Art

The old woodsman who left no trace
All he left us was a book
But we cling to it while we slip away

When you can’t tell the dancer from the dance
She gets into a groove
But it’s the music
She’s moving
Swallowed by a flame so soft and without a name
The fire that consumes the deed

It’s just the art
It’s not about the living
These two ideas sometimes together never seen
But go a little deeper
You might find the space where they finally meet.

Pittsburgh

O climb ye to the highlands
For there you shall see
A baby llama with snow white fur
Gateway to the sun

Creator of all fragile and vulnerable elements
Do you not see the dried snot on their faces ?
The white crust at the corners of their mouths ?

How they thirst !!

This is our plea
For high are we

Jumbling carrots he pretended to know intuitively
A past was forming

Away from the courgettes and the aubergine clouds
Wavering above the hamburger stand
A wickety wackety giant-sized bun
Atop the clattering van
Rooftop people waiting
Fire burning with no condiments in sight
A masked broiler snickers between the crimson flames

Pittsburgh
A man yells emblazoned with fires of the past
Youth shadows spread along the awning
A young pigioen landing and shitting in your
Coke with lemon
Period.

Devilish Gurus With Their Brain Dead Flocks

7 hermetic principles

mentalism, correspondence, vibration, polarity, rhythm, cause and effect, gender

do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law
to create with one hand while the other destroys
fame is like a little dog you have to take out with you everyday

smokin like the tires of some dragster getting ready to shoot off
a parachute across the finish line
tappin the fire inside
stokin my flames with a red hot iron
another buning coal smolders and sparks into the air
poppin my fingers to the cracklin rhythm there

I wont die of exposure
Fame is not my curse
No blessing found in my home
Other than a little verse

Gypsy

Through fate and love our paths crossed
I remember under the moolit sky
Our eyes spoke over the river no words
Branded my heart to this day

The water between us your mother carried you away
I ran back to the caravan and headed East they say
And now back westward today
If she’s gone off to rest
May peace shine it’s light all her days

We stopped a while to breathe the air
Play a tune
Wash our clothes

Your home sat still like a rock by the river
Animals at your command
I left my gloves of leather
For you to find in the night

Koan # 1

Avalokiteshvara
I always find my bodhis in the street
The first sip is joy
The second gladness
And the third serenity

Number four is madness and the last ecstasy

The sparrow hops along the veranda again
Feet wet laughter solemn
Rocks are space
I’m mostly human making kindling
An gobbling down food
Paramita of Dana you can’t fall offf a mountiain
When you get to the top keep climbing

Zen lunatics rucksack wanderers in the zendo
Making up haikus reciting koans
Walkin in Tamalpais

American Taliban

Borderline mission across the river we started
Tacit agreement to leave it at that
On one would fire the very first round
Till the generals retired to the old home town
Shallow like the river runnin across our eyes
Try to make things clear see through better eyes

He said take off the gloves on this one
They let him freeze and bleed
Freedom of religion depends on what you believe

When I went over the border I went to training there
Fighting the red backed Alliance
I knew something was wrong when they called him a killer
Put his picture on the front page
The timing wasn’t right just like all the others
Striking fear in the souls of the world

Unimpressed with the devil who turned us upside down
Not academic or spiritual that was my take on it

I was really impressed with Malcolm X so I took up a gun in Allah’s defense
Then I went to learn Arabic pretty soon in Pakistan memorizing the Koran

What I didn’t tell anybody was I went over the mountain
Underwent some training there
By our US funded allies caught up in a battle
Held and starved as prisoner until US troops saved me

Thought it was all over then Rumsfeld gave the order
Take the gloves off he said
And they put me in the cold
Gunshots left untreated
Strapped down and naked

The picture spread all over
The son to terror’s Godfather
Charged with treason intent to kill
A soldier’s reason and Allah’s will

Looking Through the Stacks

I always listen to what no one else does
Don’t make no reference to the TV
Lookin through the stacks to find a good read

I lost my privilege at the library
They wouldn’t loan me Don Quixote
Now im thinkin of layin my money down
Lookin through the stacks to find a good read

You can go and do just as you please
I turn away rom what’s on now
Nobody did anything to phase me
Now you can just erase me
Lookin through the stacks to find a good read