Month: November 2010

So,
it is important to try this
to check this
see if i can type like this
away from the mouse>>>
will that make a difference?
big problem: i cannot read it.
sizing it to to the window
the ruler on top is just short of Seven
the keyboard in my lap
feet up
this may be perfect
nothing to get distracted by
sitting back
in the chair like this

Tell me: how do you feel?

i feel OK.
not so bad…
i mean
this last week
two weeks?
since i first smoked pot?
or was…
well, i’ve felt pretty terrible since i got here
but it’s been an evolution
of course
the first few days i was here i already felt angry with Leo
and that only lasted a few days
then i just loved him for a few weeks
my heart was so filled with sadness
maybe i was just in my heart
feeling everything…
but no, it was before the marijuana i was angry with him again
the trip down
the first trip down
i’ve been pretty angry with him since then
the marijuana helped me just be honest in my body with it

ideally
i would like the patience to just let him ramble on about how much he hates the world
how disappointed in it he is
how glad he is to leave it
go back to God
what do i expect?
by being angry with him he’ll see the error of his ways and repent?
They have already made their choice: they worship the next world, not this.
i belong to a different cult, me and Allen Ginsberg
we’re here
we’re suffering it
we’re loving it
hoping beyond reason there is a way to get past the impossible
to heal the unhealable

what has my mind been doing lately?
i sat back and thought of…
it passed through my eyes like a conversation
while walking on the road
in the rain
all the people
in suburban homes
or in these white trash shacks
or in double wides
or wheelies
i think of the people of America
it’s hard for me to ever accept that they’re not fully conscious of every action they make
and every consequence

while Misha was talking with me
on the corner of the deck there
outside the chapel
i had that Acid type feeling
(goddess elk)
with full clarity that
– he was a bubble of earth. i was. we were. pushed through the fabric of reality
animate and together
some agreement
every being
every story
every catastrophe and fear
we have brought it here
everything beautiful
my hands open and cold in the beautiful winter air

of course
how come i never realized that solstices and equinoxes were the MIDDLE of the seasons? what ever made it make sense they were the beginnings?
does all of our Study abstract us from the apparent?

do we all forget
or are most of us mere champagne bubbles?
beer?
soda pop?

i remember thinking earlier this year
or last year
or yesterday
about how i was done with Leo
how he was condemning himself to death
and i had to accept that
and be fine with it
i gave my reasons why it was good
and how i was absolutely fine with letting go of it
i had my two weeks of mourning when i arrived
all my clinging
now i’m back to just being in it
and again
i just think the only thing good for him to do is let go at this point:
i don’t hear how he likes being here
i only hear how it hurts him.

it’s true
to live
we have to decide to live
we have to decide that with each breath
every moment

it makes sense to know that life is good
we are here only as we can be
it is only what it is now
the best we can do is remember that we are loved by it
as we love ourselves
all of it
and though we have no idea what is coming next
to have faith in our own love
to endure the experience
and keep walking

he told me my main work here is to identify this feeling of being stuck
do i really want to be at a party?
am i really enjoying living in that big populated city?
i do like
i do need…

the constant interaction
the watching, listening
the desiring of desiring
the moving of movement
the learning of teaching
and how

but here
in this silence
i would like to learn stillness
and not stuckness
i would like to remember
and beyond, what i never got as a kid
how to just breathe
and that one breath
catching every missed one
that night’s sleep
resting every avoided dream
to read, understand, remember every book
to sit, feel, communicate every thought, story
with full anger, appreciation, and love

that’s all i want
to be a singer
another satellite speaker
mouth of the unsayable
heart of the unlovable
truth of the unknowable

