Facebook Posts from April to September © 2013, Ron Fife
Philosophical Poetry or Quirky
Ramblings?
In this world it's hard to feel
The connection between us is very
real
Fleeting, tenuous, tit for tat
Give you this, if you give me that
Separate bodies make it real
Interactions become a deal
Unconditional love; join as one?
Impossibilities, if this world we're
from
But if this world's an imperfect
reflection
A manifestation of our heaven's
rejection
Then everything we do or say
Affects us in the deepest way
Things that might seem trivial
Lessons that are
truly pivotal
All thought and action is one
dynamic
Join in love, or play the ego's
trick
For love we bargain, beg, or steal
To make these separate little bodies
real
But if love is freely given
The thought of separation is
forgiven
If our spirit is one and the same
This world is nothing but a silly
game
Can't seem to pull away from the
table
Play all our chips as long as we're
able
It's winner take all; losers fade away
The world is a battleground; we
might say
But if we step back and understand
This universe is much more grand
A tiny speck of the one mind
A flash of light to make us blind
Beyond our limited sight
All is one and bright
One consciousness, love is the glue
God, me and you
Eternal infinity beyond spacetime
Hard to see, it's so sublime
But every little act and thought
Affects this universe that we've
wrought
We stammer, stomp, tear apart the joint
Or work ourselves closer to the
Omega point
If we can look beyond, we'll feel
That connection is very real
Each tiny thought, every word we say
Is simply the lesson we choose today
Fortify our little selves in fear
Or, show the love and unity that's
really here
*****
One Note Missed in Heaven
Find your voice, find your song
Find it now we don’t have long
The past is gone the future is bright
When our voice says we’re alright
All here in this space and time
All the fear, hurt and crime
Nothing but love truly persists
Only the love really exists
One note missed in heaven
All the blasting, drone and din
Screaming, screeching, cries within
Won’t be heard in heaven
Sing the song of love
The same one from above
The only one that will last
The one from before our past
Find your heart, open the door
To the song at your core
Beneath the hurt and the cry
Love is waiting to soar high
One note missed in heaven
All the blasting, drone and din
Screaming, screeching, cries within
Won’t be heard in heaven
All the pain is surrendered
Only love will be remembered
The past is gone, the future will bring
The love song that we now sing
Yours and mine are both the same
Only love, the rest’s a game
In your heart is where it’s wrote
The same one as heaven’s note
One note missed in heaven
All the blasting, drone and din
Screaming, screeching, cries within
Won’t be heard in heaven
*****
Much of
what the eye does see
Is a lot like watching a movie
It doesn't seem quite real
It takes more to make me feel
Experience can be profound
When the ears hear a sound
When they hear just the right note
Lifts the spirit; makes it float
I do know because within
I hear the droning and the din
The long night rattles and thumps
Air compressors, motors and pumps
A hellish vision unless I'm blind
And find distraction from the grind
The TV only makes me see
A blander version of reality
This tablet holds all my writing
And a music mix that's so inviting
As I hear just the right score
Grabs my spirit at it's core
Bruckner, Brahms, Beethoven
Pink Floyd, Hawkwind, Jon Anderson
The right riff makes me feel fine
And sends chills up my spine
Helps my tongue with right word choice
Tunes the song in my own voice
The past is gone, it does not exist
Yet fear of a memory can persist
Until the fear does lessen
The path to peace is not progressin'
When those lost are remembered
For nothing but the love surrendered
The real lesson will be near
Overcoming all the fear
Those of us still alive
Say we must judge to survive
In this world we must choose
Or, life and happiness we may loose
But if our choice is always fear
The path to peace is not clear
Tease out the love from the past
From collective memory that is so vast
The love they gave us; those who died
Is still with us; it can't hide
When the past becomes a lesson how
To see love's presence in us now
The future will be bright and clear
The path to peace and love is here
The dentist did chisel, scrape and
grind
Shot up with novacane, I didn't mind
Bonded, filled and sculpted those teeth
Not sure if real ones are still underneath
Numb on one side and dripping drool
But no toothless hag; just a fool
Now I can bite into that tough meat
Or, the apple that tastes so sweet
That is if my partial, I don't leave out
Confidently open this mouth and shout
Hurray for Labor Day
I get to work for poverty pay
The bosses are off; away at play
Don't need to hear what I have to say
Do the job in their dictated way
They can count on me; I'm here to stay
Can't afford to get away
Just enough to eat, so I'm ok
Our non-union working world today
Grateful for the crumbs, anyway
He is on a cleaning tirade today
Maybe I should stay out of his way
Or, maybe I should try to help
So I don't have to hear him yelp
Going through the house like a storm
Upsetting our lazy, relaxing norm
Don't know which way I should turn
On pins and needles, in hell I might burn
When he is like this, I feel like a louse
But at least we'll have a sparkling clean house
My newsfeed
won't go back more than six hours
At the mercy of Facebook's monolithic powers
I can't see all your posts but it may be ok
Likely tons of crap posted on a Saturday
Want to know what you do and how you feel
But sometimes so trivial it doesn't seem real
You post what you want; I shouldn't complain
I make mountains of molehills too; I'm just as vain
I just shouldn't spend so much of the day
Trying to see what you all have to say
The imperial Facebook is
restricted today
Maybe it's telling me to go out and play
Toe chronicles -
His little pinky toe
Slowly better, his tale of woe
Still sore but getting well
He uses ice to reduce the swell
I have my own tale to tell
Not one about when I fell
My poor toe, next to the big one
For years, it seemed nothing could be done
I was a truck driver back in '05
Depended on truck stops to survive
The showers appeared quite clean
But fungus was lurking unseen
Although I showered in my flip flop
Somehow, athlete's foot made the hop
Eight years it lived on my long middle toe
Why it didn't spread, no one could know
Itching, burning, driving me mad
Everything tried was just so bad
Expensive Tinactin everyday
Barely kept the itching at bay
Finally, He looked up on the Internet
Old wives tales, most people forget
I've been dabbing on vinegar for over a week
My poor middle toe doesn't look so bleak
The white scaly flakes have sloughed away
Leaving pink fresh skin behind to stay
No more will I be bitching
Yay, gone with the itching!
