Poem - A Dream Come & Gone

thinking does not fix broken thinking
an ache does not heal a broken heart

what is is what is
i take a wisp of your leftover hair

i let it go
and the wind takes it

you float gently away
a dream come & gone

---

for rachel
5.23.12

J Pants Sourpuss

"Says now: 'Snoring can increase cancer risk five-fold!'" I put the paper down.

"If thinking was a disease that killed immediately, you'd be dead." says J Pants.

*

"Lookie here: 'Americans can't wait for a perfect Afghanistan.'" I remark, during a break from the WWW.

"If you were Afghanistan, you'd be in jail." says J Pants.

*

"Just out: 'The Facebook IPO has lost all its friends.'" I mention, after reading a magazine.

"Too bad for them. You never seemed to have any." says J Pants.

*

Later, after J Pants is gone, Chung Tzu drops by.

"J Pants sure has a lot to say about things!' I tell him, as I hand him a cup of tea.

"You bet." says Chung Tzu, blowing on the cup. "He's a real sourpuss!"

Chung Tzu and I Eat Cookies and Drink Milk

I'm saving money, so I buy cheap chocolate chip cookies. Chung Tzu walks in when I open the package.

"These cookies taste like chalk!" I exclaim.

Chung Tzu looks at me.

"Mmmmmm! Delicious chalk cookies!" I exclaim."Wonderful!"

Chung Tzu motions me to give him one. He bites the cookie.

"And don't forget a glass of milk!" I say, 'Wow!'

We drink milk together in the kitchen, with the cookies.

-----

Irvine
5.11.12

Poem - what was the point

what was the point
of eye
of ear
or face

if it did not teach us
to
find
our place

to be in the moment
and satisfied

to laugh at unreal
mind

discover powerlessness
and like it

connected by letting
all go

Superior Shredding

I have two wireless phones in my apartment, both of them are sleeping in the back room. I need one of them, but as I stand, Superior Shredding rolls up in a truck. They knock on my door, I open it, and two guys proceed to shred everything I possess. It takes them no time at all. Superior Shredding wants to make a point on how effective they are in the business of shredding. When they leave, I look for a wireless phone. It has been shredded.

Poem - Everything I Do

everything i do
is like launching little boats
onto the waters of a great ocean
that no one will ever truly know of

the size of it is too big to comprehend
depth unmeasurable
the waves immense
rendering everything recognizable anonymous

but for a short time
look how my little flimsy things
wink on the waves
so delicate before they are snuffed out

J. Pants Helps Me Get Over Things/ Chuck Norris is Chuck Norris/ Haircut

"It hurts dreadfully sometimes." I confess to J. Pants.

"It hurts dreadfully sometimes." mimics J. pants "Boo-hoo."

"What would Chuck Norris do?"

"What? Kick a hole in the wall, I guess."

"Sounds like Chuck Norris."

"Chuck Norris is Chuck Norris. You, my friend, are an idiot."

"So what should I do to get over this?"

"Stop being a fucking pussy."

"Ha ha."

"I mean it. Goddamn miracle boy."


***

I go out and get a haircut. When I get back, J. Pants is still in the apartment.

"Nice haircut." says J. Pants.

"Thanks."

"You know what your fucking problem is? I know now."

"What?"

"You have too much spare time on your hands."

"Is that it?"

"Yes and no."

"I'll work on it."

"GHA HA HA HA HA!" laughs J. Pants.

Me and J. Pants - or - Y.F.R.Y.D.

J. Pants comes in and sits down. He cocks his hat back and plops his boots on the top of the table.

"I've been reading your fucking blog. Jesus H-Christ! You've been writing a lot of depressing shit!" he says.

"I'll try better." I reply.

J. Pants looks at the ceiling, pulls at his red suspenders, and purses his lips.

"I don't fucking believe you." he says.

"Why not?" I ask him, innocently.

"You sorry bastard! You like what you've been doing!"

"The lousy writing?"

"Yeah...lousy writing, lousy goddamn lifestyle -- too! It is like a drunk who gets off on being a fucking drunk AND THEN THEY WRITE DRUNK MONOLOGUES ABOUT BEING A FUCKING DRUNK!"

"I did that once." I admit.

"YOU'RE FUCKING RIGHT YOU DID!" says J. Pants.

Poem - No Bottom or Top

i look for a lost beer billboard
like another looks for a lost flower
on a city skyline
the color of cement

tonight like last night
the big dipper will rise over my balcony
bigger than the entire city
with no bottom or top

Poem - At First

there is no negotiation with what is
therefore anything other than acceptance is a joke

the good news about this
is you can learn from what is

and be scrubbed clean of
stultifying yearning

at first you may be cold
but later you know you will feel warm

Too Good to Pass Up

I'm going about my business, and I read online that some condemned and notorious criminals from the 17th, and 18th centuries would get executed and have people make books out of their skin. In many cases, small books, for whatever reason. Some of these editions are on display in museums around the world. I guess they would be, somewhere. That kind of story and object of interest is too good to pass up, if you are running a museum.

Poem - A Double Whammy

financial jaws get tighter
after the breakup

when we are down to nothing
god is up to something they say

but oh me oh my a broken heart
and a broken pocketbook!