in my dream last night
i left my lover, my charge…
we went to visit his friend
who would not reveal himself to us
presenting himself behind a gigantic puppet of a pumpkin
i excused myself to use the restroom
knowing it was around back, through the hall
but i walked around the block instead
on the corner, an odd intersection
old deco building housing public restrooms
frosted glass, green metal
(this was Kreutzberg or The Village)
i pushed open the men
and it had just been rehabbed
reopened
a large foyer
beautiful stairs down
to a huge open space
gender separated
a wall of new hip fashion
hand-screened shirts
some hand painted
hats, paintings on canvas
and the other wall
huge old tile terrace cascades of warm water
boys naked
sauna/baths/steamroom
public rest room
i stayed till it closed
claiming some hand-made books from the glass cases
a few t-shirts
and a special edition shirt in a vintage ammo box
did i bring any money with me?
some other people were opening one of the ammo boxes
what does the shirt look like?
i heard them saying something about how it’s all the newest artificial fibers
which put me off
the shirts were long and baggy but thick, like apron versions of vivian westward punk shirts, the paint was thick and rubbery and overbearing
$160 for the shirt
ah…

they were closing the doors
night at come
everyone was supposed to have left
there was a fashion show starting in the hallway, now open, between the men’s and women’s side
which was also an art gallery
industrial green tile

sitting next to a wooden bookshelf is Catherine Keener
writing in a journal
but in the dream she is Katrin Cartlidge
maybe she’s playing her…
but she’s her
and she’s crying
and writing in a lined notebook (muji)
the show is starting
the crowd has gathered
i can’t find the stuff i was going to buy
i don’t have any money anyway
and the shop is closed
and it’s night?
where did i leave my friend?
do i know where to meet him?

it’s 5:36 am
and i’ve woken up in a motel room next to man i met at a bar in SF
a man i found attractive
and he decided to drive up here and get a room to spend a night with me
why?
i hadn’t given a massage in over a month:
Leo isn’t liking being touched for the most part
just barely
and doesn’t seem to enjoy massage from me
or cuddling…
and as i wrap my arms around his man
i feel his life
the tension in his back
all of his pain and worry
and it flows through me
and i feel it in my body
and i know what to do with it
i know how to take it
to channel it
to flow it through and out
and when we’re laying on the bed
i’m laying on him
his chest hairs tickling my nose
locking in with my beard
and i can feel all the sadness
the tension
the worry
flowing out of me
into him
ease
calmness
and he says, later
“i guess that’s the great irony of your life
that the men you seek to be your father
to take care of you and give you comfort and love
you end up being the care taker for, and comfort them”
i suppose
i remember what i always used to say:
if you know what you need and can’t seem to find it
start giving it to everyone around you
soon you’ll be surrounded by what you need
and you’ll be nourished…

i don’t want anything specifically anymore
i want everything

of course
of course

the difficulty of being in integrity
with the great disparity of being. . .

if it’s simple
let yourself be loved
let it be simple
let yourself beloved
there is plenty
a million moments for complication
tomorrow will
“tomorrow will not be too late”

“i will take the sun in my mouth
and leap
into the air
alive
with closed eyes
to dash my
heart
against
the sleeping curves
of my body

i will enter
smooth
mastery”
(“i will wade out
till my thighs are steeped
in burning
flowers”)

i don’t know what are the proper gifts to give anyone
i hardly know what is good for me

but this rock is beautiful
and this burl
amazing
useful?
i don’t know.

the radiation from this wand:
healing?
what if it will poison us?
let’s decide it’s a Yin Wand
all their bullshit science talk
razed to Yin
Zero
the infinite possibility of Zero
of the Mother
of Yin

i told him, last night, of my
what
dark trial?
my saturn return
i guess
was that the biggest challenge?
(or the final breaking of my heart? final for that life…)
that i was sick
and found out
and got sicker
and laying in the dark
on the bed
on the floor
the rooves open around me
i asked for help
and from the darkness came Rasputin
an infinitely dark beast
with claws
and red ember eyes
come to eat my soul
terrifying and true
and i said to him
‘why be so scary? i know you are god coming to heal me… i need my soul devoured and you have come to eat me… do i have to pretend to be scared? can i just be grateful’
and i was and slept well that night
what did Crowley say?
those who have will still have
those who have not
will have everything taken from them
more than they can even imagine
was that it?
how are we ever supposed to be whole with these clothes on?
did i talk about clothes?
Last Night?
did i say
the unsayable
dressed up
the invisible man
useless to the viewer
unless you put clothes on him
but the clothes are never him
ya never see the truth
see the unseeable
all about that
last night
i knew
i know
i have to take it all off
every last hair
again?
let myself be eaten
burned
devoured
annihilated
dad’s favorite love
and what is eaten is perfection
and what is left is perfection
simplified

