dream if bashō 26

dream if bashō
feeling carefully
in mist with
a bendy stick
you see wet
cold ground
trees like trees



--

dream if bashō 25

dream if bashō
before a roaring
stream
things seized torn
churned into it
the water placid
at the edge





--

Wiki-Stub for the Game 'Valley of the Minotaur'

I see that someone has added a stub on Wikipedia for a game I helped co-create way back in the early 1980s -- 'Valley of the Minotaur'. LOL. My friend Nick Van Dyke was a budding programmer, he coded and designed it -- and I provided the map, content, descriptions, and many of the central characters and plot for the text-based game. To Nick's credit, he was a brilliant developer -- he had already created several games using a TSR-80 -- one was a turn based Star-Trek combat simulator which had a Romulan bird-of-prey that could cloak and de-cloak when it attacked!

Later, we collaborated on a second text based adventure project, 'Return to the Valley of the Minotaur', which was finished, but not published.

The writing and concepts were heavily influenced by popular text based exploration games of the day, including 'Microsoft's Adventure', 'Zork I' and 'II', as well as the maps from 'Wizardry'. There are many mythological influences, too -- I was reading Greek Mythology widely at the time. The minotaur 'boss' character came from a creative writing short-story, called 'Revenge of the Minotaur' I had submitted to one of my teachers in English. Other influences were Dungeons & Dragons, and some of the props from Dr. Who -- the Telephone booth in the game VoTM is a reflection of the Tardis.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Valley_of_the_Minotaur

Nick and I had a great time making this game. I added to the article -- we'll see how it holds up. I might even have some of the hand written maps and descriptions in my files. I'll have to look and post them.

***

Update 6.27.14

I have the game -- my dad saved it and my mom found it. Thanks dad, thanks mom. New post with artwork.

dream if bashō 24

dream if bashō
is unafraid of a
red moon or
uncounted fields
that seem to hide
threats or
lonely sentinels






-

dream if bashō 23

dream if bashō
by an old hut
stands stock still
before a trembling
leaf and
blossoming
orchard




.

dream if bashō 22

dream if bashō
appearing so solidly

in a virgin field

of new fallen snow

his feet and yours

making tracks

that later will be gone

 

 

x

dream if bashō 21

dream if bashō
motions to the trickling
water so you see
how quickly
it races headlong
down into dust
to become mud




,

dream if bashō 20

dream if bashō
seemingly lost
in unfriendly country
finds undeniable joy
in unknowing
with feet to walk
and a place to be wandering




..

dream if bashō 19

dream if bashō
under the stars
bows to the earth
bows to you
bugs
in the weeds
going to and fro




*

dream if bashō 18

dream if bashō
is mistaken by you
as anything
like a thunderclap
or a ghost
or mud or lice
or even as bashō




_

dream if bashō 17

dream if bashō
sees the woes of
a robber
or the rage
of an innkeeper
blossoms shaken
loose rain down



:
.
_

dream if bashō 16

dream if bashō
regards two giddy
little sparrows
being watched
by a cat
chirping busy
no idea of peril




"

dream if bashō 15

dream if bashō
under an ominous
sky sways
but is upright still
then shifts the load
adjusts sandal strap
and goes on




--

dream if bashō 14

dream if bashō
holds a lantern
holds it up then
dips it down
imitating
but never truly
ever a firefly



*

Halloween 2013

Scoundrels Turned into Saviors

On reason I follow Buddha, or Buddhist teaching, is because it preaches total loving-kindness where ultimately nothing is wasted or rejected.  It even goes to say that Devadatta, one of Buddha's greatest opponents -- a betrayer, slanderer, and attempted murderer of Buddha, would not be left defeated, but rather be turned into a Buddha in a future lifetime, because of opposition and connection to the Buddha. It would be like saying in Christianity, that Judas, betrayer of Christ, would be a future Christ because of his connection to Christ and what was said and done for Christ. All renewed, scoundrels turned into Saviors.

153. In his wanderings throughout beginning less time, the fool is wrapped up in his grasping existence. As a wedge is driven out by another wedge, so the fool is led gradually into abandoning it.

    Lankavatära Sutra
    90 - 96

dream if bashō 13

dream if bashō
stepping in cremation
ashes and bone
regards the remains
like cherry blossoms
or new fallen
snow



.

手にとらば消ん / 涙ぞ熱き / 秋の霜

Poem - O

1 buddha meets 1 buddha
without comment

 

O

 

1 being meets 1 being
endlessly



--

"Stop, stop! Do not speak. The ultimate truth is not even to think."