Happy Birthday to my Father, Art
A place there is always, in my heart
If today, he were still alive
He would have been seventy five
But he left us less than a year ago
For those who love him, a painful blow
In his younger days, he looked like Elvis
At twenty five he bore me, with seed from his
pelvis
I'm told that I emulate him in many ways
Gestures, mannerisms and things that he says
Some of the bad habits where I do fall
Even smoke his former favorite Pall Mall
Good things too, no need to hide
I wear Dad's trappings with pride
A nature that is gentle and kind
Intelligence and logic of mind
He used to tell me that I was alright
Gave me confidence to fight the good fight
"You're alright, the world is wrong"
Motivation to sing my own song
Beyond everything and no less
Belief in myself, priceless
Yet even more greatness couldn't be done
Than the love my Father gave to his son
Samsung's very bad
Makes me sad & mad
That Jellybean update
Came with some freight
Work I must do
To fix what they blew
They committed a sin
To which I won't give in
My music playlists are
gone
Am I just their pawn?
I won't make new ones for the cloud
I coded my own so they're not behind the shroud
Making them with the music apps
Hides the lists in system file traps
But now, they want them in their cloud; perfected
But I can't stream; I'm not always connecting
Google, Amazon, Samsung; each has their own
Together on my Android is where I want mine shown
One folder with my own playlist
Next to my music; get the gist?
I only hope the apps will see
When I copy my backups from the PC
If there must be a choice
Then I speak with one voice
Always love over violence
No matter the pretense
War is not the answer
I prefer the raunchy dancer
When I'm a prude
I tend to fight and be rude
Behind all the twerking
A bit of love is lurking
More pleasing to my eye
Than bombs from the sky
Don't need to police the world
Let everyone's love be unfurled
Sexual expression, no matter the form
Love is there somewhere if not the norm
It's not disgusting, I'm not the judge
If it is then for war, I'm easier to budge
Old men in sexual frustration
Bombs away on some poor nation
No time for the hawks blinding
With tongue hanging, watching the grinding
Please pray for his poor little toe
Slipped on the porch and took severe blow
Jammed and bent backwards it went
Ligaments and joints must be rent
No pain right now, it's just numb
Don't blame him, he's not dumb
Several times yesterday, the old dog threw up
This morning on the porch, some clear stuff coughed
up
He didn't see the clear, wet slime
Just wasn't lucky this time
The old dog is eating, feeling better again
Hope he feels better, sooner than then
In Sleepy Hollow, we're safely
tucked away
Quite far removed from the events of the day
Not mixed up with all of the crap
Peaceful and quiet, out here in Bulls Gap
The Internet and TV show us every instance
We can be observers from a distance
It might seem that we're unaffected
But at us everything is directed
It hurts us to see all the judgment and pain
Our collective spirit has so much to gain
Whether verbal, or physical, any form of attack
To our spirit, they give nothing back
But with the right filter, we can tune in
Find the love and forgiveness within
Although far away by many miles
We're deeply touched by your smiles
Every thought and feeling affects the spiritual
field
Overall, joining in love is it's yield
There's not much we can do from way out here
But think with love and counteract fear
Calling for love; every judgment and attack
Love and forgiveness is what we send back
But it sure is nice to see your joy
Easier for loving returns to deploy
Evidence the great spirit's work is getting done
When joy is shared as if we are one
The old dog can still bark
To her past it does hark
Haven't heard it for a while
Surprised, yet makes me smile
Yesterday, a new pressure washer, we got
Today, Bill's out there giving the house a shot
The next door neighbor came over to talk
Following her that pit bull does walk
Jenny really hates that bitch
Must've given her throat an itch
On the porch she stammers and paces
That pit bull is not in her good graces
She barked and let the expletives fly free
That dog better not chase our cats up the tree
That pit bull and her mean sisters don't belong
here
It's Jenny's job to make it very clear
I had thought she was retired
But up she can still be fired
So don't come too close to her territory
She still will protect the cats, Bill and me
I must be a nut
Can't keep my big mouth shut
Just can't refrain
I whine and complain
Eight nights at work and the house
Made him feel like a louse
So now, he says get off your butt
Dragged out the door; this nut
Dragged out to the store
So I won't be a bore
Taking me out to eat
Isn't he sweet
Though I'm tired and lazy
Better not act crazy
Just be grateful and smile
Time with him for a while
No matter what he buys
I won't let out sighs
Enjoy the excursion
From TV; a nice diversion
Gotta go, like this plan
Quality time with my man
The dog is too old to escort me up
the trail
Exercise daily; I'm afraid that I fail
I'm sure that the trail has become overgrown
But it won't be trimmed unless I'm shown
Inspiration and a kick in the pants
Alone it won't happen; alone I can't dance
Daily walks; a big difference they make
Without them mental health is harder to fake
A case where the mind can follow the body
Thoughts without action make life kind of shoddy
Tried to make up a different routine
But find myself reading this Internet magazine
Hours on the Internet and Facebook
Chubby and flabby the body starts to look
Cobwebs growing over my brain
Tar and sludge in my vein
Just can't make it out the door
When the old dog's beside me on floor
Bill comes home tired and naps on the couch
So I blame him too for being a slouch
Not really his fault; he works ten times as hard
Just looking to blame as I turn to lard
I have a job where I sit on my butt
And I've stuck myself in this rut
I might see what's going on if I make it clear
Change might come if I confess here
I do fifty arm curls but the rest I let slip
Guess it's up to me to crack my own whip
Gotta get off my butt and start moving around
Mind and body; together can be sound
For days at a time, she goes off wild.
