Spiritual practice should be a bright unwavering light in the darkest room.
I open my heart and see something wane, unable to cast a shadow
but in the dark, it is still discernible
it still illuminates, if only a very little
not much to place one's hope on, but something tangible, at least
let us hope for a miracle of watts
multiplying the luminosity of my soul
so I amy find my way back home
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Friday, February 17, 2012
To Be Rescued From A Bottle
Why it is Sometimes Better not to get help when Stuck in a Bottle.
When I was 12, a very young man, I came upon a discarded brown beer bottle. When I picked it up I could feel something inside of it jump. This caused me some dismay so I threw it to the ground. There had been a mouse inside, and now being on the outside, it was dead. I have no recollection why I was picking it up in the first place.
Possessions are Fleeting, but Their Impressions Endure
I was given my first bicycle when I was about 10. It was sparkle blue with powder coated silver mag rims. I was very pleased by this bicycle. It disappeared at some point, never to be mentioned again.
Loneliness is Thwarted by Imagination
I was very fond of building structures with construction toys. I would spend hours playing around those structures with cars and toy soldiers.
We Lose Track of Even the Most Daring of Personal Achievements
I once jumped out of an airplane 6 times. I may have actually done that one more time, in recollection.
Being Loud is Useful in Some Applications
I have yelled at many things in the wilderness. This is a discrete list: a deer, rattle snakes, a king snake, a coral snake ( I could not tell the last two apart, but I have yelled at one of each), water moccasins, a badger, a brown bear, a cougar (that may have been something less bold than a yell), a big horned sheep, several aggressive pitbulls, and a barracuda (that was not so loud, as I was underwater). It must be noted that I was about to collide with the deer, and it looked rather shifty.
Why I would not Advise You to Learn to Skate After Age 18
When I was 20 and in the military, I wanted to teach myself to skateboard. In attempting to learn the rudimentary trick called the ollie, I dislocated my shoulder on the sharp edge of a curb. I had to reduce the dislocation myself as the men watching me simply silently stared.
Some Things are Better Investigated Before One Yells Out Loudly
I once spent the night alone in a sea turtle research facility. I was on the coast, but surrounded by jungle. The windows were mesh. As the sun set, an incessant loud rustle ensued outside my mesh window. Of all the animals I have yelled at, it sounded about the size of a brown bear. Wanting to put my nerves at rest, I went out with a flashlight to scare the beast off. It was a tapir, which is the animal that most resembles a puppeteer’s version of Whinnie the Pooh. I think I also maybe stepped on a turtle egg, but I am not sure.
If you Hated Everything about Texas, You weren’t Trying
One of the few good things about being stationed in Texas was jumping off a cliff into a warm slow river. Another good thing was seeing blues bands in Austin. Another was seeing a grave of a civil war veteran, in a country grave yard, with no fanfare or plaques of condemnation or praise.
You Can’t be Sure What Will Hatch from that Egg
One of my close childhood friends went to seminary and became a sheriff. Another sold speed and committed a felony as an adult. The third quietly lives in Texas with his wife. If he breaks the law, he has not been caught. Do not mistake the fact that he is still, in principal, a scofflaw.
Don’t Point a Gun at Something, Unless you Actually Intend to Shoot That Something
I was playing with a BB gun and shot a humming bird. This is not easy to do. I was overcome with remorse. In a later incident I shot an uncategorized grey bird with a shotgun. It, of course, died from the shock of it all. Again I felt remorseful. I have not killed a bird since then.
It is Easier to Shoot Something by Accident than to Kill it on Purpose
One day I found a jay with a broken wing. It was in obvious pain, and on the threshold of death’s door. The right thing would have been to quickly wring its neck. After shooting a hummingbird, I could not bring myself to do it. I found a coworker who had been raised on a farm and asked him to kill the bird. This he did.
When I was 12, a very young man, I came upon a discarded brown beer bottle. When I picked it up I could feel something inside of it jump. This caused me some dismay so I threw it to the ground. There had been a mouse inside, and now being on the outside, it was dead. I have no recollection why I was picking it up in the first place.
Possessions are Fleeting, but Their Impressions Endure
I was given my first bicycle when I was about 10. It was sparkle blue with powder coated silver mag rims. I was very pleased by this bicycle. It disappeared at some point, never to be mentioned again.
Loneliness is Thwarted by Imagination
I was very fond of building structures with construction toys. I would spend hours playing around those structures with cars and toy soldiers.
We Lose Track of Even the Most Daring of Personal Achievements
I once jumped out of an airplane 6 times. I may have actually done that one more time, in recollection.
Being Loud is Useful in Some Applications
I have yelled at many things in the wilderness. This is a discrete list: a deer, rattle snakes, a king snake, a coral snake ( I could not tell the last two apart, but I have yelled at one of each), water moccasins, a badger, a brown bear, a cougar (that may have been something less bold than a yell), a big horned sheep, several aggressive pitbulls, and a barracuda (that was not so loud, as I was underwater). It must be noted that I was about to collide with the deer, and it looked rather shifty.