here you are
mirror of understanding
stay with me tonight
and always
today
in all ways
stay with me
in love

i have to sit back and listen to some music
something familiar
but i turn on New Order.
the first song of their’s that ever settled in my head/heart
“regret”
but it’s a half hour before i return to my blank page

it seems like years since i’ve been able to type at a computer
and it mostly is
i’m trying to ease back into it
i somehow lost the ability
getting far too distracted by anything in the 10,000 windows
39 of the 40 nights gone wasted

i was brushing my teeth and thought:
“i’m settled in here
this is what it is
i know it
and i am set to endure it
but i am not experiencing any joy about anything at this point
everything feels like a heavy foot lifting
tired
up hill
in the snow
all that shit

i’m here to help
not to say there is nothing to do
like every moment in my adult life
there is far too much to do
stifling my head
shallowing my breath
a moment of apprehension
then spending the rest of my days trying to catch up to that lost breath

the reason
to say The
well…
a reason i stopped traveling
stopped traveling
got some shoes of my own
my name on a lease
keys to my own room

days to set my own pace
find my own steps
and have my own life

in every man i ever met
like the one i was born into
i crashed into their lives
completely Other
but with nothing to show for it
an no name to come
i have just been at odds
stuck in the middle of Their reality
their friends
their truths
their reality
of which i have a completely different understanding than they do
no connection to
and no task in
but to be ridiculed for living in their world incorrectly
(yes, i know, i know)
to be offended by their day to day
and to offend them whenever i make pronouncements about my experience
then feel bruised that the door of love is closing between us…

oh, i gave that up
along with the rest of the world
to satisfy my waning patience
but here i am again
with an invisible death card
held awkwardly
perhaps behind his back
impossible to forget
but not in play right now
still
it keeps me here
and with good reason

but that’s clear to me as well
as i’ve been able to see so many other relationships in my life
that once i learned the magic of Compassion
i was locked in a simmering pot
how many times has this happened
feeling like i’m being treated like shit
but i completely understand
the strain they are under is just sparking off at me
and no matter how much pain they inadvertently cause me
communicating that to them will not help the situation at all
just make it worse
in giving them more stress
in their already over-blown situation

so here’s me
getting stomped on

so venting

but i’m tired of this now
distracted
why i never write anything anymore at the desk
how am i going to surpass that?
be in the present
experience just what is
what is what is
just want to be present to what’s happening
and enjoy it
eat it
drink it
nourish it with my being
and be nourished with it

ave i been so damaged by the computer i can no longer focus on anything longer than a few minutes?
how do i undo that?
where is the healing for that?

there are so many books i want to read
so many movies i’d like to watch
too many moments of shadows moving over a sunny field
too many ideas to flesh out. write. arrange.
too many moments of yoga and meditation and
presence
i need…

i need gratitude

hm.
i’ll get back to you on that one.

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so maybe I’ll go to bed
early for me

we had a few flickers this evening
after watching S01E04 of 6ft Under and the Chinpokomon episode of Southpark
Leo decided to go to sleep
half way down the stairs the lights flickered a few more times and went out…
for the night, I imagine

living in the city so long (…) I’ve forgotten the capricious nature of electricity in the county

what a grateful respite for an electricity addict like myself
(as I tap hungrily at this little screen… hours til it goes dark of course… but I won’t drink it dry tonight…)

I brushed my teeth by candle light
then went out on the deck
to gaze over the valley
everything still covered with snow
the clouds fast and thin now
the moon
reflecting the sun in its soft blue spectrum
reflected in the fluffy ice
on all the trees and all the ground

today is the first storm of winter
blew the tender clinging browning leaves from their branches

I’ve been cooking butter all day
and smoking St Bea’s Bread
making me more embodied in my emotions
bringing out my Kapha and Vata, ya
(with drawl for me flares my Pita)

today I’ve been here a Month
the moon is full again
today I have thought of all of my friends
wishing to be with them
doing yoga
smoking
talking
hiking around
massaging eachother
cooking for eachother
eating together
photographing
playing music
dancing

all of you
I love you
I am grateful
forgive my crazy judgements of all of us
and know I’m aiming at being the most amazing creature it is possible for me to be

