POEMS : 2019

2019-01-05

Bro

I’m running down a Mexican highway

Making room for the future

Dancing in a Ho’oponopono graveyard

I love you

I’m sorry 

Please forgive me

Thank you 

Imagine all of humanity 

Saying this at the same time 

I love you 

I’m sorry 

Please forgive me

Thank you

To themselves 

To each other

To god 

To the devil

To the lunatic on the fringe

The capitalist making capital on capital hill

To the mother raising a teenager just discovering their own will. 

To think with a unified thought 

We could change the structure of everything

Or we could make it suddenly bloom into what it actually is or always has been 

Until then

I’m running down a Mexican highway 

Repeating it as I stare into the sun

As rusty Toyota trucks roll by with workers in the back 

Here in the holy land. 

I love you 

I’m sorry 

Please forgive me

Thanks you

---

2019-01-08

Paradise isn’t a place 

Paradise is a state of mind 

Said the owl as he landed 

In the land with no time

Easy for you to say

I said as he froze

With your elegant wings

And diamonds for toes! 

He grimaced 

And said Hoo! 

Do you think that you’re not?

Hoo! Were you after 

Time tried to rot?

Hoo! Were you dreaming

That you might become

On a beach made of sand 

With an infinite sun? (I said...)

I thought I’d be sheltered 

And yet somehow free

I didn’t know we had to sacrifice 

Hoo! We used to be. 

Paradise isn’t a place

Paradise is a state of mind 

The moment this moment 

The only moment you find.

---

2019-03-25

The mistake is to think you ever arrive anywhere at all. 

Cause when you get there

Who have you become?

You’re not who you were when you started. You can’t be. 

Who you were would have never made it this far. 

Not here

Not a life run on discipline 

A life anchored in daily practice of meditation and exercise. 

When I landed in LA about three weeks ago give or take. 

I was on “my path man”

I was coming off of two months in Todos Santos

Embracing nature

Breath work

Yoga

Running

Boxing

Pilates and music. 

I was basking in the unshakable foundation of my discipline 

Or so I thought

Cause in actual fact what was about to happen was

I was gonna get leveled by a strange LA flu that is infamous for a lengthy recovery time

Three weeks is what I kept hearing

And three weeks was about what it’s taken me to get back into a zone similar to what I arrived here in. 

It’s humbling watching your health crumble

And to see your rock solid anchors of activity and chi building exercises get ripped from you like nothing at all

And then for the thought gremlins to reintroduce themselves to psyche 

But now with the added ammunition of

“See what all your hard work did? See it was all an illusion, you delude yourself”

“You can’t win... yada yada yada “

It goes on

I’m sure you have your version of thought gremlins. They seem to be human nature and they seem to define what a practice of discipline is really all about. 

It’s to overcome those negative voices 

Over and over again

And not to arrive anywhere

Except 

Actually arrive in the day

Actually make it to the gift being presented to you

Beyond sickness I was too taken with my previous location 

Or maybe not too taken maybe just in love with it. 

But regardless of that. You don’t need oceans and blue skies

You carry those things in your heart. You are the ocean. 

Every time you overcome that negative voice and make positive motions towards that higher aspect of yourself watching it all go down. The witness. 

The mistake is too think you ever arrive anywhere at all

Cause when you get there

Who have you become? Hopefully love or at least leaning that way

---

2019-03-26

Things disappear that you don’t use. 

Things like your voice. 

Things like your heart. 

We are dynamic anarchists

Or we are nothing at all

To shrink is to disappear

To remain silent 

Is to become invisible before you are gone 

Watching yourself rotting on the vine

Unsure of why you never fully blossomed 

Things disappear that you don’t use

Things like boundaries 

Things like identity

And not in that Holy Spirit enlightenment sort of way

Not in the good way where you silence the mind to arrive in the moment. 

But rather you become a living ghost of yourself 

Haunting the dusty rooms of regret 

Wondering what might have been

Against the dog toothed snarl of some ancestral chastising mind

And it feels like it comes from ancestors

The level of dysfunction

So resolute 

Hard to detect

Powerful

So in keeping with the building blocks of your identity 

That to tell it 

Apart from you

To differentiate the dysfunction 

As too not really being of your core,

To not really being who you are, 

Seems nearly impossible 

Or at least,by the time you realize it, you are probably on the fringes of a mental breakdown. 