Why I would not Advise You to Learn to Skate After Age 18
When I was 20 and in the military, I wanted to teach myself to skateboard. In attempting to learn the rudimentary trick called the ollie, I dislocated my shoulder on the sharp edge of a curb. I had to reduce the dislocation myself as the men watching me simply silently stared.
Some Things are Better Investigated Before One Yells Out Loudly
I once spent the night alone in a sea turtle research facility. I was on the coast, but surrounded by jungle. The windows were mesh. As the sun set, an incessant loud rustle ensued outside my mesh window. Of all the animals I have yelled at, it sounded about the size of a brown bear. Wanting to put my nerves at rest, I went out with a flashlight to scare the beast off. It was a tapir, which is the animal that most resembles a puppeteer’s version of Whinnie the Pooh. I think I also maybe stepped on a turtle egg, but I am not sure.
If you Hated Everything about Texas, You weren’t Trying
One of the few good things about being stationed in Texas was jumping off a cliff into a warm slow river. Another good thing was seeing blues bands in Austin. Another was seeing a grave of a civil war veteran, in a country grave yard, with no fanfare or plaques of condemnation or praise.
You Can’t be Sure What Will Hatch from that Egg
One of my close childhood friends went to seminary and became a sheriff. Another sold speed and committed a felony as an adult. The third quietly lives in Texas with his wife. If he breaks the law, he has not been caught. Do not mistake the fact that he is still, in principal, a scofflaw.
Don’t Point a Gun at Something, Unless you Actually Intend to Shoot That Something
I was playing with a BB gun and shot a humming bird. This is not easy to do. I was overcome with remorse. In a later incident I shot an uncategorized grey bird with a shotgun. It, of course, died from the shock of it all. Again I felt remorseful. I have not killed a bird since then.
It is Easier to Shoot Something by Accident than to Kill it on Purpose
One day I found a jay with a broken wing. It was in obvious pain, and on the threshold of death’s door. The right thing would have been to quickly wring its neck. After shooting a hummingbird, I could not bring myself to do it. I found a coworker who had been raised on a farm and asked him to kill the bird. This he did.
Sunday, February 5, 2012
This Hull of Eden's Garden
the long dead arboreal corpses litter the earth
no place to place this body, no home or kin
everyone faces the executioners wall in the end
a bullet, cancer, automotive carnage
all are unimportant once you have passed on
but what there is to fear is the slow decay on disuse
the acceptance of your social divorce
to be the shadow lurking at the edges of the gay throng
hollow and despised is no way to spend one's scant days
the earth drains the warmth from my feet
the wind blows from the East, brittle cold on my face
the fire is flickering, so I stoke it with a blow torch
I cannot break from the season, though I try
but my mind is only shackled by Winter if I am weak
I struggle not just to be alive, but to understand the mode of this life
domesticated animal, mechanical work drone, raving criminal
I debate this habitually
will I be steel, water, wind, or light
not light, intangible and warm is not my being
maybe water, water has persistence and dynamism. I am not patient yet, but I can take the many forms of solid, liquid, gas
not wind, bluster but no substance. wind is worse than light for me
steel sounds glorious: rigid, cold, useful, damaging in the wrong hands, incumbent on technology.
sadly steel is prone to dissipation at the hands of persistent water
you have to choose a way or be subject to the erratic whims of flux.
The earth is cold and littered with tiny little corpses
no one mourns and nothing changes for these dead
only the living have a hope at change.
but so little is seen with this paltry world blinding us daily.
no place to place this body, no home or kin
everyone faces the executioners wall in the end
a bullet, cancer, automotive carnage
all are unimportant once you have passed on
but what there is to fear is the slow decay on disuse
the acceptance of your social divorce
to be the shadow lurking at the edges of the gay throng
hollow and despised is no way to spend one's scant days
the earth drains the warmth from my feet
the wind blows from the East, brittle cold on my face
the fire is flickering, so I stoke it with a blow torch
I cannot break from the season, though I try
but my mind is only shackled by Winter if I am weak
I struggle not just to be alive, but to understand the mode of this life
domesticated animal, mechanical work drone, raving criminal
I debate this habitually
will I be steel, water, wind, or light
not light, intangible and warm is not my being
maybe water, water has persistence and dynamism. I am not patient yet, but I can take the many forms of solid, liquid, gas
not wind, bluster but no substance. wind is worse than light for me
steel sounds glorious: rigid, cold, useful, damaging in the wrong hands, incumbent on technology.
sadly steel is prone to dissipation at the hands of persistent water
you have to choose a way or be subject to the erratic whims of flux.
The earth is cold and littered with tiny little corpses
no one mourns and nothing changes for these dead
only the living have a hope at change.
but so little is seen with this paltry world blinding us daily.
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