Notes Found On The Refrigerator May 2014

Children are the flicker of a wildfire

that consumes all misunderstandings  of life;

replacing it with lush newly defined dreams.

     ****

This was a good day. I did the laundry and I didn’t shrink the sweaters,

and I matched all my socks. 

       ***

Free fall from grasping, if you have too,

float through the cloud of unknowing,

catch the wings of an Angel;

a Conscience unfettered.

Expect to land on your feet

where you are welcomed.

     ***

Who else could lead us to freedom other than a slave?

    ****

 There are soooo many things

that people tell me “what to do”,

and what “not to do”,

that sometimes I forget Myself. 

   ***

Idyll heart stalked,

loneliness is not in fate,

Dance on blade of grass.

   ***

Eve:

Birds of a feather stick together,

except in the “Hunter’s” snare…

Adam:

whenever possible.

Narrator:

Still ignorant, eh! 

   ***

 

Notes Found On The Refrigerator April 2014

 Thin toilet tissue:

The reformed Sinner, self-proclaimed by an edict,
in confession only the devil could read out loud.
sometimes they try too hard to clean things up…
they end up putting their fingers through the paper,
cleaning the wrong ass. 🙂

**********

None of us are heroes when you come back home.
Whether from conflict overseas, educational institution and training or just getting off the street.
We do what we are supposed to do.
We become that place that sent us out…though some of us might have felt we were being kicked out 😦 

but, we come back with a better understanding,
for a better home, that changes the world by sending out more “non-heroes”.

****************
All activity deserves respect. Creativity deserves distinction.

***********

With so many complaints and maladies
and nothing you can do about them
you might as well redeem your soul
for a fix in advance.
Of course not,
get off your ass and on your feet 🙂

******
I have been an up-and-coming disappointment for some,
and then there were others.
Perhaps they were just working on their smile. 

******
No one is expected.
I’m not leaving.
Gosh,
the day is mine.
Now I too, must decide
what to do.
walk or ride?

******

 

Taking complicated words to create an understanding that is sophisticated and simple
is not as fun, or as limiting, as taking simple words to a level of sophistication through universal understanding. However, regardless of the words, it is the intent to be understood through the eyes of imagination.
***************
There is always enough peanut butter for another sandwich in that empty jar. Don’t throw it away just yet. 🙂

*********
In all my experimentation with alcohol I have found no useful benefit. Even the euphoria is condescending to the human character. It poisons experience into catastrophic moments that become stillborn forever

 

On the trail to ZoralinQ:

The Merchant and the Gypsy

Oh my God, open my heart so I can see

So that my mind can soul the truth, I know.

 

Let me resonate the Love that chimes the light

into life and silences darkness by showing me the moon.

 

I have no lamb to sacrifice nor special gift to wrap.

Let dusk welcome me with the fruits of my day

Let me sleep at Your feet knowing You

and who I am; inseparable through Love.

 

Awaken me from the shelter of my self

with the vibration that transcends’ my own sound

abundantly impoverished in these words.

 

A merchant and a Gypsy came dancing through euphoria.

Skipping, banging cymbals thumped and jingled

to the beating of a racing heart.

 

They skittered here and there,

forwards and backwards,

sliding sideways and all about.

 

The gypsy with ringing bells

from dangling strings of magic beads

had clipped on her hip, in a loop on her belt,

my image

on a well-stretched tambourine.

 

The merchant moved with confidence,

assurance in his gait;

with a smile so well advertised,

it overlapped distinction

and recognition

of a very familiar face.

 

silencing the bells, with permission of the Gypsy

he displayed a wooden pony, which “he had to sell.”

 

“Rode through heaven and hell; to promises of fulfillment!”

for this moments “Special”.

Winking with sincerity and honesty,

stroking the slightly scorched metallic paint.

   

with the sweep of his hand and a nod to the Gypsy

came a thumping sound and the resuming of the bells.

 

Clouding dandelion puffs, pumpkins, and snowballs,

not to mention the “no vacancy sign” in my head,

popped the Gypsy in my face

but at a distant with quite a lot of space.

 

One arm outstretched rattling her un-clipped tambourine,

painted face playfully disguising her many races

of father, mother, birch, oak, eagle, dove, worm,

excetra, excetra.

flashing images of gala fantasies,

in unimagined mysteries of blended colors

rode the quivering wake of her tambourine.

 

Mind painted galleries stretched from history

 and pulled from the future to the present.

Music, pottery, healing herbs,

seeds, grain, sand, and necessities;

all found in the scratches

beneath the merchants’, shiny thing.

 

Starting from her toes to her nose she shook and rattled

erasing the image on her tambourine.