You have never been 

Yourself at all

So who were you then?

Who implanted the programming?

And who implanted that programming into them?

And the ones before them and on down the line to the beginning of time?

Who set up this play between

Life and death

Light and dark

Consciousness and unconsciousness 

The increasing consciousness only really expanding just how widely you see that you were never anything at all. 

These building blocks of a life. 

Family

And friends

History

All of it

Thin ice to build a home upon

All of it 

Subject to inevitable disaster

And yet giving up 

And becoming a ball of ambivalence 

Is no answer to the weight of this gift called life. 

So what’s the answer?

I think it might be... The moment. 

All I know that when you frame up life in a way that makes it a challenging game. And when you play it that way, it can be a lot of fun.

---

2019-04-04

Take flight on those dreams of yours

Take flight

Let the universe expand itself through you

Those are the measure of your dreams (how the universe expands itself through you!) Don’t mean this nasty old world ain’t cruel sometimes 

Don’t mean it won’t test you when you try taking off

Don’t mean you won’t have to unwrap yourself out of the layers of failure and or faulty programming 

But take flight on those dreams of yours

Even if the flight is only a baby step to the sky

Take flight

---

2019-04-11

So what if the mystics are right

What if you really are God 

Does that mean you created spandex leopard pants? 

Or French toast in Babylon? 

What if the dreamers of manifestation are right?

And aren’t they though?

What if this is like the matrix where you can have anything you desire if your belief in it is strong enough or a vibrational match

Have we really created every aspect of our existence 

All the disappointments?

The heartbreaks?

The disabilities?

The rough times?

Is it like they say

Is this a not so serious game where god came down as man forgetting he was god on some hide and seek shit with himself?

Is that really what this is? 

There can be no light without dark

But why make this so hard?

I guess were it not so intense the poetry of death would have no violins. No voila! No orchestra calling us back into the lingering mourning of our souls reaching from the depths to the light with nothing but the engine of faith.

---

2019-05-28

Today we get after it. 

Fishing into the river of life. 

We catch the equivalent of what we put on the hook. 

The devil talking us out of our fortune 

Says. It’s ok sons and daughters

For you to drift. For you to take it easy. 

But this isn’t a take it easy kinda world. That 

Was the last lifetime. Or maybe the next. 

This one

This one

This one requires

Your whole heart

Your whole soul

To push past the instructions of your limitations

And battle past the skeletons

Reaching from the ground

Trying to pull you down. East River. NYC

---

2019-05-30

Be bold. 

Be bold AF

This world is full of killers and slaves. 

This world full of people just like you

Looking for a way out. 

There is none. 

No way out. 

What happens on the other side of eternity

Is anybody’s guess

And nobody’s business. 

For now

Be bold. 

Be bold AF.

---

2019-05-30 (2)

A man has as many masters as he has vices

St Augustine 

Discipline is freedom

A doorway to the out of bounds reality calling you 

Home. 

Discipline is like a blue door 

Walk through it turning red

Into purple fictions of what and who you are becoming

As you are

Becoming real. 

Discipline is freedom

There’s that meme going round

Depend on someone else’s approval and you are their prisoner 

Same can said for anything you rely on 

To make it through another 24

Rely on nothing 

But discipline 

You have a roll here. Discipline will guide you to it. And believe me. We need you. We need you to step up. Not just for you. But for everyone.

---

2019-06-01

Rocket Man

When you identity 

And plunge underneath a storm

Back into the coldness

From whence you come

The ways you tried to scandalize love

From the woodwork

Getting nothing but splinters

In every direction

Your song blown open in the treason of your soul

(Who you might become)

Times like these when you could squash the haters 

Like mosquitoes by your indifference 

Cuz 

They don’t know 

What ashes you’ve risen from

And they can’t yet see the flames beneath your feet

For now

Just be here and lay in the dark

And wait for the truth

To unravel you again.

