born, you didn’t want anything.

Before you were born is  an infinity of time.

Look straight ahead, because that’s where you’re going.

A lot of my fellow Boomers died young because when

they saw what was going on, it was too late to go back.

All my poems are like coming up for air

three times before I drown.

There they go, there they go.

Where they stop, nobody knows.

Ghost In The Shell

There’s a ghost in my shell…

“the next thing” always haunts me,

the fight for survival thing, part of

my body, my shell, my costume.

There’s still the fear of death,

not hidden, in front of me.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, a cookie comes my way,

feeding the hungry ghost.

Getting Away With Life

I pretty much got away with it.

I didn’t become what the slave owners wanted.

Twenty years in Mexico, drinking and writing poetry.

I’ll buy that for a dollar!

The end might not be pretty, 

but that’s true for billionaires.

I’m happily poor, unvaccinated, unbrainwashed,

dinking coffee, smoking, writing this.

There are still some of us left in the world.

Others walk by me in some sort of fog.

And so it goes.

Risky Business

At the risk of being stupid, 

(but isn’t that life after all?)

I write some posts on X, 

for example,

and get a little feedback.

I don’t know what it means.

I tell people what I think,

which is why I have no friends…

not complaining…I don’t know

what it means.

Everybody knows that if you go

out that door, you might never 

come back. It’s a cliche.

You can get beyond survival

as a homosap, become rich,

have everything you want,

still, you never know.

Not to be a downer,

but it pays to stay on your toes.

,

Genocide Academy

The possibility of such a thing is anathema.

Moist hazy switchboard allows aberrations.

Making mincemeat of absurdities and stuffing

them into bikinis.

Crude miscommunication melts trust.

Caption this waterfront handgun in terms to study.

Acquire derivations classifications endpoint revelation.

(Backdrop flickers while comatose music roars)

Snowflake religion laments implant wreckage.

Envious prisoner of ambient intoxicant accelerant.

Pendulum appetizer fails crisis priority.

If tongues could taste themselves we’d be

right where we are.

Shadow

A study with a rolled top desk, piles of

books on the floor, you get the picture.

A parallel universe to my own. Why not?

Whomever inhabits that room is more

successful than me, has appointments to

various societies and boards, is constantly 

in motion between engagements,  highly

visible and noticeable in social media.

We are not the same.

Sitting On A Street

Not in Ukraine,

not in Philadelphia,

not in New York City,

not in Juarez,

not in London,

not in Bejing…

so many places I’d rather not be.

The street is perfect with people

minding their own business, 

walking along, some smile.

I’m anonymous, not a target.

There it is, the life I ordered.

If I’m lucky, I come off as a

nice old man, harmless, to which

category I’m happy to belong,

forgotten, even by me.

Inspiration

I had that thought that the jazz swept away

thankfully resting in music vibration ‘till 

captured by a pair of eyes? Maybe, or just

drifting in the ambience, a complete unknown,

part of a scene.

That’s not enough, I know, just a leaf adrift

on a turbulent stream.

Teacher’s Pet

“Easy, boy, easy!”

I talk to myself like an animal

when my instincts bristle, 

watching, not identifying.

I’m just another rube in the carnival.

No need to make something out of nothing,

besides, it’s already been done.

Just look around.

Aftermath Of A False Apprehension

Things could have gone quite differently.

I was braced for the worst, but the best happened.

Still a bit quivery from that other possibility,

but I just noticed the air,

how fresh it is today.

So, things are looking up.

Oh Yeah

Could be a playground dare…

could be a sigh of relief.

Everything is contextual.

Only the oral traditions 

spoke the truth.

They chiseled the truth

into monuments, in case

anyone was wondering,

which they used to do a lot

until internet/social media

vampired curiosity, which

makes me, a writer, no matter

good/bad, an endangered species.

Saved In The Nick Of Pan

On the edge of a crumbling cliff…

no cliff notes to refer to.

