Author: admin

I used to be the type of person who wouldn’t dare stand here
Afraid to speak, afraid to be heard, afraid to be seen
I told myself I had no right to impose, no right to influence, no right to insinuate
Weighted down by retention, put myself in detention, spiraled into dementia and lost in my own dimension
I denied my intention, I denied my reflection, I denied my expression
I denied my inflection, I denied our connection and I denied your attention
Attention
Connection
Inflection
Expression
Reflection
Intention
Shun, a condition or state of being
It turns a verb into a noun
It creates action from the inanimate
Life where there was death
Feeling where there was emptiness
Danger where before there was only safety
Ac-tion, act become action
A flowering of intention

So I’m at this party and I run into to someone I hadn’t seen since we were kids and I’ve had one drink too many
And I’ve got nothing to say to him, we weren’t friends
There’s no shared experiences, there’s no fond memories
And now we’re both just here, shaking each other’s hands with big phony alcohol induced smiles
And all I want to ask him is who are you? Why do I remember you at all? Where were you when I needed you?
But it’s too real, it’s too raw
And all I can think to say is the first thing that comes into my mind
You used to have more hair
Seeing the look on his face I realize I’ve spoken too hastily
And in a desperate effort to appease the gods of small talk I quickly blurt out
A lot more hair
Inhibition, Indecision, Improvisation, elaboration, aggravation, separation

And I know

Shun
A condition or state of being
An act of a very specific kind, a judgment
One answer to the eternal question: fight or flight?
It turns attention into intention
It brings space where before there was only time
Rejec-tion, shun become action
A flowering of attention

So I’m 13 and I’m with the girl next door who I was crazy about
And she asks me who I like
And I know what that means, I can recognize it for the innocent question that it’s not
And my hearts beating in my chest and my palms are sweaty
And all I want to tell her is that it’s you, it’s always been you
But I’m afraid, afraid she’ll see me, afraid she’ll hear me, afraid she’ll know me, afraid she’ll judge me
And I mutter, I don’t know
Infatuation, mystification, denunciation, alienation
Shun,
Shh
Silence, stasis, death

But I do know

Shun,
Conditions or states of being
They turn nouns into verbs, they turn states of being into still images
Ready to be categorized, indemnified and filed away
The path from realization to decision, transmission, transition
Regression, transgression, condemnation, and sweet salvation

So I’m at this open mike thing and I’m feeling that warm familiar flush, bewilderment, where am I?
The tremor in my voice, a trickle of sweat down my spine
How did I come to this place, when will this end, your eyes, your ears, your judgment
Or worse, your disdain, your disinterest, your inattention
It’s all been said before
And I’m asking myself:
Who are we to stand before each other sharing truths older than the dirt beneath our feet?
Who are we to judge our own words worthy, valuable?
Who are we to hope our words will be heard, hope that we will be seen
Who are we to hope that we can make a difference, be known, be loved?
Who are we to strive for recognition?
Who are we to share our burdens and confusions
Who are we to share our lies and our misperceptions?

But now I’m thinking, who am I not to?
Who am I not to step up?
To hide my intention?
To diminish your attention?
Who am I not to love? Who am I not to shun?

And I’m remembering the thousands of hands I’ve shook
The missteps that I took
The opportunities I forsook
All the rules in the playbook
And how I just couldn’t look
And I’m smiling my big empty smile and I’m asking:
What’s your occupation?
What’s your affiliation?
What’s your denomination?
But all I really want to know is:
What’s your situation?
What’s your orientation?
What’s your function?

Intention, what do you intend?
What is your intention and to what do you pay attention?
And why?
I used to think I knew, I used to act upon my assumption
But now I have no why and no answer
There is only intention and attention
We have placed ourselves in a world where the complexities that swirl around us are made finite, ordered, safe
Limiting ourselves to the mere act of shun, the origin of action, a dearth of action, the death of action
The mere act of speaking our words an act of shun

I’m beginning to see the truth behind the suffix, beyond the sound, beyond the chains of syntax and grammer
And I won’t be silent!
I exist!
See me!
Hear me!
Love me!
Shun me.

I got nothing to say
You can stop reading here
No revelation nor depth to be heard
No insights to share and no meaning to glean
And the silence is blighted with each jaded preen
And our time it is wasted
Why not leave me be?
What is it exactly you hope you will see?
Why are you still reading?
Just go away please
For my words have been tortured and it pains me to see
          How simple the rhymes are
          How hollow the prose
          How tired this self-referential flow

Sure I started this piece in the hopes of great praise
But I’ve changed my mind now
I can see it’s not great
It’s pompous, pretentious and plainly overt
Its simplistic cadence is starting to hurt
It’s tedious, cumbersome, clever at best
But it’s clear that the wit I pretend is pretense
It’s not all that good, go on, read it again
And all of its flaws to the forefront will wend

