The Outside Called (Audio)

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phone

The Outside called.

Anxious nauseous anger

Weakness, vitality drains

Like open vein

How should I answer

Scenarios played out in my head

If this, then that, then this, then that

Same old round and round

Seeking answer, resolution, victory

Weaker with each turn of the wheel

Same old round and round

Turning inside I asked Her

I’ve never done that before

She answered, why would you again give away what belongs to me

The answer is not out there, it is here between us

The Outside called.

I didn’t answer. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Primary Source (Audio)

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I need them not

Repelled by words

Theoretical formulations

Commentary, opinion, drivel

Conjecture about the man

I weary of opinion, reflection

I need to know

Want, require, I demand

The raw material from which the other flows

I need the Prophet not his disciples

I shall make my opinion

And It shall then make me

Reflections

Hall of mirrors

Damn it

Break it

See what remains

No longer image but source

Change the world? (Audio)

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I have decided

I no longer want to change the world

I have failed utterly at that

My powers spent in futile efforts

I am weak

I am so tired I can only focus on what is right in font of me

The huge problems can no longer even hold my attention

But even if I were interested

I can do nothing to alter the current manifestations of the same old shit

There is nothing new under the sun

Well there is Facebook and Twitter and and 24 hour news cycle that spikes anxiety on a mass scale now

Good thing there is 24 hour shopping and all manner of distraction now so that like crackheads we can move between anxiety and binge, anxiety and binge

But nothing is new

Just goes round and round faster

I am jumping off that ride

I don’t think that I am big enough for it anyway

Let the would be movers and shakers be moved and shaken by all of that

I’ve played that game and got the t-shirt, several in fact

But why in the hell did I do all of that for a f..ing t-shirt

I need to focus on something small, something less grand

Perhaps I can start with one thought

I can change one thought

I can do that

I can say yes when I mean yes and no when I mean no

And if I don’t have an answer I can say that too

I can do that

I can be faithful to my promise

I can do that

OK

If I can do those few things

That will change me

And if I am changed then, the world by definition is altered

At least in some small but real way

So if I change me I will change the world after all

 

Ashes (Audio)

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Silence – Seething – Stillness

Ashes – Grey and black fill the throat, choking off life.

Only barren, sterile, ache fills the chest.

The exquisite has abandoned me somewhere between pleasure and pain.

Now only numb, dull, persistent ache.

It is dumb, with no voice, no purpose.

Pain with no purpose is a cruel thing.

Exposed as foolish sears the flesh.  It dries and clings to the bone.

Even the victims triumph over me.  Yet even in all their droning they do not comprehend the wave that crashed over me.  They are right, but only about themselves.

They articulate their pain and their pain demands justice, rightly so.  But I am impotent.  I have no healing to give.  Only ashes.

Tears now, condensed like jelly.  They fill the throat.  They amass themselves behind the eyes, unable to exit the body.  It burns and steals life from me.

Eyes once filled with joy now lifeless.

Bitterness permeates life.  Not bitterness at life but the bitterness of life.

Nothing is sweet.  Joy has abandoned me.

All good seems foul to me, or perhaps it is I who fouls the good.

Laughter of friends and family and loves long-held are no comfort.  I cannot cling to them.

I recoil into the ashes. . . Into the silence.

I know not why.

Except perhaps there I have a voice.

A voice of mourning and terrible grief.

Tenderness and the Real (Audio)

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Tenderness hidden.

Concealed behind the humor, the talent, the success.

Those who know sometimes betray.

Sometimes ignorantly.

Sometimes with a will.

Tenderness hidden.

The betrayal steals life.

But it can also give it.

Illusions shattered.

Only the Real will survive.

Tenderness hidden.

Now uncovered.  Raw, burning, new-born.

Atmosphere sears new lungs.

Life demands pain.

The struggle provides the strength to stand.

The struggle transforms tenderness into wisdom.

AMEN – This is the way of life.