Amban
Cheng Ch'ing-Chih
49. The Gateless Gate

 

 

Poem - it rained / all day

it rained
like grey hair
all day while
i was growing
claws

----


San Francisco
1991

dream if bashō 12

dream if bashō
cannot be found and you
feel abandoned
but when you are sure
your story has no 'back' or 'towards'
you have found home
you have found bashō




.

dream if bashō 11

dream if bashō
dances and jokes
at the edge of a cliff
while laughing
so hard his hat
falls off then sits down
with a thump



>

dream if bashō 10

dream if bashō
peers through gloom
of a moody inn
you see now
layers of smoke
and opinions
as empty as they are




----

Poem - Far Away

never late
never early

this iron cold
water
on my face

no roof to hide
discomfort

brightness
a smile
that never goes away

-----

tsuyu toku toku / kokoromi ni ukiyo / susugabaya

dream if bashō 9

dream if bashō
looking into the fire
sees in the hot coals
cities and towns
and all people
even you there
sleeping in confusion



-----

gu ni kuraku / ibara o tsukamu / hotaru kana

Poem - Noon

dreams of worriers
fade away into the haze

buzzing insects

only problem remains
being the traveler

accepting this undeniable
harsh solitary beauty


----

Nowhere
Noon

dream if bashō 8

dream if bashō
and you are staying
on a dark night
in an abandoned haunted
cemetery
all grief and plans
are buried there



\

Aki no kaze/ Ise no hakahara/ nao sugoshi

Poem - Observation after Walking a Long Time and Being Aware of Being Alone

bashō isn't it funny

you expect to die on the road
or get arrested or murdered

but often you only get lonely
then sense a quiet guilt

you'd rather be something




-----

Nowhere with Hills
Oct 2013

Poem - Noted on the Way to Over 6 Hills or More

a shingle stuck in the earth
on the side of the road

coated in mud with a child's
writing in pencil still legible

'I WEL NVR FGT YU'
'RIP SNWY'

a dog's grave
far from his home



-----

At the foot of a climbing road
alone by an abandoned corner
Oct 2013

dream if bashō 7

dream if bashō
admiring the glitter
of a dewy spider's web
motions to you to look
look look because
he is in there and
you too



x

dream if bashō 6

dream if bashō
feeling sick and you ill
adjusts his wide hat
resting at the crook
of a zig zagged trail
sees the full moon is
yellow and chuckles



"

“The moon is brighter since the barn burned”

Poem - Written on Leaving a Small Rural Town

clean blue sky
they throw a stone at me

i am not bashō
but neither was bashō
bashō


----

Outside of Town
Nowhere
Oct 2013

Poem – Written on the Occasion of Being Shaded by a Hedge

bashō slept here
rumpled grass

bashō walked here
footprints  in dust

all proof and things
gone later

as lasting as grass
or dust



*


Nowhere
Afternoon, Oct 2013

Poem - Written on the Side of the Trail

if you want to go with bashō
you can go with bashō




.

On the road past a glowing field
Mid-Morning
Oct 2013

dream if bashō 5

dream if bashō
finding home in nowhere
leads you so nicely
through deep forests
and up tall passes
the sun peeping
happy on everything




'

dream if bashō 4

dream if bashō
in the company
of robber's questions
dispels their fears
with tranquility
and points to where
you can sit




^

dream if bashō 3

dream if bashō
holds still in a gust
that shoots snowflakes
around like crazy wheels
but he is not
blinded by the display
nor distracted




*

iza saraba / yukimi ni korobu / tokoromade

dream if bashō 2

dream if bashō
in a boat at predawn
leans down and touches
the surface of a
black lake and you
in the back of the boat
and cold but amazed
seeing this ripple



- -

Poem - you don't say goodbye

you don't say goodbye
you say hello next time you see someone

never angry or afraid
open to living with things as they are

it is a dream
with real day implications

so pick up the pail
go to the top of the hill and come back down



------

dream if bashō

dream if bashō
ahead on the right
with a paper lantern
looks down the path
that twists and rises
smiles between drops
of rain



.
.

Poem - Fall

i remember

my son
found a red leaf

he gave it to me
and we took it

later I found
the leaf

in my truck

more precious
than a bar of gold


----

oct 2013

Shattering

A great huge gust of wind blows. I see a crow flying up high in the sky, almost recklessly. It is almost as sense of shattering -- but I know I do not understand these things. The crow is fine.

I think about Chung Tzu, or Lao Tzu.

-----

quail meadow
2013

Poem - I get to decide/ how long I want to cry

I get to decide
how long I want to cry

I get to decide
how long I want to be feeling happy

I decide
who I am, and if it is good or bad

I decide
what I want to do, busy or not

I am free to
see what I see, know what I know, talk how I talk, go where I go

I get to get ready
for Life, and then do it

I get to meet new people
experience them, and love the ones that are here

I get to do this every new day
and every day is new


-----

La la
:-)

Poem - rain forecast for jupiter this afternoon

diamond iceberg station
rain forecast for jupiter this afternoon
calls for diamond hail

please wear ballistic suits

a reminder:
persons on the surface are prohibited
from collecting jovian diamonds

this will ruin
the earth's economy



.

