a poor man's wordsmithing

 dumber for dwelling
                or
passion points for phantasizing ?
                 
     down! to earth.
rotting rocks were strewn
 on the piteous path to pitfall.

Bebe!

...falling asleep transcribing Bebe lyrics from Spanish to English:

It’s tiring to do this so many evenings, so late
When even clear, beautiful Spring water must, too, evaporate.
I can’t be up all night... Not if I want to be serious, all right
But to the beat of my own drummer... I find the depth to write
I may march against the enemy to lead the April battle-fight
Me, serious like a helmet-clad beetle, armed with a sting-bite
Me, solemn to buckle down and have a hand in war, if I might.

Or, I opt from battle, for into slumber I plunder
Prematurely into sleep, falling
Cutting the narration short, like scissor to string,
leaving even Ben Franklin wondering.

What a sight from the kite! looking up at the cloud with silver lining
Until enlightenment lighting overshadows the thunder’s loud thinking

Wake Up Good Morning…. This is Africa Calling…

elementary

fire and ice
earth air fire water
earth fire and water

I think there are three most prominent
earth fire water
because what is air? if you consider it space
then you can consider much within this world to be most prominent.

what material is the magic

pillowcase

An Earthbound lifegiver,
a Burner to black,
a Liquidy flowy clear most-basic miracle substance, on this earth.

And an Infinite opening for all, but nothing, a lifebreath interchange, holder of invisible stuff, disintigratey cleardom
whatever you call it - air air everywhere, it's not, but maybe still there
and it may be
that it just [doe[i]sn't matter.

Que raro
"how rare"
(strange! because in Spain the phrase is not that at all.)

I tell you, It's all a matter of -
what we think is the matter
up there in that noodle cadoodle.
The noodle cadoodle! The Fifth Element
After All This Time!

Fuck elementals, don't tell me what the basics are
Fuck You, Science!
...and Thank You for getting me this far

ha

it's all pun
knee

The Nod (live)

When it comes down to it, I don't have anything figured out.
I'm just part of a scope.
"How, you see...? How you see?
...How you say?"

And if I could articulate fluidly
We'd be swimming in the same Sea
Scape
On a hope farm with diversity
Goat
Not an army but an array of uniquity
Free
You can't put an elephant in a tank.
***

When I play Fat Freddy's Drop it makes me feed my fish more. The last sentence is always so relevant

Vessels

It is hard to articulate thoughts from within
What if there are none, and it is bouncing sea water, white-capped and never ending, that fills me up and drowns the whale of a Free Will
All I can do is to stay afloat, the waves will always be beneath me if I just stay afloat… If I keep… going
My heart keeps beating
My body is a raft
Floating with its will
This is how we humans fly.

We are but Vessels
So I have been reading. Hearing
Either way, taking to consideration. Here
Carrying a package home to put into my Heart, maybe
Into that tea tin, maybe, the one where we stash Valuables from History
Things we keep, and keep going, close to our hearts.

Vessels! We carry things around with us, we carry ourselves
A large burden, undoubtedly the focus of all our strength
If we could only just carry one thing.
We have vessels within us
Life vessels, particle slaves that move around at paces we cannot comprehend.
We do not fully know their patterns, their work schedule, their habits and tendencies
That result in a life force, a collaboration of much movement formation
And who is the Controller
Because the aforementioned may go by many names,
(And what’s in a name? a rose by any other name would still smell as sweet
And the front of the book cover "Hindutva" is a Nazi Swastika
But the book is not about that.)

What is your name! controller
How specific your answer
And what is the extent of your claim.
Who Are You, Life Force
At what level doth thou playest
And for whose sake of game?

Is this a search for Truth?
I don’t know myself
I ask the question not to you
But, boldly, to truth itself
In the open air
Hoping it comes out from inconspicuous hiding
inevitably I, not knowing, if and when it does, to believe its tiding.

For all the Who’s, What’s, and Where’s
That are asked along with all other questions out there
There lacks a most curious and daunting What,
That asks all the same: Who, What, Where, and Why
One word that lasts until eternity
And comes first in everyone’s personal definition of Modernity
It is the "What of Within".

So common is this, the avoidance and self-doubt
We clench our fists in silent nonaction
“Thank You Very Much, but I can do Without
Your questioning of the Whats and Withins!” As we shout.

"I can do Without
Your purposeless predicaments you put me in
I can live blissfully Without
Your inquirements, your on-the-spot requirements, of thinking, you see.
No thank you, I’ll pass on your request for response,
You put me in a Where, I don’t want to be."

So What’s With the Within
And Where do I go from here?
Cuz I’m searching for something, some answer
That leads to a path I believe is already there.

The life boat, the vessels that takes us
It is within us, connecting us like an invisible thread
In the Bhagavad Gita, it is said
That with chanting and meditation on the almighty Krishna or some omnipotent God
Can we attempt to be at peace in our bed.