Everything could go wrong in so many ways…

but maybe it will wait until I’ve had breakfast.

Wheelhouse

Sitting there

observing, aware

of the flow of life,

of energy, me and

around me.

“Nothing personal.”

You don’t like to hear that

when a gun is pointing at your face.

You don’t think that’s your daily life,

thought that is in fact the case.

The most profound truth is right

in front of you.

Trosang

Day of relaxation…I’m not going to worry,

nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow.

A lovely feeling, like being a child again

for a moment.

What should I do?

A leaf falls, kerplop!

I could just notice that.

I did, and my mind began to analyze.

Stop that, mind!

Haven’t you learned by now you don’t 

have to figure it all out?

Don’t waste the moment trying to do 

something.

Funny, how I feel this residual need

to hurry.

Why Not?

Why can’t I write when I’m bothered,

frazzled, vibrating from intensity?

The waters are cloudy, roiled, lacking

clarity, foggy, at least that’s clear.

The pain of getting things done, having 

continually to be getting things done is more

tedious and draining.

Survival is more a question; I wonder if

it’s worth it, like Berryman.

It’s just the mood I’m in.

It’s just that I can see why people kill themselves.

It all just gets to them.

Everyone has a breaking point, but life seems

to go on..”they tell me that it will kill me

but they won’t say when.”

No More Troys

No Eden, Utopia, Paradise…

Shangri-lha/Shambhala not included…

No more Great Halls to hang your sword.

No more Victory Feasts to celebrate certainty.

No more calendar dates to commemorate.

Everything starts new now when we don’t know

we know things are changing but not what to.

Personally I am in Paradise how long I don’t know.

You feel things are changing people dying sadly

all over the world that needs to be exposed and is.

Let the Great Eastern Sun of the truth shine on all.

Threadbare

When Teflon tape was invented,

plumbers rejoiced everywhere.

It mean you could take a pipe where

the threads were barely there, slap the

tape on and make a great connection.

You didn’t know that.

You never needed to know that.

But, my imagination being threadbare,

I slapped some Teflon on it, and it

still holds water!  Har Har!

I don’t think about death all the time

 …but when I do.

When young there is the occasional 

burst of feeling immortal because your

body is getting better all the time, the

opposite of watching it all fall apart.

What comfort in knowing it’s just a

natural display?

At least, 

it’s something I can’t be blamed for.

People give us elders leeway, knowing

it’s not our fault. That’s nice.

I feel like I’m stealing time since I quit

drinking.

I always loved being an outlaw.

Three

Poetry, a jazz riff,

transforms emotions,

evokes vision,

if you have an elastic, 

fantastic mind,

I want to run away from my cell phone.

It promises freedom, but is just another

link in the shackles.

It’s like a chained dog,

sleeping, that I have to pass

to get somewhere.

Supplication

May the universe torture me

in a certain way that needs a poem

to express what we all know.

Harmony=Wa

They don’t have that in the West, except 

for a little motel in the Catskills called:

The Harmony Inn.

No, the West never looked for peace too

busy manufacturing Hegelian synthesis,

progress into the future whatever that 

was supposed to be.

“You may say that I ain’t free,

but it don’t worry me.”

In Media Res

Pleasure in the midst of pain

clinging to a dying animal

a man who was just blown up

gives the thumbs up even with

no legs, go figure.

A Samurai standing still in the

middle of battle.

“Would you like more tea?”

“No thanks, I’m fine.”

Hurry up, please, it’s time.

Decent

I try to look decent

in public decent

clothes it’s the decent

thing to do, the social

contract, circling each

other and sniffing, it’s 

the least we could do

let alone explaining the

meaning of life to the

masses, but let’s not get

ahead of ourselves.

If It Was A Snake

Try to remember…

nope…that one’s gone…

it seems like only yesterday 

how time flies

there’s always until there isn’t 

look behind you…too late…it’s gone

ice cream truck

red wheelbarrow

a chance for redemption.

