From NOEBIE.net
The poems and lyrics included here have been written in the 21st Century. They are presented without context or unifying theme, other than my own halting pen, eclectic interests and prodigal nature.
Many, though by no means all, of them were written using Burroughs' cut-up technique, which is one of my favorite tools for getting my ego out of the way of the creative energy.
Goodness is the harvest produced by the seeds of peace, sown by the peacemakers. – James 3:18
beneath the blue homespun
rough beads of tulasi
pass between thumb and finger
every hare krishna
every hare rama
is a seed in the field of consciousness
patiently planting
minute by minute
day by day
toward a garden of bliss
for everyone
I hate to break it to you
But you probably ought to know
Death runs in our family
It’s what got my mom
and my dad
And all of my grandparents, too
Even Grandpa’s second wife
It’s actually a little unsettling
That so many
in our family
Have succumbed to this
It doesn’t seem to matter
How much exercise we get
Or our diets
Or whether or not we’re wealthy
Death just seems
to run in our family
you were as witty
and urbane
as cole porter
and ten times as cynical
i was reading
schopenhauer
last night
zip
i’m a heterosexual
i wish i could have found you
wandering the streets
of the city
drunk
soaked
bewitched, bothered and bewildered
before the pneumonia took hold
and your book ended
cross of living wood
man suspended in time
serene saint
martyr
bound and unrestricted
in this hanging
the man is the tree
root moves to the top
at the first inversion
all is brighter now
release the expected pattern to see
the hidden pattern
of the Universe
fall into alignment
dive into resonance
surrender to harmony
flow
We were touring
the little Crackerjack Palace
Where I was raised
We were talking with my mother
Who has been dead for 26 years
She was carved out of wood for the occasion
She held a little baby of blue
You two seemed to know each other well
Talking like old friends and rivals
Have you ever met?
It was just like you
understood
Each Other
Looks like you’ve got a little hostage there
Don’t let Erwin stray too far
I have
Always been
Faithful
to
You
It’s 4 AM
You are snoring gently
You are warm like my mother was
I feel
Safe
Through all of the roses
And all of the dead ends
In one back yard after another
You just didn’t care
Quite enough
Dying words
“If you leave me now we’re through.”
He would have hurt you anyway.
Oh receiver of alms
Charity Receiving once toward home
home
justice
didn’t it symbolize home
I though clean
arrived with not a conflicted
abandoned
world
distributing a drop
a guise
the hand immaculately describes a path
something was on the left
Justice observed
alms point the circumstances
we kept down now
each perhaps disappeared
save This person
I was upset about
the question of distributing
I continued walking
I turn away
Mirror, you misunderstand
You cast me in a bad light
Not I, this coarse beast
This ugliness is the fault of my
Children
My spouse
My circumstances
The wounds
The suffering
Are justified
I am not the one who needs to change
he said
“i’m not litigious”
and kept a straight face
and so i felt a little bad
choking back a chortle
“when people are injured
they deserve compensation”
simple as that
fairness
justice
and a one-third contingency
frankly
it’s none of your god-damned business
and it was a long time ago
but if you must know
i could no longer endure
the sight of her
nor the sound of one more lazy
ignorant
word
i cried for help
and she slept right through it
when it was time to wake up