Poem - Free Time

email is stupid
so i write poems to you

i sleep all night
i get everything done

i have more time to waste
looking up useless things

i work work work work
i go to meetings

i smile like a mute
i look like an unopened book

you'll probably never read this
but if you do

a long long time
will have passed

Poem - USS Arizona

one sunny morning in hawaii w/ not much going on
a bomb fell down the smokestack of the uss arizona
and it was sunk/ nobody thought that would happen
on that day

one sunny morning in laguna beach w/ not much going on
you walked past me when i was at a cafe & you smiled
that particular way/ later when my life was blown up
i thought about the uss arizona

Poem - Silence

number no longer in service
you hang up and look at the keyboard

the silence becomes deafening
the betta fish keeps sleeping in the kitchen

feeling resigned and angry at the same time
you change the water in the fishbowl

you think it would be easier
to have two fishbowls

alone in the apartment you have done this
all without saying one word out loud

------

3.28.12

Very Nice Said the Moon

On the first day of spring, at dawn, I go outside and the first thing I see is the crescent moon just risen over the edge of the horizon. Overheard, the sky was still almost black, with a gradual lightening down by the tips of the mountains. The moon was so nestled perfect from the rising it had done, I could see it could talk.

"Hello." said the moon.

"Hello." I said back.

"Did I startle you?" asked the moon.

"Oh, bless me, no." I said.

"Are you sure?" asked the moon, going higher.

"I was surprised, but gratified." I said.

"Very nice." said the moon.

----

Spring 2012
West of Irvine

Poem - Barely Fitting

big moon skirts the big dipper
thoughts like contrails
as a sedan comes home below
the garage opens and we see
a tuscan landscape painting
barely fitting on the wall of the
single-car garage

When I Was Traveling Secretly Between Turin and Paris

Last week, when I was traveling secretly between Turin and Paris, I reminisced on how the Government reads everything we write online with little software robots -- in the name of National Security. I had 4,000 baseballs in a handbag next to me, with a miniature ladder made out of pure pressed moon-sushi. Six pairs of identical twins were on the plane, and they all ordered the same vegetarian meal. The in-flight movie was a delightful story about a white dog, a green rhinoceros, and a red penguin with mystical powers, saving post WWII Tokyo from total annihilation.

Meeting Giorgio Armani in New York

In New York, on the spur of the moment you borrow a friend's Armani coat to go to the market two blocks down. You do not particularly care for the Armani coat. The clasps & buttons are too big and the belt-buckle is ostentatious.

Halfway to the store, by pure insane chance, you meet Giorgio Armani. A private car pulls quickly to the curb -- the recognition is unavoidable, he is too close. He notices you, wearing one of his designs & holds his arm out, preventing someone from exiting the vehicle after him.

Giorgio Armani is so close you catch a whiff of cologne, and observe the fine wrinkles in the corners of his eyes.

"Do you like my coat?" he asks you.

"Yes, I do," you lie.

Armani narrows his eyes but smiles, because he knows you are lying.

How Efficient. How Nice.

Hard-charging Martin W. passes out AT THE END of a long night of drinking, after staggering back to his Manhattan apartment. He comes to & sees the cleaners have been there as he was unconscious, organizing and straightening everything up like nothing had happened like magic elves. The cleaners even vacuumed and straightened out him, while he was passed out, and he has a fresh lemony smell. A discreet bill is pinned on his lapel, with a smiley face. How efficient. How nice.

Poem - Where We Are

it is like this thing
the moon

a cotton-ball
or a rabbit's tail

or looking inside
you or me

arms relaxed
faces upturned

not knowing
what year it is

or where we are

From My Notepad

What did you do when you attended the grand opening of the Museum of Sex?

Is there a Museum of museums?

Statement:
Sex is like shaking hands with someone with your whole body, but instead of using your hands you use a _____ and a _____.

Poem - think of me

i give you cookoo for coco-puffs

i give you stalingrad

i give you egypt

i give you lamborghini on the cote d'azur, on a starry night with a beautiful blonde who wants you& money, power, fame -- a nice italian suit of imported silk from china. exclusive reservation to a villa overlooking a black ocean

coffee

dump trucks

money

death

weeping

roller-coasters

there's nothing i can't do, and nothing that i do not know about, thoroughly acquainted with the machinery of the human soul. i ran the french revolution. i helped washington cross the delaware. london was bombed. the underdog won the kentucky derby

i made all of this out of the dust of a exploded star. because you wanted me to. because you begged me to. because you said, go ahead, it will be alright. because you said you'd love me, no matter what. and i trusted you. and i love you and you love me

think of me

think of me often and i am not far away

Poem - The Far Away Light

the fields were far away
and beyond this i saw a bright light

from an isolated house
from a grain silo
from a navigation tower
or a bar
or a secret rendezvous

from whatever it was

and you may wonder
what the place feels like there
who lingers
or how the night moves

the kind of light you pass
in the night of the imperial valley
hurrying to get to san francisco
or back to LA

and when you are miles away
you wonder what the light was
and what secrets
you will never know

Poem - My One Poem including the Judges of the Supreme Court of the United States of America

they all look competent
in black robes
and they sit still
by a red soft drape

Poem - Meditation

Meditation
the ordinary mind produces ordinary outcomes

the extraordinary perception of things
sees that even the ordinary mind
is inseparable from enlightenment

therefore ordinary and extraordinary outcomes
are like children guided by the loving parent mind

-----

A needle on a record groove does not have to have faith over whether or not it is playing, it stays in the groove, the record moves, and it resonates. The needle is designed to perfectly do what it does, all it has to be is be placed there -- everything is designed to work this way, for all things.

Irvine

Poem - all through a sober waking life

i need an electric fan so that night
i dream of a small black fan
in a dream that i know is not real

perfect! i exclaim in the dream
as if this statement makes things true
and i wake up empty handed

how often i have done just this
all through a sober waking life

Poem - I Who Have Felt

the mystery of separation
is no separation
and no-not separation
under a watercolor sky

together as always
but going to different places
probably being reunited
in the future

who knows?
who does not know?
i who have felt your eyes
your lips and body

-----

Saturday Morning
Jan 14, 2012

Poem - See

everything possible
how lovely

through the danger
and concern

over fear
and anxiety

holding on
then letting go

see!