Uncertainty

Something in my mind, a concern, in

my whole being, the yoke’s on me,

blocks out, narrows perception, sensation,

retreating into reptilian brain.

That’s it, that’s what’s happening now,

all  I can describe,

poem diminished to an afterthought.

Tingly Tangly

Tingly tangly with the jingle jangle of guitar

tugging tangly with heavy mind machinery 

a monkey wrench in the works works for me.

Next question!

Hard to say…hardly worth mentioning…

everything, I mean, the world, poor thing.

Yes, what’s happening affects all our lives.

OK…

everything’s clear when you’re cornered.

Still Life

Still so much to say feeling time’s passing away

we all go this way, cricket, spit it out. What do you

say at the most important moment of your life?

“I regret I have only one life to give to my country.”

“Fuck you assholes!”  It’s a question I have.

What was it for you?

A college interview?

Proposing to your wife?

A Championship fight?

Acceptance speech?

Address to the world?

“No tramping through vast Arabies of hot

meaning, you just numbly don’t get there.”

The Transfiguration Of Blind Joe Schmidt

 On a too long night waiting for that tomorrow 

that never comes expecting liberation always

just out of reach like a brass ring realizing

suddenly one day out of the blue he’s free.

Wabi Sabi

Chaos is part of natural order.

What’s happening in the USA now

is remolecularization.

Everything is changing…all we see

is the changing, not the result.

So far, what we might have figured out,

is that everything we knew was wrong.

I mean, what else?

As We Go Along

Like it or not, things keep happening,

like flaming boxcars down and endless rail.

Quieter, more hidden before, now in your face.

I live where there’s lots of country, the trees, 

greenery and so on. We are part of nature.

Separation from that makes us unhappy and crazy. 

So, join me in nature.

Pretending

I thought I knew what I was doing.

That’s not the same as pretending.

Now I know I don’t know, and I’m

making it up as I go along….changes

happening quickly feels like on a log

racing down a roiling river no control

everyone’s affected by what’s going on.

Maybe your piece of earth will be the

next to collapse….just say’n.

Those people in Maui and L.A. were rich.

“If you can keep your head when all about

are losing theirs and blaming it on you.”

Kipling’s recipe for a man.

Or, as Buddhist’s say as an insult:

“That’s very interesting.”

March Fourth

Birthday

a tooth falls out

thank you

a friend surprises me with

exactly what I need

thank you

Trump speaks tonight

thank you

a trifecta

“What’s it all mean, Mr Natural?”

“Don’t mean shit.”

House Of Cards

House of charades,

Eugene O’Neal house of pancakes,

whatever you say, Sir,

make it up as you go along…I know

you will.

The best of intentions are paved with

fool’s gold.

Seeing is believing, but, why does that

need to be said?

Isn’t it obvious?

Obviously not,

and so it goes.

Carnival 2025

Party time…

always party time in Mexico,

might as well, the earth’s been explored…

what we don’t know is where we came from.

Theories and opinions are all the same…

might as well raise a toast,

give a cheer,

because we’re here

because we’re here

because we’re here.

Listen With Eyes Still And Become Free

Or not, your choice, you blinked and you missed it.

Catch your impulse and stop. Wherever you are, stop.

Remember the phrase “wherever I am.” when you 

remember it, stop.

A big goldfish bowl full of water.

A bell rings, two fighters eye each other.

I drop to the ground on my hike and feel the earth.

It all comes back to me, as if I’d been here before.

Kafe Kua

Amatlan where Quetzalcoatl was born they say,

Cafe over looking the shop I’m waiting for to open.

Beautiful, clear, sunny, cool day, table a little shaky,

like Mexico.

The environment here is magic,

miracles are commonplace,

everyone’s seen a UFO.

Shop’s open, I go

get my birthday present,

and flow.

Mexican Festival

Day, of some sort, people marching to

bands, in costumes, they get into it.

