Dancing 5/26/14

If heaven exists beyond the lingering touch of atoms

I imagine we are in connection with everyone and everything all at once beyond time

or we are in heaven now

Every face, memory, touch, kindness or split of knowledge is present

All at once we are listening

The pains, the wrongs, the regrets, the malice, the evil

Those who spawned our hatred are encapsulated in an encompassing forgiveness

Released beyond the tethers of human into the reverberating

Passage that is

Life may merely be the undulation of our awareness of this potential

In us, around, in others and exchanging in every atomic ballet

Between plant, mineral, animal, and plasma there is no message

There is no script but the dance

For that is what we are dancers playing roles dressed in empathy and cowardice

Waiting for the laughter between choosing love or fear

In the illusion of these bodies piloting cognitive tiers of fish, reptile and primate

For a time as others have before and others will after

We are waltzing to the atomic meter

Witnessing God in the force between the handshakes

Of the atom I was born with has somehow found its path

To pump the blood in your heart the day we met

In between so circuitous, yet there are no coincidences

Only dancing as our one 

In the Dream

In the dream

I did not simply get the anger out, release the beast

To progress

I found God again

Not a theist’s derivation, but the permission

To see that beyond comprehension here

Between you and me; in the boughs of marriage

I and God and you allowed

The relief from the anger is trumped

By the joy of the resonance

That I finally feel worthy of traveling

Through the stars with you

Names, definitions, scripture if you can see the goodness

We can be the ink to write our tales

Nothing but choice to the how in the entwined

Dream, baby dream

Faith

Halos and hearts  

This was never over 

Offering

I submit to our love; I submit to serve our love

In this I control only what I choose to do

Which is to attempt to make your life beautiful and

Witness your response

This is the charge of a lifetime

I am called from labyrinths from within my soul

To exit the mazes beneath and

Sit with you holding hands on the surface

Let us plant each other here

My water; your fruit

Together we shall nourish the other

Quiet me when I am rambling

I shall give you roost when the heavens startle

Pink vagabond;

Every corner of the labyrinth was a path to here

The shadows and the sweetness; the others and the pieces

But breadcrumbs and directions to be ready

To appreciate this moment

You and I offering the all 

The Bee and the Ovule

This is how a man feels when he loves a woman

He would do anything for her

To make her heart smile; to discover her desire

And then to become the vessel in which that desire flows to fruition

He is willing and as able as a flawed human can be

Hungry in the hours to be reciprocated

Through witnessing her bloom

He becomes her gardener

These are the measure of masculine exaltation

To provide, do, manifest in the other

He is lumber like the beams of the manger

She is the milk, the eggs, the seed of life

Birthing in the hours of man witnessing the miracle

In awe of her creation basking in that which is godlike

In her a part of him participates in the grand theater

Outside himself his cells and atoms join the ballet

In her softness he is manifest to be servant and shield

Builder and fiduciary of the estate so that she may have the soil

Fertilized and ready for her petals to unfurl

This pollination in his treasure, his godly deed

To know the cycle reverberates through the universe

In their adjoining, the bee and the ovule

Breathing love

Simple wishes

Better than country music

Give me a pop beat as long as she’s dancing with me

It’s all good

Simple, level the playing field of these stratosphere and nadir

Thoughts about the universal profits and costs

Being in the present

Letting go of the heavy and finding heaven

In the softness of a woman

Who simply wishes to be close and treated tenderly

You are my best friend

I have thought of you in my heart daily for years

You attached

Try as life might my idiocy cannot dislodge

That which is my burred faith

That there is so much of the universe I am ignorant

I do not need to know, except that you are part

Of the all pulling me towards the now

Away from the fallen timbers and maze runner jams

You are open air blanketing a field

Praying for me to join hands and run

I am a root for the steady

I am the boat and you are the oars

Together we are rowing these oceans

Stargazing, eye gazing, mesmerized

Crackle thunder hurricane swirls

Seen the mirrored strength to choose

The us, faith that you will come back to me

Wanting only what is best for you

Even if that is to see you sail away

Humble, endeared, present in my consciousness

Doing all a man can in these times

To bear the darkness before the sunrise

With a simple wish for our love

Our Tree

What did I do to water the plant today?