But when she's home she's sweet
Rubs her face on my feet.
She's not as bratty as Coco
But she may be more loco
She's prone to mischief and acts crazy
Unlike
But both are affectionate with Bill and I
Their mentor, Jenny, is the reason why
The old dog, they both take after
All three fill our home with laughter
Coco is
a brat
No, she's not a cat
She thinks she's a child
One that's kind of wild
Spoiled rotton to the core
Makes me open the door
She could go out the back way
Through the dog door she has sway
But instead scratches my knee
With a demanding plea
Let her out through the front
No shyness, she's blunt
She's not trying to play
She just wants her way
I will serve her majesty
At the expense of my scratched knee
Happy birthday, Bill
Nicholson
Long ago, your life was done
From '83 to '93
I shared my life with thee
Only fond memories remain
And the culture that I gained
Art films and political thought
Among the gifts that you brought
But the best that I still see
Is the love that you gave me
In me now that love has grown
A gift to others that I've shown
Proof that the only real and lasting thing
Love we're made of and to this world we bring
It may sound a little sappy
But it's simple to become happy
There's the dark night of the soul to live through
When everything's bluer than blue
Come to a deep understanding
That our spirit is equal in standing
And the very core of our being
Is beyond our body, thought and feeling
The deepest is an impulse of love
That comes from heaven above
But that love finds itself trapped
In existential fear it's wrapped
Every moment is a choice
Deciding to listen to which voice.
The illusionary self speaks first
For fear, anger, pride is it's thirst
The spirit answers softly from a deeper place
Love and forgiveness are in it's face
If help from the spirit is sought
The battle can be won before it's fought
Each thought that is thunked
The ego can be debunked
The spirit can come through
Bringing love to all we do
If we control what's in our mind
A happy world is what we find
This may be the simple way
To bring joy to our day
The reverse is also true
If we control what we do
The mind can follow our action
But this is a more complex reaction
Then we're at the mercy of each event
Reacting in fear is harder to prevent
For me, it's easier to watch every thought
If it's not tempered with love, then fear I have
bought
Faith that in spirit,
we're all one
Makes for a simple mission to be done
Join in love with all there is
Ignore the ego, let him have what's his
All the fear, hurt and crap
Is it's illusionary trap
But deeper in this boy
Is the spirit of joy
This is my post for today
Not much going on; not much to say
Need a bookmark; how far down I've been
So I don't go past and read everything again
Repeated shared links and images with text
Confused over who posts before, or next
Many friends sharing the same story
Or, proclaiming those witty sayings with glory
Wondering if the art of prose is dead
Is there an original thought in our head?
Worse yet, sometimes a gobbledygook link
Without a description, what should I think?
Wanting to know what's going on
But your feelings and thoughts; people come on
It's ok as a source of news and inspiration
But I really come here for some human connection
So post that image, photo, or link
But add your own text, so I know what you think
Don't be afraid to say what you feel
In your own words, so I know you're real
I'm out in the sticks; friends rarely I see
Give of yourself, so I can pretend that you love me
Kids back in school this morning?
Bus came round corner without warning
My back road's not wide
I stop on the side
There's room to squeeze by
But that driver does fly
Again I was scared
But this time was spared
Looked back and proceeded
The bus quickly receded
Got to get back in the habit
But didn't see the rabbit
Till it was too late
It met with it's fate
Under my wheels, a crunch
The vultures next lunch
One day it'll be me
That school bus don't see
I'll be off in the ditch
This back road's a bitch
So much that he see's
in this world that is wrong
But not much he can do, except sing his song
It's good to be informed of what's going on
And share opinions from the perspective of Ron
But he can't control; doesn't have magical powers
He needs to take time to smell the flowers
Don't want to be pollyanna
and ignore the pain
But from over-involvement, he must refrain
Acknowledge it, say a prayer and move along
Then get back to singing his song
Changing the world is best done in person
Every encounter offers a lesson
He doesn't need control, or proof that he's right
Just needs to show that love is in his sight
Sing a song of love
from heaven above
Show that we're all one in love
Something in the air last night.
Neither of us slept quite right.
Now we're tired and a bit cranky.
Not up for any hanky panky.
Have to wait for the Dish guy.
Signal weak from the sky.
Maybe the same interference.
Brainwaves don't have headroom clearance.
Nervous energy in our veins.
Sea of electromagnetism
surrounding our brains.
Come on Dish guy, point it right.
So we can watch TV tonight.
A boring show might help us nap.