Poem - say hello nicely/ and goodbye

get a fish
feed it

buy a ball
kick it

learn a tune
sing it

go up the hill
then down

say hello nicely
and goodbye


---

Quail Meadow
Irvine
2013

Poem - Illusions

life goes on
and it isn't so bad

my illusions falling
i thought i was

a pirate
or a general
or a lover
or a hero
or a writer

  i close my eyes
  travel through space

  my shower
  is in the amazon

  my bedroom
  is under the sea

then a truck could
go by
reminds me there is
none of this

every image
and thought i have
like a bubble

but still

  i close my eyes
  travel through space

  my shower
  is in the amazon

  my bedroom
  is under the sea

Poem - Three Bits

a man
plays when
he his a fool

and prays
when he
is empty

but he is
neither man
nor fool

*

the projection
here has no
answers

but in virtue
it appearing
existent solid

and in fact
it is expression
of radiance

the projection
has no answers

*

anger
moody doubt

a wet book
afternoon rain

happy
contented faith

a wet book
afternoon rain



.

Poem Dedicated to the NSA: Spies Need Secrets to Find

if surveillance were 100%
and we could not move an inch without being observed

if they could read our brain waves
and every kind of thought without killing us

it would be like the house of mirrors
swallowing itself into itself into itself into itself

it shows that to be spied on
the 'powers that be' must leave us some space to be secret

so they can have something to spy on


-----

Dedicated to the NSA
October 2013

Poem - a presons's private/ metronome

garbage rattles
musically

as the freeway
coasts along

rhythmic tapping
on a dumpster

a person's private
metronome


*


müll rasseln
musikalisch

wie der autobahn
küsten entlang

rhythmische klopfen
auf einem müllcontainer

eine person privaten
metronome


------

Quail Meadow
October 2013

Poem - in the nocturnal reality of life/ sunrise at kettleman city

everyone was young and transparent
and someone wore a cream colored suit
like ice cream and the girls
had poofy hair and tight dresses with stripes

we would be kings and queens of industry
in a miami vice themed dream

then almost 30 years have gone by
loaded with meaning and getting heavier
at times a black oil truck driving at midnight
between LA and SF

i see in the cab is the driver with no complaints
in the nocturnal reality of life

sunrise at kettleman city



.

Poem - except the stars as a nice pillow / and the moon as a blanket

he said we could find a pureland or
a holy vision of the highest
in vegas
and damn he's right
mahasiddhas everywhere even the crows
calling out all day fighting for food
i hear them cawing out crow mantra
as the big guys walk by
without even a place to sleep tonight
except the stars as a nice pillow
and the moon as a blanket


---

for Latif

Poem - i'm in the right place

i'm in the right place
where leaf blowers sound like opera arias
sung by angels

where captain kirk
looks like st francis of assisi
and is a congressman

where fear just lost status
as essential and now

we all have lots of yummy
gumdrops in our pockets

----

Quail Meadow
Oct 03 2013

Poem - Tree Trimming in Laguna Beach / Élagage des Arbres à Laguna

parts taken out of the tree
one limb missing i found to be
lyrical and intriguing the way  it grew
i was going to hand it a piece of art there
under it's crook for delicate shelter

i remind myself trees do not have feelings
nor do they have blood
the sap flowed like yellow blood
to the sidewalk
the poet imagines strange things


pièces prises sur l'arbre
un membre manquant j'ai trouvé pour être
lyrique et intrigant de la façon dont elle a grandi
je m'apprêtais à remettre une œuvre d'art il
sous sa houlette pour s'abriter delicate

je me rappeler les arbres n'ont pas de sentiments
et ils n'ont pas le sang
la sève a coulé comme le jaune de sang
sur le trottoir
le poète imaginer des choses étranges


0


october 2
2013

Poem - F Scott

he looks out reservedly through the
cool pool of the black and white photograph
with a pen in hand and a desk underneath
supporting him and a lace doily too

he's younger than me
and he knows in his snappy paper collar
that his chosen life and friends are going to kill him
and it is only a matter of time

but the parties and the laughing
on the way might make it worth it like
paris and new york might
or even hollywood

i have a novel of his here
full of wistful promise hope and then
the pages run out and the characters he wrote
stand like statues in the mind

he made persons eternally bright
and tense while true life slopes
dims and tends to forget photographs
and how it all started






.

Writing - Prenez bien soin de vous!

Truly it was a great first date, not so when you tried to burn the restaurant down. To be fair, I don't think you meant to burn the restaurant, nor combust the food more than it was combusting. The décor was, as it turns out, alarmingly flammable. My clumsy attempt at winking at you and saying something disarming, in French, may have contributed. Or possibly you have some bad memories I knew nothing about, connected to the French, their language, or their culture.

Barely singed, you and I ended up in the alley, next to the trash. You squeezed my hand, and said goodnight, framed by the burning doorway where we stood. The small peck on my cheek still palpable, even now three days later. I will treasure the pinhole like burns on my sleeves, and the gaping burn marks on my slacks from that night, forever. And if only my French was any good at all. Prenez bien soin de vous!