What else are they going to do?

Just flat, plain, simple, earthy lives,

spiced by salsas, tequila, cervesa, 

colorful clothes, dancing, fireworks.

Mexico third world with some first

world pretensions. Forget progress.

The Mexican Space Program (there

is one) is humorous. Nothing ever 

gets off the ground.

Hot Sauce

I’m going to die happy.

We used to get Face Of The Sun

and Hector’s Revenge hot sauce…

to die for, really,

the Siren call…

I get the S&M thing now, although

the pain is not the pleasure,

it’s the price.

He Tried

Have a life, go ahead,

get a wife

have some kids

get some stuff

get more stuff

on disability now

junior got arrested

daughter went to Harvard

fifty years of marriage

at least there’s still someone

here I know…

junior made it though

he has two kids too

daughter won the Nobel Prize

then got cancer and died

junior outlives us all…

…and so it goes.

Windmill Warrior

Joe Schmidt. This was the name

for Trungpa’s “Everyman”. R. Crumb

had several names: Norman, Flaky Foont,

Joe Blow. You get the idea, an average Joe

walking down the city street, whistling, 

hands in his pockets, casually looking around.

Suddenly, anything happens; a safe falling 

from a building narrowly misses him…he gets

tangled in the leashes of dog walkers…he watches

a fight across the street, the police come, a fire ignites,

fire engines come….but he only stops for a couple of

minutes. He’s the kind of guy you hardly notice. You

can never remember what you talked about. Well, 

evolution is a funny thing.

The Universe Has No Opinion

“Opinions are relics of fight-or-flight

ancient animal instincts, “what if?”

extrapolated by discursive mind.”

Panteleon 

The safe that falls on your head isn’t sorry.

The pack of wild dogs that tears you to pieces

is just having fun.

Remember “Horton Hears A Who”?

Yes, that’s us on this planet.

Maybe Musk is right about Mars,

but on the universe’s scale, it’s not an inch.

If the earth is destroyed,  the universe

wouldn’t flinch….there’s plenty more

where that came from, including humans.

Heroes And Villains

That’s the game that’s afoot.

The villains are losing power

and being replaced by heroes.

It’s the yin-yang thang, the

heaven and hell rondo. Even

if you get to Heaven, don’t expect

eternity, because Heaven is still 

part of the game. Sooner or later

you will recycle. No, the only way 

is to get off the bandwagon, dissolve 

into the quantum mind of the universe.

It’s a tall order, but many have done it.

Our problem is we think the bandwagon 

is going somewhere. When we see it 

properly, we see the bandwagon is actually 

a carousel going round and round.

The heroes and villains are merely costumed 

players, painted wooden horses that go

round and round, up and down.

It’s fascinating for children.

Wake Up!

Before it’s too late!

Before the fat lady sings!

What are you waiting for?

I’m giving you permission!

Strike while there’s still an iron!

(that’s the irony)

I’m tired of writing poems!

I want to shout like a mad man!

I’m manning up!

You could have listened to the Buddha, the Beatles,

Nietzsche, Whitehead, Stevens….the world has been

telling you constantly what’s going on, but you

haven’t listened!

Now the world is starting to scream like a madman!

Fuck your ego!

Whatever you think of yourself, good or bad, is ego,

so, fuck that. It’s not even what’s really happening, 

so why waste your time with it, except you can’t 

help it because, love or hate yourself, you’re strung

along like a little doggie. Die trying to make the

world your oyster.

I saw one talking to herself today walking down

the street, middle aged, well dressed, couldn’t tell

if she was on her cell phone until I looked, but she

wasn’t, just a steady stream of words, high as a kite

on something or other….herself maybe.

Human existence is fluid more than solid or gas, 

though there are many full of hot air, many seemingly

solid as rock, but they still move.

Open Your Eyes

You never know

until you find out,

which is why it’s preferable 

to keep your eyes open because

you never know.

