Thursday, April 30, 2009

Dad’s Home

It’s funny, but until I write this, it’s not true.
Kabir said something about this, in a different way.
Welcoming the father into the sun’s house
Good fortune, family continues.

What is this stone, once a mountain,
Now a mere enigma on my doorstep
Moving closer, around the shrines
I invoke my father’s return to home,

Here. Now, Forever more,
Until all words and languages
Are forgotten and obliterated
In the silver light of silence

He will then speak again
Like the risisng sun
Today across another world
Where things are just a little better

In that small town in Iowa
Laying in the corn
Little Billy, Does
Get his Daddy back

And everything
Everything,
Is
O.K.

Monday, April 27, 2009

William Appleman Williams's Ancestralization

I started to appreciate that night, during the vigil

Meeting the people he inspired, getting inspired.

Beyond the measure of either grace or rhetoric.

Simply what dad would call a gift, a joy !

I see a bit more clearly, my history and the course

Life in America is shaped, rather than forced.

Ends are beyond our means, we are part of the flow

That we sail in and we are blessed when we recognize our crew.

Can’t say that there is a Captain, among this Anarchist lot

We sail through the storm together, and share the bounty too.

We have Historians and bards, and ancestors among us too

We are in good company all,

In all and in part because of you.

Shamed of me & the USA

I grew up ashamed, it didn’t help that I was smart

I said mean things about our country &

I knew people hated me, and they knew why

Truth is Evil if used without love,

I wanted to have friends,

What I was: Alone



Sometime we don’t know, that our focus is outside,

That what we hate is merely an aspect of what’s inside

And so an opportunity for grace Is waiting on its knees

I’ll be no harsher when I’m judging my country

We tend to take everything so seriously,



Criticizing my Country, the good old USA

Is my most Patriotic act, in grace it is received,

Born with these eyes, no wonder I lost one.

Still burning bright, I love what appears to bring me joy.

Still what hurts causes scars in both

And we carry them too this day

I wonder why reflection is so difficult

Or is it the change that is denied?

No matter that the money flows

Our new cars on the way

Cruising straight to hell

For sure we know the way.

Is it radical or conservative to say

Our consuming is eating the earth alive.

America has led us here.

As my actions every day.

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

The Tribe of Grief

A mask for the beloved to wear.
I know that while it cries,
for a period it stops: and so, stills my breath,
Alert, fresh,
this is,
what i don't see.
Collapsing, again: who am i crying for?

Emotion's flow as globally as the economy
as what we love one day we may later hate in private.
The public imposed upon the "personal",
any non-collective public grief lies unexpressed, Insane, Feared
Shunned & marginalized. Still more inappropriate if confused
or mixed, mired and fermented in joy.

People, children, babies, chickens and pigs, Millions every day
making room for ever more, let's not even talk about cows,
gmo corn and spongeiform human brains, we may all be dead
long before the prions get our non veg kids.

Amidst this perfect moment,
pain, and pleasure
both dearly held sleep
adrift in Nyx's arms
You are the lovers of desire.


Only in desperation salvation
ever surrendered.
the angels appearance.
pagan in the sun.

Sunday, April 19, 2009

Torture ~ the human conditioning

This is just a personal piece, to put in an awfully general, moral distant perspective. It’s as if I see, that there are aspects of life, which, we don’t talk about much but still occupy allot of space in our heads, lives and society.

Let’s stop and re-construct the discussion in terms of Violence as a Genre, and Rape, Sexual molestation, Torture, Beatings, Verbal violence, Intimidation by any group or individual, as parts or distinct. Some people break it into physical, sexual, verbal, energetic, and economic. For me it’s all part of the human experience, and the world.

So it’s a deep subject, and one that benefits from a personal, introspective as well as external examination. When judging other’s I suggest we start making statements about our own culpability in action first. This acknowledges the humanity of violence and its inescapability when unseen, recognized or honestly felt. I firmly believe we are strengthened in our capacity for honesty when we own our own mistakes and violence, No matter where we act it out whether in secret ourselves, our bodies, and our souls. Violence toward others or the generally condemned and criminal expressions; toward our environment, our pets, and finally our children, siblings and parents.

So, for starters, I do it all the time to too myself. I think that while it’s not ok, it’s not criminally offensive. It is annoying as hell to all the people who may choose to be around me. Some people just simply immediately opt out. Good for them, others, well, they either understand, don’t notice (not as bad as what they do), or simply could care less.

For me, the roots of Violence and Torture are at home, within us, our childhood nightmares, small animals and our familial relations and experiences. I think we discover Violence early as a part of life and then try to live with it however we can. Whether in denial about it, or objectifying it and localizing it in others or externalizing it in road rage, bar brawls, arguments with those we love, or most terrifying and intimate: enjoy it.

So to have a world wide discussion on the subject with the Bush administrations & The CIA being the Latest version of the Nazis, let us remember that we are all in this together, none of us has clean hands, and the best we can hope for is to stop it.

