Add-a-Poem

[aims]

To at last realize ... we possess Valor sufficient to spare
because we care
because we are real, we are here, not an observer way over there!
we are glorified
chinked
tarnished
flawed
dirty bloodstained
hero armor
larger than life
rooted in earth
our only perfection
our glaring imperfection
yet here we are
hopefully not without reason
without purpose . . .
even if only that we have carved for ourselves
else, I propose,
that we'd have killed our selves off long ago!

[phantasm]

we possess Valor sufficient to spare--
the Valkyrie hovers over the battlefield
choosing who will be the honored dead
and commune with the gods on high

Do you believe you are chosen?

There is valor in the heart, it needs only be awakened.
Why does it only come out to play when crisis is afoot?

The valiant simply are.
They have no need of invasion from on high.

You want to see bravery?

It's all around. It stalks the morning like an ethereal animal,

stumbling out of bed and into the shower to go to work.




We are mighty when we face the world.

[aims]

We are mighty when we face the world,
or we'd have killed ourselves long ago!
no one knows how brave I am
or you are
in a way each of us is a shining star.
to have faced and over come as we have
just putting one foot in front of the other
is an act of faith
every one of us has faced at least a harrowing moment here and there
we've all had our share.
Today is a good day to give ourselves a break.
Just for today. . .
I am enough
I have done enough
I have done the best I could.

[nimbusGLOW]

”I have done the best I could”
a statement which has me uncertain
wondering if I’d focused on full achievement

my aspiration became inspiration
now high-ambition becomes determination
when deep belief is at last categorically proclaimed

by myself, time after time
to myself, again and again
in my attempt to be truly convinced




yet convinced I genuinely am not,
for questions arise, as such ... to qualify
by whose measure were my efforts ever “my best”

for by my own measure of what may resemble “my best”
I quite possibly could have unknowingly attained “good enough”
allowing “good enough” to suffice ... as if I could settle-in comfortably

although my ultimate goal would have been to launch-skyward from there
to rise above the need for final perfection ... a quintessential objective
thus to applaud having reached completion ... a delightful success

as I endorse an innate ability to simply begin at the beginning
moving forward from there, in my step-by-step progression
till stepping-the-steps offers completion’s perfection




coming to an end ... there to relax and enjoy
or perchance to find a new beginning,
bravely deciding to begin again

[aims]

Bravely deciding to begin again
courting ethereal power as friend
what will the picture tell in the end
a tapestry woven
with threads of days
colors weave so many ways
a home, a haven,
a star-crossed maven,
an offspring,
a launch board,
a head in the clouds,
a mystical luck that always enshrouds,
just what, in the end, will have been endowed?!

[phantasm]

Just what, in the end, will have been endowed,
blessed with luck and power,
and what will happen if it attains the All?

The corporation--
With its' singular focus on profit
Smells the scent of greed on the wind
Then whips up a whirlwind out of that wind
and power corrupts, especially when it can be bought.

If it attains the All, all will be reduced, quantified into dollars.


The nation--
weather large or small, obsessed with dominion
Which matters more, the position, or the person in the position?
Nations seek their own good no matter who's in charge
Even when they're handing out largesse.

If it attains the All, all will be forced to bow to a single head.


The one true faith--
"zeal for Your house shall consume me"
lethargy is not a problem here
when ethics and decency motivate it
but certainty corrupts.

If it attains the All, all will be crowded out on account of faith.


The academy--
practical knowledge is power, and perfect practice makes perfect
it pursues the All relentlessly, determined to cram it all under one roof
but a multiplicity of cracks exist, letting in the void
the universe is too weird to be categorized

If it attains the All, wither will mystery be had?


The human being--
Individuality is its' cookie cutter
Which allows for perfect sanity or an absolute quack
broken and finite, yet desirous of the All
the foundation of all that has been spoken of, yet crushed by the same

If it attains the All, the all will shrink to a single point which the human being might swallow. Will humanity destroy the All, or will the All enfold humanity into an even greater All?





Infinity twists back onto itself,
winding up whence it began,
and so becomes Finite.

[aims]

Infinity twists back onto itself,
winding up whence it began,
and so becomes Finite.
Finite in enclosure
in the encumbrance of material boundary
but with myriad intricate internal trails
an internal labyrinth of spirit
of soul
that the external belies,
those fingers that report
the reality of matter. . .
feel nothing
upon the retreat of the
intangible animation. . .
it would seem that
"if you prick me"
I do not even bleed
without spirit.

[anirbas]

Without spirit
I bleed when pricked
I eat I fuck with any luck

But I do not feel
taste or love
without spirit

[aims]

Without spirit
would "I" really hear it
the I that hears
that has hopes and fears
that intangible animating presence
that core, me, essence
must be in residence
or eventually the lungs don't breathe
and the heart doesn't pump
and I'd be about as exciting as an old tree stump.
but feel free to disagree & kick me in the rump!

[phantasm]

Kick me in the rump, spank me if you want,
but motivation must come from within.
You could've spurred me on more when I was a child.
But the parenting practices were overly nice and mild from the one direction,
mostly aloof, stern, yet letting nature take its' course too much on the other.