This bond is our most precious organism of mental intimacy

Requiring tending as any iris or canine

The water, the phosphate, the muscle tissue

The processes of time apply

The gorgeous tree of apple blossoms if left

Festers: rot, drought, wilt, or decay

So that the very sun which feeds its limbs

Without supplement for balancing thirst and hunger

Will die

So in I give to you these words

Our organism is more important to me than my ego

For our organism is half of me

For when I ignore or neglect our organism

I am suffering

Anger, condemnation, criticism, blame, threats,

Punishment, controlling are poison

Prioritizing the self over the unified one

The inevitable flaws of human frailty encourage one to grasp

For the deflection of pushing down the other to raise the self

For in our organism this drowns us both

Listening, support, encouragement, respect, trust

Acceptance, and always negotiating our disagreements

Are air, are life, are food

To leave the spear head in our abdomen like a stinger

Overnight in our bed is to allow the thief into our vault

Our sanctuary becomes shadowed in accuser and accused

The mutuality of lightness browns as our fruit awaits the buzzards

We create a foul fallow harvest in such exchanges

Let us breathe the thanksgiving of honest discourse into that which is greater than each

To be one 

Moving Boxes

Unpacked boxes are not being listened to or heard

The cardboard with the markers printed and crossed out

Lined through histories of what was in removed and repackaged

The board games and glassware fragile

Loaded and unloaded until the frailty is no longer prioritized

If it breaks this time so be it

The hurricanes of photograph albums to foreign states

For rental homes and asphalt quality time

Placement fees and hauling back and seeing another storage facility

The ramps of this vehicle and multi-trips of I am here as an intransigent

The impermanence is a footnote with initials like why sign a whole name

Pad lock keys on the ring for a location number in a hall of roll up doors

That appear exactly the same independent of the city but the same flotsam

Hibernates in a petri dish of bacterium behind the raise

In a sofa breeding microscopic itch pinchers in the fabric

So that when finally unpacked a man still cannot sit

The gasoline to have temporary stay in a father-in-law’s domain

Where every motion to relax is measured with who is watching

Because there are boxes here and there and not yet able to be sliced

With a razor blade across the tape without the expectation of reapplication

The step-to-it porch and out to the rental

Boomerang into another mortgage

Signed for nine U-Haul trucks in nine years

Like a crack dealer good riddance

She wonders why I cannot function with boxes in the living room

I sent her away and loaded the cardboard into her car

Regretting the tale for another man to help her move

Praying maybe I will get the boxes back

Shorelines

Before we met you showed me your name was a truncation

Was it not, you said, like the real needed changing

Now didn’t it? Callie, Marie, Alicia, Elizabeth

A string of words and endless list

Places and family never had

Fitting together into a faceless stab

Once you’re off, you’re off the list

Father, mother, sister, he

Never to speak and now it’s me

Shoved across a paper beach

The tide comes in and memories

Shift to the waters of cannot be

Names that exist in ration

Wounds wrapped in faith

That happiness is oxygen

Vacuumed like quicksand to return

Drowning in the recollections

Of being unchosen

The runaway towns, books, and mirrors

Skipping rocks on liquid woman

Settling is an anchor and an island

Infant arms and a man’s chest

Whispering a tepid tempo of nowhere left

To explore but here

Such a lovely shore

A Rant on Insecurity and the Universe

Insecurity is the number one ruining force in all relationships.  It provides the ultimate thinking labyrinth.  Insecurity leads one to knot hallways of illusion to form the infinity symbol inside the unconscious.  One wanders through swamp thick ordained ineptitude to intentionally sabotage one’s inability to fulfill desires.  The conscious wishes of virility, beauty, intelligence, esteem, strength, and understanding are dubbed unattainable due to the knot. 