…
ummm
someone left a comment about Stoneflies on my flickr
I looked it up today
mmmmm
Plecopetera
"braided wings"
commonly known as StonerFlies
they are very simple
primitive
often found in fossils
develop in water
one species is the only insect that lives it’s entire life in water
most just spend the majority of their lives as nymphs in water
four years or so
eventually maturing to adulthood
where they become terrestrial
… though they are famous for their wings
they aren’t very good fliers
and once they break the surface
as adults
they live only a few days to a couple of weeks

I have patience
it will all find its way in time
no need to rush it

good night

.iP

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when you’re born
the shock of arriving
is enough to throw many into a stupor
getting your bearings can take some time
for some
it’s a matter of learning the language they are born into
for others
it’s learning to pilot the body
to speak all the things one is already aware of knowing

but piloting the body isn’t as simple as just steering the tongue
sometimes it’s how to use the entire technology

let’s imagine you die right now
(what’s "die" mean?)
your consciousness is unchanged
you died in an instant
(mmm, car crash? heart attack? aneurism…? or did you just close your eyes and slip out of your life)
you open you’re eyes and you’re
hanging up-side-down
covered in blood
gasping for air

unless you remember how to pilot a baby
(from when you were a baby… remember?)

even if you remembered English after switching brains
(op, gotta even install the operating system… as best as you can remember it… and how compatible it is with your new hardware…)
how long would it take to train your tongue to make those shapes?
build the muscles up to make complete sentences…

but even if your remember English
and all that
you’re born in south America
do you think by the time you understood the language and learned to speak it
while learning how to pilot a new body and strengthen it to a useable vessel
would you, by then, remember who you are?
you’d have changed by then anyway
and it would probably take plenty of time before you were able to look at yourself in that other life and how it integrates and harmonizes with what you’ve done in this one
or what you’re doing
if you’re able to reach back in the present tense

in the dark surrounded by fluid

.iP

if women are indeed interested in LTR monogamy
which I would apply to Bottom queers as well
the receivers
the dedicated receivers
with huge fear bases in raising/caring for the offspring or suffering through the diseases

they present to the men who want to fuck them
they need commitment before they give up their snatch
of course they want it
so they’re willing to be convinced
even by bad actors

acting and lying are similar feats
in both you have to convince yourself of your character to be believed by your audience
the trouble with lying is it is socially shamed
which means it’s usually hidden
often even from the liar
where an actor is lauded for putting on his mask
a much clearer distinction
it is easier to take it off
for a man wanting to impress his mate
he perceives her motivation and internalizes it to made his declaration believable
often losing the understanding that led to his actions in the necessary obfuscation
leads him to a life of agony
Desiring The One
while driven by his nature to pleasure and disseminate himself with the many

.iP

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I do enjoy being the crazy guy
such an easy card to pull
entertainment for everybody
and non-stick movement through the normals

well, maybe I can achieve that when I’m under cover
agent
on to the next great feat of life
(I’m on my way)

.iP

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this morning I woke and checked Scruff
started chatting with a handsome fellow
who was driving up the 5 from the bay

he met Leo and I for breakfast
and Leo sent me on with him
to Stewart Springs
up here in the north

that’s a picture of Mt Shasta from the town of Weed

and now we are continuing north

Surprise: Adventure still happens

.iP

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a weird thing about the California I know
everything dies in summer
Autumn is a sort of Spring here
Winter is when everything is alive…

.iP

he arrived at the party long after the revelry had ended
the fun was done
the stars had all gone home
he wore fashions that would have better suited him a decade or two ago
sober, finally, but tired
still
he was ready to play his part
now moot, of course
only the unsatisfyable were still there
drunk beyond comprehension
or too apathetic to leave
and those with no where they intended to go
he did his best to look fresh
just as they’d expected him
but they’d all moved on
and his only role would have been contextual
his role was past
some candles were still lit
though
some scraps of the fine dinner still lay around
half eaten
on the finest plates
he washed it down with the dregs of drinks
fine wines and scotches
and the spit of people laughing and enjoying themselves
talking about everything
only a few wondered where he was
but enjoyed the show anyway
he tasted that too
all a muddle
he sat next to the dying embers in the mantle
and watched the dawn break

.iP

What am I doing with him?

all these icons an idols

his reality
I don’t understand
but it has form
mine goes on infinitely in any direction
even though I view his as King of the Knockoffs… it has form

but what was he thinking?
what can any of you be thinking?