Our brains could cut through all the crap.
Then we might be in the mood.
Tender moments with my dude.
Four nights off after working eight.
Four nights, ain't it great?
Let's just hope it ain't too late.
After eight nights trained to hesitate.
Away from that PC far too long.
Forgot how to sing that song.
Updating three sites and printing pics.
Technical stuff to get my kicks.
Long nights surfing; such a perk.
Don't have the connection at work.
Might be alone in either place.
But at work I can't see my old dogs face.
On the floor at my feet.
No stupid TV, ain't it
sweet?
When the monitor's signal burns out my head,
He's waiting for me in the bed.
Early to bed is the only way,
With my guy, I get a chance to lay.
Probably can't sleep but I adore,
Listening to him softly snore.
And our six week cycle weekend together,
Time to play, no matter the weather.
Afternoons in the car.
No work; so we can go far.
The city and friends that we know.
More connected, more opportunity,
To be a part of a community.
Eight long nights of isolation.
But four nights now of elation.
Sorry, if I don't comment, or like
your post.
While reading them with my coffee, I give you a toast.
But that goofy 'like' link.
Really does stink.
On my tablet Android.
Of sense, it's devoid.
Takes me to another page.
And fills me with rage.
Or, pops me back to the top.
Makes Facebook
a flop.
Can't ever get through.
My newsfeed
back to you.
So I read with care.
And click like when I dare.
Is that love in your eyes?
Does it take money
Or a day that's sunny
A kind word told
A sight to behold
Is that love in your eyes?
Does it please you
If they don't tease you
Stay out of your way
Have nothing to say
Is that love in your eyes?
Indifference, judgment, fear
Love has no place here
Wanting more than we need
Devouring others in greed
Afraid there's never enough
Buried in all our stuff
Is that love in your eyes?
Nothing gives peace and joy
No wonderful new toy
Even lot's of money
They won't call you honey
Fame, fortune, power
Joy won't flower
Till we see love in your eyes
When
early this morning, poor Bill awakened
He couldn't find the old dog, his heart was shakened
Through the house and outside he searched
In the usual places, she wasn't perched
The old rarely goes far anymore
She's in the house, or just out the back door
With a flashlight, Bill looked everywhere
Finding her dead somewhere was his care
But she just wandered off quite far
He found her sleeping next to his car
Our garage is about 90 feet away
Why she went there, we just can't say
By herself, off the porch, she rarely gets
For this photo, I had to carry her down the steps
My Bill
is a crazy workaholic
With three days off, you'd think he'd frolic
But around the house he likes to creep
Find something new when I wake from my sleep
Cleaning and fixing, things rearranged
Never know what I'll find changed
Mowing, trimming, washing the house
In comparison, I'm just a lazy louse
On the storage trailer, he patches the roof
He's a busy little beaver, all around is the proof
I tell him to take it easy, no one will know
We never have visitors, there's no need to show
But busy he likes to be
And, have a nice place to see
He puts his loving care
Into painting my rocking chair
Sometimes I still wonder. Has life
been a blunder? Still yearn for joy and bliss. Seems there's much I miss. Fleeting glimses of another world.
Sometimes in my heart unfurled. Moments in music, or dance.
Don't want to miss my chance. Sharing an excursion.
Might just be diversion. But with my loved one.
Nothing greater is done. New place, dance, or song.
Won't others come along? Where's the art; the beauty, truth and good. Is it in
my heart; can expressing it be withstood? Moments found with my love. Glimpses of heaven above. But then banality creeps back. A world under attack. Lonely in the crowd.
No joyful song; just loud. Quiet desperation. Or, anxious anticipation. A world filled with fear. Where most don't hold each other dear. Cling to my one
other. But give some room; don't smother. The art is in that joy. Shared moments of greatness with my boy. Together,
driving along. While we play that song. Showing up at that place. Hoping to see
your face. Join us in the dance. An adventurous
romance. Together, the plan is laid. No need to be afraid. Let our
chance not miss. Join us in the bliss. Let's just get along. Together, sing
that love song.
Neuroscience says that many of our
actions come from our unconscious mind. Our conscious mind thinks it decides
but to the earlier, unconscious decision, it is blind. Our long history of
natural and cultural conditioning is in charge. Beyond that, there's the cause
and effect physical process at large. Since the big bang, every particle and
energy wave in our brain has simply reacted to the long train of events. Nothing we can do in our conscious mind,
pre-determination prevents. But those that look at quantum science admit that
it's chaotic and chance. Ghostly particles pop in and out of existence in a
strange loop dance. Some say our stable universe emerges from this uncertain
foundation because of a future great attractor. Those chance misfirings in our brain could be the source of free will
and creativity; making us the director. I say that great attractor is our
future consciousness unified. That state of eternal infinity that we call god;
if somewhat rarefied. All those causes from our past; one particle bouncing off
another. A universe made by a collective ego, from god torn asunder. So
following the so called natural path; reacting to the past, may not always have
merit. The ego always speaks first; that conscious spontaneous question may
just be our holy spirit. That great attractor calls to us through the creative
uncertainty. One day we'll all join with god; it will happen certainly. But
we're free to take the easy way; blindly in the dream, we play. Or, take the
higher road; sooner to find god's abode. So this question of free will boils
down to one. Make our universe of separation last longer, or join in love and
destroy time; god's work will be done.
