Shooting the Saint
I’m shooting down the saint I’m losing his skin, breaking free of that straightjacket, that idol, that sin. Getting darker, listening to the soul, getting dangerous, getting whole.
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Poems
Who
…who straddles an abyss, and dances a rhythm not of this world, who was burned and drowned but who still returned. Who goes straight, won’t vacillate, who fell, but stood again, lame, who heard the unheard of, is spontaneously trained. Who can’t forget what is to come, is speechless from being spoken to, blind from
Sheered Vertebrae
Cruised off the logging road along the edge of a marshy pond and came across a significant trail through the tall grass. Thought it might be a moose and so followed. After about 50 metres along the edge of the pond came to a clearing beneath some tall pines where the ground was covered in
Dust is the Cosmos of an Atom
The whole cosmos is composed of dust; endlessly evolving sea of dust, between form and formlessness proceeds Creation’s flux. Cosmos of solar systems, groups of stars and space, suns and stars revolving, in their order and their place. Concatenation of gas, solidifying, into an ordered mass, forming. a planet of air and sea and stone.
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Fascism & Utopia
Fascism is a hair’s breadth from Utopia.
Those who try to force funnel the hard grit gravity ground of everyday into Utopia,
to compel it across the great divide,
turn into slavemasters and witchhunters.
Naiively they set out to purify the strain, exorcise the demons, exterminate the wrong thinking, abolish the Mixolydians.
The Bond
The Bond Through suffering we are bound, bound together, wound tight, together in our wounds. All wounded, so all bonded, all bonded, through our bounds. All tied in to that common thread, all bled in to that common blood; Suffering.