Jesus walked amongst the Nazerites and they dismissed him a Glutton and a Drunkard
he appealed to them, saying, “You dismissed John(the Baptist) even though he came to you fasting… you criticize too much and hear nothing”

but to eat meat at every meal
and not think of each of the lives he was complicit in taking
to have the rest of his teeth pulled on his fourtieth birthday to not have to worry about them anymore
“when I finally replaced my temporary set they were mostly made of crazy glue”
I never knew

but he can’t bend his legs to clean the floor
born with shitty teeth and knees and feet?
five years of constant psoriasis!
twenty years of slow-growing cancer…

wouldn’t you try to stay young?
or did it slip away without you noticing?
too far in the distance to even think of reclaiming it by the time you noticed it
gone…

‘ i just want to be young til I die! ‘
I said
“you’d better die young, then”
he mumbled as he wandered into his room

his legs are sore tonight
‘ what part? ‘
“my knees… and ankles, and the part between my knees and ankles.. and my hips… and the part between my hips and knees…”
‘ did you do your yoga today? ‘
“oh yeah, of course. I had it on my oatmeal this morning. finished it up. bought a new gallon tub of it at the grocery outlet today”
‘ and is that shot just dead congealed milk with fruit pectin in it? ‘
“oh no. it’s all natural. it says right on the side it’s got all that crap in it. says FILLED WITH ALL THE CRAP… modified food starch and gum agar…”
‘ guar? ‘
“no, I wouldn’t buy that shit… it list all the germs it has in it. the good crap. active…”

I sat back and looked at the candles above his bed
the wooden cross
silver INRI
silver sad dead man on it
then an icon
some saint
across: a little doll in a dress: baby Jesus
in the other corner
virgin Mary
and opposite her
some other icon

‘ what am I doing with you? ‘
as I fondled his dick with my toes
unable to suck it for years now with out getting sick
terrible throat infection with a fever for days
stopped trying two years ago. swore it off.
but it was stiffening and I was tempted
I kissed it
and drew back quickly
it tastes, smells and feels like the greasy rind of some german cheese

how do you get that old?
so neglectful of your body?
your house?
your temple?
worshiping some old dead man?

Jesus tried to save everyone’s life
Daddy-God knew about wiping out entire populations
he did it all the time
maybe I’m Jewish.. I agree more with God… though I appreciate the compassion Jesus introduced… I’m not sure it’s served us well…
oh, I like my iPhone and stuff, thanks for progress, but I’m a little nervous of the weeds in our garden, the untrimmed paths and orchards unpruned

we were talking about the man I’d met at the springs last week
another Daniel

“I used to know what that name meant..”
he said
“the -el referring to something of the Lord..”
like Israel.. the name given to Jacob after wrestling with the angel all night… who was just a stand in for God. yeah… the -el is specifically about God
Israel is One Who Struggles With God.
Ah. That explains a lot.
I wrestle with angels all the time…
what about the other Angels?
oh yes
Michael: Who is the one like God?
Gabriel: The Power… or Strength of God
Raphael: The Healing of God
yeah… what about Uriel?
oh, he was a bit part. not even mentioned in the new testament and barely in the old… no one knows anything about him… the idea of ArchAngels is pretty new anyhow, just to create synergy with the four Evangelists…
and the four horsemen and the four elements and the..,
yeah

so I looked it up
Daniel
ORIGIN: proper name, Hebrew, lit. “God is my judge;” related to Dan, lit. “he who judges,” the tribe descended from Jacob’s son of that name in O.T.

my dictionary doesn’t have Uriel though
I kissed him good might and went to wash my face off

how can I Judge him?
little Lion
lives how he damn well wants to
how can I judge you?

