“…the caterpillar, at a certain point in its life cycle, becomes a voracious, overconsumptive glutton consuming everything in sight and within reach. At this point in its evolution it can eat hundreds of times its own weight, and the more it consumes the more fat and sluggish it gets. At that same moment of developmental excess, inside the caterpillar the imaginal cells begin to stir. Imaginal cells are specialized cells, and in the minority, but when they connect with each other they become the genetic directors of the metamorphosis of the caterpillar. At some point in the caterpillar’s feeding-frenzy stage, the imaginal cells usher in the process in which the overconsumptive caterpillar becomes the “nutritive soup” out of which the imaginal cells create the miracle of the butterfly.”
—Elisabeth Sahtouris
Wow
that feels good..
hold that a moment
hold that
put it in your heart
and let it melt there
flavouring the whole thing.
I got back to California a week ago.
Leo and i went out to the coast
and back and forth and back and forth…
from city to mountain to shore
to wedding to shore
to mountain
somewhere in those long drives
conversations came up
there was a placid destructive anger in me
speaking of my lover, my friend
the bastard leo-snake beauty my heart was so burned by
i spoke of wishing him ill
over chinese food i detailed over and over
trying not to
but just wanting to hurt him
such anger
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhu
today
back on the mountain
i am going through old files
from Leo’s computer
that litterally went up in smoke yesterday
pictures from ICUII, a camera-chat program
and last year, in the spring
that Robert found me there
as if in a forest, sneaking up behind me
“Psssst…Hello”
looking at his face
his words of love
his smiles
his eyes
seeing even Trevis in there
(the boy i ran from for him)
seeing the love
and i didn’t WANT to
but i tipped
felt the precarious edge
and fell
back in love
before i could do anything about it
i giggled
(!)
and then could look at his face with love!
i’m looking at his face with love
and
imagine him at his home now
busy with whatever he’s doing
finding some scrap of me
(there are so many)
and hastely trying to get it out of sight
and maybe it’s hitting him too
stopping him between cigarette puffs
“ahh, i love him”
i won’t know now
but my heart feels good to imagine it.
i extended past that
before even writing this
and thought of Eli
who i’ve had similar angers about recently
the same
the same.
think of him is painful
my heart aches
but there is love
and it pours over it,
soothing…
the root of love
is in our loves
our lovers
all our pasts and futures
and we have to forgive over and over and over again
we can do nothing but
for in anger
we still love them
and the intimacy brings biting and nashing
pain begetting pain
here
in love
forgive
kiss
heal
rest
i love you
and thank you
and more and more
yet again
i will remember the task i set upon myself in your name:
i will be a better lover for this world needs lovers
i will help re-create this world in love.
did everyone go home?
have i been silent enough to get the room empty?
well
we’ve been drumming up some business
well, i’ve been scouting some new talent
i’m not going to say i’m wallowing in any old pains
or make full bodies out of the bones of making any new ones
i want to explain why i’ve been quiet
i want to tell you how it was
but now is not the time for that
the fire is dying down out in the main room
the electric oil-heater in here is keeping me warm enough to be naked
and there are still some sunny days here in northern california
i can only hold my hands up as if i’m innocent
and say
‘ it was love, it was love
that stuff scares me to death
it was love and i was somewhere kicking cans in an alley
and broken bottles hitting that beautiful boy
i don’t want to feel like i’m leaving scars
i don’t want to feel like i’m poisoning the well we’re drinking from ‘
but i don’t trust the devil who’s been wearing her wings and sitting on my shoulder and telling me everything is alright
i’ve just been going along with the song because i’m tired of moaning like the junk-yard cats that are taking over the city
Somehow
i’m setting off on a journy here
being still
looking for life
beyond my searching and grabbing and wanting
somewhere
i’m going to remember the light of my center
and sit back down in it
When i kissed him
my heart poured out like a waterfall
and
whenever i feel that
what people call Love
it just hurts so much
well, i couldn’t say Just
but i couldn’t say Stay either.
Listen
i’ll do my best to make it clear
that’s not what this is about now
this is about picking the crud away from the plug i jammed the hole up with
i’m counting on a torrential flood
soon
right now i have to trick myself into at least whispers
as always
this isn’t for you, dear
it’s for me
but the more i do this
the more i can love
(and all of you anonymous fearers of love or words, thank you, thank you)
and the more i can love
the more i can be with you
and that’s all i want
not much of a life?
Girls
i’m becomming famous of my little virtues
and it’s time i do something to earn them (again)
don’t want to just rest on my laurels
(though this mountain is made of laurels, i mean it, i’d say half the trees up here are bay laurel..)
the world needs more generation of beauty
and we do it while we can
i’ll stop now while i’m unwinding
it really is time for bed
blessings
and thanks
hopefully you’ll read this in a few weeks
where it’s just a funny introduction
to something less ominous than this appears.
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