Therein our failures score not under the ledger of our accountability, but to external forces to which we are by foundational limitation inept from overcoming.  Our insecurities cement the rationalization.  Our conscious and unconscious minds battle.  Each trades roles depending on our day’s disposition. 

In our weakness the unconscious purports the flawed lies of the excuse and our conscious berates our abilities.  Everyone has flaws.  The Earth is not athletes and models of Newtonian intelligence doing philanthropic work for legions of those in need while mastering the marketplace with empathetic familial hearts teaching progeny to better the species in genetic ballet.  Pinnacles are their own form of illusion.  So are desires.

What one seeks is often what one lacks, not what one is.  The ego may derail this fulfillment through hungering for a psychological doppelganger.  Human growth is stymied in such childish mirrors.  Children wish to be told they represent the ideal.  Adults pursue the honesty of a pruned plant.  Rain forests flourish in such trials.

We like the electromagnetic force pursue balance.  Insecurity derails our completeness by limiting the love we have to give by the love we feel we deserve.  Even the unattained does not represent that which we failed to be worthy.  The seed is in the doing, the attempt, not the result.  The act of doing shocks the system towards growth.  The flower is consequence not cause. 

When we assume the stasis of what we perceive ourselves to be is complete, we become a desert.  We sacrifice our balance for a one-sided mirage utopia.  The insecure mind sees divergent personality traits as superior competition.  The secure sees complements to foster mutual benefit.  The reaction to opposing forces in our sociological Olympiad is how we either grow or wallow inside a feckless stasis of self-endowed insecurity. 

The challenge is to engage in the sexual troughs of experimentation that exalt our libido to relieve conflict with the unconsciousness mind through mutually fed relationships.  We can devour the security of others in flawed demotion of the other for the temporary opiate of esteem.  This is common in beer and cosmetic commercials.  In contrast we can nourish each human through a trusting reciprocation that each is committed to better the other.

Like two lines resting in a triangular peek, these reciprocal objectives achieve a common strength.  Each trusts the other to remain.  Insecurity challenges this trust and in turn creates a game of chicken with our conflicting desires of egotistic known and unknown.  We seek both the pleasure of companionship and the security of absolute assurance. 

True love can never offer such absolutes.  Love requires the uncertainty to instil the validity of its worth.  Like God, if we knew what mirrored the Big Bang, a close for our opening for instance, the potential of a multiverse or a first cause or comprehension of a presence which connects us, the value in the trust and respect fostered through unknowing is more precious than the certitude of inscrutable evidence of either confirmation or refutation.

So in this balance of insecurity we see love, we see the universe, we see dare to dream purpose. 

Choice

The mind is a circle of three players

Doing, Thinking, and Feeling

Thinking is a labyrinth

A perpetual maze where perception

Shifts stimuli as either a door or wall

Dependent on the viewer

Feeling is a thermometer

A motionless gauge in which to register

Where one is relative to a base of normal

Chemically influenced by the only controllable variable

Doing breaks the system

Small actions achievable within the auspices of the individual

Fosters a seed germinating in accountability to the self

To jar one’s environmental status so that the other two may change

As much as one may desire happiness, purging depression

Or attempt to script or self analyze one’s self into harmony

Like a hand in the ocean or common magnetic polarity

Intention itself repulses definitive result

When the conscious and unconscious mind are in conflict

If one could deliver a valedictory to the ego and have the superego, id, and libido

Abide the mind would be abandoning its tiered structure

Of the frontal-cognitive, mid-emotive, and base-instinctual

We were primates, reptiles, fish, and floating microorganisms before we were humans

The genetic tree separates, but evolved on a common foundation of survival

To attempt to trump fight or flight with rational discourse is the dilemma of man

Floundering in our body’s attempt to return to the comfort of the worn road

We may battle in our dreams by letting go and have our mind conquer

Who we told ourselves we are with who we wish to be

Or

We can instill the cog of genetic life in an action of doing

To replicate in novel message to disrupt the system we know

So that in each repetition the plasticity of our brain

Remaps the highways of function

We uncover freedom by direct volition to do

This spawns the indirect circular counterbalance

Of a change in thought and feeling

Our thermometer recalibrates

The boiling and freezing points

Of hot madness and cool joy shift

The doors and walls merge, open and expand corridors of thought

So that we never exit the labyrinth, but the tiny housing of depression

May enlarge to continents and planets so that the idea of a prison turns into paradise

