entreaty #2 – the strength to be completely undefended

human being, beautiful human being

they way things are is the way they is

it’s time to see this with our own eyes

not through hi def haze

time to be things in our own times

not through pre set phase

time to breathe deep in the rhythms of peace

before we swim through waves of grief

crashing down flooded city streets

 

the strength to be completely undefended

the strength to let it come

the strength to feel the way it truly feels

the strength to let it go

that’s where our minds breathe thoughts like thought lungs

where our hearts drum the strongest beat in the rhythms of peace

 

every day we climb up and slouch on the thrones built up in our heads

our eyeballs swiveling back and forth across flashing screens

as we trip on simulacrum smack downs

avatars of ego start marching down our streets

like dead heads under helmets of delusion

high on the shards of shattered hearts

yeah it’s time to put it down

human being, beautiful human being

they way things are is the way they is

 

the strength to be completely undefended

the strength to let          come

the strength to feel          the way          truly feels

the strength to let         go

that’s where our minds breathe thoughts like thought lungs

where our hearts drum the strongest beat in the rhythms of peace

side effects while using the creative process include strong, tumbling, and / or conflicting emotions

colors and forms and letters and sounds and sensations and emotions

just are

as the urge to create grabs them and tears them and chews them and mashes them and expresses

now do this go make this move bust this loose this feeling this love thinking this works shaking this up making this happen now go go go

as a vision of a notion of some kind of a painting of some words in the form of a sculpture of a body dancing to the music of the feelings of this life

gets up and jumps from our dream to stand naked before us and the audience

as ego avatar steps in and makes everything personal and pleads and cries and demands

i know i’m not good enough, i’m afraid you don’t like me, give me your money, give me attention, i need you to love me

as buddha wisdom calmly breathes in and out to become completely undefended

it is like this

artists, keep em coming

artist

your power is

telling the story

of the demise of happy empires and sexy lovers

or the birth of legend the birth of love

the feelings all of us didn’t know we could feel

while your characters and subjects

your heroes and your lovers

your dancers destroyers makers

were so down in it they could not feel

the lessons being learned

the fates being followed

as they happened

 

