Spatter and Dribble

My thoughts are fastened to the woman in the corner surrounded by wet paint
Whose only tools are a brush, a roller set and a plastic saint
She’s smug for now, still rolling roller round the pan
Nowhere left to paint but where she stands
(her ground)
So now she’s sitting down
reading off the label of her brush
describing dribbles on the floorboards
Insisting other nearby painters hush
She’s got no blush

Her head floats 16 inches off her ivory neck
So eating’s not a problem yet
But when she speaks, the words come from her eyes
There’s no connection to her silent heart
Nothing’s sadder
No matter
how she tries
To douse the stench arising from between her thighs
With the Perfume of her lies
About the frog which sits for days or weeks upon his lovely lilly pad
Looking out for all his children like any faithful dad

My eyes are Locked
to see the outcome of this situation
My hope is docked
in a harbor of
A happy salutation
For as surely as the sun will rise
All the paint of time will dry
And all the corners where the painters sat
And for one brief eternity
felt completely trapped
Will give way like gates on to an open plain
Where wild cats roam
Where splendor reigns
The air is clean there
Where winds and wings converge to take the weary painters home.

Now I’m done.

The Shards of my Existence

Unveiling

“Fear not the pieces of darkness and evil.
As the fire causes dross to surface on the silver, so your past horrors appear in your mind and dreams as you rest in the fire of truth.”

The unveiling of my past
Yielding to the horrific truth
Of a life devoid of God
Huge hurdle
Crucial step

I’ve asked the questions and I resist the answers

This is the substance of hell
Hell that must be purged
Shall be

I’ll not take these shards to my grave without my friend beside me
Will you take yours alone?

To the place of revelation
Keen awareness
Total recall
Demise
Resurrection
Rise

Oh! The burden of my primordial soul
Relieved at the cross of Jesus
God’s first and only begotten Son of Earth
God’s whole Word,
Relieved in clear, bright, welcoming light
Cleansing heat

I am ready now
I am home
finally

I see you.
Come
Our hearts are ever linked as one

Myriad wicked perpetrations
Find endless absolutions
In the at-one-ment

Come
Welcome home

Diamond Race

Nigger don’t care

White trash breathe the same air

Look at me when I say nigger

Middle finger all ready to pull the trigger

Go figure

Don’t like me saying it but give me some space,

Before you spray your bullets and mace

Nigger’s a word, not every black face

If you’re a nigger then I’m white trash, ace

You are beautiful

You are powerful

You are strong in a hundred ways

You are America

You are coal from the earth

Priceless worth

You are the diamond race

You are strong and Indestructible

And your mothers and fathers are proud

You are Their children

You are the chosen

Your time to shine is now

We all need you

To shake it off and be you

Understand

what I’m saying

Time to stop paying

All that money to the man

All your blow to dirty joe

Look at me when I say holy

You got the soul we

Need to be whole Please

say it’s gonna be the

United States of we My

finger points to you

yeah

Three more pointing back at me

Objectivity 

Unless you turn and become like a little child, you will never find heaven.”Jesus

How do any of us believe that we can be objective about life? How does one rise above what one is? How does a thought ascend above the thinker or a thinker rise higher than his thought? At some point we all need a sky-hook or a pair of those magical bootstraps. 

Even God is subject to his “isness”. The divine says “All things are possible to God” and yet “God cannot deny himself”. Even God says “I am that I am” possibly admitting that there is no possible alternative to his being and no possible objectivity either. So I am made in this image too. I am that I am. I am subject to my being. At my core their is pure, refined resignation to the fact that I exist. So after all, in my effort to be objective, I have arrived at helpless subjectivity.

So what is left? Relationship. Since there is no final, all encompassing objectivity to set me free from the shackles of existing, my only hope is to find companions in my journey. “Everything is relative” is my answer to “Nothing is objective”. Just as objects dissolve at the speed of light so they all appear when their speed is relative to each other. 

