mortal = subject to death
all men are mortal – or are they
life fears death, an ending, a destruction, a permanent "no more"
life is matter, earth is matter
space is the absence of matter
is space the death we fear
energy is the capacity to perform work or activity
E=mc2
energy can be neither created nor destroyed
matter (mass) can be neither created nor destroyed
life can be neither created nor destroyed
death does not exist
only in the context of human creation do living things die
we are only energy vibrating at variable rates
solid, gas, liquid
WHY THEN DOES LIFE CREATE
what is energy striving to achieve while in that tenuous tri-state of solid, liquid, gas that is life?
how beautiful that life is all three states of matter working syncretically/symbiotically - but why?
why this delicate harmony?
if life creates not to escape death but to preserve this triad of energy then why?
to become conscious of itself - to witness and know itself, the universe unfolding and folding in upon itself eternally?
yes... i believe so...
11.17.2008
less is more
I fear dreams, ambition, entrepreneurial endeavors, goals, plans, obsessive self interest, vigorous career moves, grasps for fame, attempts at fortune.
I don't want to do anything spectacular with my life. I don't want mediated attention (yet, I write this blog...). I don't want to strive to achieve some self-eclipsing success. I don't want to contribute to society. I don't want to leave anything behind.
I want less.
of everything man-made
even dreams.
Since I was a child I've always been a dreamer and believed in the fecundity of my dreams - that like seeds they could be nurtured into a manifested reality. As Americans, I think we're acculturated to dream and believe in the power of dreams. After all, dreams make. dreams do.
But perhaps we've done too much. We've drown the world with our dreams and created an excessive amount of artifacts, so much that we don't know what to do with it all but dump it into the oceans, burn it, bury it, or enshrine as some mile marker in the history of our culture's stride of "progess".
As I live in New York City I meet so many impassioned people doing doing doing doing many things with their lives - but all seem to be striving for the creation of some sort of life-product: a material manifestation of one's life - that will be revered for its contribution to the progress of society. Whether they know it or not, that's what they're doing - artists, scientists, architects, designers, writers. it's manic and neurotic. in some ways I think western civilization is obsessed with creation. if we don't create then we'll be forgotten or left behind.
I'm not advocating that people should stop creating, although I might find solace and appreciation from such high moral and ethical behavior. I'm merely saying, don't expect anything from me. I feel guilty enough creating this blog, all these words and images. I want a simple life. I want to believe that I'm somehow beyond creation–that I'm ready to embrace telepathy or universal understanding, forgiveness, humility.
What can be said without words? What can be accomplished without goals? What if we put that old tool, the mind, to rest? What if we just rely on intuition, impulses, desires, instinct, necessity? What would the world look like? Who would we be?
yet we are here, a nation of dreamers. and rather than participate in this narcissistic national ethos of creation I'm going to stand back and witness it. Do little or nothing–only what is necessary, and strive for less.
I don't want to do anything spectacular with my life. I don't want mediated attention (yet, I write this blog...). I don't want to strive to achieve some self-eclipsing success. I don't want to contribute to society. I don't want to leave anything behind.
I want less.
of everything man-made
even dreams.
Since I was a child I've always been a dreamer and believed in the fecundity of my dreams - that like seeds they could be nurtured into a manifested reality. As Americans, I think we're acculturated to dream and believe in the power of dreams. After all, dreams make. dreams do.
But perhaps we've done too much. We've drown the world with our dreams and created an excessive amount of artifacts, so much that we don't know what to do with it all but dump it into the oceans, burn it, bury it, or enshrine as some mile marker in the history of our culture's stride of "progess".
As I live in New York City I meet so many impassioned people doing doing doing doing many things with their lives - but all seem to be striving for the creation of some sort of life-product: a material manifestation of one's life - that will be revered for its contribution to the progress of society. Whether they know it or not, that's what they're doing - artists, scientists, architects, designers, writers. it's manic and neurotic. in some ways I think western civilization is obsessed with creation. if we don't create then we'll be forgotten or left behind.
I'm not advocating that people should stop creating, although I might find solace and appreciation from such high moral and ethical behavior. I'm merely saying, don't expect anything from me. I feel guilty enough creating this blog, all these words and images. I want a simple life. I want to believe that I'm somehow beyond creation–that I'm ready to embrace telepathy or universal understanding, forgiveness, humility.