Poem - Nowhere Else

i have no idea what happens next --
i'm peaceful about this

things could be one way,
or the opposite way

it doesn't really matter,
because here i am, nowhere else


------

Escondido
12.15.2011

Chung Tzu and Vacations

Chung Tzu comes in with this beautiful Nordic-looking woman with sea-grey eyes and a regal bearing. At the same time, she seems to be so eminently friendly, I find myself staring -- then I realize it is Darraðarljóð. I look away and then I look back, and she looks at me steadily.

"I admit I am absolutely terrified to meet you!"

She smiles.

"No! No! Relax!" laughs Chung Tzu, "You see, now you know: Everybody goes out of town for a vacation!"

Poem - Every Time It Happens

A flurry of rain falls,
from the dark cloud wing
of an enormous bird.
I have thought this
construction of words before.
But every time it happens,
it grabs me.

----

Escondido
12.12.11

My Favorite Proust Quote

"Quand je veux pour le train pour aller plus vite, hélas - il va plus lentement. Si ce n'est pas à la plateforme, puis il est tard. Toutes les machines distributrices ici sont horribles, la vente des marchandises pour des cannibales..."

-- Proust
"Remembrance of Things Past"

It is Very Difficult to Strip off the Man

"It is very difficult entirely to strip off the man."

...said by the Skeptic Philosopher Pyrrho, who normally received all events with acceptance & serenity, after defending himself from a vicious stray dog.

I feel what Pyrrho writes. I can't seem to have release from the most basic of selfish motivations, in all that I do. Usually I catch myself before I cause harm, and this is good. Often, I am able to guide my thinking to a new outlook.

Perhaps I will never be free of these provocations of the self. I suppose it does not matter if I have these flaws -- declared, denied, or declaimed, provided I am motivated by some power greater than myself to do the best thing for every situation.

Chung Tzu Can Tell

"Inside it looks like Paris, France, the weather outside like Palm Springs, and the yard looks like the lawn just got cut. Who cut the lawn?" I ask Chung Tzu.

"Well, I know by the way you're asking me, you certainly didn't!" remarks Chung Tzu, and he laughs.

-------

Escondido
12.05.11

Poem - I Do Not Know

alas! i don't know
i don't know

but like in 'waiting for godot'
i show up

there's something about
the decision to continue

without any concern
for being saved

Poem - Spider Weaves a Web

Spider weaves a web,
thoughtless is as trust --
an element in the space,
dodging particles of dust.

Alongside a windowpane,
it encounters the cool --
springing on the field of glass
are haystacks made of dew.

Now the spider is the thresher,
linked one to one by light --
as the man, the spider moves,
toiling till out of sight.

-------

Petaluma
at the Washoe House

Cicero and Bicycles / Cicero und Fahrräder

Cicero said, "To philosophize is to learn how to die." And I said, "And you can learn how to ride a bicycle, too!" And Cicero turned around and gave me a good long stare. Ahem.

**

Cicero sagte: "Philosophieren ist zu lernen, wie man stirbt." Und ich sagte: "Und Sie können lernen, wie man Fahrrad fährt, too!" Und Cicero drehte sich um und gab mir eine gute lange anzustarren. Ähem.

Poem - Pub Liar

pub
liar

he has
dead
fingers

he has
hay
for eyes

all he
is: smile

jukebox
smokebreak

hugging
two dogs
on a
leash

he wrestles
a face red
like in a
field

he'd fuck
a chair


------

Lower Haight
SF

As I Traveled Under Your Gaze

Here's what I've learned over the Thanksgiving Holiday between San Francisco and San Diego: Every pretty girl on that 500 mile trek gets hit up by about 9,000 times, every day. The boys try it one way, the young-men in other ways -- the old men with refined technique that could be described as consciously moneyed and boorish. It happens in cafes, department stores, boutiques, libraries, churches, bars, everywhere, and at all hours. A pretty woman learns much about the opposite sex in how they attempt, and then inevitably flame out. Well, most of them attempt and aren't up to the task. Being sober counts! Clean clothes and a nice smile, the ability listen and join into conversation helps!

Square your belt,
and keep on your boots.

If you have on a hat,
hold it when you say hello.

I listened to them and I doubted it all. I listened more and drew diagrams of constellations like Orion the Hunter at a ballpark having a beer, or doing his taxes at the computer, and they laughed. But at San Luis Obsipo, with the crescent moon and a lone star about to land in the sea, I started understanding what had been told to me! The night rose up like a ghost mansion, and at every gabled window a statuesque blue-eyed blonde watched out over the lonely abandoned mountains, and to the forested North, and they searched out over the South to my destination. Thank you, gorgeous women, as I traveled under your gaze.

Poem - Where it Snows

it snows somewhere
i wish i was at that place

to see the type of sky that snows
and feel the bite of tiny flakes

i'd be alone in a field
sloping down to a sleeping lake

and on the other side a hill
with a wall of silent trees

Pome - i reenter/ the present moment

hovering unreality
as real as the pluck
that started a
dumb string
vibrating

my opinion of you
unreal & transitory

my view of me
as laughable as
considering a plan
to lay a foundation
in thin air

i reenter
the present moment

with no tools
with no aim
with no grasp
no you
no me

i write this
and a sigh escapes

Poem - Every Secret

you can't know about others
you don't own them
they don't own you

everything is about you
even what you don't want to know
everything you didn't say

and everybody knows
what you think they don't know
about you, every secret

*

vous ne pouvez pas connaître les autres
vous ne les propres
ils ne vous possédez

tout est sur ​​vous
même ce que vous ne voulez pas savoir
tout ce que vous n'avez pas dit

et chacun sait
ce que vous pensez qu'ils ne savent pas
sur vous, tous les secrets