And what do you want of me?
Why are you still here?
When did you hear me ask ‘lend me your ears’?
These words are my own
And these thoughts, as it were
Are the grindings and churnings of my greatest fear
          That I’ve nothing to say
          That I’ll never be heard
          I will never connect with the world through my words
So now do you know me?
Now may you judge?
I’ve opened the door but not asked you to come
Write your own words if you’re seeking the truth
          Or turn on the TV
          Or dig in to a book
          Or go out for bite
          Or take a long nap
For you get it already
I’ve nothing to add
That you’re still reading is just as absurd
As the metaphor known as Superfluous Bird
Yes I tried to be clever, but damn! the conceit
As if all that there is is to make the lines neat
Let me break it down simple
You’re wasting your time
These words that I write are not your’s
They are mine
And I’ll rhyme as I’m want to
But not focus the blurred
For your answers are elsewhere
Of this be assured

So you’ve read to this point
Let me help fill you in
This script’s a discussion ‘twixt Ego and Id
And Id’s been harassed to make meter and rhyme
To stoke Ego’s image of Self as divine
And Id’s really tired and Id rather play
And Id’s getting ready to call it a day

So here you go Ego
Chew on these parting words
You can shape ‘em and mold ‘em
You can bind them in verse
But find your own truth, that’s not really my thing
You can sing for your supper but I’m dining in
Now run along Ego, piss off for awhile
Come back when you’re ready to not act the child

I do not know what weal means
I think you are a verb
With education such as mine your sense should be assured
My thoughts on you go round and round
Of course this is absurd
You have no h nor double e
That is a different word

I weal, he weals, they weal
We weal away the day
Could be you do it with wealty
I really cannot say
And maybe you are wealsome
Or wealer than me
For keenly do I feel that I’m treading weallessly

“Just google it”, “just look it up”
But part of me infers
That you’re a living denizen of regions undiscerned
Perhaps I knew your meaning once
Mayhap I made you up
For me your nature half-defined is as a half-filled cup
And in the draught of knowing
Although I’d satiate
          My thirst for hidden knowledge
The whole would dissipate
My grail empty, worthless
On my tongue the mundane taste
          Of here and there
          And then and now
          And me and you and they

For all the things I do not know
Surround me in my sleep
But you’re someone I do not know
And yet I know your face
Seeing isn’t knowing
Nor does knowledge equal sight
But looking is to questing
As the void is to insight

One day soon, might be today
I’ll know what can be known
I’ll say “aha!” or “yeah, that’s right”
And gild my unseen crown
Then file you away again
Within some common drawer
To be forgot or be ignored
One word amongst the horde
But you’re not really weal
No, you’re not at all the same
And though you’re ever in my thoughts
I’ll never know your name

Ooh rah ustra, ura ‘jen
Kendra mevdra rubiken
Ooh rah ustra, ura ‘jen
Pentra levra mushawell

Michael sidesteps tricks and traps
Michael hears the thunder claps
Michael sees beyond the seams
Michael plays the counter themes
Clara steps and hears and sees
Clara fears the melody
Clara sometimes shades her view
In harmony but out of tune
Jill sees what she wants to see
Jill hears music in the breeze
She follows rules and pretty lights
She dances, laughs and smiles bright
Zed crafts his world from still and dark
He wants to play but won’t sign up
Zed don’t care for P’s and Q’s
Zed marches to his arcane rules
John wends his way on lonely roads
John leaves no trail in sand or snow
John asks “why?” from time to time
John hears “because” from earth and sky

Clara, Michael, John, Jill, Zed
Dim phantasms in my head
Do I have the eyes to see?
Or is this just self-mockery?

Michael fears for Clara’s eyes
Michael thinks that Jill is blind
Michael ponders what Zed sees
Michael ‘s lost John in the trees
Clara runs at Michael’s pace
Clara meets Jill face to face
Clara thinks Zed’s lost his mind
Clara’s not sure where John hides
Jill finds Michael out of place
Jill envies Clara’s flair and grace
Jill calls Zed a “silly goose”
Jill doesn’t know a “John”
Zed likes Michael warily
Zed likes Clara too
Zed thinks Jill’s a lot of fun
Zed tells John his truth
John reflects in Michael’s eyes
John thinks Clara’s in disguise
John with Jill is all alone
John joins Zed in dreams he’s wove

Michael, Clara, Jill, Zed, John
Bless these thoughts I rest upon
If I die before I wake
Which one of you will take my place?