What can be said without words? What can be accomplished without goals? What if we put that old tool, the mind, to rest? What if we just rely on intuition, impulses, desires, instinct, necessity? What would the world look like? Who would we be?
yet we are here, a nation of dreamers. and rather than participate in this narcissistic national ethos of creation I'm going to stand back and witness it. Do little or nothing–only what is necessary, and strive for less.
11.11.2008
today i bleed
still wearing all these wires and heart strings
despite a deeper knowing and a wider perspective
today I bleed
within this mess of amassed flesh
a beating mind set 9-to-5, sleep, wake, eat
to survive these streets and the dissipate heat
I BLEED! I want to yell into these cold canyon streets, "I BLEED!"
these words are escaping through clicks at finger tips
swift as the leaves swirl over pavement when trucks pass
out a gaping hole in this hollow hull
"the first steer rolled out on the floor to be bled, skinned, and dressed"
BLOOD LET
let go notions writ in stone that stone begets stoic men with stone minds
spouting, spewing, spillage
sometimes it's gonna hurt
seeping dry from bloodshot eyes
that stones and scabs like dams to defy
could it be so wrong to feel the weight of this world
drain from flesh and drip from mind
what crime! what crime!
to be alive and never cry
despite a deeper knowing and a wider perspective
today I bleed
within this mess of amassed flesh
a beating mind set 9-to-5, sleep, wake, eat
to survive these streets and the dissipate heat
I BLEED! I want to yell into these cold canyon streets, "I BLEED!"
these words are escaping through clicks at finger tips
swift as the leaves swirl over pavement when trucks pass
out a gaping hole in this hollow hull
"the first steer rolled out on the floor to be bled, skinned, and dressed"
BLOOD LET
let go notions writ in stone that stone begets stoic men with stone minds
spouting, spewing, spillage
sometimes it's gonna hurt
seeping dry from bloodshot eyes
that stones and scabs like dams to defy
could it be so wrong to feel the weight of this world
drain from flesh and drip from mind
what crime! what crime!
to be alive and never cry
11.07.2008
four foods that have changed my life
Tonight I was eating a leftover red quinoa dish I had made the night before, absolutely delighting in it's beauty, taste, and benefit to my health. It got me thinking about other foods that I've incorporated into my diet in the past few years that have really made an impact on my health, my culinary palette and my choice to support sustainable agriculture. As we move into the holidays, a season focused on food, it's as good of a time as any to share four foods that have changed my life:
#1: QUINOA
If you're not cooking and eating quinoa yet you're really missing out. Pronounced keen-wa or kee-no-uh, this tiny seed originated in the Andes and was first cultivated by the Incas. Though it looks like rice and cooks like rice, it's actually not a grain, but a relative of leafy greens like spinach and kale. Nutritionally, quinoa is a complete protein - unlike rice and wheat - it contains all nine essential amino acids and is high in dietary fiber, iron, phosphorus, manganese and magnesium.
Because my diet tends to be low in meat, quinoa is a great way for me to get the same protein benefits I would otherwise miss out on, plus added minerals! It's also a fairly sustainable crop that requires little use of fertilizers, herbicides and pesticides - making it a good choice when supporting sustainable crops and agriculture.
It comes in a few varieties. My favorite so far is Inca Red - the color is marvelous!
#2 HEMP
Another winning seed comes from the Hemp plant. Like quinoa, the hemp seed is a complete protein, containing all the essential amino acids and essential fatty acids necessary to maintain healthy human life. The seed can be used in many different ways as far as consumption is concerned. It can be ground into a powder then made into products like Hemp Milk - similar to soy but with more nutrients and no health risks, Hemp Bread /Baked Goods, Hemp Oil, Hemp Butter, Hemp Protein Powder - or it can be eaten raw and mixed into cereals, salads, and other dishes.
Hemp Milk is my favorite milk alternative because of its taste and nutritional value. I use it in cereals, baking, and to drink - it doesn't seem to mix well as a creamer in coffee, but I'll still add it occasionally. Also, like quinoa, Hemp is a highly sustainable crop requiring little water and no pesticides. It uses also extend beyond the dietary, leaving no part of the plant to waste.
