120512 03:51
    I have no idea and no memory of what I post from, day to day, hour to hour, save the memory of phrases and ideas . . . or dreams that propel me from ‘rest.’ I refuse to obey the ideal that I must sleep a contiguous eight, seven, six or five hours. It suits me not. For those who ask, in general, I am generous with my time and for a few overly so going so far as to be for them a nurse if need be in the sense I am neither poo, pee, or blood adverse. But in that statement betray myself and fear being kicked to the curb by the one thing I overtly and consummately find, life, love and meaning for: hospice work; yet like the ministry have so little time left to gain the requisite degree proclaiming my right to do or be so.
    I am a person ‘on fire’ with knowing the value and price of each and every moment. And too well aware of death but more the victims of war on both sides. In that I am convicted that death is not the end of what writes ‘immortal’ or not, prose or poetry, or the faltering attempt to cram a new life into a small vessel of time as in think cosmically and act locally.
    Organically growing from my arising methodology of collecting quotes, astonishingly wonderful way to learn to ‘write’--and I’ve never be able to apprehend the difference between crystals and prisms metaphorically . . . or like mirrors and windows, glass is a gas, crystals are something else altogether at least to me in the rock polisher of my mind more precious than any other stone.
    In any case this ‘morning’, for it is still dark, opening my quote files in Jarte: multiple tabs, WordPad on steroids, the entire alphabet available, I fell across Tennessee Williams: “The violets in the mountains have broken the rocks.”, then remembered “Suddenly Last Summer” which like several experiences continue to tumble in my memory until they become transparent.
    If you were to ask all and  sundry relatives, wives, lovers and friends they might well say the I did perpetrate ‘evil’, or no good, did them dirt, especially in my leaving and like the one who suggested I volunteer at hospice I continue where led daily in homage and reverence for them as well as for what I’ve become: bliss, joy, confident in voice, act and deed, at last in these fleeting moments. A warriors mind and poet’s heart; “Today is a good day to die.”
    The sweet baptism of a child is but a dedication, the baptism of fire, quite another. A choice made for whatever reason or season in ecstasy, terror, during mid to later years, is substantive.
    I gave my heart to Jesus over the telephone in St. Petersburg Florida long ago, then my soul recently to God in private. Of the former I fear I’ve made a bit of a fetish, at times nearly a cult figure. Yet of the latter God, unknowable, yet present the song of the wind playing the Aeolian Harp of me best blessed by vagrant breezes and typhoon obvious. Doesn’t mean I’ll not fail nor that I can speak for the personage of many names but I will arise again to pantomime seeking the Elephant groping blind. No birds alight on me like Francis but dragonflies yes and whales too and even snakes in dreams have baptized me. . . . again and again.
    Yet obviously my tap root is in Jesus and my leafy arms reach and find before God all the other prophets sent to heal our suffering individually and collectively. In love there are no boundaries only love itself--its own justification--just like life.
    My sole intention is to aid you in finding your soul magnificent. . . . and we’ll be fools for Love together. Blessings of the day Mothers -- no regrets.

“Prayer reaches out in love to a dying world and says, "I care." --Dick Eastman

"The sheer rebelliousness in giving ourselves permission to fail frees a childlike awareness and clarity. ... When we give ourselves permission to fail, we at the same time give ourselves permission to excel."  --Eloise Ristad

120510 23:38
broken by intent or askew the family born into
we are two so familiar in the eyes of one another
maybe in another time we will be lovers again
making babies and household all that now no
longer feasible  the feast of youth long past half
generation apart so now friends met by accident?

I would be her female to her male conjoined 
healed and wed together imagined bliss if only
it were so this no divorce friends forever life
we seem of a time before time was measured or
treasured as the rule of life that begins and ends

in truth i had no sense of having a soul worth keeping
save for her healing the various sundry ills beset me
insanity of course wishing to die soon by my own hands
type 2 diabetes a broken heart literally and figuratively
and a towering rage apparent only to her there too was
grief inconsolable and she said yes to a cup of coffee
gallons ago

her home visited once per annum celebrating Thanks
giving her birthday and Christmas rolled into one is my
Mecca come Jerusalem Ganges and Bodh tree pilgrimage
my calendar set the New Year the longest day after the
shortest her birth God is zero Jesus eight Mary twelve yet
i’ve no house save these words indwelling impelling
flight unvisited save for once or twice the syntax telling
she has no sense of value in her self save what she says
by ritual quote and I don’t write for her but God and my
self welded had i the grace of Rumi or Shakespeare to
tell the love between us I’d say more but this must be
enough for now it is finished until I cry again we are
beloved by God who in loving us is unable to make
us love ourselves let alone one another in trust
120511 00:28 4m

staring into the abyss staring back at us
in retribution the evil intent is exorcising 
ourselves becoming the abyss multiplied
oddly destroying and/or other wise teach
ing them to be more terrorist than we with
might sans right to kill three million there
fore the 5 thousand or so they destroyed?
did we not teach the slayers of Oscar Romero?
the keeper is kept
the slain slays us
what part of ‘Do no murder’ is misunderstood?