-----

Quail Meadow
Fall, 2013

Poem - the world is not so broken after all/ if papa is humble

the world is not so broken after all
if papa is humble

nothing dangerous nor strange
when papa is humble

what could be sad is happy
what ended can start again

spring in fall
summer in winter


----

Quail Meadow
Irvine
2013

Poem no. 4,338

yes, to be humble is to be less selfish
and to be in pain is an indication of ego disagreeing with everything

yes, there is nothing to get or have
there is no attainment because awareness is innate and self-revealing

if it is for flowers blooming and clouds becoming
why is it also not for you

we don't have debate with which way the river flows
why would you be biased

people or the coming of autumn
a bill or an award the end of something and starting new




+

Even When I do not Understand a Thing

I had a dream I was on a covered porch, probably my grandmother's porch in St. Louis, Missouri. There with many bicycles parked closely to one another to one side, some old, some new. It as late afternoon and a bee got in somehow. It was buzzing around me. It didn't seem to want to sting me, just being problematic, distracting -- going between me and in and out of the bicycles. I gently would swat at it with an old flyswatter, but this did not seem to bother the bee -- it was unkillable and not bothered. I was trying to herd the bee from out from the bicycles, and out the screen door that I had propped open. Eventually, the bee seemed to get smaller in size, until it was like a small golden bean. Then it decided to go out the crack in the screen door I made for it. When I woke up, I had no idea what the dream meant, and the significance of the bee. But later, I understood who the bee was, and why. And how I need to be so very gentle, even when I do not understand a thing.


----

Quail Meadow
September 2013

Transparent Buddhas on the Horizon

Light traffic. Everyone on the freeway looking the same direction. A transparent Buddha on the horizon, the size of a mountain, staring at him with no pity.

*

When he arrived, he made friends with a shy dog.


------

Huntington Beach
September 2013

Writing - Secret and Total Joy

There's no harm done, none at all. When I am in pain, it is because my ego is criticizing others, and I need to become less selfish. What a wonderful opportunity to let things go, and experience how no one is dependent upon anyone else for basic natural happiness. To see how this natural satisfaction is always with yourself, how you can never be separated from secret and total joy.

Or, to see the limitlessness of a blue sky, with no clouds. It is. You cannot be prejudiced against it.

*

The weather is changing, and fall is coming. It will be beautiful, when the leaves change. Can you feel it coming?


----

Quail Meadow
September 2013

Writing - Please Call Me

I quit the news, and listen to Mozart. All I do is work, and listen to classical music. I even stop updating social media, and using Google for searching. I feel spied on. I know I'm not doing anything important.

On the day the decide to round up the intellectuals, they'll skip me. When they decide to imprison the non-Christians, or people who are kooks, then they'll get me.

*

The apartment complex is unusually quiet. Please note this in my file. Also, if you have a nice job, please call me.


------

Oh Harmless Error!

When it hurts, it hurts, and you can't do anything about it. Doing something about anything -- oh harmless error!

See how I am being taught: dark sky is the color of wine. God, look at that beautiful half moon! And we are below, like the birds sleeping in the branches of trees.


-----

Quail Meadow
September, 2013

Poem - like an angel

I wrote it on a crumpled scrap of paper

he said drop the story
get out of the way
and trust in something

and when you do this
and listen to people
and see how you can help
you can become something amazing and beautiful

you can become a thing you've heard about
like an angel


---

Poem - memories of last night of the moon and a star

at dusk venus next to the crescent moon
proved to me I do not understand anything

but yet everything is possible like fresh green apples at the store
I saw this morning when I prayed for direction

and I was shown the apples the store the day the greatest blue sky
memories of last night of the moon and a star


----

Note

Consistently keep loving.



Consistency is key.



And laugher.



So here’s laughing at all of us.



.

Chart: How should I be?

How should I be? Well, I drew this chart.

Poem - as the giants above me smile

son and i build a train layout
of wooden tracks on the
living room carpet

and for an hour i play with him
just like i promised

all the trains run on time
and everyone likes their job
even at the steam works

that night when i go home
i dream of small wooden trains

i am a wooden man on one
painted bright blue and on schedule
as the giants above me smile


----

for Danny
September 2013

Poem - The unknown person

The unknown person

Like seeing a ship at night

Or a sail or lantern of that same boat

On the horizon

How mysterious it is

It could be coming or going

Depends on the time

 

Or a feeling


*


The sea rules


In measureless depths


And the unknown person


Is a reflection of it

.

 

 

 

Poem - Action

More thoughts, a string vibrating
easily taken by happiness
just as prone to being swamped
by doubts and anger

But somehow I am better than you
I think, more virtuous
or more capable at understanding
how we have no center

Then with appreciation of my arrogance
my high pride, how this
makes me worse than blind
because I feel special

.

I asked him what to do
and he said one word "Action!"

.