#3 CHIA
You might be catching on that seeds are way underrated as a source of food and make up a large portion of my diet. Chia is a super seed that comes from the Mint Family (Salvia) and originated in the central valley of Mexico. First cultivated by the Aztecs as a major source of food, it can be eaten raw (i.e. sprinkled on cereals, pastas, and salads), ground into a powder and used in soups and baked goods, or soaked in water (or hemp milk) and eaten like a pudding.
As far as nutrients are concerned, chia is a superfood. It has one of the highest contents of omega-3 fatty acids of any vegetable source, is high in antioxidants, fiber, calcium and protein.
Chia has become my morning meal. I soak it in a mixture of water and hemp milk to make a gelatinous additive to either granola or oatmeal, complemented with chopped fresh fruit. It's like yogurt - only so much better! It's also a sustainable crop!
#4 COCONUT
Coconut is, yes, a nut, like almonds and walnuts! Albeit a very large one - at least in comparison. The main reason coconut has won me over is it's high nutritional value and source of fat. Yes fat. Coconut is very high in saturated fat, and while that might cause many to turn their heads in fear of risks to their cardiovascular system (i.e. high cholesterol), fear not! Coconut oil (the oil derived from the meat of the nut) is an excellent source of a healthy form of fatty acids that are essential to human health and commonly found in animal products. It's rich in lauric acid, which is known for being anti-viral, antibacterial and anti-fungal, offering great support to the immune system. Also, coconut is easily digestible and its protein converts into quick, healthy energy.
Nearly one third of the world's population depends on coconut to some degree for their food and their economy and it's uses extend beyond the culinary - leaving little waste after cultivation of the entire plant.
I buy a jar of Coconut Butter and spead it on a slice of hemp bread (or pancakes) for breakfast or for a snack. I've also used it as a butter substitute in baking and as a glaze on raw desserts. I also have a bottle of Coconut Oil that I use with cooking, similar to olive oil - but it has a higher smoke temp.
One thing that strikes me after typing this is the fact that nearly all of these foods were staples in indigenous diets - people who survived off the land with little to no technology for thousands of years - and lived healthy lives in a healthy cooperation with their environments.
You're likely to find all of these food products at your local cooperative market or health food store, and if not you can always order online.
Also, if you've read this and would like to share any info or experiences about foods that have changed your life, please comment! I'd love to hear and learn from you!
#1: QUINOA
If you're not cooking and eating quinoa yet you're really missing out. Pronounced keen-wa or kee-no-uh, this tiny seed originated in the Andes and was first cultivated by the Incas. Though it looks like rice and cooks like rice, it's actually not a grain, but a relative of leafy greens like spinach and kale. Nutritionally, quinoa is a complete protein - unlike rice and wheat - it contains all nine essential amino acids and is high in dietary fiber, iron, phosphorus, manganese and magnesium.
Because my diet tends to be low in meat, quinoa is a great way for me to get the same protein benefits I would otherwise miss out on, plus added minerals! It's also a fairly sustainable crop that requires little use of fertilizers, herbicides and pesticides - making it a good choice when supporting sustainable crops and agriculture.
It comes in a few varieties. My favorite so far is Inca Red - the color is marvelous!
#2 HEMP
Another winning seed comes from the Hemp plant. Like quinoa, the hemp seed is a complete protein, containing all the essential amino acids and essential fatty acids necessary to maintain healthy human life. The seed can be used in many different ways as far as consumption is concerned. It can be ground into a powder then made into products like Hemp Milk - similar to soy but with more nutrients and no health risks, Hemp Bread /Baked Goods, Hemp Oil, Hemp Butter, Hemp Protein Powder - or it can be eaten raw and mixed into cereals, salads, and other dishes.
Hemp Milk is my favorite milk alternative because of its taste and nutritional value. I use it in cereals, baking, and to drink - it doesn't seem to mix well as a creamer in coffee, but I'll still add it occasionally. Also, like quinoa, Hemp is a highly sustainable crop requiring little water and no pesticides. It uses also extend beyond the dietary, leaving no part of the plant to waste.
#3 CHIA
You might be catching on that seeds are way underrated as a source of food and make up a large portion of my diet. Chia is a super seed that comes from the Mint Family (Salvia) and originated in the central valley of Mexico. First cultivated by the Aztecs as a major source of food, it can be eaten raw (i.e. sprinkled on cereals, pastas, and salads), ground into a powder and used in soups and baked goods, or soaked in water (or hemp milk) and eaten like a pudding.