---

2019-06-01 (2)

Running into sunrise

A child is born

A brand new child in your heart

In your mind

Running into sunrise

The mistakes of the past

Like dried up feathers

Simply crunch beneath your feet

As birds take flight 

On the street

I love you

I’m sorry please forgive

Me

Thank you

A faraway voice whispers this

And also calls you home 

Running into sunrise.

---

2019-06-02

Blow air into this life

Blow air into each other

The oxygen of inspiration 

The air of love 

The devil is a bankrupt con job

As is your fear

Blow by it

And keep the faith 

Resonate with Joy

The darkness can’t find you there. Good morning. 

---

2019-06-07

Life is an improvisation. 

There’s over five thousand roads 

And they’ll all take you home

Which keys will you jam on,

The way out of Babylon ? And

How in tune did you want your song? 

The graffiti on the bathroom wall,

Will it match your tombstone?

Cause life is an improvisation. 

It has specific notes 

To dance upon. And 

Other notes that train the new dawn, 

And still many more for moving on, 

And at least five thousand roads

That will all take you home. 

Can you invent a new key 

That breaks open the sun

Can you play it backwards 

Through what you have done? On 

A broken piano on the streets yet to come, 

This life is an improvisation.

---

2019-06-08

Miro At MOMA. Nothing has to make sense. 

Limbs don’t need to be attached to a body

A chunk of rope can land on painted cardboard 

And then sit forever upright in a box 

The palette can be simple 

We can trip and fall in a vast array

Or an economy of ideas 

It need not seem that we have died for our work

Or even bled for it

Though I’m sure we have

I’m sure he did

Probably over and over again

But it need not lose its sense of play

It’s lightness 

Even if it’s pointing us towards a dark corridor. 

Most lock themselves out of their imagination 

I suppose just holding onto your imagination (in this world) 

Is an act of war

To some

To many 

I actually don’t know anything about the man

And I’m not too curious to find out. 

Here’s what I do know just by looking at his paintings. 

He was a punk

And a card

And a genius. 

And That’s enough.

---

2019-06-08 (2)

Your Time Is A Birthday Gift Wrapped Up In Moments. 

So 

Don’t waste your time

Not even a minute of it. 

Not even a second. 

And don’t allow anyone the privilege, 

To waste your time for you. 

Don’t entertain the fools who won’t support you. 

For many of them simply, 

Do not know how. 

But don’t waste time 

Feeling sorry for them. 

Wish them well and move on. 

Don’t waste time. 

Your time is a birthday gift wrapped up in moments. 

One day each minute will be worth

More than a million dollars. 

One day every second

Will be a diamond falling through the cracks.

---

2019-06-09

It Takes Courage 

It takes courage to embrace your past

It takes courage to own your future

It takes courage to walk into the now

And lift the sunlight on your shoulders

It takes courage to answer your phone

Especially when no one is calling

It takes courage to wake up alone

Continually falling

And rising again

First your skin

Then your bone

It takes courage to lift your face

Under a crown

Beneath a new throne

It takes courage to defend with the jab

To move to the right 

And then the left (out of sight)

It takes courage to utter your name

With a tone of real pride 

In the absence of shame

(To not continue to hide)

It takes courage to walk down the street

To lift up the elephants, who stand on your feet

To create something from nothing

And never compete

It takes courage to know

You’re the one you defeat

And it takes courage to know

You’re the one that you seek.

---

2019-06-10

Walking on stars

On the way out of Babylon

Walking on stars 

On your way back home 

Running into fragments

Of who you’ve become

Dancing with the shadows

Who wink in the sun

Walking on stars 

More stars to come

If you miss one you fall

And bounce off the sun

Walking on stars

Until you can run 

The light

Where you’re going

The dark

Where you’re from

---

2019-06-11

The Kingdom Above 

We blossom in strange ways

Like lotus flowers 

Or lunatics

Like captains of industry

On benders of misfortune

Like pent up boxers

With gigantic smiles 

Smiles like galaxies 

Folding like leaves 

We blossom in strange ways 

And especially when we pay attention

To the kingdom above pulling 

Invisible strings 

Purple forgotten

Jumping rope alone

Training for what?

Proving what?

To who and how? 