Within our predetermined fate, we're
free to seperate. Free to take that magic pill that
we believe will cure our ill. Free to choose what we desire, or choose what we
believe we require. But all our choices boil down. Creating
smiles, or maybe a frown. Free to choose further division. Or, join
together with true vision. That vision shows me we're all one. Together in
heaven's already done. But we're free to stretch
out the crazy dream. Turned into a nightmare, it would seem. Stretch it
billions, or trillions of years. Drowning in our tears.
Or, join in love; heal the divide. No longer fear heaven and hide. Time spent
in the dream might shrink. If we just change how we think. One day time and
space will disappear. We'll discover heaven's already
here.
Darkness is not absence of light.
Darkness is a veil made out of nothing.
This world is a jumbled reflection. An expression of collective introspection. Falling asleep,
there was a tiny speck. Part of God's mind that thought, what the heck. Let's
make a universe and hide from our source. Pretend we're the Creators with all
the force. But in divorcing from God's mind. We must pretend we're a different
kind. A universe of seperate souls.
Each one a god, are our goals. Quibble and fight
over that scarce resource. That tiny speck of our true
source. Yet we're still part of God's mind. Though
we've made ourselves blind. God still waits in our dream. Calling us, it
would seem. Work out those differences, so we might see. We're all the same in
reality. A united world would be the evidence. That speck is waking up from the
pretense.
Why don't I just keep my big, fat,
mouth shut? Sometimes I spout off like a stupid nut. But when
I see something here that strikes at my heart. It's hard not to let my
drooling, mouth start. Views that I see, based on better than thee. Or, mean
spirited fare shows me they don't care. To me it looks like those on the other
side, have a very dim view of humanity to hide. There's always some other they must protect themselves from. For inequality, they
beat the drum. The enemy is government, knocking at our door. Or it could be
those free loading poor. The privilege of some they don't see. Coming at the expense of you, or me. Freedom to them, means
alone we must fight. And, some don't deserve an equal right. Let the free
market reign for those smart enough to gain. Or, a married gay might ruin our
day. To me it's the same, in my heart I know. It's based on one big, fat ego.
Some are just better and deserve a better life. The rest of us deserve whatever
our strife. Through our government for equality, don't bother to work.
Government's only job is to protect us from that jerk. But it's pointless to
argue with those who can't see. That ego gets in the way of true equality. I'll
never convince them of my dream. Not practical, or
realistic it would seem. But if we're equal in spirit and come from the same
source, a politics that followed could have real force. Yet, I'm not the one;
don't have the right words to say. I should keep my mouth shut, at least the
rest of today.
My left ear is ringing louder today.
Someone is talking about me they say. But who would be talking about little,
old me? That someone would bother, I just can't see. Likely the ringing I hear
in my head, is just a malfunction in my brain,
instead. Damage from when I drove that big, noisy truck. Or,
working in loud equipment rooms, wtf. Funny
how sometimes it gets quite loud. Nothing I can do to shroud. But I won't let
that annoying, persistent, ringing. Drown out the song in my head that I'm
singing. Maybe the reason that noise is there. So, I'll just sing louder and
not really care. Which song today will I use in this fight? Hey, this one; sing
a tune as I write.
Though the body can become rather shoddy,
the spirit does contain within the brain. I see my old dog behind the fog, of
senses that blur, but it's still her. A changing personality
because of the difficulty. Yet, the familiar remains; same spirit in her
veins. Unless we die quick, most will stick. Cling to life in spite of the
strife. The slow decline; pretend that it's fine. Enjoy what we can, regardless of some plan. Maybe the pain and failing health
is part of some scheme working in stealth. A gentle easing,
though not very pleasing. So, that we will know when
it's time to go. When it's just too terrible, or the
pain unbearable. We won't want to stay; just slip away. Or, it could be
a price that we pay, so our loved ones are prepared for the day. Better than
the shock and surprise of a sudden demise. I choose to believe that the spirit
doesn't leave. It finds a place behind another face. That face could be me, in
our shared memory. But either way, we still have today. The important thing is
the love we bring. Forgive all the pain, there's much to gain. Two souls connection; glimpsed perfection.
Please pray for my poor Bill. He
came home early from work quite ill. He ate a bunch of peanuts last night. And
now, in his tummy there is a big fight. Not much, for my poor boy that I can
do. Except, be quiet, attentive and wait for things to work through.
So I ask again, what difference it
would make? If we discovered the world was a fake. The moon made of cheese
riddled with holes. Occupied by people who looked like moles.
The Cheeseheads have my brain in a jar. Wanting to see if I've advanced very far. Virtual reality is
all that I see. What difference does that make to me? Do I still fight with
your avatar? Over the crumbs inside of the jar. Or, do I join with your virtual ghost? Of our world, do we
make the most? Do we put our brains together. Hack the
program to change the weather. Or, are we afraid to know who we are? Mushy
brains living in a jar. Believe all there is; our virtual reality. Don't try to
make better for you and me. Just fight over who we think is really real. The
world we're stuck in is such a big deal. Or, do we eventually come to find? The
important thing is our mind. Change how we think; minds joined as one. The
world will follow; the Cheesehead's work will be
done. (The Cheesehead scenario is a copyrighted idea
from my book, Journey to Omega)
On TV, part one:Through the Wormhole, this season. Futuristic, intelligent, higher reason. Advanced aliens,
artificial intelligence, humans evolved. Fundamental questions asked, if not
solved. Human; how is it defined? If our species is refined.