As far as nutrients are concerned, chia is a superfood. It has one of the highest contents of omega-3 fatty acids of any vegetable source, is high in antioxidants, fiber, calcium and protein.
Chia has become my morning meal. I soak it in a mixture of water and hemp milk to make a gelatinous additive to either granola or oatmeal, complemented with chopped fresh fruit. It's like yogurt - only so much better! It's also a sustainable crop!
#4 COCONUT
Coconut is, yes, a nut, like almonds and walnuts! Albeit a very large one - at least in comparison. The main reason coconut has won me over is it's high nutritional value and source of fat. Yes fat. Coconut is very high in saturated fat, and while that might cause many to turn their heads in fear of risks to their cardiovascular system (i.e. high cholesterol), fear not! Coconut oil (the oil derived from the meat of the nut) is an excellent source of a healthy form of fatty acids that are essential to human health and commonly found in animal products. It's rich in lauric acid, which is known for being anti-viral, antibacterial and anti-fungal, offering great support to the immune system. Also, coconut is easily digestible and its protein converts into quick, healthy energy.
Nearly one third of the world's population depends on coconut to some degree for their food and their economy and it's uses extend beyond the culinary - leaving little waste after cultivation of the entire plant.
I buy a jar of Coconut Butter and spead it on a slice of hemp bread (or pancakes) for breakfast or for a snack. I've also used it as a butter substitute in baking and as a glaze on raw desserts. I also have a bottle of Coconut Oil that I use with cooking, similar to olive oil - but it has a higher smoke temp.
One thing that strikes me after typing this is the fact that nearly all of these foods were staples in indigenous diets - people who survived off the land with little to no technology for thousands of years - and lived healthy lives in a healthy cooperation with their environments.
You're likely to find all of these food products at your local cooperative market or health food store, and if not you can always order online.
Also, if you've read this and would like to share any info or experiences about foods that have changed your life, please comment! I'd love to hear and learn from you!
10.28.2008
it must end
I have civilization collapse anxiety. I read too much news, follow too many current events and trends. I'm connecting too many dots. Why does it all have to make sense? Why can't it be puzzling and mysterious? ...because we now know too much. Billions of brains connected. We can now see with a billion eyes, a million minds. It's all there/here, just key strokes and clicks away. The internet is showing us we are connected, we are one consciousness, one shared experience of everything all at once. But it's too much for one mind to process all at once, leading to overload, stress, anxiety. The human mind is under-evolved for such things: only 24 frames per second. It's too stressful to think of what's happening all around the world, at every moment, to feel it, feel it's momentum, to know it's course of direction and understand the possible outcomes. And we are only going to be bombarded with more information, more troubling, daunting, overwhelming events. There's no slowing this down.
As much as many of us would like it to go back to normal, for Obama to win the presidency and right the economy, spread peace through diplomacy and restore America through sound and reasonable policy, we must face the hard truth that we must never go back to the lifestlye we've all been living. We cannot. And it's not because we have a choice but because it's no longer possible. The days of shopping malls, botiques, endless items to consume, luxury, fashion, art, museums and ballparks, sit-coms and gameshows, yachts and all-you-can-eat buffets are over. The American Dream is over. We're waking up to reality. We've been asleep for far too long. There must be no more taking out loans for a new car or mortgages for homes; no police and prisons; no insurance; NO BANKS and credit cards; no militaries; no foreign trade; no advertising; no paper, plastic and packaging; no iPods and cellphones. It all must end.
I cannot imagine living another decade in a world like the one I have grown up in. It's been hard enough year by year with the more that I learn about everything. It must end. I can only subdue this mind so many times before it wakes up again and realizes what a shit-show carnival this whole structure of civilization really is. The tricks no longer work on me. My tolerance is too high. I'm vibrating at a higher frequency.
I'm dead serious. It must end. Either it ends in the next few years or I'm out. I'll flee to some remote corner of the planet and live in hermitage. This has gone on for too long. It's like that scene in Clockwork Orange where Alex is forced to watch violent movies with his eyelids held open and he's screaming something like, "stop! stop it! make it stop! I can't take it anymore! make it stop! make it stop!"