There is no other

There is the strange ways we blossom

Under opaque skies 

Giving us a hint 

To surrender.

---

2019-06-13

Aliens Fishing For Dreams 

When I was young...

But I was never that way

The oldest soul looking way way up

Into far away skies

My eyes like tiny ponds 

With worms descending on strings from stars

Like aliens fishing for dreams

They’d plop out one by one. First a goldfish. Then a shark. Then something that looked like Bigfoot. Then a robot that chased Bigfoot up a tree and shot it with lasers. 

And now that I’m old... but really 

I was never that way

The youngest soul around 

Looking way way up

Still with those funny worms on strange hooks

Like expanded pupils dancing into the day turning dusk into spider webs. 

Falling from faraway stars 

Wild strings and aliens fishing for dreams. 

Eyes like tiny ponds, a bit bigger now is the only difference. A few swimmers have gotten lost in there. And as those 

tears splash the dreams yank out!

First a whale, then a stranger, then a ghost of the Loch Ness monster and a tiger chasing em up that tree! 

Making us younger 

Than we was yesterday. 

These aliens fishing for dreams.

---

2019-06-14

Let go

The drunks say

Let god and let go

Or is it let go and let god? 

I say

Let go of even that

Simply let go

Move into the air of forgiveness 

And then let go

You were a victim

Let go of that

You were a predator

Let go of that too

Let go of the past

Let go of the future

Let go of right now

And finally be here now

Let go 

You were a damned child on the periphery of the devil’s shadow?

Weren’t we all?

Let go

You were a rock n roller caving into a cocaine mountain?

Wipe the blood from your nose

And let go

You were a guru with a butterfly knife 

Trying to cut people out of their prisons

All of them self imposed?

Let go of that too

Let go and leap

Take all your clothes off

And leap before god and before the universe

And show them what you’ve learned here. 

Show them

You’ve learned to let go

---

2019-06-15

A falling star running 

It used to be who I want to be

Before I even knew who or what that is

Now it’s just who I am

The process of becoming

A gift that unwraps 

Itself before the eyes Of god

The birthing process we under go

If we allow ourselves that strange gift

That magic track back home

If we ignore the disbelievers 

The ones who don’t believe in us

If we ignore those who step to our time

With claims of ownership 

If we reclaim 

Both our space and our time

And we give ourselves plenty of reasons

To finally become

We can light up a path

For the whole world to follow and see

We can light up a path

To freedom

It used to be who I wanted to be

Before I even knew who or what that was

Before yoga bent my body into healing

So that my mind and spirit could take flight

So that I could run distances every morning 

And fill up with oxygen 

And defeat smoke

Beat the devil and watch him choke

And smile 

As I say over and over again

I love you

I’m sorry

Please forgive me

Thank you

Until those phrases were no longer just something I said or heard

But the building blocks of who I am

Who I am becoming

The beautiful unfolding 

A falling star running

---

2019-06-16

Lift off

Into dreams 

You had no idea

You had

Who egged on your potential

Laughing at a wall? 

Lift off 

Cause what choice do you have?

Each human animal

A strange spiritual rocket

Lift off. 

Who won’t count you down?

Who won’t light your fuse?

Lift off ... but 

Let’s frame that in the positive now

Who will count you down?

Who will light your fuse? 

Are you waiting on another human animal?

If so, 

You’ll be waiting a long long time

And just as likely as not

That time will never come. 

There is a spirit surrounding you

Waiting for you

To see it

Waiting for you

To say hi

Waiting for you

To lift off

Waiting for you

To know

That it is there for you

And just you

Whispering all the time...

Lift off.

---

2019-06-18

Strawberry moon

I took a bite and the blood ran down my chin

Over the hill of my lip

Like a skier (dressed in all red) in slow motion going over a drift in the Andes

Strawberry moon 

I all but glanced your way

Reciting a mantra of forgiveness 

Caught in the web of a spider 

Peering into me with eyes of infinity

Strawberry moon

I escaped and found myself dancing a tango

With cleopatra 

I smiled at her as the thought came (in perfect sync, each sound she made, a mysterious symphony) “Out of the frying pan

Into the frier” 

From one danger to the next this life

The worst danger of all

Is being afraid of danger. 