We return to the ocean in such ways, swimming, daydreaming, and breathing poetry

A Purple Key on a Countertop

The most malicious of ironies

I pushed you away because I knew there was an illness in me

I was uncertain on if or when I would ever find a cure

To spare you infection I requested solitary

I never stopped loving you

The words resonate

To achieve the isolation I accepted watching my beloved

Ride off to a Lone Star life

This demon in me we have battled

I wished him gone more than anyone

In the nadir of contemplating the apex of what might have been our marriage

A dream cast upon my cradle and I found the sword

To just cut it loose and be dragged down no more

Rising up I search for daylight in your eyes

In the demon’s blood on the blade I see the glimmer or your injury

Reflecting in your love like wine into vinegar for me

Your faith in us withered like huckleberries

I never stopped loving you

All I wanted was a chance to be myself once more

Like a man hindered behind a gargoyle’s mask loving you all the while

Finally shed of stone he sees such pain in you twisted into ambivalence

And into the arms of another

So now I am asked to do the same

I finally have my freedom and I am returned back into a pit

The prior awash in anger; the current heartache

Trying to make sense of the look in your eyes

Of what should matter, what should not

Smashed into my guts you were my person

I went through hell to try to love you and became part devil to get out

I beat the darkness and all I have to show for it is the love that helped me find myself

Does not want a man she has never met

The most malicious of ironies 

Blabbering Nonsense 8,892

Swallowing the force of her dissolving the taste of me

From her tongue washes the permanence

Of my desire to exit the chasm of my skull

For this world into ash

I see her ambivalence drift the fervent playfulness into numb

Rearranged in an alphabet of archeology

Into a way I could feel like a fire knowing reciprocation

Was required to kindle and so

The embers are soaked in the turgid melancholy of disinterest

The faces of the parade again stare back with occupied status

The hotel doors are copies of copies brown wood and tall

Electronic locks to the cackle of timing

Everything looks like a recording

Immutable past tense unable to interface

Understood these words drift like an extinct species

Through biological anthologies of a white crane

Stories told in bar and living rooms with the volume swung low

The blob feels like a jellyfish sting and the sway of nausea

Another face to dub this weird, off, and I have no idea what to say

Or if I will ever want to talk, participate in the waking walking

Arbitrary, ambivalent, ironic disenchanted maelstrom

Come with tornado evisceration to level this occupation

Of attempting to believe that there is something to do in this life

Some days the list is endless others every word looks like manipulated diversion

The inflation pressure on the car tires

The paint hue on the walls

The flight schedule for a passport

The lawn’s verdant elevation

The stomach’s growling requests

The picture box’s twinkling pixels

The pheromones and fluids

The stitching of the proletariat third-world

The water microbes and carbon smoke

Her scent in my drawers rising and falling

I do not want to think about attempting to care

The logistics of what the hell to do today

Feel like concrete socks for treading oceans

Who cares just check out the reef and get it over with?

Was hopeful now hopeless

Mentally ill and loving every hell

Lick the sewer rim, monster again

I am repugnant

Write to push the love into armpits and cranny coves

Mr. Feel Nothing ballet on the levee

Vomit night, quiet I’ll pass

Does anyone know anyone?

Picked the man from a past I knew not

Stacked like all the compartments she did not wish to share

How many and where, with what, and I shrink into the oblivion

Of irrelevant trust

I offer a lifetime like a breeze in one ear

And the currency is so devalued the exchange rate buys nothing these days

Country gone banana republic

The future feels like retribution, announcements like gunshots

Worse to take and blood to drown in the idea that life moves

When the coagulated paste of not wanting to try

Clogged the mind so early to keep the flood moving

Happy drowning day!