-----

Escondido
11.14.11

Poem - A Drive with a Breaking Heart

his heart breaks and he laughs
because there is no holding onto anything
not even the delight of the fact
a heart is meant to be broken

the moon is more and so is the ridge
that the moon ran past as he drove on interstate 5
part of a sea of bobbing headlights
counter to the glowing tail lights

faced by the dark house he entered it
faced by white comforter and sheets he lay in them
resented by sleep he dreamed
and then it was a new dawn

he had coffee
he saw friends
he listens
he was not alone

Poem - the leaves in new york city

the leaves in new york city
curl up
just getting into true red and gold
under
the sky of central park
buoying
the monumental needle

-------

In the Garden
Behind the Metropolitan Museum of Art
11.07.11

Poem - Ceaseless

i dream you are unhappy
because something is bothering you
so i wake up at 2 AM
and in the black dark i make a mental note
to call you in the morning
and ask if everything is okay
but when i awake in the morning
the light reminds me you're angry at me
and you'll never let go of the unhappiness
that i dream ceaselessly about

i make coffee i smoke a cigarette
i cough and figure it is time to quit

Poem - Fire

fire is an event
not a thing

a tree cut down
sunlight going out
in twisted flames
sparks gushing up
some see agony
others enjoy

only on earth
where there is
enough oxygen

everything can burn
here london
chicago warsaw
russia berlin
infirm people
villages cars
neighborhoods
rivers

a heap of old
newspapers could
burst into flame

or magazines

or compost heaps

or all your culture
stripped to black ash
in every nook
and cranny

fire is an event
not a thing

Lions, Tigers and Bears

He blew his brains out in Ohio, but before he pulled the trigger, he let all his exotic animals out, hoping one or two of them would harm him in the most grievous and gruesome manner. Lions, Tigers and Bears, Oh My! He presented himself ceremoniously as a target, to each, unlatching the doors. But the cougars, and other caged beasts fled from him like everyone else in his miserable life. The best he got was a hiss and a swat, and that only left a few superficial gashes through his jeans. Then he had cold comfort imagining his neighbors would be locked in their houses for miles and miles around, at the same time down here he'd be laying with his brains and bits of bone stuck all over the walls. Just like his father. Ha ha ha. Ha ha. He listened for screams, and heard none. He bent his head down, and started walking back to the trailer. He hated the sun, he hated the sunlight, he hated the morning. Then he remembered he had meant to kill himself, and looked one more time behind, at the pens. He put the gun to his head.

Off Into Space

Off into space we go, with bags of farts. The navigator is obviously insane, he collects his farts. We find this out after reaching orbit, when calculating the next leg of the historic journey. Commander Maarten squeezes a plump one, seeming empty, in the aft cabin. After the fight, and the various reactions of the crew, I now see this will be a long, arduous journey.

Organizing a Day of Protest

"I'm organizing a day of protest." I say.

"Oh, you are? Against whom?" says God.

"You, of course!

"Oh! I see. That's nice!"

"Really? You're not offended?"

"No, no! I think this is wonderful."

"Organizing a protest against you, and you have no problem with this."

"Yes, fabulous."

"Why?"

"Why do you think?"

"I'm guessing, you like the concept of people getting out of their routines, meeting others, with something bigger than themselves in mind?"

"Something like that. I always find it is hopeful when people get out of their routines for a cause, and meet with others."

"So you think Hope is important?"

"I'm always Hopeful with you."

Poem - Birthday Poem to David

DAVID'S BIRTHDAY POEM

i'd meet him
and he might be in a state

grin and grim
only like an irishman can

this was easily fixed
when i demanded to know
if he wanted a drink

but it wasn't the drink he wanted

it was for someone who knew him
well enough to ask

~ ~ ~

he moves through sorrow
moves with the joy
things here & gone

and we talk about all

though we know it
can't last

----

For David Penney
10.13.11

Poem - see how i have more things to unlearn

you act like i was saying something?
i must have been seeming to say something
now
see how i have more things to unlearn

wanting to be truly useful to others
i need to get out of the way of myself
now
see how i have more things to unlearn

-----

10.13.11

Poem - i was gone/ but now i'm back

i call my dad on his birthday
he answers the phone

before he would not
i blamed him for everything

the card was sent on time
for this day onhand

a fine day in october
to be born

i was gone
but now i'm back

-----

October 11, 2011

God Buys Me a BLT in Escondido

I go to a cafe in Escondido. I see God is there, standing in line.

"Let me buy you a sandwich." says God.

"OK." I reply.

We stand there, and God is humming to himself quietly.

"Can I pick the sandwich? I'd like --"

"No." says God.

He orders me a BLT and I don't want a BLT. We sit down at a booth in the window, it is a lovely morning. I drink a cup of coffee I carried in, and I resent God ordering a BLT for me, even though it looks delicious.

God starts eating.

"So how do you relate to Buddhism?" I ask God.

"Eat your BLT." says God.

I start eating my BLT, and I don't like how the bacon and mayonnaise are getting together with the bread.

"So where are you in the synthesis of Christianity?" I ask God.

"Keep eating." says God.

"But what about free will and human nature?"

"Oh..." says God, seeming to have a thought on his mind.

He pauses. I wait, holding half a BLT. A pretty girl comes into the cafe, and God watches her, smiling. She walks past us and I can't see her. Finally, I turn and look at what he's looking at. I expect to see the pretty girl, but she's vanished!

"Nevermind!" says God.