Strawberry moon

I got punched in the nose and I was out of breath

And yet the gloves and arms kept swinging

The tornado of man

His aggression 

His beautiful play (why was I in this ring again, and why shouldn’t I be?) Punching my guts bending over

The bell ringing as we get broken into the fullness of what we could be. 

Strawberry moon

I lay in a bed of all white, a tremendous duvet covering me like a cloud as dawn rose through the cracks in my window

(You once again fade away)

Dreaming of future battlefields 

Knowing that I will survive as I have so many times before 

And waiting for you to come again

My strawberry moon.

---

2019-06-22

‘It’s A Knockout’ For everything you have missed

You have gained something else

That was the quote at the end of yoga class

I could see it as true

I could also see it as wishful thinking

But which of us has asked to be born

And how quickly will death come? 

Therefore all of this

Is a game without stakes

“Go in harder 

Don’t be afraid to get hit”

That’s what Martin told me in the ring

His big arms hitting me with an over hand right every time I tried to hit him with mine

But that’s how boxing goes

Just like life

When you take a shot

You’re open to getting hit

Don’t be afraid is what he says. Over and over

In yoga class they play sappy acoustic music 

The kind of music that makes you feel emotional when in dead mans pose

For everything you’ve lost

You’ve gained something else

I think of those kids I no longer see

Certain things are too painful to think on for long

“How come I get so winded when I spar” I asked Martin

I jog like five miles everyday?!

He said

“It’s cause you’re all tense, you got a five hundred pound gorilla you’re carrying around with you, but you did good today kid”

As I peddled to yoga after the ring

I kept pressing in my nose

Hoping it wasn’t broken

It wasn’t 

He’s right ya know

Don’t be afraid to get hurt

This life

Is gonna take care of that anyway

And for everything you miss

You gain something else.

---

2019-06-23

Going Fishing With Dr. Joe Dispenza. Your personality 

Creates your personal reality

repetitive patterns get locked like a computer program 

A habit is when 

Body over brain

People are on auto pilot 

Learning is new connections 

Footprints of consciousness 

One bit of info

Doubles amount of connections

But they prune apart unless you remember 

So Memory is maintenance 

If you aren’t defined by a vision

Then you are predictable 

New thoughts 

New choices

New behavior

New experience 

Is evolution 

If your brain is a record of the past 

Without a vision of the future

Then You live in the past

Unable to arrive at your new future. 

Feelings and emotions are end products of past experiences. 

You can remember experience because of how they feel

Jungles of neurons make connections called emotions

If feelings and emotions are end products of past experience 

And you feel the same way everyday

Then nothing new is happening

And you can’t think greater then how you feel 

Cause of events that have branded you emotionally 

And you have shame or guilt or sadness 

All of those feelings are created by the past 

Those emotions drive thoughts 

The repetition of that cycle conditions the body to memorize that state better than the mind 

And so your body is also in the past

So if you can’t think greater than how you feel 

Your stuck 

So most people spend their lives talking about why they can’t arrive at their vision of the future. 

People remember traumas 

Which keep them glued to the past 

And repeating it. Over and over and over again 

Thoughts are the language of the brain

Feelings are the language of the body

How you think and how you feel

Creates your state of being 

So you create your destiny by feeling insecure 

And saying out loud. I am insecure

It becomes a self fulfilling prophecy 

And this is why people can only (typically) change when trauma happens 

Cause then they no longer feel like themselves 

And can observe themselves 

Like looking at yourself as someone else 

You can’t create a new future holding onto the emotions of the past 

To change is to think greater than your environment 

To think greater than you feel 

Means you need a vision

---

2019-06-25

In A Fight That Never Ends 

Spray. Paint. Mix. 

Ship. 

Being an artist is more difficult 

Than most jobs. 

I know right?!

Turns out it’s the truth. 

It was meant to be wild nights of folly

Where we measured our abandon with 

What we can’t control

And as it turned out

We couldn’t control anything. 

Especially ourselves. 

