Sunday, January 17, 2010


The canary who peers into a mirror
doesn't recognize himself.
He thinks the reflection
is another little bird.

Are easy realities
also hidden to our eyes,
even in plain view?

Perhaps we fail to see are own face
glaring back at us
when looking at each other.

Hymn of Devotion to an Unknown God

May I lay my guns in the ground
so that they may not menace by my hands.

May I lay my eyes on young beauty
and ask nothing but its thoughts, and peace of mind.

May I lay alone
and drink the pleasure of solitude.

May I lay with another
and forgive my expectations.

May I know confidence
who's true face is silence

May I know strength
who's true power is letting go.

May I know love
compassion without prejudice.

May I feel pain
suffering without malice.

May I give
without anticipation for return.

May I receive
without the weight of obligation.

May I forget
past and future,
to invite life's lasting present.

May my spirit be free
to abandon passions
and practice the ecstatic dance
of a leaf carried by the stream.

Saturday, January 16, 2010

New Friends

If I am some con-artist,
a nimble and cunning deceiver of the heart,
your only risk is validation.


If I too am like you,
one who would kiss god on the lips
tongue and all,
in your suspicions,
you gamble what is most dear to you;

A kindred spirit in a land of strangers.

Thursday, January 14, 2010

Probability Waves

There is a myth of assumption,
buried in the murk of our
nebulous reptile brain,
for the complete collapse.
Fear that as
Our Great Race
is coming together
we are also falling apart.

as we stand
contemplating the precipice of some new and deeper dark age,
that all the living world,
and the
definitively adaptive wealth of nature
mother of first mind,
will join us,
dragged dutifully into the void.

To me it seems
that to the temple of emerging science,
Worker of Many Miracles
many sometimes tithe a deeper,
instinctive truth.

Without eyes to see the stars,
and thought to give them radiance,
what is the speed of a photon?

Without a pupil,
does the object know relevance,
or even form?

To ride a wave of probability,
impossible without a surfer!

Consider the child,
who upon fully awakening in a dream,
must figure out how to break to her family
that she has become
a Multidimensional Color
who only responds to sound.
Will mother give such soft praise to this
new ubiquitous consciousness?

And while your being may ascribe to this,
and your perception freely conforms to it,
you still think
the very chalk from which you are drawn
can be erased by your own hand.

Monday, January 11, 2010


A child possessed with the world of illusion
can cast such subtle spells in his own time,
he can manipulate the scenes and settings
and forget for a moment he is an actor, even in his own mind.

Jazz Band

I stopped to wait for another measure,
as their modality began subtly increasing.


How was it for the first of mankind,
who didn't have to think about dying,
Who's lives would end in genuine wonder,
instead of unadulterated terror?

What blissful dreams may come,
to those who wouldn't anticipate our dire endings.
It casts a shadow, just on the soul of a man
to contemplate such jealousy.

The Virtue of Sleep

My brother slid in, a hollow ghost,
propelled only by amphetamines and whiskey.
With a long sigh,
his slender arm found the bottle of hydrozin on the kitchen counter.

How long had he been up?
More hours than he cared to remember,
or at least more than he was prepared to count.


We are headed through Reno and parts further south,
the desert is dry and unappealing.

Mushroom Season

It's mushroom season in the valley,
and all the people
have bullshit smiles.
They laugh and talk and walk around,
and then get dizzy and go sit down.

Peace & Love & Apprehension
on the backs of eyelids, flowers bloom,
with glowing minds and blushing cheeks,
they wear it like it's going out of style.


Can't say I have a solid image of myself
just reflections in the eyes
of painted faces passing by,
and in this funny concept
I see all hating is self loathing
and I dismiss the notion
of a perfect life.

The Key to Success

Somebody once told me
the key to success
is to write down everything.


New Directions

Rosie leaped from the curb
but left one foot in the intersection
it was the first of many profound, but mundane new directions,
she suspects what is easily framed will as quickly be undone.

Sunday, January 10, 2010

Regarding the Mysterious Man in the Blue Suit

Milk and honey,
a Beamer and a Bently
girls come to play,
any wealth you could imagine
could be found inside your home,
to have you sign on the dotted line.

Disregard the fine print,
and put your name in black and blue,
with help to those who help themselves
give their helpless help to you.

But after its evaporated
the sun has set
and your taste is not sated
then what have you gained
but their world of pain,
and the world again
in debt to the man.

All you own is what you know
and you can't even take that with you.
So would you leave a legacy,
or a pile of shit to move?

The Stranger

The stranger comes
when I am gone
he speaks in riddles
and thinks in songs
he smiles for me when things are wrong
and wants the world to think he's strong.

When it's dark and I'm alone
I'm the only one at home
but when I'm sick and reaching out
is when the stranger comes around.


This little pink orchid
sitting on my table
reminds me
to always be mindful.
It lives below a picture
painted by a weighty friend
for my goldfish, now dead of my neglect
who once occupied that spot.

Land Rover

The world has become those girls,
who show up to a rave, clutching their handbags
and walking around nervously, with a spray can tan.
Always subject to the whims
of their coke addled boyfriends,
as they are grabbed firmly by the arm,
and thrown back into the Land Rover.

A pensive collection of players,
showing up to a jam with their guitars and drums,
and never playing a note.
They pause,
only to lower their sunglasses
and offer a suggestively callous look to the revelers around them.

I get it, you're a mystery,
but nobody has the interest to figure you out.

So, shake your ass already.

The Big Joke

I know that it's been said before
and I risk sounding cliche,
(I'm really not that worried about it.)

It's a lie you repeat to yourself in your sleep,
because you want to stay the same,
because it's really all you know.

Its a lie that grows thinner as its forced down your throat
and your expected to swallow.