Genes from other species mixed. Disease and weakness fixed. Three,
or more parents. Or, two of same sex. Minds uploaded,
seems to perplex. Consciousness;
the key question. Doesn't matter;
physical expression. Whether machine, or advanced hybrid race. Look beyond the
human face. No matter, where we find. Consciousness of the
same mind. But are all minds like ours? What about beings from Mars?
Without a brain, can consciousness arise? Networked, emergent; like a colony of
ants, they surmise. Does awareness require anger, sadness, glee or devotion. Would we be human without emotion? I've proposed
we would be the same. Even if evolved beyond the human name.
Beyond TV, part two: What makes us
human is our mind. No matter if in machine, or hybrid species is where we find.
Yet beyond our human mind; we exist. As long as our
consciousness can persist. Our brain puts consciousness in a particular
form. But our mind can exist beyond the norm. If consciousness is fundamental
to who we are, it doesn't matter if our brain's in a
jar. A brain, we don't even require. Consciousness
is in the heart of every star's fire. The same core emotions;
love and fear. Pushes electrons apart and draws them near. Although it may be hard to see. Consciousness is all we need
to be. If human; not quite. Same
mind; same plight. No need to draw the line. Only complexity,
emerges by design. Dead matter, or living. Same
consciousness; taking and giving. So ask the big question, why are we
here? To come together in love, or seperate
in fear.
Happy Birthday to our nation! A state that promises liberation. Tempered
by responsibility. Balancing equality. Equality under law. Together, we cannot fall. Citizens
united. Equal say provided. Happiness pursued. Sometimes
misconstrued. Freedom, the common dream. In every eye, a gleam. An experiment
brewing, two hundred and thirty seven years. Fruition,
slowly erasing all our fears. True freedom rings. As
everyone sings. United we stand. Together, the happy land.
Maybe I've created my own little
realm. One where my ego isn't always at the helm. It's
not that I don't see all of the asses. But I do try to look through rose
colored glasses. Try as I might, this world I can't change. But much I can do
if I narrow the range. I think I know the answers for the world at large. I'd
make a utopia if you put me in charge. But that just won't happen; my vision
won't sell. Not in a culture based on egocentric
hell. So, I may be right but it don't matter. I'd
rather be happy; no need for the flatter. I work on my thinking; this world
overlook. Join with the vision written of in my book. Lay that little seperated ego aside. Unified consciousness is where I
abide. I leave my ego toys; I'll not play the game. I'm going home where we're
all the same. Equality of spirit, a home filled with love. A
vision of the real world; tasting heaven above.
Trying to change the world is ok.
But it's mostly a game of frustration we play. Most find that by the worlds standards we lose. But there is another world, if we
choose. It may not boast of fortune and fame. And, to most it looks quite lame.
Not a beggar, nor star. Nothing special, by far. Just equality of spirit with every soul. Joining in love is
the only goal. Giving up the petty, little ego,
self is a small price to pay. In touch with our collective mind; peace, joy and
love can rule our day. A new world, we can be on the brink. All we need do is
completely change the way we think. Upon ourselves and others we no longer
judge. A new axis turning, our world will budge. The real miracle is a change
of mind. Ironically, a new world is what we find. When changing ourselves and
not the world is what we seek. Paradoxically, the world changes too, away from
the bleak.
Well, he just left for his second
evening at work. My head was buried in this tablet, like a jerk. I got a
pleasant peck on the cheek and a kind goodbye. But I didn't get up off the
other cheeks to make the moment high. So I didn't get the tight standing hug I
think I need. It might have been nice but it's just another form of my ego's
greed. You see, my ego bargains and love has measure. Confusing love with bodily pleasure. For it, love is an acknowledgment of specialness
that is paid. Sort of like the conquering feeling when all I cared about was
getting laid. But true love doesn't depend on words, or acts that are kind.
True love starts deep in our mind. True love is deep in myself
when no one else can be found. But it just might be easier when there are
others to practice with around. Alone, or together there's still the egos crap.
Specialness and seperateness
is its trap. Looking past the ego deep in our mind.
The unified spirit is what I find. It's made of pure love and joy. It doesn't
need one special boy. And, when I look there and listen to it's
voice. It's a whole lot easier to make the loving choice. A different purpose
for all the ego can make. Nothing but love from
others, I can take. A new world is made out of joy and bliss. A vision of love and profound holiness. So although my
chosen lover has walked out the door, I can still feel his love now presenting
itself in my old dog, sleeping on the floor.
Most of us want others to
acknowledge our existence. So we strive for fame, or
fortune with persistence. Unless we happen to have a nice body, or face. That
attracts others to share our space. Acknowledgment, love and attention we seek.
Without success, money, or looks it seems bleak. But buying love with these
things; fleeting flirtation is all it brings. Fame is fickle and money doesn't
last. Age creeps in and looks fade fast. True
acknowledgment and love comes our way. When all that we have is a kind word to
say. Looking past the outer appearance. See the love
that has real endurance. In every encounter look through to
the soul. Forgive the outer camouflage and they will know. If we see
them for what they truely are, the love we seek will
not be far. It may come from where we least expect, if we treat all with
respect. Everyone we see mirrors our own heart. Seeing only the love is our
part. Some who aren't ready may slip away. Others who crave will want to stay. If we keep love and forgiveness in mind. That love we seek
is ours to find.