10.26.2008
Just in case...
given the trend of current social/economic/political events, there's a high chance of utility infrastructure collapse in these united states in the very near future. If this sort of thing happens it will likely lead to total chaos amongst people who are dependent on government and corporations for food, water, heat, energy, fuel, and consumables - so about 95% of the total population will be desperate for things they've always taken for granted. I foresee massive looting and violence, raids and robberies (FYI the US government recently deployed a unit of the US army to be stationed within the united states to help with "crowd control and civil unrest" for management of a national emergency. Also, the government has set up several FEMA prison camps around the country ready to detain dissidents in the occurrence of a national emergency). This is the type of situation where a heavily populated city is the last place you'd want to be.
Things are definitely escalating and while I wouldn't go so far as to suggest the apocalypse or a biblical armageddon, I do believe we're in the midst of the unraveling of civilization as we know it - the collapse of capitalism, globalization, government and industrialization. It's all coming down and there's really no way to stop it, fix it, or do anything other than watch it fall and be prepared to survive the crash. So....
Here's a list of items to help you prepare for the worst:
- be prepared to be mobile and pack light with essentials, unless you have a bomb shelter, in which case, stock that shit up!
- water filtration/purification kit (the kind you take camping): water is the number one thing you don't want to be without, plus you want to be able to drink from whatever sources are available.
- stock of non perishable food (canned foods, dried foods, etc)
- first aid kit and stock of medicine
- a bicycle or a vehicle (might not be a bad idea to store some extra containers of gasoline)
- a good flashlight and spare batteries
- matches and lighters
- adequate apparel (it could happen in the winter, so outdoor boots, jacket, etc are good to have)
- a reliable knife
- a safe and small firearm
- your INTUITION: things are going to happen so fast you're not going to have time to think about it. Be prepared and trust your intuition (i.e. trust your gut instincts).
If you think of anything to add to the list let me know! Buy now because the dollar may be useless very soon.
I know this might seem a little intense, but if you're in the flow then you're in the know and you probably sense it as well. In any case, it's better to be prepared for nothing than to have nothing prepared if the situation unfolds.... which is looking more and more likely every week.
A somewhat related concern: I'm not quite so sure the election will go as smoothly as one would hope. It's possible it'll drag out a month or two. Also, both Joe Biden and Colon Powell have warned of a crisis early in the coming year.
"Mark my words," Biden told donors at a Seattle fund-raiser Sunday night.
"It will not be six months before the world tests Barack Obama like they did John Kennedy. The world is looking. We're about to elect a brilliant 47-year-old senator president of the United States of America.
"Watch. We're going to have an international crisis, a generated crisis, to test the mettle of this guy.
"And he's going to need help . . . to stand with him. Because it's not going to be apparent initially; it's not going to be apparent that we're right."
10.25.2008
RE-NEW
"The purpose of cultivating absolutely clear seeing is to harness the mind to electromagnetic fields and to direct it to the access of psychotelepathic information structures. This is what is meant by the investigation of the natural mind. Once the natural mind has been restored and investigation of its cosmic capacities has been undertaken, then comes the education of the natural mind. The seminal texts of the Cosmic History Chronicles in coordination with the studies and practices of the synchronic order will provide the foundation of the education of the natural mind."
CLICK HERE
10.19.2008
life ever emergent
after watching the video I posted in my last entry everything has come back into focus for me. no more "broken child". i have, as the end of the poem hoped, made sense of this. everything is clear once again. direction, connection, vision. I'm sure this isn't making much sense to anyone reading this, so I'll briefly attempt to explain.
I came to new york with a very different sensibility about the world than that which most people living out here are operating with. I strive for cooperation and collaboration, putting the health of all people and above all, life, at the forefront of my existence. The east coast is built on competition and suspicion of the other. There is so much that is fragmented out here, compartmentalized and institutionalized. I believe that people who grow up here have little chance at developing without this deep ingrained ethic of competition because it is manifested in nearly every aspect of their environment - which is nearly all constructed by people who believe in a fragmented universe where all things are separate from one another. This is where it was created in america - new york city is the empire. this is where the institution of wage slavery was initiated. the foundations and traditions here run deep and money is god, economics the religion.
It's hard to live out here as a result of this environment and culture and not be affected by it. It's like going to another country where everything operates differently and people speak a different language, not just with their tongues but with their entire being. In order to survive out here I think I had to adapt myself to the environment and in some ways adopt this modus operandi, in effect, allowing myself to be corrupted. And I was successful somewhat in my adaptation, yet it never quite felt right. It left me feeling unfulfilled, all the while offering me more materialism to "fill" that newly created void. It's a downward spiral. A cleverly devised hook to pull you in and keep you civil as you continue to support the status quo. Simply put, I got caught up in it all and lost track of what's important to me, why I exist and what I'm doing with this life.