-----

Quail Meadow
August 2013

Vivaldi: Concerto #8 in g RV 332

if you ever were in love with me
you'll think of me unexpectedly
when you see or hear something
that pleases you

because not everyone knows
how beautiful things can be


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i5vicJ7Vqk4

-------

Quail Meadow
August 2013

005. Simoleons? Bread? Moola?

The day is bright and there is too much frosted white here. White, white white. And glass. Or plastic walls. They say it feels clean.

The day is white like a vibrating snare drum, I think. Snare drum. Skin stretched on a metal circle.

"Do you know what a snare drum is?" I ask one of the youngsters, Rex, as he brings in a white tray.

"Golly, Mr. Evans!"

"Do you know what a snare drum is?"

"No I don't!"

I have lived long enough so a kid does not know what a snare drum is. Not the faintest idea. Like when I was a kid, I wouldn't have known what a powder horn was.

"Hey Rex! Do you know what a powder horn is?"

"You know, I think I do know what a 'powder horn' is!" he says, smiling brightly. "I saw one in the Smithsonian, it had to do with antique rifles. George Washington used one!"

Goddamn it!

Rex smiles and he checks the wall, answers a few messages, and lines up a few things so they look neat.

I see a light on the wall, a dot. It is the size of a dime. I'm thinking money has been illegal for about 35 years.

"Do you know what a wallet is, Rex? "

"Wow, Mr. Evans! You crack me up! See you later."

"OK, Rex."

"Cat tryout time will be at 6 tonight!"

That's right. I forgot. If I'm extra good, I get a cat.

I'll name him Moola.

------

Rengszal Retirement Village
formerly Palo Alto, CA
September, 2055

004. Mariner 5

PHOEBOS: MARINER 5 :  LINE OPEN

PHOEBOS: MARINER 5 :    DADDA WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU DOING THERE?

DADDA: RENGZL :    WHYAT I

PHOEBOS: MARINER 5:    DAD IT IS AUTOMATIC JUST TALK TO THE WALL THIS MESSAGE IS ON

DADDA: RENGZL :    I SEE

PHOEBOS: MARINER 5:    I WAS WORRIED SICK

DADDA: RENGZL :    OH DON’T WORRY IT IS FINE JUST FINE

PHOEBOS: MARINER 5:    I AM GOING TO CUT MY CONTRACT SHORT

DADDA: RENGZL:    WHAT ARE YOU SAYING

PHOEBOS: MARINER 5:    YOU READ IT RIGHT I WILL COME BACK IN TWO MONTHS IF YOU KEEP DOING THINGS LIKE THIS

DADDA: RENGZL :    NO NO NO WE ARE FINE HERE

PHOEBOS: MARINER 5:    I WAS WORRIED SICK

DADDA: RENGZL :    OH DON’T WORRY

PHOEBOS: MARINER 5:    I WAS WORRIED SICK ONE LAST CHANCE DADDA

DADDA: RENGZL :    WHAT I Y BEOS L M

PHOEBOS: MARINER 5:    TALK RIGHT TO THE TEXT IN THE WALL DADDA

DADDA: RENGZL :    I WAS SAYING EVERYTHING IS FINE HERE

PHOEBOS: MARINER 5:    NO MORE ADVENTURES

DADDA: RENGZL :    OK

PHOEBOS: MARINER 5:    PROMISE ME

DADDA: RENGZL :    I WAS SAYING EVERYTHING IS FINE HERE

PHOEBOS: MARINER 5:    I KNOW WHAT YOU SAID

DADDA: RENGZL :    OK

PHOEBOS: MARINER 5:    BE GOOD

DADDA: RENGZL :    EVERYTHING IS FINE HERE

PHOEBOS: MARINER 5:    OK BUT BE GOOD OR IM COMING BACK EARLY

DADDA: RENGZL :    NO NO ALL IS WELL

PHOEBOS: MARINER 5:    ARRG I HATE WHEN YOU SAY THAT

DADDA: RENGZL :    OK

PHOEBOS: MARINER 5:    GOODNIGHT GO TO BED

DADDA: RENGZL :    GOING TO BED

PHOEBOS: MARINER 5:    I LOVE YOU

DADDA: RENGZL :    I KNOW THANK YOU

PHOEBOS: MARINER 5:    AND?

DADDA: RENGZL :    I LOVE YOU TOO

PHOEBOS: MARINER 5 : TRANSMISSION END

-----

Rengszal Retirement Village
formerly Palo Alto, CA
Spetember, 2055

003. The Ruins

I meditate a lot, and sometimes I forget where I am, or how I got somewhere. I'm looking at the stubs of what used to be a building, a home. The road is barely noticeable in the dunes, beach grass, and scrub. The wind is blowing and is cold.

"Was this the place?" says my grandson.

"Yes."

There is blue smoke in the air, from the fishing shacks that are 4 miles down near the bay.

"We stayed here, the teenagers had a 'girl-cave' in the bottom of the house." I say, to make it more reasonable we are here.

"People fish here still. Incredible!"

"Yes."

"Do they eat the fish, too?"

"Yes."

The fishing shacks are more like hovels, built with no discernible pattern. The wood they are built out of looks dull grey, and silver. We can see specks, people, that seem to limp or crawl about.