Falling into an open manhole

while talking on the cell phone.

This principle permeates our lives.

We notice a stray dog or cat, alone

shivering, and we take it home.

It becomes our pet and gives love for 

many years….you see?

If you don’t look across the crowded room,

your eyes will never meet.

It’s all quite enchanting, really.

Clowny

It’s better to not be too in control,

meaning rigid, Kantian, always

purposeful, lacking spontaneity.

Wallace Stevens wrote: “ The eccentric 

is the basis of design.” meaning what

we’re not expecting at least makes life

interesting, at least we’re given a

million billion chances in life to wake

up and smell the roses, the most mundane

example I can give.

And another thing, (nice segue) if I hadn’t 

made myself a fool with so many ladies, I

never would have gotten laid. What better

testimonial do you need? As I wrote before:

My dad said: “If you don’t control yourself, 

people will think you’re crazy.”

“But, Dad, if I control myself, I’ll be like them

and think I’m sane.”

Saturday Evening

Lying in bed…fan on…music next door

from a party, not loud, not like Mexico…

background beat and notes quite earful,

earrich sound to go with no pain of old

man…sweet like posts on X of people

with their animal friends even though 

I’m alone, in fact but not in spirit since

I feel the people at fiesta next door, the

people suffering in wars, the evil that

must be stopped for the world to remain;

I feel all of it, it’s my job as Buddhist/

bodhisattva/poet/prophet/Johnson just 

yer neighbor, glad to help. And I think 

we’ll get along a lot better once 

the change happens.

Start with a story…

The Hotel Bismarck in Chicago, when I was

coming of age, was a landmark establishment.

The. restaurant there was famous for its creamed

spinach, and it’s ancient, obstreperous waiters

that came with an attitude. It was all in good fun.

There was a male only bar that was part of the

hotel.  It was very cool, kinda like a club atmosphere.

The women’s movement happened in the Seventies,

and women started coming into the bar. 

Nothing happened.

Then, after a while, the women stopped coming into

the bar, and the bar went back to the way it was…

for a while.

And so it goes. My dad liked to take us to the restaurant 

there, because he liked the creamed spinach, the waiters,

and the sauerbraten. I realize precisely as I’m writing this,

that German food is the best food. English was my father’s

second language that he started to learn when he went to 

school. His neighborhood in Chicago was German. He 

never looked like he wanted to raise his arm in a Nazi 

salute. He trained American soldiers in WW2. He was,

believe it or not, an honest lawyer. But, it’s the creamed

spinach that’s got a hook in me. I bought some deserts…

brought them back….chocolate…should help me forget.

And so it goes….didn’t see that one coming, did ya!

“What….what do you mean?” 

Yeah…..that’s right. It’s what comes between…the

conjunction, but instead, read between the lines. 

I mean, does one thing lead to the next, or, are events

constantly arising randomly?

NEXT!

How rude….

Turning The Page

The next page is always empty

until it is filled with anything you could imagine.

Libraries filled with trees worth of pages,

in case what’s on them is needed.

Now, pages are anachronisms, forever filled with

forgotten information.

From my notebook, to computer, to internet where

my words will echo forever…..not the meaning of

life, that has been found, and lost, and found again

forever,

 but never comes up when you put in a key word.

A.I. may destroy us, but it will never have a 

quantum transcendent essence, soul for the straight

people. 

Native Americans knew that when you wrote 

something down, it would be forgotten.

There’s a lot we should know, should have 

been told, but weren’t. Those of us that know

had to find out for ourselves. 

Many people are like dogs, sniffing each 

other’s butts, looking for information, 

social media.

It’s easier than turning a page.

Extispicy

If there is anything to divination by the bowels

today should be a special day since my bowels

have expressed themselves so magnificently, 

as if saying: “Here’s shit looking for a fan.”

A spicy premonition if ever there was one.