It's been almost cosmic coming out of this comatose mind spell. Something about the recent full moon lifted my energy level into alignment. There were different events around the full moon that I believe enabled me to regain this clarity of mind, body, spirit: the visitation of a really good friend; watching the sun rise out of the atlantic ocean; spending time in the forest last weekend amidst the radiance of fall foliage; engaging my muscles in exercise; a really intense shiatsu massage; and watching the zeitgeist addendum documentary. Surely that's not everything, as no experience is singular but rather a portion of the thread that connects one moment to the next. Those are just some knots, some highlights of intense cosmic engagement with high energy - and let me tell you, that shiatsu massage was intense. that chinese woman beat the shit outta me, but it was good! just what I needed! :) and I think she knew that I needed it too!
So what do I do now? Now that I'm rejuvenated, invigorated, energized and optimized...
I'll save that for my next entry.
[above photo taken by my friend rebecca while watching the sun emerge from the ocean and the darkness]
WATCH THIS!
Please, oh please, watch this 2 hour long documentary and engage me in a discussion. I can guarantee you that it will provoke massive insight on the way you see the world. It's extremely relevant to everything going on in the world today, especially the economic crisis and globalization, climate change, etc. If you can watch two lousy politicians "debate" for 90mins then you can surely watch this video - plus you'll get so much more out of it!
Enjoy! Let me know what you think after you watch it!
10.09.2008
Broken Child
broken because I write this
fractured into keys and strokes that extend from the wrist
thoughts from a heretic busted on bliss
the world is kind
when you look through glass eyes
at pixels and screens
the same things we see when we dream
these boats with wings wrecked in the clouds
torn apart by what cannot be seen
fallen from cerulean city highs
the ground we thought was ours to defy
splayed like child angels in the snow
suspended from the world we strive to know
I shout out rhymes and songs to hold on
pieces I've salvaged, memories saved
build an ark of these jagged bits
to float my life through this piddling myth
with the hope that one day I can make sense of this
[From April 28, 2008]
fractured into keys and strokes that extend from the wrist
thoughts from a heretic busted on bliss
the world is kind
when you look through glass eyes
at pixels and screens
the same things we see when we dream
these boats with wings wrecked in the clouds
torn apart by what cannot be seen
fallen from cerulean city highs
the ground we thought was ours to defy
splayed like child angels in the snow
suspended from the world we strive to know
I shout out rhymes and songs to hold on
pieces I've salvaged, memories saved
build an ark of these jagged bits
to float my life through this piddling myth
with the hope that one day I can make sense of this
[From April 28, 2008]
ode
i dont know what i have done
im turning myself into a demon
i dont know what i have done
im turning myself into a demon
10.04.2008
If you could go anywhere to escape western civilization and it's maniacal downward spiral of destruction where would you go? Inside a bottle? within the sound waves of perpetual automated applause from TV sitcoms? to the psychedelic corners of your mind? Patagonia?
This question beats against me like waves upon a desert shore, lapsing and returning endlessly. Can it even be answered? Is escape possible? I want to be optimistic but I also have to be pragmatic, and reason makes me doubt. The entire world is tainted.
No.
It can't be. There are places out of reach - or, I suppose everything is within reach of this industrial octopus - but there are places hard to reach, and for that matter, not worth the cost to exploit because of little or diminished returns. But are these places livable?
Do I follow in the footsteps of the big cats, bears, and wolves of north america, into the high mountains and northern tundra?
I want out. This place is madness. My country is raping its people and telling them it's for their own good! And then raping the rest of the world in the name of democracy. And I am witness. Forced to watch, to take part, to give the fruit of my labor to these warlords, funding their destructive schemes. I fear it cannot be stopped unless there is a massive uprising against it or the whole thing collapses because it is terribly unsustainable. Yet, what am I to do? In the meantime; until now and the end? This is sad, upsetting, depressing, and agonizing.
I struggle with the idea that I can act as an agent of change, act as a wise shepherd to guide this lamed flock to a better life. But people are not domesticated farm animals bred for their wool, milk and meat; they are domesticated addicts bred for their labor and ability to consume. For all the time and effort I put towards improving life for ALL living things on this planet there are hundreds of agents working against that, undoing that work of mine and then reversing it and driving it to hell.