Poem - I Think of You

for Latif

when i see a pretty girl
and i get to talk to her
and she remembers my name
i think of you

i see the full moon
when i go to sleep and then
it is there at 5 am when i'm up
i think of you

if i'm stuck in traffic
and getting impatient
but then i accept the now
i think of you

i see it is beyond my hand
it is beyond word thought or day
it was here before before
it is in the thought of you
and it will remain

-------

Center City Parkway @ W Washington St
Escondido

Poem - And Right Then

she kissed him and he laughed
her hair covering over his face

the most natural thing
love and joy of being together
having found the precious enduring gift
with someone very made for you

and right then i wished a 14 ton block
would fall out of the sky
and smash them flat

then later when i was home
i truly regretted thinking this
and i did my laundry
& i could see why i was alone

Poem - YES

program asks
click YES to accept

so i click
YES

then it goes
are you sure, click
YES

& i click YES
one more time
to be sure

and i find i wish
people were
that way

Poem - On the Way

on the way he asks me what is the point
i say the point is there is no point
only kindness towards self and others
we drive for some time
and go under a vast wing of grey overcast
on the way to his appointment with superior court

------

Vista
9.30.2011

News - Marguerite Avenue

CM Evans Cartoons and writing has been posted to a new eclectic website/ magazine called Marguerite Avenue. Writers and other artists are invited to submit.

Poem - BAH!

a mahasiddha on the road to abolition
travels it the same silly buoyant way as i would travel
to a girlfriend

BAH!

a mahasiddha sees right through
any hope i'd have at the start of the day as a harmless
slight slip

BAH!

Poem - this dawn laying red / diesem morgen über das blut

this dawn laying red
like a bar of molten steel
under cloud machines


hammers the sun
day into a broad blade
and polishes it on
sky blue water

**

diesem morgen über das blut
wie eine bar aus geschmolzenem stahl
unter cloud-maschinen


hammer der sonne
tag in eine breite klinge
und poliert es auf
weiß blau wasser

----

Lake Henshaw
9.24.11

Chung Tzu - Good Luck With the Writing & Oh Dear!

I threw away the good story. I threw away the good poem. I got a whole bunch of leaves and garbage, and I put them on the table. The wind blew on them, gently. I'm watching this, when Chung Tzu comes into the backyard, holding a large worn paper-bag.

"What are you doing?" asks Chung Tzu.

"I'm writing the next Great American Novel." I reply.

"Oh? What is it called?" inquires Chung Tzu.

"Garbage and Leaves On a Table." I say.

"Well, good luck with the writing." says Chung Tzu. He fishes around in the big paper bag.

"What's in the bag?" I ask Chung Tzu.

"Oh, nothing. Just an old greasy sandwich. You'd hate it. I can think of nobody else who would appreciate it."

"Lucky you!"

"Oh Dear! My precise good fortune, is your good fortune too. Don't forget to write about that!"

-------

9/18/2011
In the Backyard
Escondido

Poem - hooking my mind up to a feeling or a thought

hooking my mind up to a feeling or a thought
of anything that is not in front of me
is buying into an opinion that may be right or wrong

if you are not here there is no way to check to see if it is correct
therefore i should refrain from being invested
in anything but the here and now

Poem - i listen and the man gets up

my sawdusty barbed wire mind
'what do you mean by that?' the old man asks

i halt and see how full i am
'what do you mean by that?' the old man asks

i tell a joke about meetings
'what do you mean by that?' the old man asks

i shut up and i listen
'what do you mean by that?' the old man asks

i listen and the man gets up
'you better look in the mirror' says the old man

Johannes Kepler Facts

Historians write about history from their educated historical perspective. You can't blame them for wanting to clean history up a bit, to make it more important and serious. Otherwise people might start thinking that history is a sham, or a series of bizarre accidents, or historical persons were as nutty as we are today. To help clear things up, here are some less-known, historical facts about Johannes Kepler, with the books/ documents they appear in:

1. Johannes Kepler was voted "Most Likely to Succeed" by his high school class. See 'De Revolutionibus Orbium Coelestium', by Nicolaus Copernicus, pages 123- 24.

2. Johannes Kepler hated yarn and macrame. See 'Meine Ausgezeichnete Astronomie Buch' by Tycho Brahe, page 22 and Chapters 3, 6, and 9.

3. Johannes Kepler cheated at monopoly, and was a jerk when he got caught, spilling the whole board and ruining the game for everyone else. See 'Cyclopaedia: or, An Universal Dictionary of Arts and Sciences', complied by Ephraim Chambers, vol 3, pages 304 & 405.

4. Johannes Kepler sometimes bragged he made Tycho Brahe knock over a telescope, so Johannes could catch it before it hit the ground, thus making Tycho look like an ass in front of Nicolaus Copernicus when they were hanging out. See 'De Falsa Volume Incredibilis Rerum', vol 11, pages 33 - 44 and vol 12, pages 4 & 8, by Pope Lucas Watzenrode the Younger.

5. Johannes Kepler was a vampire, from Mars, and he did wrestle robot-George Washington for 2 years under the Potomac River, and he did make Superman's mother pregnant on Krypton, and Johannes Kepler was Moses, and Johannes Kepler personally built 1. The Statue of Liberty, 2. The Empire State building, and 3. Ellis Island* -- but Johannes Kepler was not able to be a daywalking vampire. Because daywalking vampires do not exist.