"We should be going."

"Yes."

We hear a strangled cat-like noise, and there is a person who has come from around a dune. It looks like a woman. She is maimed, blistered, and dressed in rags. She holds her arms out to us plaintively.

My grandson moves quickly to be between me and the woman. He takes a silver thing out of his pocket. She stands there, looking over his shoulder at me.

"We should be going."

"Yes."

As we trace our way back, she just stands there arms still wide open like a statue, only her old rags moving when the wind blows. She never stops looking at me.

I look back a few times, when I think my grandson is not looking at me.

My grandson sees anyways.

*

We're standing by the car. My grandson is calm.

"Before we go, use the bag, Gramps. Get in all the way this time, and press the green button."

"And wait 45 seconds." I say, wanting to please him, have him feel better about the upset.

"Exactly."

We both do the routine with the Clean Bag.

When we are done, I see the pooling dark and I can see the moon rising, with a star, over the ocean. We take off.

Not a speck of dirt or sand in the car this time.

*

Halfway back, as the car calculates, my grandson speaks.

"My mom is going to go nuts."

"How so?"

"Grandpa - you know she told me to keep an eye on you."

We don't say anything for the rest of the way.

When I get out, he waves at me wordlessly, and is gone before I get to the exit.

When I lay down, I can't sleep.



----

Bodega Bay
Zone 2 /
Rengszal Retirement Village
September 2055

002. A Trip to Bodega Bay

My grandson will play cards with me, Servicer dirigible is coming in, I can hear it buzzing. My grandson is in his Workout Uniform, which means he's in a bad mood, but I can't help myself.

"Let's go to Bodega Bay."

"What Gramps?" he says with a hint of exasperation in his voice, still polite.

"Bodega Bay."

"Gramps, you know how it is to go to places like Bodega Bay."

"Why so?"

"Sand is dirty. Remember last time how much I had to clean, after we took a trip to Bodega Bay? Nobody does it."

The Servicer is almost here, making a racket.

"I guess so." I say, feeling just a bit pushy. But giving up on the idea.

"I dug holes there with you dad when he was a kid, a little younger than you." I say before I can stop myself.

"A lot younger." He says.

"You saw the pics?"

"Yeah, Gramps."

"We had a good time, your Dad and me. With his cousins."

The wall trills.

"Yeah?" I say.

"So you do answer!" says my grandson, with a cross look on his face. He throws his cards down.

"What? Nevermind! Its Van Dyke." I talk quickly in 'coded oldster' language to Van Dyke, for about 15 seconds. Van Dyke gets it. I hang up.

My grandson looks at me suspiciously like I'm planning illegal things, like looking at porno or drinking alcohol. As if!

He takes advantage of the situation.

"Gramps! Stop driving Mom and Dad nuts with the not answering."

"Ok, kid. Ok."

The Servicer lands, it isn't making any more noise.

"I can take you to Bodega bay."

"Oh, really?" I feign forgetfully.

"Gramps -- you crack me up. I can go next week."

My grandson -- he's smart as a whip.

-----

Rengszal Retirement Village
formerly Palo Alto, CA
August, 2055

001. The Ringing Plastic Wall

This morning, in my new place the family moved me to, I hear an old style telephone ringing. It rings and rings.

I cannot answer it, because it is the wall. A cream-colored featureless plastic wall.

I decide to take a walk.

"Gamps, ya gotta answer when I call you." my grandson says when he visits me.

"Hey pal, I don't know what your talking about."

"Gramps, I've been trying to get you to answer all morning."

"How so?"

My grandson touches the sleeve of his business suit, and we hear the telephone noise again.

"There it is." he says.

"Where is it?"

"There -- hear it!"

"Its a plastic wall."

"Exactly!"

"Why a wall?"

"Gramps -- everybody has one. Especially oldsters."

"Why?"

"You know, Gramps. You can't lose it. Plus 'I've fallen and I can't get up...'"

"Thanks kid."

"I love you, Grandpa" says my grandson, surreptitiously shining chat through his class ring into his eye.

We hug, he always hugs me when he goes, no matter how busy he is. I wave to him as he takes off from the roof. He's a good kid.

Later, the wall starts ringing again.

I decide to take a walk.

----

Rengszal Retirement Village
formerly Palo Alto, CA
August, 2055

Two Random Quotes

"Usually the use of sarcasm is not a sign of spiritual progress."

"Being angry, or resentful, and then acting on this -- it is like using a bulldozer to bake a cake."

  - A.


.

Poem - I think tonight

I think tonight
that God was in a good mood
when he made me

and so I'm going
to return the favor,
and be in a good mood
towards everybody else
who is here.



----

Quail Meadow
August 2013

Tamer and Hardly Running Away

I'm up early again, riding my bike before dawn. Solitary, going to meetings. As I should be, I see.

It was like this when I first got sober, in Chicago. A clown on a bike, with nobody around, the fading moon or a star over my shoulder as I go. All respectable people who have no problems, asleep or trying to wake up.