When objectivity dissolves, relativity manifests.

It’s like one of those paper placemats at the diner with an elaborate puzzle maze printed to occupy the kids while waiting for the meal to arrive. I followed the corridors of objectivity hoping to arrive at fulfilling life perspective but ended abruptly at the wall of my own being. Fortunately I found another track: relativity. Like a rumba vacuum bumping against a wall over and over, for a while I kept banging into objectivity with faithful abandon because the alternative seems so undignified. The alternative is relativity where one cannot rise higher than his fellow. There, one is subject to the same things as everyone else. One is as objectively blind as the next guy when it comes to philosophical matters. One is left needing help and being needed to help. Relativity leaves me vulnerable and in need. But on this trail of life my waxy little crayon has made it to the goal. I am content with my subjective living because I have discovered family and camaraderie both physically and spiritually.

The 50/50 Gospel

Takes Two to Tango

First, it’s good news that I was wrong about the terrifying aspects of existence and about God. Jesus brought a message of hope to throw itself against all the lies of religious terrorism. His life ended the reign of so-called “meritorious justice” and substitutionary blood sacrifice. He assured everyone of salvation through the fatherhood of God, the sonship of humankind.

While I was busy reveling in the relief his message brings, I was missing the other half. What I mean is, God, my father in heaven was also receiving good news. The good news to me is that God is my Father! The good news to Him is that I believe I am his child. It takes both parts to make the gospel complete.

Transcendence

Waves

Beyond all perceivable reality is the creator. Within this existence are cycles within cycles of being, streams of consciousness, birth and rebirth over eons of time. If I can perceive it, then it is not really supernatural. So, trying to make sense of eternity from a purely sensory-intellectual context is vain. All turns back upon itself in apparent futility to despair and endless oblivion.

I do, however, have a path of connection to the “other”, a salvation from “fate”. This comes via my deepest need for a father. My need is not only a spiritual yearning but just as importantly, a spiritual sign post pointing to a transcendent reality. I experience the want of a caring parent and coupled with my belief, it is a viable promise from beyond.

Sonship is the Father’s message to me, his child. Jesus is the voice of my true father who is the progenitor of my being, saying, “You are my son.” Among all the spiritual claims of all the religions of millennia, this one is unique. It transcends all the ideas based on my sensory perception. When I have exhausted all possible esoteric scenarios, my sonship to God remains like a glistening gemstone washed clean.

Through this relationship my consciousness is sustained in eternity. I am born from beyond that which is created. I can “sleep” without fear because my Father does not “sleep”. I will no longer awaken to my former “lost” status to encounter again the agony of becoming. No matter my incarnated form, I (my life, my specific personality, the one here writing these things) will be permanent, immutable and indestructible because my life is also the life of the eternal Father, my Heavenly Father. My being is fathered forever by him.

This facet makes my existence complete. It concludes my search.

Eternity is an Overwhelming Thing

No wonder so many refuse to believe in God and eternal life. There is no evidence that we are not spirits who continue to exist after the death of our bodies. No evidence that we are more than atoms either. When I say no evidence, I mean we can assume either position and use experience or observation to support it. Either way it is according to what we want to believe, not some objective truth. Both views are faith based in some version of reality. Can either one claim higher ground? Haven’t both “seen the light”?

So we may go on arguing from our logical and sensible points of view. Each side protecting what gives comfort from the other that disturbs it. I guess that one of the two views is correct. Can both be? Is there a portion of human beings who will simply dissipate at death and a portion who will transmigrate as separate spirits to a new body and new life forever? Hmmm.

And each will spend at least a little time here wondering if he or she is actually in the other category.