It Had To Be A Woman

No, it had to be a woman

to make me notice

something, 

anything at all, 

her.

Then, everything around was filled

with her perfume, her presence,

and the whole space leaned forward.

A natural event that makes the world

go round.

I’m just beating a dead obviousness again,

like every comedian,

poet,

fool that ever was.

Some are better at it than others, but I affirm

none of us can help ourselves, like madmen

shouting loudly in the streets…

“as we sing in our chains like the sea.”

Apocrypha 

Silly Me Prophesy

I’m getting lots of hits on my blog today

from Austria and Germany.

My name is Tischer.

Maybe they’ll put me on a bumper sticker.

Sense Of Taste

German Eiswein is what I imagine nectar tastes like.

The taste of a pipe full of shit

exploding in my face: I’ll never forget that taste.

Made you taste! Made you taste!

Phantom taste! Phantom taste!

Tip Of The Day

Relax because everything is not going anywhere.

Tip Of The Day #2

Penis (just the tip).

John Tischer 75 years old.

Tip Of The Viceburg

Musk in Washington. 

Raiding the Waffle House

of pancakes with too much syrup 

on the taxpayer dime.

Act one scene one, getting to know 

the characters, the players, watching

reactions, events, counter moves,

The Greatest Show On Earth

will be remembered forever

as something or other.

Maybe

Maybe something will come out

if I write maybe. (Yeah, one of those

I’m afraid) 

it all depends on how you look at it.

And Job said: “Lord, I’ve been suffering

for….let’s see…my whole life now, and

really, it’s all a cliche by now…

see what I mean?”

And the Lord said: “You have a point. OK,

no more suffering.”

And this could play several ways….Job could say:

“Oh, c’mmon! Just a little more?  Please?”

Or, Job could go “Wheeeeeeeww!  Wheeeeeeee!”

and suddenly drop dead.

Or, Job could reverse roles and God suddenly finds

Himself in an office in front of a computer 

working for DOGE.

Nowhere Man

Nowhere man sitting anywhere

everywhere in the markets, on the

streets, in factories, dancing in clubs,

or, was it all a dream, memories, scars,

photographs, same old stories, did it 

happen and does any of it matter?

Perhaps if we could grok the complexity 

of the quantum matrix we’d have 

an answer.

Karma is a real thing and manifests 

over lifetimes, not that I can prove that.

Maybe I’ll find a joint and forget about

the whole thing, be nowhere again.

But, just then, my amiga, my friend,

appeared with a joint as if by perfect magic,

starting the thinking all over again,

which is how I got nowhere in the first place.

Race To The Stars!

Now what?

A race between Musk to Mars or bust,

and space alien race technologies already

know that make Musk’s rockets look silly.

Well? What have you heard lately?

Got any truer ideas?

I loved science fiction as a kid,

but reality now has it beat to shit.

Absurdity

“One thing leads to another.”

That’s  a cliche.

Cliches point to something

that happens over and over,

over and over,

over and over.

That’s why Absurdist Theatre arose;

Existentialism with a sense of humor.

It came and went because things

come and they go.

“Don’t you people ever learn?”

“How many times do I have to tell you?”

The absurdity is endless really.

“You could have knocked me over with a feather.”

That’s why there are so many punchlines

in the first place.

“Why don’t you watch where you’re going?”

could be the overwhelming question.

World War Q

What would Jesus do?

Anyone who seriously asks that

question is already lost.

Trump appoints a televangelist.

It’s not out of character.

Trump has been messing with people’s 

minds since he came down the escalator.

What would Jesus do?

Christians argue amongst themselves.

It’s a long way from the resurrection.

Now it’s more like the Tower of Babel.

Chaos is ramping up, a good thing when

certainty becomes destructive.

Then, there are the aliens from space.

What would Jesus do?

Hide the truth like the Catholic Church?

Welcome them as children of God?

Who the fuck knows?

It’s the fallacy of belief.