Marching down
Yay, the longest day. The sun is up as my
bed, I take. But it'll still be up when I awake. For hours more as I head out
the door. And, join the crowd at Proud Out Loud. It
won't be dark 'till I'm heading back. And, the construction zone gives a heart
attack. Then, the second longest day is coming our way. With any luck, it won't
rain on Pat's truck. Behind the rainbow painted ride, I'll be marching with all
our Pride.
It's hard to be funny on Facebook. Mean, or nasty it may
look. When I think I'm being a clown. Some just see a put down. Try to be
careful about word choice. But some just hear a grating voice. No matter how
light the word; condescension is what's heard. Try to set the right tone. Not
easy, like on the phone. Helps if after the text, a little
graphic comes next. A simple add-on; called an emoticon. It's best to make fun of me, instead of you. In my
case, that's not hard to do. Unless, it's a friend that I
know well. Funny, they should be able to tell. But others shouldn't be
so sensitive. This platform calls for the imperative. Those that really know
me; I think that they can see. Although my humor is shoddy, I don't have a mean
bone in my body.
On vacation; that's the word. Still
have to pick up the old dog's turd. Glad this place
is all laminated floor. Scrubbing it from carpets would be a painful chore.
Around their bowls, the cats are hovering. Frantically
waiting for me to get shoveling. Shovel the $#&+ and then their
chow. Try not to get it mixed up, somehow. Why these stupid cans without the
pull tab? A rim so deep that the opener won't grab.
Slipping and twisting, twice around we go. The cats meowing, "your going too slow". Not sure which makes more stink.
The old dog's crap; no, the cat food I think. It's alright; doesn't really
bother me. Because I'm on vacation, you see.
Two more nights and then some
vacation! Time in the sun; my time for elation. Time for fun and celebration.
Finally got a good days rest, so I
can feel at my best. Energetic and ready to work, so he
won't think that I'm a jerk. But while I slept he cleaned the house, quietly as
a mouse. Scrubbed the bathrooms and cleaned the floor; for me, he didn't leave
anymore. Days he waited with chores on my list. Crabby
and tired, all I did was resist. Hard for me to do my share, when rarely enough
rest to have any care. He understands is what I've been told. But this night
shift schedule is making me old. Helping out; my chance I did miss. Nothing
left but to give him a kiss.
Not again! Only
got about five hours of sleep. That smoke detector made a loud beep.
Changed the battery a month before; when it drowned out my peaceful snore. What
the hell is it trying to say? Making me a crabass
for today. Why this loud repeating sound? Smoke and flames are nowhere
around. Feeling like a hammer and smash! Instead, it's heading for the trash.
Luckily I have one more. 'Till Bill gets another from the
store. Two detectors in this place. Making sure
they're in my face. But they shouldn't disturb the rest I require. Unless there really is a fire.
Facebook is torture; I must confess. To this indifferent world, my heart I
undress. Post that silly picture; make an uproar. Or,
quote someone else my friends will adore. But words from this
soul; if I dare, Facebook doesn't seem to care.
Could be the timing of my post; when it's the realm of the
ghost. Maybe it don't matter if I'm so bold. No
one will see once it's too old. Or words from this mind would be a waste, if they don't fit my friends' taste.
Likely these friends are simply indifferent. They have me set to only
important. So why put my heart out into this cloud, when the reaction makes me
feel like I'm wearing a shroud? Living out in these sticks; my friends I don't
see. The fleeting connection here helps me feel free. But I guess it makes it
easier to speak with clarity. Even if it's only for
posterity.
Knowledge is a good thing but it
only takes us so far. It's best use is in discovering
who we are. Judgment is most un-useful, unless the subject is rudimentary.
Judge the survival issues, or be passive and sedentary. The goal is not to rid
oneself of desire. To be human in this world; it's the one thing we require.
Without the longing and yearning, little we'd achieve. A life as philosophical
zombies would be our reprive.
One goal above all others; change what we yearn for. Experience with vision;
all we can adore. Love everything and everyone might sound like rose colored
glasses. But it's a lot of work; especially when dealing with asses. But if we
love and forgive particularly those we hate. The power of our unity will make
us feel great. One unified spirit is all that we need see. Joined together in
love; God, you and me.
Freaking Facebook
is at it once more. My Ice Cream
Didn't waste my time on this damned Imternet. Got out in the sun;
my free spirit met. Made it partway up the trail with the old
dog. Then layed out in my bikini and burned
like a log. Did a few sit-ups and just for good measure; topped it off with
some push-ups, just for your pleasure. Now to shower and supper then I can
rest. Maybe some time on web I'll invest. But if you don't see me here, I'm
watching the tube. Or, probably passed out on the couch like
a boob.
Another weekend where we're apart. Not gonna let my crybaby start. While he's at
St. Ninian eating ice-cream, I've time before work to
live in my dream. Tone this old body; drag the dog up the trail. Get some sun,
so I don't look so pale. Gonna try a few sit-ups;
wish me luck with that. Need to get rid of this belly fat. We'll be headed to
Vegas, on our vacation soon. Want to look good for the boys at Blue Moon. Then
he can show me off at his side. A trophy partner with little
to hide. Yes, we're an old couple and I'm being silly. But I'm keeping
the fantasy going for me and my Billy
Happy Anniversary, dear! Loving you in our twentieth year. It's been a thrill to be
with you, Bill. It may sound sappy but with you I'm happy. And through these
years you've dried my tears. We share everything. You make my heart sing. It's
you, Bill that I love and adore. Hope we can have at least twenty more.