The bike lanes are wider here, the roads smoother, with no parked cars to negotiate around.

Along the way I see bunnies, like in Oak Park -- they are tamer and hardly run away from me when I pass them.

-----

Irvine
August 2013

Poem - Looking at Pictures

They are happy
they cling together
they are smiling
they never stay together

There is always
someone new
in the picture


But it looks good
all this happiness
and all this smiling

Is there Hell behind
or soft pillows of Heaven
no conscious human
can abide with

I don't know

Poem - Appearances / A Hundred Thousand Meteors Will Fall in the Sky Tonight

A hundred thousand meteors
will fall in the sky
tonight.


  I hope I was false enough
  or encouraging enough
  or angry enough
  or sad enough
  or firm enough
  or kind enough
  or perceptive enough
  or real enough
  or happy enough
  or scary enough
  or lovely enough
  or faithful enough
  or brave enough

  However you saw me
  I hope you won't forget about me

  And I hope it was as it should have appeared

  For your safety
  security
  peace of mind
  well-being.


A hundred thousand meteors
will fall in the sky
tonight.





.

News: CM Evans in the Napa Valley Register

Here is a link to the Napa Valley Register -- you can see how a person is supposed to roll. That Uncle Chris dude is perfect.

http://napavalleyregister.com/lifestyles/columnists/jennifer-huffman/who-me-serious/article_c8656b02-fcce-11e2-83f9-0019bb2963f4.html

Poem - The Mind

The mind is like an eternal hammer and anvil,
our thoughts are like red hot bars of steel
to make into wonderful things --

Strike when the material is burning,
and shower your life with the sparks.


.

Problem Solved

Which reminds me of a dream I had last night. There was some kind of problem, and the solution for it was quite simple and sane:

1. Dress up like a banana
2. Eat bananas


----

OK go do it!

Poem - Ringsal

they incinerate you
and gems and other precious substances
spill out of your body in handfuls

they call this 'ringsal'
i am told and it is very holy
'ringsal' 'ringsal' 'ringsal'

i cry


.

Lama Tharchin

Poem - on gozo calypso held odysseus

on gozo calypso held odysseus
in her love for many years
and he suffered longing on
scenic hills

looking over the ocean
towards home

for seven years she begged him
to let her make him immortal
for her love could do this if accepted
but he refused

many men reject
this gift from a woman



.

Gozo Loves Double-Speak

Gozo loves double-speak. And he loves the news. Now when he's outright lying -- he'll just say he's 'recreating the narrative by employing parallel construction.'

Gozo tries this with Ella.

"Would you like some kinetic education?" asks Ella sweetly like an angel.

"What is kinetic education?"

"It is when I beat your ass 'till yer dead, with a baseball bat."


.

Cartoon -- A Scoop of LA Zeitgeist / Midnight LA Cartoon no. 2

Another cartoon drawn at 'The Pikey'.

CM Evans Cartoons

Cartoon -- A Scoop of LA Zeitgeist / Midnight LA Cartoon no.1

A scoop of LA zeitgeist.

Drawn at 'The Pikey' on W Sunset Boulevard. We had a good old time.

CM Evans Cartoons

Poem - If he was less

If he was less

He’d be distressed with me

For being upset that he is out

Now that I cannot find him bodily

He is nowhere to be found

He is everywhere

I have to live and wake up

Through my dreamy

Dreams

He is smiling at us

As we keep playing

Cops n robbers inside the house

----

 

Om Mani Padme Hung

Lama Tharchin Rinpoche

Tenth lineage holder of the Repkong Ngakpas

July 22, 2013

 

Poem - and like in a slapstick movie

you were just getting back
and then you were gone

and like in a slapstick movie
they took you to the hospital
that you had just left

and your sick friend
had no idea you were downstairs
in a quiet area
with a sheet over you

Twins

There were two beautiful brunettes that lived around here, and they were twins. Mysteriously serious, they wore sunglasses and walked matching dogs. Then one day there was a single twin walking two small dogs. She introduced herself to me and said her name was Jenna.

I asked her where her sister was -- and Jenna said that Brianna wasn't feeling well, that she had been institutionalized. But the family was holding out hope for her, it had happened before.

I asked her if she wanted to grab a coffee sometime, and she said yes.

Later, after Jenna and I had been dating, she asked me if I wanted to go see Brianna. So I said yes, and we traveled to the facility. It was a nice quiet place, bright and professional, with lots of people in lab coats and clean looking families.

We sat down in the private visiting room, with Jenna lightly holding my hand, which trembled a fraction feeling like a dried leaf when Brianna was led into the room. Brianna smiled at us both radiantly, delicately, and sat down.

Brianna said softly she had heard all about me from her sister, and was so glad to finally meet me. She was feeling much better now. She looked forward to going home soon. Jenna decided to leave just then, to ask the Psychiatrist a question about Brianna going home, she would be right back.