Michael thinks himself a god
Clara says “that’s how life is”
Jill peers in her looking glass
Zed doubts that he exists

Jill, Zed, John, Mike, Clarabelle
The well paved path takes us to hell
Deeper in and further on
There’s no way out now we’ve begun

Jung brought us the archetypes
They’d been hanging around all along but in the corners, the shadows
Beneath it all, beyond the seams
Jung brought them into the light and expected our thanks
Like the inventor of a new tool, a pet rock, sticky notes
Archetypes at our table, sharing our meat, our wine, our song
See, do you see, do you see, can you see
How simple it all is, the cosmic unconsciousness
Can you see where we are now, do you see, do you see
I see, I see the dark shapes, I see the strings, I hear the bells
But not with my eyes, I see not with my eyes
Where are my eyes, I can’t find my eyes, I can’t see my eyes
We walk to work, we crave the morning coffee, we pay our bills, we bake our cakes
Like a demonic possession the a-priori otherness shapes our thoughts, our hopes, our dreams
One foot after another, free will the binary act of a prisoner in a cell
10 by 10 by 10 by life
Now I see, I see, but not with my eyes, where are my eyes
It’s all in the perspective boy
Door number 3, door number 3, what’s behind door number 3

You are
Ha ha ha ha

Jillian, Clara, Zed, John, Mike
Michael, Clara, Jill, Zed, John
Clara, Michael, John, Jill, Zed
Jill, Zed, John, Mike, Clarabelle
Zed, Jill, Clara, Michael, John
Clarabelle, Mike, Jill, John, Zed

Perception rides the ether
Thoughts and feelings there abound
Perception in mixed company
Knowledge sensed and balance found
Perception in the darkness
Fitting pieces to the whole
Perception in the morning light
Sets the daylong tone

Thought rests in dark, still places
Where the feelings echo low
Thought in conversation
Chessmen glide through rank and row
Thought in dreaming moments
Chaos wars with what is known
Thought in moments waking
New adventures to unfold

Perception said to dear friend Thought
“Good Sir, how have you been?”
T answered pensive and direct
“I think I’m fine and good
And you dear Lady, how are you?
What say you of this day?”
P dug deep and with broad sight, to T had this to say:
“The omens speak of troubles and black creatures in the dark
But victory and of happiness once things are put to right
I’m joyful and I’m hopeful yet I’m frightened and distraught
But we’ll see what tomorrow brings
With dawn’s first breaking light”

“Oh my!” said T with a slight start
“I’d not considered that!
I wonder what there is to do and what we both may lack
I’ll work on that, I’ll search and dig, I’ll find the tool we need
I’ll marshal all our forces and from evil we’ll be freed”

“No, no!” said P, “Don’t be alarmed
That’s not quite right it seems
The balance is quite sensitive and centered on the mean
No need for force, no need for war
Just listen, look and feel
Now still yourself and know the sun still rises in the East”

But T was edgy, ill at ease
And called his men to him
They’d take the tower on the hill where the dark forces hid
They planned for weeks, studied and honed
They dreamed of grand conquest
Then one fine morning there arrayed T Beat upon his breast
The time has come my loyal men
The time for war is now
Say your prayers and your good-byes”
The battle horn was blown

P heard the mighty trumpet blast
And all fell into place
But how to stop the mighty force from making their mistake
P rode to T and begged of him, “You must not do this thing
The tower’s stood a thousand years
Who knows what this may bring?”
“Fear not” said T, “Be unafraid
We’re careful and we’re sure
We’ll take the mighty tower and ‘twill trouble us no more”
P stepped aside, a moment’s lapse, for T had all the facts
But P now fearing tragedy found she could not relax

T’s army marched forth, brave and strong, through villages and woods
For days they marched at double time and all felt sure they should
Now finally at the tower’s gate they marveled at its size
And as they scanned for battlements to heaven rose their eyes
T donned his armor, helm and gloves and summoned his best ten
For though the tower, blackened stone, loomed large and fed their dread
Its doors were open, beckoning, onward T led his men

He glanced inside then entering was met by many stairs
Some led up and some led down, some seemed to go nowhere
He chose the steps most difficult, then marched forward again
For days or years they couldn’t know
But wearied from the climb, one by one the men fall back ‘til T was left alone
He chanced upon a simple door, jet black but stripped with white
The door was solid yet opened freely though his touch was light

Once inside he caught his breath then started at a sound
For sitting at a simple table sat P and an old man
T frowned at P, but tenderly, for T was fond of P
But glowered at the man and said, “I’ve come to claim this keep”
“The keep is yours” the old man said, “enter as you will
But I must say I’ve talked with P and this is what you want”
He gestured at the table and two objects on its plane
A golden goblet filled with wine, it gleamed in the room’s gray
And next to it a scepter shone with jewels both green and red
“P’s told me of the omens and her feelings of distress
This goblet holds the key to life, this scepter frees from death
But know you may select but one and one will cease to be
For these two pieces only live by will or harmony”

T took a chair and joined the pair and weighed his options twice
Then three times and then five times
But he couldn’t get it right
T sits there still, the old man too
He waits for T to speak
And sometimes P, she comes and goes
Her days now filled with ease

Sun
Shade
Ease
Essence
Layered stillness

Harmonic
History
Rest
Reverie
Ordered idleness

Acceptance
Acknowledgement
Imagination
Ideal
Virtual reality

Reliance
Renewal
Coherence
Creation
Embracing union