 

Things started falling out of her pockets

Treasures found on her path; those discarded and forgotten.

fallen through the holes in my pockets.

 

She was willing to exchange, with me,

these common things;

for things hoarded from the merchant,

not knowing, that I still keep.

 

He, the merchant, still quite involved,

knowing the value of my inventory,

smiling, completely disagreed to oversee.

 

Poof!

There they were!

Gone!

Their campfire was as bright as the moon that framed them.

I watch the sparks of their fire being poked,

blinking with bright sparkle into a glowing sky;

lifting light from gold to silver to ember and back into dark.

In an eyelid blink

bowing in such graceful arks,

the merchant and the gypsy, exited with my mind.

As the curtain of decision and indecision lowered

I saw the wick of infinity

in the hands of my soul’s standing applause.

The Night Before Breakfast: An Outlaw Journal    Chapter III Pine Cone Diaries   

 

Notes Found On The Refrigerator February 2014

Self-pity is a stone

thrown on a still pond

 that ripples only misery

with everything it touches;

eventually to dissolve, I suppose,

on the banks among the reeds

before the pond returns

 to its peaceful

state.

 

********

Guilt:

The snake has legs

carries a dagger in its  boot

curled up to the warmth of its prey

plays heads or tails with a two-faced coin.

You know it has slipped in

when you hear the closing  door

awakening with a  dagger in your chest.

It’s best to forgive, be forgiven, and forgit.

Good-night, now shoo! Git.

 

***********

 

Who dares give shit to the dishwasher for dropping a dish?

 

**********

Love?

I’m not talking about beating the piss out of something

to straighten out dents!

 

I’m still a romantic;

a flower, a kiss,

a small candy heart

that says in fading blue letters

“I love you.”

A card or two

even if it’s from your mother

just another remarkable reminder,

in addressing the word “you.”

 

********

 

regardless, of your creativity fella,

it still needs to be somewhat refined

as raw gold, or silver, or coal, and

in this particular instance

even mud. 

 oh, up your nose with a rubber hose!

Oh, oh, “F” plus 

 

*********

 

Traveling the birds path that leaves no trail

the sickle of time, the cycle of life,

became ripples from a circle in my eyes.

The splash has wet my face.

I morn less for time and change,

awakened to see

what the center had to divide.

Learning to put things where they belong;

most of them, I found,

empty under my wings.

 

Mr. Peaks: a parable

Youth, courting love,

spared no introduction.

Labored in maintenance

for objects gathered,

clearing a space for assumption, fell into old age.

Awarded with memories

that come and fade

of objects and maintenance

unable to seduce the maid.

 

Notes Found On The Refrigerator Jan. 2014

The Buddha is the perfection of free will. Jesus, the Christ, discourages failure; allowing the dignity of risk to be forgiven and forgotten. The gods and Saints, Prophets, and Great Chiefs exemplify this understanding struggle that arrives to the Center of Inner Peace (God) before our minds created the earth. The path has already been chosen. It has been blazed and traveled on long before light. I need to stop chasing my tail.

********

Falling down the stairs (sorta like stumbling on the Truth) has it’s initial physical reaction but none so surprising, after landing on the first stair, as there was, in realizing (with some fear) that, there are more stairs, I was falling. OUCH! 911 me!

    **************

Every feather I found on the ground was accepted as a gift to wear 🙂

     **********************

Do I really understand what it is, I receive?

   ****

I accept our similarities and I am familiar with them.

I am seeking, however, my uniqueness among you;

which we equally possess within ourselves.

   *******

I need to bring strife to a mutual conclusion.

I need to resolve it and move on.

If I can’t, I’m in real deep shit!

If, that is the case,

then let me hold my breath

and dissolve. 🙂

   ****

I have accomplished more things in my mind,

that I have failed to do.

Proud of my success I suppose,

but under an empty roof.

   *******

shaved and wearing a smile, hopping and limping along

Fred the peg all dressed in red was going to the neighborhood bar.

He had met a lady there last night, real cute and precisely square.

Go figure?

After much conversation which seemed to go everywhere

They both agreed to meet again, at exactly the same spot, there.

Fred spent the day whittling his leg hoping to better fit in,

 with the square.

Now kinda looking slim, with an awkward limp,

she made it clear when he got there,

unfortunately for him, they would never fit

Her edges were there to stay.

The peg was initially liked by the square

but, he gave too much by whittling his leg

and she unable to understand

 the free space existing there,

that could eventually be filled

 by the things they share.

     ************

Sometimes you have to scribble things into irrelevant obscurity, eh! 🙂