---------


* And J. K. invented the languages English, Spanish, German, Italian, Greek , Milwaukeian and Las Vegan

Poem - nothing but a dip/ in the cold pond

cherishing me
in my comprehension
or struggle to know god &
at the same time the above
having no opinion
/
thoughts only appear
to affect us
if we appear
to not let go of them
/
all of the above
any worry
nothing but a dip
in the cold pond

Crying when the National Anthem Played

So many of us experienced the anger, grief about the attacks on 9/11 for a long time. I have no relatives or friends who were directly taken by the terrorist attacks. But today, with the media reminding me wherever I go THIS IS THE DAY -- 10 YEARS, I find myself reliving some of the reactions I had 10 years ago. I'm also annoyed, because the news started 'ramping up' for this horrific anniversary about a week ago. I noted how the pressure for 9/11 was built up over the days. When the outlets were doing this, I was confident I would resist the emotionality of the day, faced with all the footage and audio they'd be broadcasting. But I can't see the pictures and watch the video clips without being moved, and I think about what happened that day, and all the people who died. I'd have to have a heart of stone to not feel the pain.

The entire day of 9/11, my wife and I were wrapped in a cushion of unreality. We watched the TV, helplessly. I heard people say, over and over again, "It is like a bad dream -- but made real." Then two days after 9/11, when I was driving to work, the radio station I was tuned into said something about the attacks on the United States of America, and played the National Anthem.

I grew up believing, though we can disagree on many things, every decent American is a patriot, at the core. Being 'for your country' was like having common sense. But when I heard the National Anthem two days after 9/11, I cried half way through. I've never cried to the National Anthem before, or since.

At the Intersection

At the intersection with the sedan window open, she looks at her hand that has several large fantastic rings. Sitting at the light, she looks at her dazzling french nails. She turns her hand that I can see this way, and then that, feeling a kind of poetry. She loves looking at her luxuriously pampered hands, sleek and soft, like they are moving underwater -- like a scattering of doubloons on white aquatic sand. Near a wrecked ship full of dead men. The light turns green.


------

Pacific Coast Highway
Newport Beach

Poem -- Bud

bud. he put out his fire
so others may have it
also showed them
it could be quenched

a teaching more valuable
than all thing-a-ma-jings
and explained why
wealth is unneeded

where ya gone, bud?
he's in the moon!
he's in my hair!
he's in this poem!

-----

Thanks
9.06.11

Two Quotes

(I don't mean to be obtuse -- I've had these quotes bumping around my head since I've read them in the two books I was reading. - CM)

**

"Nothing is more outwardly visible than the secrets of the heart, nothing more obvious than what one attempts to conceal. Hence a man of true breed looks straight into his heart even when he is alone."

'The Unwobbling Pivot'
Chung Yung

**

"The monks...did not conceive of their status...as merely meaning freedom from something -- such as freedom from the bonds of nature and society -- but also as conferring on them the freedom to serve their fellow man."

'Vedanta: Heart of Hinduism', page 182
Hans Torwesten

Poem - without any resentments/ whatsoever

say 'yes' or 'no'
without any resentments
whatsoever

listen to others and their advice
without any resentments
whatsoever

be glad sleep or eat
without any resentments
whatsoever

love smile and sleep
without any resentments
whatsoever

fail abide win
without any resentments
whatsoever

without any resentments
whatsoever
without any resentments
whatsoever

Poem - if god says hello/ say hello back

if god says hello
say hello back

i think that is
the thing to do

\

or possibly
be tao does

and not think
where i is

-------

The Backyard
Escondido, CA
9.01.11

Advice to Time Travelers: How to Build a Time Machine

Dear Cyril,

I'm sorry to say, contrary to the opinions of advanced scientific disciplines & theorists, it is surprisingly easy to build a time machine -- even when using only common household objects. What a person requires is the simple directions, that is all. There is ample proof to back this up, even casual cultural references: The movie Napoleon Dynamite demonstrated a TM, albeit in a tongue-in-cheek way. So let us not worry about if a time machine can be constructed.

The problem lies not in the refinement of any time-traveling device, but in the infinite time-space repercussions of either having a functional time machine, or in the irresponsibility that arises out of using it. Some of these paradoxes can be researched and found over the internet, through the Time Traveler's Home-Brew & Mercado, or in the parking lot of the Dunkin Donuts at 34th and Ash Avenues, in Escondido, Ca. More should not be said about this, save stay away from Phase-Coil back-scatterers: Ruben McKenninck!

The main point to consider is this: Why do you want to build a time machine? What is your intention to travel forward, or backwards, in time? If you have not carefully considered this -- or you cannot be truthful -- then it is definitely a great risk for yourself and your mind to use any time machine, even the joke ones.

Lastly: Please don't be the sort of idiot who goes to the trouble to making a time machine, and then asks people, where should I go, what should I do, what is 'the most fun area in time for you', how do I return back if my machine gets broken, etc.

Regards,

Potts Baily

Chung Tzu Tells Me to Get Back to Work

"You can only peel a banana once!" I say to Chung Tzu. He does not look up. I go back to work.

"If you put a pot in water long enough, it rusts inside and outside!" I say to Chung Tzu. He does not look up. I go back to work.

"George Washington wasn't the only general who crossed the Delaware!" I say to Chung Tzu. He still does not look up. I go back to work.

Later, when I'm about to say something wise to Chung Tzu, he jumps up and presses his finger against my forehead, inexorably pushing so I fall off my chair and I'm just about pinned to the floor.

"Ouch!" I say, rubbing my forehead when he lets up. "Why did you do that?"

"Oh, it was nothing, I guess. Get back to work."

Chung Tzu on Reading

"I read someone complaining, in a book, that the middle-ages in Western History are suspiciously under-documented." I say to Chung Tzu.

"Well, don't read everything you read." says Chung Tzu.

Chung Tzu: AH HA!

It is blazing hot in Newport Beach, Joe Stalin comes in. He violently dumps a canvas bag, hat, and umbrella on the threshold. A red plastic toy shovel bounces off the closet. Masses of sand and flecks of leaves scatter all over the place.

