“i think it’s dry”
he said
rubbing his eye
flaky with sleep
“you’ve got to cry more”
i said
“to wash your eyes
from all that you see in the world”
he laughed.
often
people’s aspirations aren’t evenly matched with their apptitudes
that doesn’t keep them from achieving
.iP
”
the saddest part
of a broken heart
isn’t the ending
so much as the start
”
– Feist
saying the name of a dæmon
proves that it exists as something that isn’t you
unless that name is the same name as yours
no one truely forgets their name…
but what of orphans?
their true names often occluded…
and those who trick themselves into believing with court of law
it is often believed control can be attained with posession of one’s true name
ah, more so if you make the other forget it and give him another
maybe some dæmon has
have
always there
driving every move
clearly visible
in the blind-spot of the self
(written three days ago)
the moon is reflected light
reflected from inside me
some distant star
so far away as to be unreachable
yet always there
and I seem to know
what it would feel like
to be the moon
staring down at me
being me
feeling myself watched
by me as the moon
which is only visible
by the light that shines from within me
that come from unsayable distances
most everything true
and important
is unsayable
I want to give myself overvto the moon
to let that self have all my self
arbitrarily
anything could be the one source
bur death creeps in to quickly then
and we musnt let that
life only happens with the tension of separation
to feel the pull
the yearning
to receive the gift
and to give abundantly
to drink of it
and nourish
to say the name of the posessor
that Wichita make anything
alive
to spit it out
cancels the posession
leaves one free
and empty
for another hand
mortmain
to move us
ten thousand years in waiting
ten million
the light of the sun
someone else’s forgotten smile upon the earth
the plants
the animals
the weathers
long gone out
pressed down through time
under countless layers
of other days
stories
dreams
wakings and forgettings
into impenetrable darkness
which has been dredged up
pressed through taps
set aflame
consumed and transformed
to animate the lights upon your face now
that makes these pixels dance
reflects off this page
from a lamp in a room
up into your eyes
reminding you of endless things
you’ll always ever been
.iP
a guy i know sent me this today:
Happy Celtic Memorial Day, today we honor those who died this year,
whose spirits walk the earth one last night with Hecate before the new
year begins, before their spirits go to Somerset to be protected by the
dark father; Cennunos, till Selene, goddess of change bears them into
the arms of the mother goddess; Diana
and you might get some candy too, although there are other treats and
Celts found sex an appropriate manner of honoring goddess(es) and/or
god(s)..
—
i replied:
yeah, but the celts didn’t use this arbitrary calendar
i don’t really know if they used astrology
but they used season
and the day of Samhain is the mid-day between the equinox and solstice
which would be 15º Scorpio
which would actually be NEXT sunday
so if you’re doing a ritual for yourself
know that the magic is THEN
the magic is always
the magic is whenever
and even though it can be bought from hallmark and wallmart
it’s better when it comes from the imagination and the heart.
—
he replied:
The Celts, who lived 2,000 years ago in the area that is now Ireland, the United Kingdom, and northern France, celebrated their new year on November 1. This day marked the end of summer and the harvest and the beginning of the dark, cold winter, a time of year that was often associated with human death. The term “Samhain” derives from the name of the month in the ancient Celtic calender, in particular the first three nights of this month (November), with the festival marking the end of the summer season and the end of the harvest.
Celts believed that on the night before the new year, the boundary between the worlds of the living and the dead became blurred. On the night of October 31, they celebrated Samhain, when it was believed that the ghosts of the dead returned to earth.
Samhain was also called the Féile Moingfhinne – ie “Festival of Mongfind”. According to Cormac’s Glossary, Mongfind (mod.Irish spelling Mongfhionn) was a goddess the pagan Irish worshipped on Samhain.
Old Irish samain “summer’s end”, from sam “summer” and fuin “end”) Oct 31st-Nov 1st, the Celtic festival of the start of winter and of the new year. Samhain and an t-Samhain are also the Irish and Scottish Gaelic names of Novemeber respectively.
Although, in the 1600s, 10 days were added so the day following September 3 became September 14.
Therefore calendars might be considered to be 10 off. Does this make November 1 actually 10 days earlier or 10 days later?
—
i replied:
yeah,
their months were based on moons
so it varied every year anyway…
the oghams were half-months
though I don’t this this calendar in question was oghamic…
and..
the celts were from far more areas than those listed…
we are as we are now
hurrah to all of it!
—-
so now you know.
I dunno
we noticed old men
every day
in Ireland
was it from working in a factory?
ate there factories there?
fishing? farming?
some common accident befalling them all
or just the wear of toil…
my first thought was Football. Rugby.
violent physical men
out for a game
having fun
til someone gets hurt
and only those that haven’t yet get to continue
but I dunno
I keep seeing it here now in new york too
so many more people
and not just men here
more women…
is it from falling down the stairs?
being beaten?
gang fights?
from the endless walking, schlepping this city demands, offers?
being overweight?
downtrodden?
oh I’m noticing mostly brown people here
and in Ireland we’re all poor now
whatever that means now a days
comparitively…
but the day to day can always be a struggle
for me
to witness it
it’s painful just to see
everywhere
dragging a leg behind
hip swinging it over
or a flinch with each step
living in constant pain
seeing pictures of the tenements and child labor factories of new york only 100 years ago
almost forgotten by the benificiaries
until someone invented the flash pan
and all the pictures got published
but our generations of bloggers
are they telling the story online of how we all ended up limping?
am I just missing it?
or do mat of us censor our own wounds when they aren’t glamourous because we believe we can never do anything about them?
.iP
the wheel of medicine must keep turning
one proud hand forcing it forward
to heal the sick
slacken the suffering
but the wheel, now
is so slowed
by the strong hand of comerce
that holds it back
to collect every drop of blood it can feed off
squeezed from the flesh caught in the mill
.iP
a guy i know through the internet posted something on my facebook wall saying:
“to someone who seems to live life to the fullest – what happens when one does not know what his “Passion in life is”? – just looking for some wise thoughts from one who seems to know what passion is”
i responded saying this:
Dan, thank you for asking. Thank you for your perception. It is not, of course entirely true, but…
the short story is “passion” is what we lay back into. it’s most common usage is that of the story of Jesus. the “passion” of christ is his knowing and accepting he has to die for the whole of humanity and not only letting it happen but working with it.
Many people lose their Passion by Trying Too Hard.
I have learned mine… Am Learning Mine…
by ease. by flowing with. by listening and following.
attempting, struggling, giving, pushing, DOING… then falling back into flow and following, listening, flowing with. being easy.
it has to be a balance.
Ego wants one thing, the entire world wants something. some times they clash.
You’re still alive: so you’re not done… but sometimes the best way to learn what you should be doing is to dis-engage from what you Always Do and notice what of that is necessary to you, and find ways to start doing the things you always know you should be doing but never give yourself the space for.
once you click into it… you’ll know it and do it.
to doubt it is normal
to have faith in it is blissful.
far enough isn’t far enough
the sky has too much haze
I remember nights in California
new Mexico
canadians:
can you see the stars?
i like the city
the street lights
but I want to see the stars talking to eachother again
winking at me
all with a velvet cape on
North
the idea of North
I really need to head Out
.iP
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