Being an artist was meant to be like 

Becoming the paint at the end of

Jackson pollack’s brush

Where you simply got flicked into the oblivion of a masterpiece 

To meet the canvas of immortality

It was meant to be 

Having a skull

Like the one on Keith’s finger

Banging strings 

Like a drunk bangs the wall of cell he’s been put in to sleep it off. 

We were meant to be made of steel

Until finally we met our maker, 

Or stuffed our mattress full of bills, 

Like Rimbaud at the end of his short life refusing to write another word,

Because humanity doesn’t deserve it,

And regretting the words that he did. 

Or was that just an excuse? 

It was meant to be easy

But 

I practically worship every failure

Cause 

Every hardship

is a measure of Gods faith in you 

to overcome, to transcend 

To be more than you once were and lift yourself off the canvas again. 

Being an artist was meant to be easy (after a limited period of struggle)

But as it turns out

It’s a lot like being a boxer

In a ring with no bell

Against more than one fighter

In a fight that never ends. 

And 

Thank God.

---

2019-07-14

Ghosted unicycles. 

Don’t let those ghosted in their own fear

Stop you from your message,

Keep you from your light. 

Don’t allow the ghosted ones

To ghost you

In your own fear

In your own rotten neighborhood. 

Elevate and reprogram 

A corrupted mind

Like software set to rewind and explode,

But you can stop it. 

You can reroute and reprogram. 

And when the smears come...

So what?

When the architects of your failure

Make posters 

And pass out fliers 

Behind the shadows of your eyes

When long lost friends turn out to be flying monkeys again

Understand it is only God bringing you further into your resources

Encouraging you to double down

To pray

Again

For those that root for your failure

Even if they are your blood. 

Especially when they are your blood

We are all blood of the same blood

And we are connected like a giant river through the cosmos

Flaring up a collection of stars turning red as we dream

Don’t worry about what those who aren’t in the arena have to say about you

Those who hide behind avatars and fake names

Their voices count for nothing but the destruction of courage born out of their own destroyed dreams

Their words are like a virus you need not catch. 

Instead shine your vulnerable light on all of us and show us who you are. 

Fearless and afraid

Both sides splattered against 

This digital window

Called reality. 

Don’t allow the ghosted ones

To leave you ghosted. 

Embrace the flowers

Sink the bucket

Ride the unicycle 

All the way home.

---

2019-08-09

Toy Trains

I am the one witnessing my thoughts

I’m not the one thinking them 

I am the poem writing itself

On the cusp of Babylon

Leaping into the sun sideways

I am the witness of the yogi

Or rather I am yoga

I am the bending into form

That decides when it wants to silence the mind

When will you get your head out of your mind? One of the teachers asks and nobody answers. 

Are you waking into an endless thought form and identifying yourself as that?

Are you following a monkey on a gerbil wheel 

Into a laughing hyena on fire?

Because you could just as easily step out of that

And watch the toy train crash itself into the brick wall of your memory

And laugh at the confused child as you pet his head awake

Or you could pretend you are the confused child

Angry at God, 

Ghosts and pianos

Banging with fists

Your head against the wall of the infinite cracking...

Cracking of the skull

A lightning bolt

Made of silence

When you wake 

Up

To what you actually are.

---

2019-08-09 (2)

Wink or (the devil hanging by a shoestring) 

When people let you down

It’s a gift

A secret ghost

You have to run to hear it tho

Through the backyards of where they’re hiding

And past the snickering voices

And coded emojis (plus too many choices) 

When people betray you

It’s a blessing

To take the beating within 

And translate it into a blossom

(A beating is a blossom of thorns and fists and instructions to out last them) or the devil hanging by a shoestring against infinity lights. 

Tho it take a lifetime

Tho it take a lifeline

You can always find a tractor cutting grass

And breath into the memories of an innocence, 

That really was, 

Never all your own. 

But never mind the pacts writ in blood 

Never mind the language of the underhanded or (the devil smirking in the corner) 

This world is always yours to reinvent

This world is always a launching pad

Into the next

And what if the sun is nothing but Gods right eye? 

And the moon his left? 

It means he always winks at us

No matter where we walk

Or when.

---

2019-08-10

Eternity’s Ladders 

That moment...