"The UNIVERSE is ENDING!" he yells dramatically.

I look at Chung Tzu, who is reading the Commentary Section of the Orange County Register. Joe Stalin marches past us, into the kitchen, to the fridge.

"ALL HISTORY IS OVER!" proclaims Joe Stalin, as he opens the fridge.

I look at Chung Tzu, and he is still reading the Commentary Section of the Orange County Register -- but now I see the newspaper is upside-down.

"GOD IS DEAD!" shouts Joe Stalin, pouring himself some iced-tea, with a slice of fresh lemon.

I look at Chung Tzu, he is still reading the Commentary Section of the Orange County Register -- but now I see the newspaper is inside-out.

"I set up Phoebe's bunk bed in the loft! She really likes it." I suggest to both of them.

"AH HA!!!" explains Chung Tzu, flinging the newspaper high into the air.

Poem - 8.25.2011

i heard like a single violin
the note warbled

it could have been my heart
but the instrument played on

i did not give up nor did
i gain strength from this life

i can smile and say it hurt
it will never stop hurting

acceptance removes the heat
from the fire

-------

8.25.2011

Chung Tzu Teaches Me How to Sail

"ALL HANDS ON DECK!" yells Chung Tzu.
I spill my coffee all over my computer keyboard.

"LUFF UP AND LOOK LIVELY!" yells Chung Tzu.
I knock over my notes, scattering them all over the floor.

"BEAR AWAY!!!" bellows Chung Tzu.
I run into the door, forgetting which side of it is the open one.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?!" I scream at him.
"Teaching you how to sail!" says Chung Tzu.

Poem - 8.14.11

i dream of a big tree
one side of it is green
the other side of it is dead

but there is no tree
and no death, only gifts refused
and sentiment rejected

oh tree i sit below you
in the dream and i fail in
meditation even in dreams

oh hard luck fellow
weary traveler who has no need
to look and find

poor son of a bitch
selfish to a fault who prays
at the same time for all happiness

in the dream i pray
for new horizons seeing moon
and stars go up and fail

there is something
in the embrace of soft deep night
with new dew ticking away

just before dawn
i wake up & take courage
from what i have;

now
cannot be banished
or dreamed away


8.14.11

Poem - like the moon or the sun

i'm here
and everything gets done
because i stay out of the way
but everyone who is invested
can see and talk to me
as much as they want &
like to the moon or the sun

it isn't hard
to listen and then shine
light there or here or with
total nondiscrimination overall
& let the god in the viewer
ponder and sort it out after
i tried and now i listen

Poem - at the very/ last moment

your memory reminds me:
i am with the boat
there is nothing else
so don't be bothered

i can feel the wind
from the top of the mast
into the body of fiberglass
and through the keen fin
like flesh

the tiller
and the sweet spot
right before you luff
or bear away
through a cloud of birds
that scatter

at the very
last moment


-----

For Stephanie

Poem - but he can/ at everything

god can't hear me
with no ears

can't feel me
with no fingers or body

can't see me
there are no eyes

god does not admire
the dawn
the day
the night
the babies
the food
the wine
the trees
the leaves
the earth
the water
the nix
the nil
the etc

but he can
at everything

so i laugh

Poem - Birthday Poem

all these numbers
on my birthday
of 44
born at 4.44 in
the afternoon

7 - 11 - 11

308 in dog years
what does it mean
funny very funny
god windsup
the next pitch

go ahead
give me the fastball

Poem - Facebook Picture

her facebook picture suggests
we all jump into her roomy cleavage
but we bounce off her face

-------

Fer
Latif

Poem - watching the crescent moon

i saw the crescent moon over santa rosa
and san francisco
over san luis obispo
&
down back
to newport beach

it was flying
always flying on the right

it started out days ago
white & thin like a fingernail

but it gained
it was low and orange
over the madonna inn
shhhhhh!
the valley is dark

tomorrow you will awake
and see everything sans moon

Attack, Just Kidding, Eternal Fish

Danny plays with his trucks in an accelerated way. I listen carefully:

"We're FIGHTING!"

"You're POOR!"

"And I'm YOUR TRUCK, TOO!"

"What? AAAAAAAH!"

He pauses, and contentedly watches SpongeBob SquarePants. Sandy the Squirrel, and Patrick the Star Fish, are being attacked by a gorilla. I, on the other hand, am thinking on what I just listened to out of Danny's mouth.

The first thing that strikes me, is I was actually listening to his play-talk and not ignoring it. Before I can think on more serious repercussions, about myself and personal accountability -- morals and ethics -- Danny interrupts me.

"Knock Knock!" says Danny.

"Who's there?" I reply.

"I have a bloody nose!" yells Danny.

"You do?"

"Just kidding!" says Danny, and "Will you read me this book?"

He hands me a book about fish.

I read him the book. Now the Universe is but a serene place, full of fish. Some a red, some are blue, some are old, some new. The fish go on, forever and ever. I read the book to him many times.

What I Got When I Searched for You on Google

When I Google your name, the results is a picture of a woman dressed as a doctor, and it looks like one side of her face is paralyzed. She also looks old and crazy, with her hair in a ragged ponytail and one of her eyes is bigger than the other. The lady is smiling brightly, the noticeable eye is bulging; I feel like she's found a bar of solid gold. I want to ask you if this is a picture of someone you know, but I'm afraid to ask if it is your mother. Then I remember what I would tell my daughter Phoebe, when she asked me difficult questions, "All comments or questions must be submitted in writing, and can take up to 60 days to respond."

Poem - love is a freshening breeze

love is a freshening breeze
and you turn and see the field
is so green not bare

Digging to China

C: "Where are you going?"

D: "I'm digging a hole!"