It's all an illusion
just a cardboard maze
a lot of smoke and mirrors,
just ask Buddha
or your local quantum physicist.

the mortgage on your home
the girl on the phone
let it go

the money in the bank
the fuel in your tank

it's an existential prank
let it go.

A Syllabus

Before we get started, I just want to find out a few things about you.

*Please raise your hand if you identify with any of the following statements;*

It has become a pathological need to maintain my emotional distance.

If I let somebody in my head, they could shatter my self image.

I smother once ephemeral discomfort with an unpersonable indifference,
and to anyone content to show solidarity, they are met with supreme defiance.

It has become sadly apparent that facets of my personality are an effigy,
a complex construction to disguise my sneaking insecurities
encouraged by a society that dictates my impurities
and teaches me the key to success and happiness is a good hustle.

I have a fear of disappointment and staggering self doubt,
others propensity to let me down
and my own lingering demon that I am not good enough
never was,
not for anything,
haunted by this omni-present ghost of reciprocating loathing
that was gifted to me by people who ended up living their nightmares instead of their dreams.

*Do you see any hands in the air?*

One more question before we get started.

Is it any wonder we live in a sea of emotional cripples,
who have felt deeply alone since being ripped from the nipples of their mothers,
taught to be vicious and suspicious of one another
to put on false faces to obtain emotional objectives
and put advancement of themselves above the well being of their neighbors?

Can I Have Your Attention for a Moment?

*Please, repeat the following*

Well fuck that.

I understand that my ability to understand is the key to tranquility.
When exiting the train to perdition
you can bring no emotional baggage.

I exist only in the context of this place and time,
I am a spirit and a body only related briefly

*Please, everyone look at the person next to you, smile at them and tell them your name*

Its OK to let people in, because they only want the same,
and if they choose to hurt you, release the pain,
because time gives no thought to releasing you.

*Here is your new mantra*

Dammit, shake hands and say hi.

Now that the formalities are over, the real lesson begins.

Popular Philosophy

It all says something,
that points to nothing,
but that's just my opinion.

(dedicated to Woody)

Contemporary Mystics #2

Contemporary mystics,
share malt-drown wisdom from the open doors
of their Econoline vans.
Their ripe, sweet funk and rambling sermons
intimidate most passers-by
but for those who offer brief eye contact
they are treated to the ageless spectacle
of someone who touched the beam
and burned up before their time.

Contemporary Mystics #1

Contemporary mystics,
write children's books.

From this
we are indoctrinated
into a pastoral fantasy
where love is a forgone conclusion
and we are magnetized
to a philosophy of absolute wholesomeness.

Only later do we see,
our deepest beliefs have been spun
by lonesome women with several cats
still hungover
from the psychedelic daydream of the hippie era.

And so life begins.

House Trained

How do you sleep?
Restful & alone
or self conscious without another warm body
to help absorb the chill of the night.

Will you see,
that no matter how deep your devotion
how tender your infatuation
and how complete your compromise,
you still wake up with morning breath
& all those candid admissions
that Sailor Jerry forced from your lips the night before.

There will come a time
in those shallow fermented slumbers,
when you will awaken
in a brief a instant
and consider yourself,
before you were well preened
well trained and attached.
When you rolled out of bed
drunk on the days possibilities
and what trouble you could find.


"Well, you see..."
Said the the father,
dutifully pulling his son across the yard
in a little red radio flyer.

"We came from a long line of proud Catholics,
my father was a Catholic,
and your great grandad played organ
every Sunday service.
It's just what we believe,
that's all."

He looked back at his son,
and offered him a reassuring nod.

The child asked.
" When grandpa was a boy,
did the nuns used to hit him?"

The father slowed his walk
and considered his answer.

"Well yes son, I suppose they did."
Stopping now, but not turning around.

"But why would his teachers be so mean?
My teacher seems nice,
I'll bet she never hurt anybody."

The father shifted
"Those were different times,
when grandpa was a boy,
schools thought is taught you something.
We've learned so much since then.
The world is a new place now,
now that we know better."

The boy looked up admiringly and said,
"I'm glad."


"What do we really know anyways?"

he said
"When there is too much food,
but people are starving."

she said
"When children are unimaginative
and diabetic."

he said
"When I don't even know,
if milk is good for me."

she said
"When we are taught to own,
but not to value."

he said
"When every wisdom
is at your fingertips."

She said
"When it's never been easier
to have things easy."

He said
"When the money we idolize is worth
dead cotton and old trees."

Change is constant
improvement is subjective
and I'm open
to a bit of improvisation.


The legend of an unbound people
is that which defines chaos.
That outside of law and peer pressure,
man is animal
some dark, violent rapist
untamed & uncontrolled.

It's an often neglected truism
that our deepest capacity
and our first instinct
is to love and protect.

Where we find the simplest people,
in the jungles of Africa
to the cafes of Broadway
There is the deepest catharsis.

Where there is survival & plenty
a community thrives.
Where there is friendship
there is honesty and release.

and all the nightmares man has made
are popularly justified
as protections of homeland and family.

To be together,
is the way it's always been,
since we left the trees
and huddled for warmth in damp caves,
inventing music by humming softly to each others pulse,
to bring comfort from the mindless indifference
that enveloped us in the primitive world.
are those who still play in harmony,
the last strings of an aging harp?

As it is above, so it is below
like a surprised cat, thrust out a third story window
the universe is naturally pulled to balance.

Higher Education

I think,

The greatest teachers
spite the lecturn
and take to the streets
with the subtle poetry of their lives.

By walking a rightious path
those who see reflections
and extensions of their own minds
are drawn like moths to a bug zapper
electrified and awakened
smitten with the respect from their guide.