Something is deep within us, a soul
There is a visible difference, the eyes of a Soul and the eyes of the Dead
An apparent Something we cannot explain
A truth from our soul around which we try to wrap our head.

Alas, this is difficult
The stage we are at
Character formed, place in time set, stage and lighting a constant fix
Someone else pulled down the curtain and we are ON, naked and exposed
We try to make the best of our show, have a good time of it and for everyone else too
Use the props that are there, to amuse, and to avoid a Boo.

The occasional Character
Will put down the script
Maybe tear down the curtain
Be done with it.
Maybe they’ll head to stage right
Where there’s a door and a light
Maybe a Wizard behind it
With magic crystals so bright.

Ask the Wizard your questions
He is old and more importantly wise
You can emanate him like an apprentice
And soon with his blessed balloon will you rise.

Learn the tricks of the trade
Enflame the outdated Script someone else made
Immerse yourself in new study
A golden-brick road-path is laid.

Don’t tap out and get distracted
By those shiny red shoes
That sparkle and tingle the senses, make ostentatious material fun
They take you back home to a flat land of one dimension, losing all perspective and landing once again on square one.

No, be not there, distraction!
Of one dimension and flat pages of written script.
Let there be infinite possibility!
An air-balloon to space, reaching new heights, if you know what I mean,
Of new wonders and magic carpets,
That allow you to see the world more clearly
From an Enlightened Above.

Thank You to the Wizard!
And for your curiosity that found him
For in finding him
I allowed myself to astound.
And in finding him, become reassured
That the search for meaning and treasure,
is the same as that taking place within.

green is good

Today was a good day.
Yesterday was a fine day.

Sunday was one fun day.
Saturday was awesome.

not a bragger
just contented
active.

Each day had several highlights.

Like jamming to Zmick and hanging out with all of them at the Canopy last night
like the happy hour at 4 with new friend coworkers b/c of Sunday power outtages
was able to listen to music of my choice at work and read "Self-Realization" on krishna consciousness too
immediately followed by an hour and a half "buzz" run.... racing sundown and the wind
that was followed by a 5 course Indian home-cooked dinner with environmental friends in Urbana
then met up with a favorite person in my world who was visiting that weekend. perfect. and some home-boys too.
Saturday did the campus-cleanup and everything went perfectly... matching t-shirts and all, had time for frisbee and lunch with the volunteers. news reporter and photog even came out. beautiful!
Friday was green happy hippie day for me. at my University it is Unofficial St. Patrick's day. usually I am ridiculous and all over campus all day...but this one was very different. I did start a dance party with randoms at some point tho, but mostly kept to myself and appreciated things green.

I

Three of my favorite Illini Basketball Players are currently playing professionally in Israel.

that is all.

Strip My Mind

Strip Me Down
You can do it, if you won't Someone or something else will

I don't want my clothes on
I don't want my clothes
they are so pretty but so ugly filling up that huge closet
you know the expression, "skeletons in ur closet" -- well I got clothes in mine
big secret
hidden behind an ostentatious shield, lies <-- I despise these ugly words, they bring me down in weakness
thus now it is exposed. THENAKEDTRUTH.

Know me
so few see me for who I am truly
and it's still hard for me to often be myself, truly, because I am disposed to become easily melded into social norms. Daily taking shapes and different forms. Do you hear me, dearest Gumby? My little green magical friend, you have tread lightly upon the earth and represent all that is good, you nurture my creative imagination and let me be me, little Gumby you are my small God, I used to take you by the hand and carry you along wherever I trod...quite literally...

The irony, the connections that form as if all lifely details of mine do 'twine int'r a woven blanket, some queer quilt, ripped in many places, pieces stranded and strung together to fit inside this body of mine, to out-fit with clothes I change several times, to out-fit what I want to exude from my inner energy fit, change clothes quick make it cute, cool, then throw things into the huge closet back, cover it up with a pretty tapestry of green and black, bought from a hippie market that contradicts- offering things we do not lack

a msg from the Post Office

"I don't want to sleep Ever.there is Too Much to Do.i like sleeping It Is Peaceful Though.But i hate the Sacrifice of Time for Sleep." -my thought process as I was walking through my prison-cell apartment.

i feel that this is an entry out of the book Flowers For Algernon. what a sad, sad book. losing your mind and human mentality, losing control eventually turning into your white lab rat. i miss Pinky

what a silly fragment

writing
but not here
internet is a suction of life where we impose upon cyberspace fragments of our humanness
unfortunately I am easily suctioned, always have been, predisposed since mini-life mini-realm games (another post!)
it draws me in somehow, too easily, because I am becoming tied to it, allied with it, in my real life non cyber time
a dilemma you see
when I try to reconcile what part's the fragment and what's me.