Is there hope? And what is an honest man to do?
9.29.2008
In Between
in between day and night
this mono type and hunger strike
where words fall short
beneath heavy eyes
no sleep for the wicked
no end in sight
no dreams for the jaded
of comatose delight
these are the hours
in between breaths
between sheets
in unrest
nothing accomplished
but a heart and a chest
that rise and fall with the sun
and the moon through seasons
and years and windows dusty and webbed
dirty lights from the street
chide me with orange beliefs
of weekly timesheets and punctuality
still there will be no sleep
between a rock and fist
this screen blares on
and nothing is done
not even a lyric
worthy to hum
9.07.2008
The Story of the Weeds at Howard Beach
I stepped out onto the A train's Howard Beach Station's Manhattan bound platform and walked past a few people I had seen on the airplane who had beat me through the hub-bub of the airport only to end up waiting together, again, with our suitcases and nonchalant faces as we try to continue pretending we didn't just spend the last six hours on the same flight from a place very different from the one we now found ourselves in. There are other people at the other end of the platform - unfamiliar faces. I walk towards them and wait somewhere in between, darting glances from the people, their clothes and early morning faces in the low sunlight and heavy shadows, to the tracks that curve behind concrete walls and metal fences, weeds and trees, industrial buildings and powerlines. No A train. Eyes catch sight of new comers to the platform and follow their shadows until they too found their in between spot to wait and dart glances at the others and down the tracks carrying no train, only expectations and anticipation.
My flight left Portland, Oregon at 11:59PM after a full day of berry picking, wine tasting, and indulgent dining. Despite the ear plugs and eye mask doled to me by the flight attendant - and a definite physical and mental need for sleep - I remained extremely uncomfortable for 6 hours listening to old men with thin hair snore as I shuffled in my seat between two sleeping women wearing eye masks and ear plugs, one hunched over the folding tray table, the other blocking my aisle access to the restroom. The first calm I felt was when I realized the cabin was filled with a faint and familiar blue light that washed out the flashes and strobes of color splashed about from individual televisions mounted within the back of every seat and two feet from every face. A man had opened his window to the cool blue morning light.
Everything was still on the platform. No wind. No hurried movements. No vibrations from passing or approaching trains. And more people. A young boy dressed in banker's attire carrying not a briefcase but a mesh bag with athletic apparel, off to some private school perhaps, to be molded into civilized man, a corporate patriot, hollow, as his iPod filled his ears with music and the weeds sprouting up between the railroad ties and white crushed rocks remained still in the cool morning sun. I desperately wanted the train to come. Me and everyone else on that concrete platform. I sat on my suitcase and tuned out the banter of some long island girls' nightlife stories in their yawning accents. Buh. Even they cocked their heads between sentences to peer down the tracks. No A train.
It was 9AM on a Wednesday morning. Rush hour and on the eastern end of the A line not a train passed. Nothing, not even a sound to carry this tired body back into the bloodless bustle of the city. An old man in an old suit tapped his cane and scowled as he turned away from the direction we all hated. Faces faced watches and clocks, then tracks, then concrete and steel, perhaps the shoes of others waiting, then back to the tracks. I felt awful. Impatient, anxious, confounded and annoyed, I sat staring at the weeds, tall between the transfer tracks and green against a gray landscape. The more I looked at them the more calm I felt and it occurred to me that there was a whole different world buried underneath the tracks, the concrete, the platform and train station, beneath our feet was a world imprisoned, held at bay beneath these heavy breathless structures and concepts.
Just a few days earlier I was walking the path back from where Tahkenitch Creek emptied into the Pacific Ocean after winding through mountainous dunes of white sand and ancient coastal forest and feeling the life of the soil give beneath each step of my bare feet, tired and sore after walking through the entire duration of marine storm along a completely deserted stretch of beach. I had never hiked so long with bare feet, from beach, to dune, to grass, leaf, pine-needled and pebbled path. The body of the earth in direct contact to my skin and my nerves, an intimate connection. And I could feel all the spaces of air between the surface of the soil and that which lives beneath. It felt light and alive, like I was walking on the back of giant animal. Living. Breathing.