artist

this is power

like some massive all powerful stomach

churning and mixing

making connections between the things no one sees

providing the only nutrition

that is truly human

to all of us humans

the ability to feel what others feel

like some kind of optical instrument

that is both microscope and telescope on demand

providing the only vision

that is truly a sight worth seeing

the ability to understand

no one’s talking, it’s all moshing

CMweQjgeQ+mmOUY6IMV3Lg

how come

at the punk rock show

no one’s on their phone while the bands are thrashing

no one’s talking

it’s all moshing

how come

at the punk rock show

when dude’s glasses get tossed off

in the mosh

someone’s there to see them fall

and another one’s there to pick them up

off the floor, between stomping feet

and somehow, hand by hand

through the pit

they get returned right back to the man

how come

at the punk rock show

everyone knows everyone

different towns, different scene, it doesn’t matter

members of the first and second bands right up front

singing the lyrics of the final act

in unison

how come

at the punk rock show

the entire first song of the third band

has their mic vocals off

their wide open mouths moving, belting, screaming, singing

in total silence

til the sound tech finally makes it known to them

half way through

but the band just keeps playing

just shrugs their shoulders

points to the crowd

like do they care

which just moshes onward

carried along by the thundering hardcore

how come

at the punk rock show it’s like

no thanks man, i don’t need another drink

i just need one more song one more set

just need this frantic beautiful energy for one more life

just need the music in both ears

straight to the heart

some platitudes for a loner’s heart

platitudes for a loner’s heart sound like

styrofoam steak drizzled with meat juice colored water

hungry crunching and knowing i’ll be wanting soon

platitudes for a loner’s heart sound like

words that bark like signals and noise

my head perks like a dog’s ears when you speak your truth

until the games we play leave me confused

my scruff you rubbed the wrong way

platitudes for a loner’s heart sound like

i’m not allowed to be bored by this Modern Life Game but i am

every day

i just want to hold your hand can’t you see

but both of your hands are gripping your identity your job your race your face

and mine a story that’s not quite accurate

platitudes for a loner’s heart sound like

this Modern Life Game judging me

on the quantity of my happiness

not how sweetly and gratefully i felt the happiness i did feel

platitudes for a loner’s heart sound like

love closely modeled with the proprietary algorithm of an online dating site

meanwhile love just happens anyway

crazily, randomly, freaky, sparking, burning, without controls

how she made me feel with one fierce glance and the cutest smile

like i’m not some random man, not no dog any more

platitudes for a loner’s heart sound like

walking south down lyndale avenue

the mannequins and my store front reflections looking silently at me

and when i return north up the alley

the dogs in the backyards running along their fences barking at me

as if to say here’s some platitudes for your lonely heart

and we’ll be here too

sir, can you hear us? sir? sir? hello, can you hear us?

sir, this is the morning sun shining through the leaves of a deciduous forest on a summer morning. sir? are you with us? we need you to breathe. breathe sir. breathe. there. good. ok. sir, you’ve been involved in a trip, a bad trip. the trip is about how you think certain people are trying to harm you. but they aren’t. you’re tripping, it’s not what they are trying to do. stop tripping. breathe. you’re here, right now, in the forest. and all of us leaves are glowing green for you, and if you would just stop flipping out and knee jerking you’ll be able to calmly figure out what’s really going on. just as the sun makes us leaves glow that warm green color that you’re finally appreciating, yes, now you see us. there. uh oh. ma’am?

ma’am, hello? can you hear us ma’am? we are the morning glory flowers hanging off the telephone pole right outside your apartment, and we are the bumblebees in those morning glories that you barely notice on your way to and from work, that your daughter calls blazing purple stars with the fat bees. ma’am? stop. stop reaching for your phone. hello can you hear us? breathe. we need you to breathe. there. ok, good. you, ma’am, you were on a trip, a bad trip about something your boyfriend said to you last week, and you’ve been tripping on it all this time, and it’s caused you to lash out at your daughter and be angry, and ma’am, yes, it’s just a trip, because the reasons why he said it are not what you think and you’ve been wrong about it all week. so please, breathe ma’am. stop having the wrong idea. you’re here now. breathe. it’s ok. can you forgive him? we’ll be here too, blazing and buzzing for you and your daughter. dude?

dude. hey. can you hear us? hello? we are the two oak trees you pass under back and forth, to and fro, wherever you’re going, in your tesla model s p100d. we’re both 60 years old. who’s canopies tower over your newly designed and built mansion. we appreciate that your architect decided to spare us. dude, if you’ll listen for just one second, uh, yep you can stop with the texting. we are the living beings who’s oxygen flows into your bedroom’s open windows. that you breathe all night as you’re sleeping and when you get up to go on your 10 mile run at 5am. dude. hello, yes, you’re already a millionaire at age 26. yes, we are happy for your success. but, you’ve been on this trip. you bought hard into the whole man is an island thing, thinking that’s what makes you such a stud. but, that’s a delusion, a cognitive impairment on your part. you can stop tripping now. if you weren’t breathing our oxygen, how would you even be alive when the alarm goes off? how? you’re never completely independent of this earth, there is context for your words and actions. as in, we are the trees who help you to breathe and be alive. and did we mention the tiny organisms living in your gut? without whom you would be small and runty, possibly unhealthy? unable to run for 10 miles most mornings, all the while carrying on about how you’re all alone and nothing else matters? us trees, we’ll be here for you, doing our thing, turning your exhaled carbon dioxide into inhaled oxygen. oops, excuse us. admiral?

admiral? are you with us? there. ok. yes. we, we are the barnacles that just attached to the hull of your new flagship destroyer, which has been tied up dockside for months now. thank you for the smooth gray paradise, we’ll be here for you filtering the water so the clams in your clam chowder are healthy too. admiral, hello. hello? yes, breathe. breathe. have you heard the cherokee proverb about the boy who asked his grandfather which wolf would win in a fight between the good wolf and the bad wolf? and how the grandfather said “the wolf you feed”?

thought lung #1 – breathe again