120610 05:26 grief

I've been free falling into the abyss of death for a very long lone time. Nearly equal have been sexual thoughts: seen in retrospect the real issue was sensuality & touch. It is tasteless to live without touch. I know this as the central locus of my continual grieving for my daughter who died in custodial care at the age of eighteen months. Sometimes before I give up and end the life I have suffered, I remember that somewhere another is able to see through her eyes donated by my daughter through The Lions Club. Then I am able to take another breath and survive another minute. It gets that bad. Sometimes you just have to take life, breath by heart beat, or minute by minute.

Unaware until this moment it, her lingering lonely death, is perhaps the nexus of my intention and motivations to serve those about to die in hospice care. I refuse to be a “Poster Boy” or vain in this regard since as mendicant I receive far more than I am capable of giving. I am humiliated not humble. It is dangerous to ask God to inhabit your heart, mine being so small and finite and once, or so I thought then, immutable as I did The Who is friend & beloved constant and true.

My dearest friend in the cosmos at least the one with a body asked me how I was doing with Nicoreet? To which I replied, “they interfere with my coffee.” My son drown in his blood from Leukemia and my father was unconscious, in a coma for five weeks from COPD and now though I gurgle light it up first cup!

A horny old toad am I. Remembering now a foxy book seller who replied to my statement regarding the folly of committing suicide by cigarettes; “Well. You know the Sufi Masters smoke to keep from exploding?” Oh Lord God and Holy Choirs of Angels that was so long ago; possibly too late to really care. So maybe I'm practicing for my own lingering or briefly experienced dying or death?

120612 01:36

a number of solar systems have passed beneath my keel since I started the above and now

sadness struck personally with the death of a kitten well remembered and left behind in my quest to now this old man who writes crying and giggling in the night becoming day

Add to which before departing last evening from hospice in dialog with three nurses women of young to median age I heard the oldest a grandmother say I wouldn't want to be either my daughters or their children living into the future

While I ask silently What Future? I attempt to curb my mouth since I read the anguish and angst of those about to die and the young people without a future stolen by the Corporations gaming the system stealing our lives and resources and using the profits to prophecies their sense of justice Being the Greatest War Criminals in all time

But then I am equally a criminal in that I allow them to go on and on killing in my name having stolen the blood, sweat and tears of my grandmother who took in sewing

I have an exquisite sense of Exxon and Wal-Mart both are criminal in their behavior towards their employees and the governments they purport to 'serve' under they buy politicians who cry “More Jobs” but what sort of jobs more nearly slavery without remission.

120611 04:44

stealing across fire mountain, what the first natives called the Organ Mountains, is a new day more over announcing a new me not reconfigured or renewed simply another birth no merely the body in decay dying but a new self irrevocably altered changed in process becoming

what?

transits of planets and lives are equally physics it is the adored Eternal silently enters my day a new life begins Christmas, Easter, Resurrection another day

yesterday was another wholly different gold fish bowl into which the rays of dawn brought Alan Clements a lapsed Buddhist monastic who made greater sense of the inevitable integration between self and others and all of us via Public Radio's “New Dimensions” Program Number: 3433 “THE WORLD DHARMA OF FREEDOM AND NON-VIOLENCE with ALAN CLEMEN”

http://www.newdimensions.org/

http://soundcloud.com/worlddharma/alan-clements-interview-a

http://www.worlddharma.com/

by nature I join nothing but do participate in the lives of others to the degree allowed by them yet in annotating this encounter considered deeply over the past 24 hours I've come to sense the meaning of integration and/or constellation better . . . listen and judge for yourself . . . enter the steams of light hyper linked above

“I'll take thy word for faith, not ask thine oath; Who shuns not to break one will sure crack both.”

--William Shakespeare

120612 00:48

a few closing thoughts before I post this and move on

I in retrospect whilst immersed in other equally important more pressing in my face issues remembered the impression Alan made upon/within me . . . His charisma and sincerity in a time of disingenuous to use a very useful Christian term: His “witness” made sense to me

as for “joining” anything I have given my heart to God and my body to hospice they combined are my family, my church and my reason for letting the fresh air blow the stink off my body Otherwise I'd write myself to death

Alan this young to me man wades into issues that address issues where political 'angels' fear to tread in streams of molten lava where he is in the best company I have ever known at least this time this life I'm prepared to leave yet I would tarry or return in spirit or body simply for the children so often abandoned to the vagaries of war while the fat cats profit and our selves and progeny die.

If you read me you should take the opportunity to listen to him

if not now when? Do we The People take back our lives from the slave holders; give me liberty or give me death.

be well.