It’s the fallacy of misplaced concreteness.

Even Job might cry: “No! This is just too much!”

We don’t know because humanity has never

been here before, in the final world war

for the control of the mind.

Small World

It’s a small world,

a tiny itsy bitsy planet

somewhere in a universe

where intelligent beings

think every thought there is to think

like a supercomputer gone mad,

not that anything much happens.

Oh yes, the homosaplings manage

to get themselves in lots of trouble,

but the universe couldn’t care less.

OK, maybe they’re sending emissaries 

in strange crafts to boggle our minds…

maybe we are their reality show, for a 

good laugh.

Somebody should tell them it’s not funny.

And So It Goes Again

“Hurry up please, it’s time.”

Last call at the pub,

last call for humanity.

Too late for second thoughts.

“What’s it all about, Alfie?

Is it just for the moment we live?”

There is no other now than this now.

What part of now don’t you understand?

We are the quick and the dead.

“You don’t have to be quick to live here,

but, it’s over.”

The truth is always positive…we live

we die, that’s it.

Any questions?

I’m sure there are a few, but

that doesn’t change the fact.

That fact could be a wake up call,

an inspiration to look around and see,

instead of believing what you’ve been told.

It’s a choice we always have until we don’t.

             &&&&& Extra Credit &&&&&

Belaboring the obvious truth is what  Buddhist

teachings do.

It’s all they do.

They are the Terminator of ego,

if you’re into that sort of thing,

and why shouldn’t you be?

It’s the only path to freedom.

Just ask those that practiced it

over thousands of years.

It’s rare to even encounter the Buddhist

point of view,

let alone be attracted to it,

let alone resonate with it,

let alone Grok it,

let alone follow the path,

yada, yada, yada attain liberation.

It’s a shaggy dog story without a punchline

which is the punchline.

“No trudging through vast Arabies of hot meaning.”

Simply recognizing what’s true according to one’s 

own common sense wisdom, if you can make

heads or tails of that.

Jolly good luck, Frens!

Baby Jesus

Lots of people walking around with

Baby Jesus dolled up dolls in fancy dress

for some ritual celebration or other, so

many I can’t keep up, but yes, many dolls,

that have somewhere to go, a purpose, as if

they were alive in the maelstrom of mind

Homosap comes up with, with good or bad

intentions since his time began.

The Purge Of Evil: Update (“The Purge Of Evil”, November, 2011)

People commenting on President Trump’s

first days in office have been using the word

“purge” lately to describe the process that’s taking 

place with Trump’s Executive Orders, DOGE’s

investigations, and other soon to be confirmed

Cabinet members agendas. The word evil hasn’t 

been used by the people that will be running the

government much, but, as they say: the night is

still young. The more the truth about how the

American people have been targets for lies, mass

brainwashing, and mass murder for decades,

the more the  word “evil” will be used. 

Six months to a year.

Yeah?

 I got nothing better to do than write,

and whomever reads this has nothing

better to do than do that. Almost 

existential, if you catch my Beckett.

Poetry is not necessarily revelatory,

or beautiful or even necessary….no

wait….it is necessary….something 

is necessary.

 

Stellar

Stellar events, in the sky and on the ground…

outstanding like an Executive Order or a comet,

spectacular in display and effect, out of this world,

not to be ignored, this is your life too, smoke them  

if you got ‘em….one fore all, all for one, and every 

man for themselves….( The Three Stooges)…

Stellar like all the events that are happening and

continue to happen….for a long time nothing 

happens, and then, everything happens at once

Hi, how ya doing? I thought I’d take this 

opportunity to say hi, how ya doing? 

Any questions?

Diminishing Returns

It’s a great day…I don’t have to do anything.

I don’t like to do anything anymore.

Those things are a drag, whatever they are.

When I was young I could do so much more,

plumbing buildings,

acting in plays,

teaching the dharma…I can’t even write poems

much anymore….

never that good, but better before.