C: "Are you digging to China?"

D: "What's China?"

C: "I'm glad you asked. It's a country on the other side of the world. This is why we say euphemistically, when someone is engaged in an excavation, and they are a notably smaller person, they are "Digging a Hole to China". The orgin of the phrase is uncertain, though the great American writer & philosopher Thoreau used this phrase in the 1850s about a hole his neighbors were digging --"

D: "WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? ARRRGH!"

C: "I'm sorry, would you like me to help?"

There's a Lot of Things I Can't do on Facebook

There's a lot of things I can't do on Facebook, I think I should be able to do. For example, I can't mark my birthday as being in the year 1807. I like the year 1807. I also like the year 1644, and I'd like to have a combined birthday of 1807 / 1644. And I'd like to have a little smiley faces beside it so it looks like this:

: - ) 1807 / 1644 : - )

Why can't I do this? It is this mean, narrow minded thinking that hems us all in.

In terms of my real age, like most folks over 25, I take a few years off of it. So if I'm 43, I tell people my age is 22 years old. And when I'm 55, I tell people I'm 22 years old. And when I'm 99 I tell people I'm 22 years old. You see how it goes. Now, if I made it to 200 years old, I'd tell people I was 43 years old. What the hell. When I'm that old, why not?

But Facebook won't account for this preference of mine. It should do this kind of age-adjusting automatically -- ask you what percent or year amount you'd like automatically subtracted (or added) from your real age. I'd call that the inflater/ deflater applet -- you could apply it freely to salary, weight, height, etc.

Oh well, I know that Facebook will be the perfect tool for when the time comes to round us all up and make us into Soylent Green, but I use Facebook anyways.

Climbing a Tree

Climbing the huge redwood tree, out of the forest, at 40 feet I found a section of fence imbedded in the bark. I made a mental note of this, and illogically expected to possibly find a yard, and the house that was with the fence 100 years ago, but to no avail. You will find, when climbing an extraordinarily tall tree, there will be an interesting period of time when there is nothing but tree above you, and tree below you. The green green world is all branches and springy twigs and needles, you cannot see out in any direction. Should I go up or down? Is it possible to get lost in a place like this? How could the world be only Tree? Invisible hands seemed to press on me, and it was hushed & spooky. Then I saw above a wrinkle of light, and I kept going. I broke out into sunshine, and I saw that I had snuck into a royal garden of giants, all gently swaying for miles as far as I could look. With no sense of frailty, or doom, the tenderest of shoots on the tips of branches glowed, no deer would ever eat them. My finger tips were dusted in golden pollen. An eagle passed by within arm-reach, and gave me one look. Voices of my friends below were utterly blocked out, I could only hear the wind blowing from the Ocean. After this, it took me 30 minutes to climb down, and when I was asked what it was like, or where I had been, I could not say. All one could do, was do it.

------

Summer
South Fork of the Eel River
Leggett, CA

Poem - Stuck

i get the lowdown on deadly snake charming
and all the tips and tricks for success
from the handy internet
but i have no way of ordering a cobra

Poem - During the Eclipse of the Moon

it seems insane at the darkest
reddest part of the lunar eclipse
under the moon birds are excited
and my blue truck stands out
especially around the wheels
powdered with white dust

------

6.15.11
01.04.48 PST

A Very Windy Afternoon

4.30.11

It is a very windy afternoon. I watch my son play in the playground, he is by far the loudest one there. I was the loudest kid in the playground when I was a kid. When I was 8 I yelled in my best friend's ear and hurt his eardrum.
.
.

Poem - Unlovely

cloudy in the morning
to some i am not a good friend
selfish even when i say i am not

i water the lawn
realizations like this
baffling & tiresome

i water like the lawn
like it has never been watered
then i think i am a liar
about my selfishness

i read on the news
how a WWII bomber just crashed
and burned in a wheatfield
i look and look on how little is left

i want another cigarette
but i just smoked one
& nobody loves a son-of-a-bitch

Shy About Travel

I'm shy for some reason, when it comes to telling people where I've traveled. Particularly when I get back from Europe. "Where ya been?" a coworker asks me. Even though I told them I was going to England for 10 days before I left. "Spelunking in Utah." I reply. "Was it fun?" they ask. "No." I say. "Why wasn't it fun?" they inquire. "Because the whole cave was chock full of the country of England. I couldn't spelunk at all." I say.

-------

Hibert Road
2005

Poem to the 'Most Peirced Woman' in the World

so to kiss her face
her lips feel like tiny shells
my tongue skates on

------

6.13.11

Poem - Seas

grey speckled seas
to bear me up or send me
onto killer rocks

moon on the bay
a calm summer night
dipping one horn then
the other into the deep

stars as many
as you could count

wind to blow
through a body clean

whore water
bitch stealer
boat breaker

tricky lover
mouth's soul
to the initiated

Poem - when i got the news/ this morning

the death of a small pet
trifling creature

in my buffoonery
ananda i shed a few tears

over a crossword puzzle
not a sutra that i picked up

when i got the news
this morning

i can think of so many

sufferings utterly eclipsing this

but still in my sillyheart

ananda i shed a few tears

-------

For Latif

Poem - Undream

There are places and memories that I am cognizant of
only when in dreams. They have no waking equivalents
and are as real and persuasive as anything in this
undream.

As seen last night; a vestibule stained a tan color
where weary travelers wear shades and rest in long
reclining chairs. All are dressed in antique suits
and we view a canyon where the road goes down
into fog.

I am afraid and relieved to see them, they are not
surprised at anything -- neither friendly nor unfriendly.
Such is the emotions of dreams, the scene is interrupted
when I wake. I find I am in a dark room, with gently
swaying shades.