We can be spurred and cajoled and bribed
But only knowledge of the other can be well-leveraged.
Motivation must come from within.
But what happens when you lose your memories of what once motivated you?
The natural way of aging slingshoots us all away from our childhoods.
What does this mean for pedagogy?

And people claim their memories get foggy.
Children want to live and wonder and wander.
Remember?

Big hearts, big dreams; Big ambitions, big desires.
We have big fires burning in our eyes, our souls rise confidant in hope.
We tell our children they can be anything, and so become liars
when we neglect to empower them and feed their dreams.

Why do people look down on children? Does it make them feel more powerful?
Our lives are not your property, we are not your plaything
Children grow up, and then what?

Dreams do not survive contact with reality
when dreams and reality are mismatched

When are you going to learn?



Life is for living.

[aims]

Life is for living
and the foolish dreams of childhood. . .
a one in a million shot!
but that is not,
I repeat not!
because dreams are foolish
but because "reality"
is potential turned inside out
and stifled by doubt
oppressive, cynical, pessimistic
diseased mindset of "adulthood"
has us all weighted to the bottom
face barely skirting the surface to avoid drowning.
In childhood the world seems full of bright possibilities
until one by one they are scratched off,
who is to say. . .
perhaps growing up is really growing insane
a very boring, mundane, bleak, dark insanity
where not much is possible anymore!

[phantasm]

I can't believe no one's touched this since the New Year.




A very boring, mundane, bleak, dark insanity
where not much is possible anymore is hell,
a cutting off of the senses, a pillow over the face of thought.

A bubble of possibility surrounds us all
We can't help it, it's always there
We try to break it and swim in the waters of actuality
But Possibility always remains

Though you might have to break a rule to touch it,
Engage a taboo to brush it. We're all expected
to stay where we are. But the shell of possibility is broad,
beyond the line of sight of the short-sighted.

Real hope is tangible,
tangy on the tongue.
Roll it in your hands--
feel the metallic ripples and ridges.

But false hope is a far-off vision,
a mirage caused by heat stroke.
Running after it is futile.

These are what the rank-and-file are caught between.
Life is difficult, and we make it difficult for each other.
We think the real is stupid, we think the illusion is concrete
and so only cause ourselves and others pain.

There is an eternal truth buried deep in us all.
We have a choice:
Anybody can be extraordinary.
This is the nature of the humanly ordinary.
Some choices may be difficult, expensive, arduous, or outrageous.
But they need only be illuminated for us to see them.



From whence shall that light come?

[phantasm]

that's not such a bad last line, is it guys?

[aims]

no I have a hard time getting at my computer anymore my 13 year old says her laptop is too slow and the charger cord barely funtional so she has hyjacked my office and desktop maybe i'll get in here this weekend for more then her generous couple of minutes late at night that she allows she's going to a sleepover birthday Saturday!!!!

[anirbas]

From whence shall that light come?
The first, subtle shimmer of awakening?
A dawning of mental evolvement
as the mind accepts what the spirit
already knows...Nothing matters.
Nothing really, really matters.
Therefore, everything does.
Everything does...

[aims]

Everything does,
sooner or later,

change is inevitable

some comes fast
sweeping us along like a raging river
some slow
as it should
preserves the glow
let's us hold on to what we know
let's us trust, feel safe, and grow.
Change is,
therefore it is,
when every trace of the universe in it's infancy has gone
the one constant that achors every age to it
the one present and abiding factor will be,
Change.

[phantasm]

Change is the nature of water.
The river powers through sandstone, through tougher rocks
It grabs a gold nugget and hurls it downstream
The water rushes by a volcano and some of it turns to steam

The river gets things moving.
It moves things from one place to another.
Where there is not enough of one thing, the river brings it.
Where there is too much, that excess gets washed away.

The river of life creates equilibrium.

It is inevitable
as the slow steady
drip
drip
drip

of one water droplet after another.

The mystical river always brings us what we most need
no matter what that something may turn out to be.

Sometimes change is forced on us.
Sometimes change only comes when we invite it.

Either way the river buoys us and sustains us, carrying us to a new place

Some of us need the rapids
Some of us need a placid zone

The river will smooth over our rough edges, brutally yet oh so slowly

The river of life is an amazing thing.

Are you rowing upstream, or going with the flow?

[aims]

Are you rowing upstream, or going with the flow?
Which way will the water turn? we may or may not know.
Will there be rapids?
Will there be falls?
Will it be lazy,
or unexpected squalls?
That's just life's way,
it lulls
then enthralls.

[phantasm]

That's just life's way,
it lulls then enthralls.
Life is like a war-- brief moments of charging forward,
but most of the time bored out of your mind waiting
for something to happen.

Sometimes you need to make something happen.
Life will keep marching on, weather you're swimming against
the current or with it.

Swim sideways or on the diagonal.
Order a chicken sandwich instead of tuna salad.
Pace your living room floor and trace a pentangle with your feet.
Do something different and neat.