It’s like I’m watching the credits for my own movie

scrolling down.

Who stays around in the theatre for those?

My writing now is mostly eulogy: “John Tischer: he tried.”

It never has reached many.

“Meditate, you fuckers!” is what I want to scream

to the world.

The pursuit of happiness is a waste of time.

“A snowflake on a burning stove.”

“No trudging through vast Arabies of hot meaning…

you just numbly don’t get there.” Kerouac

“All is vanity.” Ecclesiastics 

We Buddhists know this.

All we do is try to help the others.

But the others don’t care,

can’t listen,

are too busy,

don’t even want to know.

The only thing Buddhists have going

for themselves is eternity, like

the bumper sticker reads:

“Buddhism…eventually.”

Yup

A baby smiled at me with a full set

of perfect teeth.

Beautiful day, perfect temperature.

Anther kid exclaimed “Pero!!” cutely 

at some dogs.

What more do you want?

Mars?

Werner Von Braun, the Paper Clip

scientist, predicted an Elon would take

us to Mars.

And so it goes.

“No wonder the truth is stranger than fiction.

Fiction has to make sense,” Mark Twain

March 4, 2025

My birthday, ‘76,

The day the American Republic

will re emerge, announcing the end

of the treasonous insurrection,

the slave state,

if you can believe that.

It could happen.

Who would have thought that four years ago?

Branded

Abercrombie and Fitch

Pepsi

Hollister

A list of names people wear that

makes them feel as if they were cool,

not hanging by a hook from their heel,

but it’s the same idea.

You don’t think so.

“Strange days have found us.”

Welcome to the slaughterhouse.

Never Do What The Government Tells You

I didn’t go to Vietnam, the war escalated by

treasonous L.B.J..

I didn’t take the bioweapon.

In between I tried to live my life, find out what

life was in the first place, tried to help others.

So far, so good.

I slaved away as a plumber for thirty years

so they couldn’t steal my soul…that worked.

How’s about you? How’s it going?

It’s too late to get on the pedophile Satanist

gravy train….those people are in for a rude

awakening….wouldn’t you agree?

Do you even see?

You might want to start opening your eyes

while that’s still optional.

January 20, 2025 Tepoztlan

Partly sunny, 68, streets lightly trafficked,

unassuming, unremarkable, just another day,

in the universe,

right here, with it’s routine, it’s momentum,

people with hopes and dreams, 

oh yeah! you bet! for sure!

how’s that working out for ya, 

before the “Big Ta Da!” ?

Even then, it continues, much ado about nothing,

always looking for something,

“the” something,

it’s something’s, all the way down.

Not bad, this day…as good a day to die as any.

That way, I appreciate it,

even if there is no punchline.

Now What?

OK, we went through all the criminality 

and attempts to overthrow the Constitution,

and Trump is back as President.

Biden’s pardons don’t work for treason.

Just waiting to see, Mr. President,

just waiting to see.

Wink Wink

A little girl looked at me today,

I waved, she waved, it made me happy.

It’s all about the waves,

frequencies,

we are in an ocean of waves of sense

perceptions, all ways, all waves, a big one,

and people scatter like seashells,

a barracuda, and waves of fear.

##############################

A man with a little ponytail,

gringo, wouldn’t look at me, Californian,

maybe.

I survive because of the flow of electrons,

paper I exchange for food…

most of us do.

It’s the law now, meaning, how things work,

meaning necessary for survival,

the way teeth used to be.

Meanwhile, at the top of the rollercoaster,

At the edge of the slowly crumbling cliff,

trying to make heads or tails of a convulsive 

octopus, which side of the aquarium glass

are we on?

We always knew there was something we 

didn’t know, a reality hidden from us Eloi,

but the universe says no more.

All that glitters is not gold, and what appears 

on tic tok is not real.

I fall in love with a woman walking towards me,

immediately,

an idiot living like the rest of us in the world.