The child asks not, "Who am I?"
For the child knows the answer.
It is we grownups who ask, "Who am I?"
The child asks not, "Why am I here?"
The child knows the answer.
It is we grownups who ask, "Why am I here?"
The child asks not, "Where am I going?"
The child knows the answer.
It is we grownups who ask, "Where am I going?"
A childs laughter is its answer to us grownups.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
L.
You saw your mother murdered when you were young,
and went to live with an aunt who despised you,
so you left that loveless home; fell in love, had a family,
until your husband started beating you every night;
you had to leave.
You lost your children to the bureaucracy, now you were all alone.
And that is how I found you, alone on a crowded street hawking newspapers.
You miss your children terribly, but they will have nothing to do with you,
You yearn to be with someone you could love and who could love you.
Nights find you in a park or hallway exhausted.
Unable to sleep you cry, alone, with no one to wipe your tears or comfort you.
The dawn reminds you of how deeply alone you are.
In your own words, "It's just I know I do not fit in, and knew it when I was a little girl. I just feel it now more because I'm bigger and nothing has changed as far as me not fitting in. I guess I have to keep trying."
She tells me she's sorry when she's not in a good mood, I tell her she's beautiful and love her very much.
So we sit on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant, and I hold her close to me while we talk for hours.
and went to live with an aunt who despised you,
so you left that loveless home; fell in love, had a family,
until your husband started beating you every night;
you had to leave.
You lost your children to the bureaucracy, now you were all alone.
And that is how I found you, alone on a crowded street hawking newspapers.
You miss your children terribly, but they will have nothing to do with you,
You yearn to be with someone you could love and who could love you.
Nights find you in a park or hallway exhausted.
Unable to sleep you cry, alone, with no one to wipe your tears or comfort you.
The dawn reminds you of how deeply alone you are.
In your own words, "It's just I know I do not fit in, and knew it when I was a little girl. I just feel it now more because I'm bigger and nothing has changed as far as me not fitting in. I guess I have to keep trying."
She tells me she's sorry when she's not in a good mood, I tell her she's beautiful and love her very much.
So we sit on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant, and I hold her close to me while we talk for hours.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Streams
When we dream why do we see?
It certainly isn't with our physical eyes; they're closed, but we see people, places,things as plainly as with our physical eyes.
The same can be said of the rest of our senses in dreams, but I'm using sight as an example here.
So who's eyes see when you're dreaming?
Thoughts remind me of the bubbles in a bottle of carbonated water. Some rest on the bottom, the sides and others suspended in the middle.
All these thoughts waiting to reach the bottleneck of awareness at the top. Sadly only a few reach the top, while the others remain below the bottleneck of awareness.
What is the stuff of thoughts? That's another thought.
Bring on the night the darkness has more to say about you than the day ever will. You know that to be true don't you?
It certainly isn't with our physical eyes; they're closed, but we see people, places,things as plainly as with our physical eyes.
The same can be said of the rest of our senses in dreams, but I'm using sight as an example here.
So who's eyes see when you're dreaming?
Thoughts remind me of the bubbles in a bottle of carbonated water. Some rest on the bottom, the sides and others suspended in the middle.
All these thoughts waiting to reach the bottleneck of awareness at the top. Sadly only a few reach the top, while the others remain below the bottleneck of awareness.
What is the stuff of thoughts? That's another thought.
Bring on the night the darkness has more to say about you than the day ever will. You know that to be true don't you?
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
One Night
Through abstract time,
in shadow's womb,
an apparition in deep reverie.
Your head bowed down in a veil of hair,
my voice whispers,
"Why are you here?"
In silence you sit,
not a movement of breath,
nor a quiver of limbs.
As I close my eyes to sleep,
I leave you on my bed,
In the stillness of your being.
in shadow's womb,
an apparition in deep reverie.
Your head bowed down in a veil of hair,
my voice whispers,
"Why are you here?"
In silence you sit,
not a movement of breath,
nor a quiver of limbs.
As I close my eyes to sleep,
I leave you on my bed,
In the stillness of your being.
Friday, May 29, 2009
At Any Hand
Triradiated matrices residual detritus of Buddha-Mind.
Invalidator.
Claustrophobic riddles leave me three-quarters-bound.
Archangels hold the keys.
Demystify the mystical,
so the monkey will cease howling.
Fate is rigged.
A Gotterdammerung in Spades.
Love bastardized.
In the speaking thereof.
I'll say no more.
Invalidator.
Claustrophobic riddles leave me three-quarters-bound.
Archangels hold the keys.
Demystify the mystical,
so the monkey will cease howling.
Fate is rigged.
A Gotterdammerung in Spades.
Love bastardized.
In the speaking thereof.
I'll say no more.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
B S
There's too much bullshit out there and I'm tired of stepping in it.
As is plainly evident you're not.
As is plainly evident you're not.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
2012
Predictions for 2012
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
True Psychics will tell you that you're guess is as good as theirs when it comes to 2012 for one simple reason; there's a veil or mist not allowing psychics to see past 2012.
Now I find that more interesting than any predictions.
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
True Psychics will tell you that you're guess is as good as theirs when it comes to 2012 for one simple reason; there's a veil or mist not allowing psychics to see past 2012.
Now I find that more interesting than any predictions.
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