Be random, for life is random.
Purpose can be had in the void, if we're willing to create it.
We are creators and created.
We face senselessness every day-- it's the interplay of so many human wills.

Who can disentangle it all? Plans and desires of over 7 billion people
Trying to survive and make sense of the senselessness wrought by the sensible human heart.
You can bite your nails or nibble on crackers in nervousness.
Or you can embrace the chaos and find your bliss.

Life is Chaos.
Life is Order.

[aims]

Life is Chaos.
Life is Order.
Life is inside and outside the border
Life is black
life is white
life is innumerable shades of gray
life is night
life is day
life contains everything
yet it goes on forever.

[aims]

It goes on forever,
the great walk of life
each moment,
when it is privileged
to be called now,
is like wet cement,
we mark it with our living.
Once set
it is never undone
whether or not it is ever seen by anyone.
Are they cataloged
is there a divine librarian
who knows how to look up any given moment,
I don't know,
but I don't think a claim to fame,
to being known eons later
is the point of our existence anyway,
but your presence in eternity is not erasable,
maybe invisible,
but not erasable.
Do we exist beyond this mortal coil?
Everyone's got an opinion on that,
but let us at least find our presence in eternity
as moments that cannot be rewound and done over.

[phantasm]

Let us at least find our presence in eternity
as moments that cannot be rewound and done over.
Eternity stretches from the moment of creation of the universe
to the fizzling out of the final star,
and it can be found in the stillness of a moment in an ordinary life.
Our lives are precious and yet so many of us rush through our lives,
driving ourselves hard, eating lunch at our desks, driving our cars like they're bullets
why are you  rushing everywhere, what is it you are rushing towards?
The day is gone, everything you did and said and thought setting in like concrete.
Maybe there are some errors you can pave over the next day.
But sometimes what's done is done.

Sit quietly, listen for eternity
May the silence tell you what you need to hear to grow as a person.
May the darkness illuminate a part of your self that you never knew was there.
May you find real substance to your life in the Void.

Eternity will always be there.

[aims]

Eternity will always be there,
it will ever be the same,
and what will ever be the same about it is . . .
change,
it will always be a celestial river of change,
until every atom of existence has touched every other
in every myriad combination.
Likewise the intangible realm
will undergo every possible metamorphosis,
and all are turned inside out upside down and backwards
and done it all again in an antiverse.
And still there will be more to come. . .
always.

[phantasm]

There will be more to come. . . always.
Cycles will be broken
Or they will be reinforced
New cycles will arise
If we can be more mindful

What will you do today?
Will you keep going on the way you have,
Or will you try to create something new with your life?

We travel down different roads, to and fro
until the paths are engrained on our brains
and our feet travel them instinctively

the way we speak
the way we write
the way we think
the way we act

They were all new once
(you just don't remember)

We walk down country roads
the road is mixed-- half with pearls, half with gravel
which part of the mixture do you pay attention to?

Sometimes perception is reality.

[aims]

Sometimes perception is reality,

oh indeed it is,

piece of cheese from the hors d'oeuvre tray though it be,

it is nevertheless someones reality

a finite swatch of the infinite.

[phantasm]

A finite swatch of the infinite
washes up on the beach.
It is a message from the past,
reminding us of how to live,
how to be real.

So many currents bring us to where we are:
the decisions of our ancestors
the decisions of our families
the decisions of our friends

and the decisions we make out of the swirling tummult
the storm of choices buffets us

will we allow ourselves to be swept away?

We are surrounded by messages from the past.
Will we listen to them or ignore them?

[aims]

Listen to them or ignore them?
The question of the hour!
Think for yourself
or give up your power?
Step, crawl, and stumble through life,
or hide away in a tower?
Own each triumph
and each defeat
without the bitter
there is no sweet.

[phantasm]

Without the bitter, there is no sweet--
it makes the sweet all the more real.
If we had only the sweet we would take life for granted.
But some people get so much bitterness they don't notice the other flavors of life.
All because of one major event, like getting laid off from  job you worked 20 years.
Bitterness poisons them against living life, it gives them such a massive gripe
that they cannot get over, especially if they never try.

When the sweet comes along, chomp down hard
And really taste it, notice it, remember it, imbue it with your presence.

Don't let bitterness ruin your palate for life.

[aims]

For life. . .
do it all!!!
for you. . .
do it too!!!
and then. . .
do it for others.

[phantasm]

"do it for others"
They always insist
"God first, others second, me third"
But I don't like the implications of that ethic
Can you explain to me why it does not mean "me last?"
What's left over for me if I pursue this course?

I can see a wishy-washyness about it,
A vagueness that can so easily be exploited
Which others? Where? Who is the other?

A philosophy that can only give you headaches trying to do the math:
Person A gives all he has to three other people: B, C, D
If B, C, and D give all they have to three other people, will A get back what he put in?
Only if they're all living in a closed system, AND if they're all equally capable of giving to each other
but
What if it's an open system:
What if he's an Alpha Male who loves to soak up attention?
What if he's pathologically shy and only two people know he even exists?
What if the lines of energy and effort pass by him but never touch him?

Can mathematics suggest morality?

Can the soul be measured and weighed?