When Jenna left the room, Brianna looked at me with a dull look in her eyes, and I noticed her hair was disheveled. I want you to know something, she said in a hollow voice. I am not Brianna. I am Jenna.

I am Jenna, she said. The door opened and her twin was with the Doctor and they were both smiling.

.

PlentyOfPhish

The online dating service he uses -- "PlentyOfPhish" ripped off his bank account, stole his passwords, and ruined his Google calendar. But he does not know this. He's been going to the new appointments, the dates stand him up, he wonders why he scheduled them, and he has no bus fare to get back.




.

Terrible Accuracy

I go to the golf course to be angry, extremely angry. I works well for me. My game has not improved, but I've perfected an explosive yell and a 9 iron toss. I can shoot that 9 iron like a javelin, at anyone on the links, with terrible accuracy.







.

Pops the Goon

Pops was the kind of guy, who, if he heard of something bad happening to someone else, he'd feel a little better, in general, with his own life. You could say he'd get a bit of 'bounce' from bad news. We are all like this in some ways -- the Germans even have a word for it: Schadenfreude.

But Pops was an example of this tendency run riot. He constructed a cat's-cradle like context of days, months, and sometimes years, based off the misfortunes of his friends, associates, and family. 2001 would be remembered by Pops as "Bob's Cancerous Car Accident" May 11th 2011 was marked in Pops' mind as "Mary's Epic Spring Ladder Fall into the Glass Bottles". June 2013 was known simply as "Unlucky Bob Gets the Shits in Church".

Pops saw all. He kept calendars of the faults and accidents of the people around him, with a simple coded scoring shorthand, much like this:

FP = face plant
LI = lost item
AD = arrested drunk
AD2 = arrested drunk again
1, 2, 3, 4.. = the number of venereal diseases
F = fired
S = stabbed
K = killed

And it was all going well until he accidentally donated one of his annotated calendars to the thrift-shop around the corner, and Bob found it inside the sleeve of a scratched album of The Velvet Underground. Bob was sorting the new things that were donated, and he recognized Pops' tidy writing on a stickum note on the album, "Music to Enjoy".

Ironically, the vinyl album had been scratched in Pops' ecstasy of finding out Bob had deadly cancer ('DC') and a car accident ('CA') after finding out about the diagnosis on the way home. Bob let everyone know about Pops, and there wasn't much to explain.

I Always Imagined

I always imagined you were at death's door and dying slowly in Dickensian poverty -- heroically, even a bit sadly, as a shut-in. I imagined how you'd look at the wall and a patch of sun, tracing the arc of the wall every day, over your books, your papers, how you would sit there with dry tears in your eyes. And how your wife would move slowly and quietly like a ghost in the background, offering you hope. But I found out yesterday you have been on vacation in Maui, and you've been feeling fine for about 5 years. So I feel cheated.




.

Bodice Ripper - or - Thundering Romance Story

I plan on writing a 'bodice ripper' to make some money, but when I start, I get stuck with the plot, the characters, and the setting. For the past 10 months I have lived in a airshaft, with a stolen laptop and pilfered food and Wi-Fi. I wasn't always like this, hiding in an airshaft and shitting in a a tin, drinking out of old gin bottles I use to have water here. Perhaps my romance novel will start with the main handsome fellow, hiding in an airshaft -- and by chance he falls in love with a beautiful expensive lady, who has a means to understand, and support him. Like the one on floor 4, in this shaft. Until he gets back on his feet. That would be a hell of a start for a thundering romance story.

All I Need is One Spoon

I get a shocking boost of testosterone and a sense of well-being from silverware. Just me, genetics I guess -- when they figure out it is the silverware, they lock all the silverware up. I enter a period of deep mourning for my spree, and how I can have it. After I give the FDA and the military doctors the slip. All I need is one spoon.

Asking Three Times

When I asked a Buddha what he or she had for me, they said, "Nothing."

When I asked again, they saw my willingness, and said, "Something."

When I asked a third time, they saw my honesty, and nothing more needed to be said.


-----

Quail Meadow
July 2013

Poem - The Flower Sermon

..... like this

.







/





`







.

....

Poem - I don't need to know the news

I don't need to know the news
I see how it drives people into anger

I see how the commercials with the news
inflames passion and unhappiness

I see how the news tries to twist us
and get us to be opinionated to argue

There are people who want us to be agitated
and live in tragedies we didn't experience

Then we are split by the life around us
because it isn't on the news

 

And the strong bright day

or trembling love will never be reported

----

Poem - at the end of a darkened street

before i'm ready i'll write a poem
to elvis costello

he sings about going to the very end
and it should be fine though he knows it is wrong

even though tonight we'll meet
at the end of a darkened street

avoidable these errors
because we rely on people and dreams

Poem - Astonishing

it was just a song
I listened to

the same song when
I first got to know you

and when I heard it
it reminded me of everything today

like someone who had misplaced
all of the continent of Africa
and then they remembered

it is astonishing
what we can forget
as well as what we can remember