A lightning bolt moment...

The moment you saw those towers

And knew

What it was made for

Who it was built for

The wings it could give you

The fame

The beauty

The risk 

The place where a final breath becomes a flower in mid air 

The moment you step on a wire between eternities. 

You say there was no “why?” But of course there was. 

It just lives in a place words can’t touch or operate. 

And so it’s easier to just say there is no reason at all. 

And the destruction to follow

The way destruction seems to follow dreams fulfilled like an out of control shadow 

looming on buildings when they fall. 

And who could have known that they would fall before you did?

And your friends

Filled with your dream,

Which then captured the world,

But what did it mean?

When the wire was once again 

Between two trees in your backyard 

Only five feet off the ground?

Life is about risk

And not just any risk

But to risk the impossible

And gamble every breath. 

That seems true but so few live that way. 

My question is

When you laid down between two points on eternity’s ladders

Was it as if you were laying in the palm of God’s hand 

Hoping he would pull you to his chest? 

P.S. 

I like the part about crutches

How misfortune came to your rescue

How a rusty nail poked its way through your foot

And gave you a tunnel

To limp past security at dawn

Without questions.

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2019-08-12

To Knock Out The Devil

You bend your perceptions to where they go

Like riding a wild buck you have to tame

Meditation is the saddle

And then you guide the mind

The narc teaches us how easy that is

Through gaslighting 

Blame shifting

Love bombing and silence

They show us how easy it is to manipulate 

And so when you wake up from the catastrophe of rebirth

You backwards engineer enlightenment from the playbook of Jezebel

But let’s not focus on them

Let’s see the bird flying past the sun and the bridge

On the east river of this wonderful morning

Where your big idea is to create

Joy and peace and love 

For yourself and everyone you know 

And the even bigger idea....

To know that it is possible

Just bend your mind that way

Shift it from fear and the elements of control

Wash it of the washing 

And understand that if you really want to confront evil

You will languish in its opposite

You sit in the bosom of love 

And bloom like a hyper realized flower

Made of glass and bliss and fragments which were confiscated from heaven 

Or jodorowsky's hidden masterpiece 

Spread joy and love and compassion

And you will do much to smack the devil down

Spread the idea that it is possible for others 

And you may well knock him out.

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2019-08-18

I would have stayed quiet 

I would have shut up

You have no idea how cowardly I was

You have no idea how brave you made me

When you sent in the screws to wind me up

Like the damaged clock you always said I was

When the hammer came down

To finally send my springs asunder 

That’s when I had to wonder

Just who I was staying quiet for. 

You have no idea

That I would have taken 

All of this with me 

I would have been 

Scattered bones

With untold voices 

Howling inside

The dirt never letting go 

Never giving me an escape or surrender

But when I saw the hammer come down

And saw that it was you lighting the match

I had to wonder

What I was staying silent for 

And who it was

That might need my voice to roar.

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2019-08-22

Don’t lose faith

Not now

Not ever 

Realize there are those that want you too though, 

Lose faith...

They’ll throw pies filled with vermin

At your face from the edge of oblivion (and from thought alone) 

They’ll try to ignite jealousies inside of you

That are of their own making

Like corpses reaching through their eyes

From their ancestors underground (dark skies) 

What business is it of yours?

What blueprint should you follow?

Certainly not theirs (don’t apologize) 

The faithless can only lead you if you agree to their leash (faith will break it) 

If you choose to wear their collar (you’ll have to fake it) 

Your business is none of theirs

And theirs is none of yours

They are dancing in purgatory with phantoms (but) 

You need not become one. 

Your business 

Is guiding your mind to what you want from this life

Your business is maintaining your faith

Like a garden which demands daily water

That comes from the holiest of sources

The scars of your suffering (the blood river courses) 

And the willingness to rise from them.

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2019-08-24

Follow the hunch 

That’s how divinity comes in

In a whisper

In a glance

A scattered thought dancing past you at dawn

Follow that shit

It holds your hand

Out of Babylon 

Follow the hunch 

Put your troubles in a bunch

And let them loose to the edge of reason

(throw them off some ledge like the burning flowers they always were) 

Thinking is out of season

But a hunch comes from the gut

Like a punch

Taking you out of a rut.