That’s all. Just stop it. Whether within ourselves, or with each other, I would first and foremost suggest we stop doing it. Then let’s see if we cannot find some space to talk without continuing it.

Saturday, April 18, 2009

A comment on Sovereignty & Empire

"Our" American Imperialism has deep roots, running far back, beneath Wilson "making the world “safe” for democracy" long before any speechwriters scripted Reagan or Bush Sr. stumping for freedom or democracy. American will was flat fiat. No president, on either side of the aisle has shifted or questioned the course of U.S. foreign policy to impose our markets and their owners will. We are finally beginning to see the cost of such policies.

The largely muted and consistently oppressed dialogue about, or examination of, the costs of empire has been facilitated by the tsunami of mindless media advertising cheap consumer goods.

What dialogue that has made it out into the market place of ideas and concern is focused on species, as well as “collateral” populations of non consuming human and non human portions of the biosphere. However I suggest, that in such a purely “subjective focus” we miss the opportunity or ability to address the market functions and economic imperatives that drive the cannibalistic consumption of the planet. I mention Biosphere here to remind us that a hungry human or animal will kill to feed his child, and that in our greed and lust for “democracy” we have impoverished not only ourselves, but the world.

I suggest that we recall that is our Ancestors (bless them) in their blithe hubris of self sufficiency and isolationism we slept through the watch and facilitated the deconstruction of what was, (so I hear) at one time, a decent rhetorically challenging, and affordable, national educational system the envy of the world.

It's non efficient replacement produces a citizen consumer ill fitted to sleep well in a market driven system filled with demonically possessed market architects at the helm of capitalist empires such as Monsanto, Blackwater, Halliburton, Texaco, pharmacy, and the merger between big agricultural and genetic market investors.

This corporate kleptocracy in turn funds, controls, and formulates our dialogue of our so called political system. Only when we successfully engage the body politic holistically will we succeed in shifting our collective and individual prioritizes towards actions that create beauty and meaning rather than consuming it.

Our Collective inability to engage “the right” merely exposes us for poorly educated elite without the capacity for imagination and inspiration to engage in both rigorous rhetorical and compassionate thinking. Which first and foremost is best applied to own little souls. The lack of educational ritual, rigor and maturation has created a society of narcissistic addicts bent on self destruction. This mistake has dam near doomed the world.

The lucky and the self entitled Bourgeois collectively fuck the world. As Leonard Cohen calmly states in “Everybody knows” Blindly and compulsively we replicate and consume our way through life in an attempt to avoid the unconscious fact at the root of our (mostly)white privileged, sex obsessed souls that we know there is another way.

America is a continent and hemisphere, as well as a media icon. Another truth is it is a land onto itself, with its own imperiled aboriginal, flora, fauna and tribes.

We are survivors. Call it humanity or Darwinism, Luck or “god’s will” or evil or simply what appears in awareness. The weak, the poor, the different, the stranger, often, mostly die. I know Jared Diamond might argue.

We non aboriginals have diverse gods and ancestors. We are refugees, slaves, and invaders. Some are like my family; members of the first wave of refugees and invaders. Some are more recent. Their choices are few and elusively subtle, yet with profound consequence.

One of these is the chance or opportunity to recognize and most importantly, remember our innate humanity and love. From that choice we live in either heaven or hell. The global “Clampdown” is simply to present and too serious to play games any longer about the world or our roles in it.

Refugees and criminals are defined by economic resources, timing, witnesses and chance. It is our responsibility to remember, to viscerally re-call the spirits of this land, our ancestors, and the land’s of our families birth. Through this collective re-tempering we may actually begin to meaningfully relate with each other and our colective dilema of how to live together on /with our mother-father planet spaceship.

I suspect “that everybody knows” we are far more intuitive or “savage” than we care to admit. Regardless if our efforts are beyond the "tipping point" we still have the ability and vision to offer our children a good and peaceful death, owning our part, and our complete lack of intention to suffer. This is a bright lining on a dark cloud. There is no reason not to celebrate what we have, the challenge is to share what is good and make space for each other, whether flora, fauna or enemy.

Is this moment an opportunity for a change in the consciousness of the American public? Are we desperate enough in our withdrawal from consumerism to have the fundamental realization of all recovering addicts, that untreated addiction destroys societies, worlds and lives.

It matters not if its power or crack, the ends are the same and yes, the solution is both internal and external, both within our bodies, families, and communities, but also in our immigration, employment, education and environmental and economic priorities. The fundamental failure of the “Left” is it's entrapment in dualism. when we can bow to the hawk within, we will risk the possibility of compromise as well as compassion. We cannot find unity without, if we do not free ourselves and our dialogues of shame, blame and guilt.