I can’t.
I can brush my teeth and try to keep them healthy
use a mouthwash a russian lady taught mr to make… mixed with something I bought
I can do yoga
take deep breaths
fast periodically
get enough sleep
or not
eat organic
or not
reduce, reuse, recycle

I can learn how to love and be loved
not die alone

I can…

I can read to him from Edmund White’s books
we can talk about the past
and the things we’d like to remember
for other people to remember
and avoid the shadows of death and sufferings
with another sip of wine

i don’t know what I’m doing here
I don’t know anything

there: by the grace of god
or gods
or will
or whim
I am

.iP

I was in an amalgam of NYC/Europe/hermitage, CA

I’d been working with a sexy daddy bear
played by Maurice
doing healing work on him
there was all this talk about what an amazing healer I was

working with Jackie
but the folks at Blue Lotus were more like a gigantic cult
a new-age movement
there were many
all the workers and all the clients
all sick injured people
we were having a gathering upstate
I didn’t think I’d be able to go
or didn’t want to
I was busy with healing Maurice or something
but on the day before it started I decided to go

I took the train upstate
beautiful old ruins in a roman aquifer
old hot springs, baths

it was a party
hundreds of people
lots of colorful food
most of it packaged crap
tons of it
it was sunny
technicolor
Jackie was kinda the leader
we were all exhausted from eating
and bathing
in the minerally bubbly water
in the multi-coloured sun
laying around in a puppy pile
(all sorts of references to billy gatherings and heartwood as well)

so we’re laying around
and every one is talking about some big ritual that’s going to happen
and there are big announcements
and it becomes clear we’re going to restage the crucifixion of Jesus
they’re even talking of the men who are going to play the thieves
and one they have to pull down to make space for
me
of course
I’m going to play Jesus
I’m listening with lack of comprehension
I have to carry the cross up the hill
with some strange contraption
they’re talking about the nails they will use and how and who will hammer them in
and the tomb they will bury me in
and I lose it
I jump up and start screaming
pig will not
“No! I! Will! NOT!”
knocking shot over
running around yelling
my long white robes flailing
“Jesus knew for days before hand! he got to appeal to his father in the garden! what’s a crucifixion without The Last Supper!? Where are my Apostles!?! This is Insane! I will not die for you! It won’t heal you and I won’t be back in three days time! I might want release from this life and the feeling if doing something good but this shoddy reproduction would be a waste!”
and on
they sit around patiently waiting for me to come around
they have hungry looks on their faces
hoping the release of my life force will heal off of them
they look desperate
more sad than angry
whispered words of disappointment
” all our planning for nought… he won’t play our messiah tonight… we must continue to suffer and die because he isn’t willing to sacrifice himself for us…”
I walk by the tables of candied fruit.. little debbie’s and candy corn
fuck this shit
(but with a terrifying twinge of guilt)
I didn’t sign up for this shit
I’d decided to come up at the last moment as a lark
how could they’d think I would die for them?
where do
I catch the train back into the city?

I did
somehow
then I was with Leo
driving through the countryside
ramshackle elegance
going to a shop of the finest local handmade food
carved intricate boxes
selling for hundreds of dollars each
one contained a single bouillon cube
I blew on it and a cloud of smoke like dry ice peeled off it
the other, same size box, was being sold as a fontina cheese
but the box was very complex and unfolded into an entire rustic kitchen set
corkscrew and pepper mill, long knives, cabinets

we sat down to eat
an odd shaped corner
window looking out over the farm fields
all rustic barn wood
I was self conscious
with the waiter and sales person there
I kept accidentally referring to Leo as “Dad”
blushing about it
and wondering why I was doing it
and very unnerved about something…

.iP

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a man once told me
"when taking the orient express
do not be tempted by First Class
it’s just as crowded
and the wooden benches in Standard are a bit uncomfortable
but nothing compared to the lice and bedbugs you’ll get from the comfy cloth seats in First Class."

that’s one of the differences between east and west coast
comfy and diseased
instead of rough and crowded

ewwww.
Where’s my A train!?!
" I wanna go home! "
(sing the beach boys song in your head)

.iP