Note to Self

I've had enough
of these erudite,
witty word-plays,
idea-games,
tales with twisting tails,
subtle stories with subtler germs of a gist...

just say it.
just say
you either hate this life
or you love it,
in as simple words as you can,

and you can say both at once,
in fact, if you don't,
you're lying,
and you're not a poet,
you're a politician.

Ramble about seeing 2001:space odyssey sequel

I arrived at our storefront church last night with key in hand, armed with chips and honey-roasted peanuts. Made coffee quickly then got on a computer, put on the Phoenix Project's soundboard and speakers and checked e-mail while a U2 youtube video blared and I waited to see if anyone would show up.
I figured I'd be the only one this movie nite. El pastor was out of town @ another church's event and she and one other had been the only ones at last month's movie nite.
I left my e-mail on and popped in the video. I'd seen 2010 before, 20 years ago or so, at my parent's house, the same house I still dream of right before waking about 3 times a month.
I will divulge some here, but not enough of the movie so you won't want to see it. It is based on Arthur C. Clarke's sequel to 2001, and, in a deft way, answers all of the questions that Clarke, or maybe it was just Stanley Kubrick, left so wildly flailing in the space above Jupiter in the space odyssey. (if you haven't seen 2001 -- see it...now!)
I watched the first few minutes, as 2001 was cleverly and clearly summarized. Then I pulled out the peanuts, poured some coffee, and settled into a couch.
A few minutes later, my friend Andy showed up, walking in through the front door with his characteristic entrance -- think Lenny and/or Squiggy from Laverne and Shirley. (or think Kramer, if you like).
It was just the two of us that night.
The movie was seamless. Bright, interesting, sexy with no sex scenes. (did you ever think you'd want to make out with Helen Mirren? Just flashback thirty years or so).
The ending, some might call it corny, b/c as i said, all of the questions are answered. But hell, what good are mysteries if there's no answer? There will be enough mysteries in this life, don't worry.

Monk

Oh, jeez, no entries in April. Someone has been mighty busy -- or just frustrated about his blog (readership). Well, I wanted to put this one out there, even if it's a shout out in outer space, because, I LOVE this (old) poem.




I am a monk
I effort to stay celibate.
I am a Samaritan
I do good deeds.
I go get drunk
because I feel lucky tonight.

I do not know myself

I hang out with my friends
because I want to know warmth and happiness

I say goodbye to my friends
because they don’t live up to my
impeccable moral standards

Truly, I don’t know myself

I scratch my head,
puzzle at the wonder
of who it is I am

I beat the ground
I break the timepiece
I cackle into the night,
“I am mad. I am free.”
But I am neither.

the new science

time shifts
it's hard to believe
continents drift
is this
where we're going?

are the Florida keys
really to be
consumed by snow,
Haiti, by gold?

the world moves
into the end of the
beginning;
what we once knew for certain
we can no longer accept;
the new science
is hard to believe --
can it really add up
to happiness?

the material world
an illusion
human life
obsolete

we live now
in love alone
and everyone is equally wealthy
with absolutely nothing

behind every closed door

gravel fills my mouth;
I bide in the great northern lights
of my heart of hearts.

talk of me
is cheap these days;
those who attended my funeral
put on a good show,
but they can't keep from backbiting
in private.

that's alright; I bless them all
from this place of unimaginably sweet light
and ethereal vision
where we breathe wisdom
and spend our days handing out
fountains of love to each other.

I forgive them;
I was a bastard, after all.

and what they're doing is nothing
I didn't do,
with every death,
behind every closed door.

the soft-blue of unlearning

a mobile, overhead, dangles;
a solar system of
soft blue plastic
commanding a trail of angels,
warding off danger,
blessing the head of a small child
with starshine and mercy --

a brother's sling, shot hard and wild,
the rock diverted by the rotating toy...

helpless as a baby,
or so the saying goes,
helpless? -- perhaps and maybe,
but this child seems to know
visions of things sublime,
and a magic in every wonder,

though "well-meaning" people and time
will tear this heaven asunder.

attunement

song of light
the blazing sun within my heart,
I see all by the light of my eyes,
anything I do not understand,
I must just not understand
and not despise.

the soft light of mother heart,
the searing discernment of father's
the perfect attunement of brother's, sister's, friend's,
we are on different roads, you and I,
both to the same end.

take a flame within your palm,
close upon it, feel it's warmth,
open now and breathe it in
watch your soul renew and spin
a flower in a flower within
a world within a drop
of water suspended finally mended
a life that sits in the still center
of a careening top.