While it is an effective story to release adrenaline and stress hormones, our collective or personal focus on past or present human sacrifices, to our gods of national defense and fear, or too loose ourselves and grieve the dead. We repeat the trauma and remain a nation lost in narcissism and personally and collectively isolated.

It may be through the opportunity of the current global environmental economic moral crisis that we may seize this opportunity to evolve as a species dependent upon the bio-sphere we have poisoned in the name of secular profits.

Collectively we have the resources of imagination and implementation to make a quantum jump both as individuals and begin to husband the planet. Perhaps we have looked down in confusion, pain and anger. It may prove more humane to raise our gaze and our hearts to the heavens and make this day and this world all it may me. There is in simple honesty, an opportunity to unite, move forward and focus on life and it's inherent beauty in each and every moment. Yet there is hope that such a small shift may be the missing catalyst for our collective salvation.


More to come later, thanks for reading.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Leonard

I'm an old Cohen fan, back from my teenage years in San Francisco punk scene. So I imagined that after 30 years of listening to my favorite bards voice I knew something shared, unique in all of us. I wanted to go to the show, but had no tickets and just put a prayer out on Craig's List. To my surprise i found myself answering the phone at 7.30 pm, a woman on the phone asking me if i had a printer, and saying i should get dressed.

An hour later, across the bay in Oakland's Paramount theater, I found myself together with the friend. Persians would call it "Sobet" "divine conversation" pure fields of musical nectar, enhanced joy of life, spontaneous, pouring through the "cracks in everything" where the light gets in.

Seats at gods feet, i cannot speak except with the sweet tears of loves fulfilled desire. All my life i have been like a blind man slowly finding my own way, hurt by help of others way. With the three thousand souls together we shared some truth, recognizing hearts know the way. This man is a living icon of all that is good and beautiful in life, nature, the world and the masculine soul.

And funny, humble and playful, skipping off the stage and pretending to go, And seeming to play a Kafka~esque riff on Sinatra. He appeared as a hip~post apocalyptic Archetype in the flesh. Masquerading as classical folk rock global poetic treasure. A genre transcending art that both contrasts and unites disparate experience of wealth, class and self esteem in the cauldron of the human heart. Where our struggles for power, meaning and control are ultimately passionately analyzed and surrendered upon the the mercy of love. And the letting go of even that, in love.

Monday, April 6, 2009

too familiar

Philosophy can start out comfortable, so abstract, know what i mean?

Then in some late night, early some morning, samadhi fuled meditation, it actually start sliding into and out of some rather altered experience of conciousness.

A mad comuters early morning anxity attack smorgasbnoard?!

I would have a moment of dream awareness, perhaps identifying a gender, or a body type, some focus of attention, maybee a emotion. a felt sense of life embdied but not "mine"

Then it would begin to shift, i would remember "myself" and experience vertigo or nausea a shifting sence of awareness and personal karma

Then a personal referance point would fade or evaporate demanding an imediate sureender to what is joy if not fought, it it is resisted, it is freak the fuck out scarry!, riding the tusnami !

maybe another experience, a dream vinyet of body, calm breathing a clear pchysic exchange of some sort, yet i am riding the edges of Trama again. . . it can get to much really quick!

But also exhilarating and almost extinction. if that's excitement, i don't need it. Yet it's not for excitement, it's experiencing, and a letting go or allowing in, of other experiences, ones that are waiting to share if we allow much wonder in to our dreams, our awakenings.

Thursday, April 2, 2009

Healthcare & Warfare

They are a pair, like husband and wife, an allegory made ironic by it's accuracy and lack of funding. Its an unexploited argument in soundbite time; media cannot repress. Imagination is revolution Lennon taught us that. Lydon gave us anger Strummer epitomized self control.

So back to my refrain: Dark and Light, Love and Hate, Separation and Unity, the list go's on. Living on the edges~surender~enjoy. The love we all share, no matter how obscure'd are shared by a "critical mass" like pshye fission, it's our only choice: we either evole or we die, and of course it's allways the two.

Enough of us have all grown weary of the monatary junk, weary of our next desire, we shudder to even tru it. no matter where we run, the rest of the world is going straight to hell. We have brought it upon ourselves, The sins of our fathers, seven generations told: were still paying off the civil war. . .

If it's all karma, and we'll pay every second as we go. We come in with lot's of credit - or none of that's "how it goes". Not abstract or interesting when afluant dreamers wish to die in some winter dreams. I say dance your sister to the freedom, that has allways been here, we know it's only music that's playing in our ear.

Take a deap breath ad breathe into this pose. Every perspective is like a child, manipulating it's patents in to defending regardless of the cost. I imagine a mature recognition, that releases sahme and guilt - control. none of us is inocent, none are guilty if truth is honestly known. All that happens is a fragment of ourselves, the deeper we deny it, more the evil sold.

The dynamic of conflict is rooted in our souls, it aches in the morning as soon as we awake, as we age we feel it's cost in our bones.