The Mind Without the Body

This is the great lie. Every philosopher ends up here. When I came here of course I was terrified, like everyone who has ever arrived at this end of the line. It seemed to me that my mind could exist without my body. For whatever reason it just seemed logical. I guess it stems from the idea of a master mind. That if such a one exists, then what a terrible circumstance that is! To exist without recourse of non existence. To be without end. The ultimate dilemma. The mother of horror. Fortunately someone reminded me that I have a body. Unlike what I perceived the Great One to be (a bodyless mind), I had a body to retreat into. And my body had parents. Therefore my mind had a beginning and someone else to be with. I took refuge and great comfort in that. In this place of respite I reconsidered the idea of God, the master mind. Someone was providing me with a residence in which I felt safe. I called out to God as to a father and I was delivered from the lonely torment into a comforting communion. Pure mind was abysmal. Having a father and mother of my mind, ones who have provided me this body (and, by extension, I mean humanity here and now, where and when I am living) was and is such an exciting prospect! Believing this has led me to consider that they also have made bodies for themselves. Bodies are the comforts of minds. God’s body are his children, his family. I thought of believers being called the body of Christ. We are his “temple”, his holy temple made of living stones. I think I realize now how valuable the body is to God. It is God’s essential comfort, joy, and I would even risk saying, salvation. With this understanding, if it is true, then accepting a separate, embodied existence is a crucial responsibility that has ramifications way beyond my personal life. Accepting this reality is both a high honor and a vital obligation. Being a child of God means taking my place in the family and doing my part in creating and maintaining a body for the mind. The great lie separates the mind from the body and the body from the mind. The materialist denies that mind exists apart from matter. The esotericist believes only in spirit, that the body is an illusion. If my understanding is correct, the great truth is that this wonderful world of minds in bodies is real, complete with faith, hope and love!

My family

God Loves Us…

…so much so, that he sent our brother, Jesus, the first born of us siblings, to declare and proclaim that we are family so that by believing him we would live and not perish! We are all the children of God!

John 3:17 For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world should be saved (brought to our senses)through him. 18 The one who believes in him is not condemned. The one who does not believe has been condemned already, because he has not believed in the name* of the only born (only purely Spirit fathered) Son of God.

*The name above all names: Jesus. The Logos, the embodiment of the truth about me and God. God with me. How is he with me? As the father that he is. It’s the only possible way for him to be in relationship with me. Jesus declares that I am bone of his bone and flesh of his flesh, that we are of the same genealogy and are equally sons of God our father. The reason I am not condemned is because God is my father. I receive it, I believe it and I reclaim my real identity and re-join my true family. I may be disciplined but never condemned. Condemnation is something I inflict on myself by shutting down the truth, by denying that I am my father’s son. If I do that, I refuse the flow of life blessing which comes with the family tie. The love doesn’t stop from my father or other family members, it is I by my denial, that turn it away. In this way I am condemned already. Jesus leaves that where it lies. He came to declare who I am and he does that with his very name. I love my brother so much!

We Are Men

Bangalore, India. I sat and talked with these fellows for several hours. They shared their food, cigarettes and ganja with me. It was my last night in India and I am so thankful to have spent time with them.

Pure and perfect

Perfect in Joy

Pure in mind

You are worthy

You came to me here in this place of defilement

You came into treachery

To save my soul

You are worthy of my praise and love and thanks

Though I doubt that you really like the attention that much

Like any hero, you were “…just doing your job.”

So perfect. Not a smug perfection.

But a perfect one in every way. A reachable perfection.

A friendly form of purity

Warm with camaraderie

I feel like a real man in your presence.

I feel your strength in mine

A rugged beauty

A handsome rock

We are men

We are brothers

This is a solid joy

We walk this trace together

We climb the steeps with heartiness

And ford the roaring billabong with laughter

Because we almost drowned

Now we sit together resting ‘round

the friendly blaze

Content with friends recounting

stories of our ways Around us

temple pillars seem to flicker in the fire light

Above us all, steel blue punctured by the childlike sprites

Who stop a moment from their frenzied play

To watch and hear our tales of holy escapades

We all belong

All is right

In this redeeming wilderness

This pure and perfect night.