There was a slight tremble beneath my feet and as I looked away from the weeds I could see others' heads turned in the same direction, suitcases lifting and rolling towards the edge of the platform. From around the concrete bend and shining sliver in the morning sun came the A train, rumbling towards the station of hungry faces relieved of their doubts, their grudges and anticipation, some still annoyed that the train was not there earlier and lifted their suitcases curmudgeonly to board the train as it roared past in metallic flare with breaks screeching it to a sudden yet graceful halt.
On the trainride into the city the image of the weeds faded behind tired eyes and a colorful display of skin, hair, and garb. So many people from so many different paths convened in this one subway car, breathing the same stale air and all believing that we're going somewhere so that we don't have to acknowledge one another in this small dingy cabin where we are all in passing despite sitting or standing shoulder to shoulder while the cars jostle and scream along the steel rails of Manhattan bound track.
My flight left Portland, Oregon at 11:59PM after a full day of berry picking, wine tasting, and indulgent dining. Despite the ear plugs and eye mask doled to me by the flight attendant - and a definite physical and mental need for sleep - I remained extremely uncomfortable for 6 hours listening to old men with thin hair snore as I shuffled in my seat between two sleeping women wearing eye masks and ear plugs, one hunched over the folding tray table, the other blocking my aisle access to the restroom. The first calm I felt was when I realized the cabin was filled with a faint and familiar blue light that washed out the flashes and strobes of color splashed about from individual televisions mounted within the back of every seat and two feet from every face. A man had opened his window to the cool blue morning light.
Everything was still on the platform. No wind. No hurried movements. No vibrations from passing or approaching trains. And more people. A young boy dressed in banker's attire carrying not a briefcase but a mesh bag with athletic apparel, off to some private school perhaps, to be molded into civilized man, a corporate patriot, hollow, as his iPod filled his ears with music and the weeds sprouting up between the railroad ties and white crushed rocks remained still in the cool morning sun. I desperately wanted the train to come. Me and everyone else on that concrete platform. I sat on my suitcase and tuned out the banter of some long island girls' nightlife stories in their yawning accents. Buh. Even they cocked their heads between sentences to peer down the tracks. No A train.
It was 9AM on a Wednesday morning. Rush hour and on the eastern end of the A line not a train passed. Nothing, not even a sound to carry this tired body back into the bloodless bustle of the city. An old man in an old suit tapped his cane and scowled as he turned away from the direction we all hated. Faces faced watches and clocks, then tracks, then concrete and steel, perhaps the shoes of others waiting, then back to the tracks. I felt awful. Impatient, anxious, confounded and annoyed, I sat staring at the weeds, tall between the transfer tracks and green against a gray landscape. The more I looked at them the more calm I felt and it occurred to me that there was a whole different world buried underneath the tracks, the concrete, the platform and train station, beneath our feet was a world imprisoned, held at bay beneath these heavy breathless structures and concepts.
Just a few days earlier I was walking the path back from where Tahkenitch Creek emptied into the Pacific Ocean after winding through mountainous dunes of white sand and ancient coastal forest and feeling the life of the soil give beneath each step of my bare feet, tired and sore after walking through the entire duration of marine storm along a completely deserted stretch of beach. I had never hiked so long with bare feet, from beach, to dune, to grass, leaf, pine-needled and pebbled path. The body of the earth in direct contact to my skin and my nerves, an intimate connection. And I could feel all the spaces of air between the surface of the soil and that which lives beneath. It felt light and alive, like I was walking on the back of giant animal. Living. Breathing.
There was a slight tremble beneath my feet and as I looked away from the weeds I could see others' heads turned in the same direction, suitcases lifting and rolling towards the edge of the platform. From around the concrete bend and shining sliver in the morning sun came the A train, rumbling towards the station of hungry faces relieved of their doubts, their grudges and anticipation, some still annoyed that the train was not there earlier and lifted their suitcases curmudgeonly to board the train as it roared past in metallic flare with breaks screeching it to a sudden yet graceful halt.
On the trainride into the city the image of the weeds faded behind tired eyes and a colorful display of skin, hair, and garb. So many people from so many different paths convened in this one subway car, breathing the same stale air and all believing that we're going somewhere so that we don't have to acknowledge one another in this small dingy cabin where we are all in passing despite sitting or standing shoulder to shoulder while the cars jostle and scream along the steel rails of Manhattan bound track.
8.17.2008
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