“There's nothing I'm afraid of like scared people.”
--Robert Frost

“Weak people cannot be sincere.”
--La Rochefoucauld

“As long as I know myself to be a coward I shall be unhappy.”
--L. Frank Baum

. . . recent posted research suggest the demise a time of dinosaurs
caused by their flatulence the next dying off will be due the fatuousness of those who purport to serve and protect
the time of war is impracticable and never the ‘Will of God’ save only those who ‘by divine right’ elect themselves as faux demigods ‘God’s Will’ generally implies do no murder nor harm least wise will we be naked crying and playing with cockroaches and rats who’ll survive us upon a bare gray ball pocked with not comet strikes but nuclear f__k you very much Exxon & Uncle Bob Cheney Howdy being wooden and voiceless remains the dummy.

“Don't pray to escape trouble. Don't pray to be comfortable in your emotions. Pray to do the will of God in every situation. Nothing else is worth praying for.”
--Samuel M. Shoemaker

. . . black arts practiced by young children waffling joy sticks playing drones seem benevolent compared to
FBI, NSA, CIA, HLS et al who I anticipate burying me alive the grave i dig with my mouth let it be so i’ll die soon anyway as will we all . . . but what of the children?

“One of the great attractions of patriotism - it fulfills our worst wishes. In the person of our nation we are able, vicariously, to bully and cheat. Bully and cheat, what's more, with a feeling that we are profoundly virtuous.”
--Aldous Huxley

“A straight path never leads anywhere except to the objective.”
--Andre Gide

“When three people call you an ass, put on a bridle.”
--Spanish proverb
http://www.famousquotesandauthors.com/random_quotes.html
"It is written: 'Man does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.'" --Jesus in Matthew 4:4 --- all above quotes save Jesus’ were collected randomly this day, date, time
. . . least I bore you to tears or self immolation or otherwise to grasp your posterior with both hands and kiss it goodbye also see, please: Going Solo: A Brief History of Living Alone and the Enduring Social Stigma Around Singletons
By: Maria Popova http://www.brainpickings.org/

close session search and write 120510 10:36

can hardly I call it a game or play these moments at awakening when as in the now distant past I’d play Bible Bingo random selection greeting the new day the impact is similar yet the results often strange in difference between now becoming a new eternity lived in a day and sleep a death welcomed without expectation of resurrection again

events of these past several days irrevocably changed me lessening my romantic ideation to something harder less squishy and in my random encounter with quotes collected or new to me I find affirmation of questions and resolutions asked yesterday and long before only more consciously emphatic

it is enough to orchestrate the elements intention to completion in anything we do all is a self portrait anyway rendered yet it oft seems that we hurl our first new born into the night well hearing no splash the sound of one hand is silence best applause derived comes from within yet in another time or conjunction confluence intercourse with another is affirmation of both the origin of love and random mention

providence or divine inspiration seems pretentious but is not all life so the fact of free will alone should give us pause to kneel or fall prostrate in supplication the gifts denied or accepted responsibly for others that they not merely exist but thrive in these brief moments between the beginning and end of infinity

do i capitalize or punctuate these prancing words or like Einstein stand a fool grinning before God in the end who is no White Man with Gold Tooth grinning amused flashing from behind a vast snow white beard an antique Santa Claus playfully

indubitability reading came first orgasm second finally in closing days ecstasy playing with words
father was a marvelous fencing master who having run me through the heart with ‘you have diarrhea of the mouth’ early and often followed with ‘a monkey with a word processor could write a novel,’ and by extrapolation poetry epic or doggerel and between God and Man indifferent to self lays silence as death when last I after many similar verbatim's asked why ‘I didn’t know any better.’ . . . the critic? he loved to mutilate words as i did and do mangled

. . . no, like Lincoln the silence his address at Gettysburg miss thought a prayer The Sound of One Hand echoing . . . “Oh love will make a dog howl in rhyme.” - John Fletcher

120510 03:46 final 08:41

He said, my father, first god of my knowing
“there are those of kindness & others of cruelty”
describing composers, conductors, musicians and
others of genius among whom he sought acquaints
compelling me to familiarity with Kafka, Mencken
and more the lesser known contemporary to our
brief time together In his last lingering heart beats
he called me to say goodbye though enraged with
his overt indifference to me his final gift was a self
knowing more valuable than any treasure or measure
rod Separately we have come to know the genius of
God

120509 0706 #1

“I too must attempt a way by which I can raise myself above the ground, and soar triumphant through the lips of men.”
--Virgil