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2019-08-25

who told you it was impossible?

To begin again

To overcome the limitations you always scattered on your path (another lost friend) 

To tie your shoes

And not to each other 

Stumbling like a clown painted for a portrait on Sunday morning (the mirroring sin) 

Who told you it was impossible

To pick up from where you left off

To resist despair

To fill your lungs once again with clean air

To run as if a child or a crazy saint

After a moon

Made from third eyes and paint

Who told you it was impossible 

To light up the spinning ball

So that your room could be a discotheque of dreams (on the wall) 

A kind of counterfeit ball

Which screams after the beams

Revealing the dust of your window

(The sun finally shining through. Good morning! ) or the lust of the widow when crawling. 

And who told you it was impossible? 

To look through the cracks

Back at a reflection of who you might have been (an eagle soaring) (A mirror hung with high hopes and bubblegum tacks) 

Escaping the tourniquets of time

Becoming sublime on disposable racks (never mind the bollocks or blood on the tracks) 

Shattering glasses and spilling red wine

Who told you it was impossible

Walking the line? 

And how were those words delivered?

Was it a message made of snakes filling up nightmares you weren’t aware you could hide away from (or didn’t want to) 

Slither and shake

Don’t you know you were supposed to run? (Holding the money after robbing the bank) 

There was nothing brave about staying

Glued inside a thrift store painting

Aping love (ya ape!) As it gets traded on a double down highway (another Superman without a cape)

Like polaroids sheltering the skies of abuse (a dark hand coming down from a shadow above

Disguised as a truce) 

Who told you it was impossible?

And how long will it take you to make your own mind up about these things (everybody footloose!) Filling in the blanks

Like flames made out of flapping wings

Like kingdoms that lie in wait for kings 

Like a diamond dreaming on a ring

About a marriage of your voice to sing (a song for the duck to duck and then goose) 

Who told you it’s impossible.

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2019-08-26

And what about the wind?

Which calls hurricanes home

In your heart

Like a beat boxer

Falling from the leaping bridge

(Or drifting like the petals off a flower)

What about the night?

Which kisses the dark

In a rummaging light

(The wilderness spark)

Mixed up from all the dreams it’s had before

And what about the grass?

(Always growing more and more)

That cracks beneath running feet

Flipping out bugs and sleet

(The color green that lifts the street)

What about voices?

Hauling themselves through space

As if carried by the wind

(And too many choices) 

Divorced from the mouths that launched them

(Their message always fading and falling into mountains becoming) music. 

And What about music? (Yes music!)

Flowing in the park in the afternoon (Heavy metal ritual, blood and perfume)

A Jazz from a bygone era

Where the humans rattle and flow

(All of them gone too soon) 

Another saxophone solo. 

Remembering what we could be

Held captive in our own cocoon 

And what about fire?

(So far from the moon)

Cooking the harvest at dawn

(Eggs scramble) 

The hell scapes we engage in (Another lost gamble)

Shouting “get off my lawn!”

Blueprints of our decisions to cool it

And once we leave who’d ask us to return ?

Asks the wind (ask the dust)

(And what about the wind?)

I don’t know

The figures say to each other (one me one you)

Cloaked in dusk (again) 

And what about dusk?

That performance of transformation (As the street singers busk)

The universe jettisons on us daily

The place where you can hide

(Before you start healing) 

Like a painted bee (stinging) being stuck sideways

On a thumbnail of a bus

Looking for another way home (And singing)

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2019-11-24

I didn’t come this far

To only get this far

I didn’t come this far

To not tell my story

To fold like a bad hand

To believe the devil when he says

You fucked up. It’s over now

Can you relate to that?

Have you taken a step back and taken the blemish on your progress as the end of it?

Let me tell you that’s a trick

That’s the devils sleight of hand

But don’t believe it. Steps back allow you to see how far you’ve come.

They add depth to your vision

Depth to the vision of who you’re becoming. Who you’ve become.

Everyday you’re born into a new opportunity to elevate your station and perspective

To say to yourself

I didn’t get this far to only get this far. Keep swinging.

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