120508 18:28
    I write to make sense of the chaos surrounding me in ordinary time.
The theft of time by those who purport to serve, not just me but us, who attack with negatives imperiously prejudging us guilty. Ask me for a shirt and I’ve give you mine plus pants shoes and socks. Steal them and it is a different matter.
    Throughout these events, both the treat of being homeless and the ravishing attack by the IRS I came to wonder not ‘why me’ but what is this happening for? And eventually what can I learn from them--the event and players; to game the system? I don’t think so.
    In freewill, skewed by love versus fear, it is encumbent upon us individually to adapt, improvise and prevail. If not triumphant to survive with dignity and respect for our personal souls. And at that I remember the Jew who mooned his executioners in contempt for their presumption to kill him, his family, his community for being Jews. How alike we’ve become in our export of greed and terrorism imperially self-righteous; not democracy since in reality we have none but the illusion.
    Yet this applies equally to religion, governance, science all of which are mirror mazes experienced by our expectations in which experience proves the reflections to be distorted, the mirrors untrue, one small, the other fat, another invisible with no way out.save the faux Messiah purporting to give us reprieve and succor should only we consume this or that remedy in blind belief. Justice? There is none! Save within the kernel of God inherent in all life. And ‘it’ is in essence TRUTH transparent not sequestered for the few who grow fat in conceit that they alone know it.
    I judge myself as harshly as those who have led us to become terrorist to the world. I could name names but it is pointless to irk the ire of the unjust lest I be buried in sand alive or buried in red tape. Suffocated either way.
    I am not now nor have I ever been “A True Believer” in Eric Hoffer’s definition in any one or thing institutional and in sincere confession asked God to be true and God is truth, all else falling far beneath that bar. To be true to one self is to embrace all of it, the good, the bad, the ugly and divine then chose which center to live from. I fail this again and again yet fallen face forward in the dreck I get up and keep moving the goal always beyond my grasp yet the journey is the goal in itself, love life. Be here now.

--Dag Hammarskjold (Statesman)
“Is life so wretched? Isn't it rather your hands which are too small, your vision which is muddled? You are the one who must grow up.”
“It is when we all play safe that we create a world of utmost insecurity.”
"Life only demands from you the strength that you possess. Only one feat is possible; not to run away."
"There is a point at which everything becomes simple and there is no longer any question of choice, because all you have staked will be lost if you look back. Life's point of no return."
“Time goes by: reputation increases, ability declines.”
“You wake from dreams of doom and--for a moment--you know: beyond all the noise and the gestures, the only real thing, love's calm unwavering flame in the half-light of an early dawn.”

--Horace
“He has not lived badly whose birth and death has been unnoticed by the world.”

. . . and in the end I will never forget being led to read Kafka’s “IN THE PENAL COLONY” previously read at age fourteen then lost but too well remembered save for the title.

120508 06:55
pardon me while I disappear
the landlord threatened me with eviction
the tax man is weighing my genitals with one hand my purse with another a meat cleaver front and center in her belt
bureaucrats attempting to measure my competency in cost benefit bean counter ways the immeasurable profit of a cup of water given to the dying imprisoned in a glide path as I too wend my way towards where they go a superfluous man like they like all of life eventually like politicians who join the parade stepping like geese lock kneed because they can exercise power in only one way by raping the poor for their benefit simply because they can

I too was and remain a rapacious bastard filled with longing for power yet fundamentally altered by “The first will be last and the last first” and now sense in the end we will be measured by our treasury of how we treated the poor and unholy washed in our time and place death become my goal in learning that when we learn to die we learn to live each and every moment prized

I wonder why I take these few moments in peace to steal what is mine sacrosanct peace absent fear of being sodomized by them kneeling naked upon the dark cold cement floor naked as they prance and shout gloat and smirk their right to be as they are to me thieves of my right to exist as I am and will eternally remain

essentially I do so in honor and reverence for those who did so before me loving and forgiving their assassination justified in order to keep the peace their control by terror those who disagree and in whatever wisdom tradition conscious that the choice is mine to elect the highest power versus their faux fear mongering lip service avoiding the draft the wars they send other peoples children to fight for their profit in some small innocuous way remembering In Flanders Field, Red Badge of Courage, All Quiet on the Western Front and James Jones and on-and-on who in ‘deathless prose’ told another version vision of what lay beneath all the hype and vainglory

there are the few against the many who like smoke taint the mass of greed gone mad wreathed not in glory but in plain flesh and blood willing to love despite the insanity since those who kill are just like they killed bearing a kernel of grace choosing not but to disdain in addiction to obtain some other reason to glorify institutionalized law-of-land imperious unclothed rapacious bastards regardless of gender just like me who chooses to be otherwise power to the 99% the six million and the sixty million who were but a few victims of greed.

it is said that calamities come in threes, is that all there is
the measure of justice is not who wins or loses since both sides do
Solomon said divide the child in half the one who said I give up loved the child the other wanted the child alive or dead object/subject the first “proactive the second reactive”

"There is no way to peace peace is the way" –Thich Nhat Hanh

. . . in the end it is only the Buddhist who self-immolate their protest against the abuses of power and create nor fight in wars . . . perhaps this is my funeral pyre yet to be ignited; stop the world I want to get off