In my mind I see, a young man filled
with glee. Wakes up every afternoon. On his lips a
tune. An open heart that's waiting. Shared joy;
anticipating. But soon, reality creeps in. This world, he doesn't fit in. Quick glance at the headline. Out there is far from fine. Too old to join the party. So pretends to be a smarty. The
party's too far aground. And, other smart ones can't be found. Just one beloved mate on his way here. Brief moments to hold each other dear.
Tired and needing some rest. His own time; he needs to invest. Join on the
couch in his arm. A few precious moments, safe from harm.
Then off for the long night at the job. The young man sits and becomes a slob.
The fat grows while he sits in the chair. No one around for
him to care. Old age and bitterness bang on the door. Not a shread he lets in anymore. In his head he creates a fantasy
land. The only way he knows how to take a stand. The spirits gather in joy. And
dance with this young boy.
Life out here in the sticks. Not much to do 'cept watch flicks. So I spend
hours daily in the cloud. Trying to find and fit in with the right crowd. But
my friends are scattered all around. Widely varied interests are found. So few who are like me. Look at the world as I see. Don't
want to get into a fight. Too much politics ain't
right. So others like me I seek. A middle aged gay geek.
I join up with the herd. Yes, I'm one, a nerd. But
most are younger and into stuff. The kind I thought; it's a bluff. Not real science, or high minded fare. Comics, games and TV laid bare. Boiling down the interaction; it's all about
physical attraction. Long ago I could sit in a bar. They'd come fluttering
around from near and far. All I have now is my mind. Not what they want to
find. So spend less time in the cloud; attention seeking big baby. Got a few hours to spend with my partner, just maybe. Don't
want to pester him, or get in the way. Help me with these chores, he'll say. But if I help with the drudgery. An extra a hug and closer
we'll be. I won't be here as much; it's been fun. He's out there now; I gotta run.
At work the nights are long. At home
they can seem so wrong. At least, at work there's no connection, tempting me to
risk rejection. Long nights while Bill is asleep, off in the cloud I creep. Searching
for a kindred soul, to share thoughts with is the goal. This ego thinks it has
personality, and knowledge of science and spirituality. A unique combo of deep
things to address; tempered with kindness and
friendliness. But the cloud don't care for that stuff.
Mindless banter is enough. A young, nice body is required, to be appreciated,
or desired. For what sex? I think not. Just association with someone hot. Any attemp
to reach out seems bold, coming from someone so old. The old troll label is put
in place, the moment that they see my face. But I can watch from a distance.
They like a quiet audience. But I won't stay there and be ignored. I'd rather
come down from the cloud and be bored.
Funny how it seems to be, that I
filter everything I see. First to all a noun I give, then attach a verb and
adjective. With every person, place, or thing; feelings and judgment I do
bring. Associations from the past; future predictions cast. Be here now is what
I'm told, makes a different world to behold. With every sighting pause and
blink. I'm in charge of what I think. Leave the baggage at the station. Walk freely through the new nation. Look at
all with open mind. What I thought before; it's not that kind. Without the
filter of my mind, I can see how I was blind. As they really are now, I see
people and things. Peace and love is what it brings. Far away is the fear. In
the light of day, I hold them dear.
Night shift in the boiler room. The TV is nothing but gloom & doom. This life can be quite boring.
Outside non-events leave me snoring. And, it's peaceful at home too. But too
much peace makes me blue. Yet seeking excitement outside, scary; I'd better
hide. The real novelty to find, is somewhere deep in
this mind. It takes some effort to get past the crap, and avoid the ego's
insidious trap. Beyond that feeling of boring blue,
this mind knows what to do. It's all there if I look. The
material for my book. If I wasn't such a lazy jerk, I'd knuckle down and
get back to work. But that bastard ego keeps yelling, "Why bother? The
last ones aren't selling." But the spirit does not care. It says,
"Express me, if you dare."
Up early today so I can go make hay.
But let's not forget. Today, we honor the vet. Thank all those who sacrifice.
Makes living in our country quite nice. Although I disfavor most war and any
form of violence deplore. I still must agree that our vets help make us free. I
honor those who serve and pray that they get what they deserve. So now I'm off
to a celebration that wouldn't happen in every nation. A picnic
with a bunch of gays. Relatively free to enjoy our days.
Love is the paradox. Sometimes it
really rocks. But sometimes it can suck; it seems we've had bad luck. The
hardest lesson for me, is to open my eyes and see.
That indifference and attack, is just a calling for love back. Yes, attention
and adoration, leads me to feel elation. But too much would put me off course;
back up on that very high horse. If they don't seem to care, it gives me a
dare. Break through that worldly stuff; show them
that love is enough. Whatever you think, say, or do; I'm no better, or worse
than you. Beyond our egos that keep us apart. There's pure love deep down in
our heart. Yes, one heart, spirit and mind. Of which, most
are blind. My job is to help us both look. Oh hell, just read my book.
Such a delight to be off work
tonight. Going out to eat.
Can't stop these feet. Then, it's on to the group.
But, the topic throws me for a loop. Heterosexuality married gay men? It's
never been a question of when. Guess I could relate. If I was
born on an earlier date. Then again, it never could sway. I'm just not
built that way. Always known I was gay. Yet I do have to posit. I still have my
own closet. Just that the door is cracked open a little more. No beard to hide
behind. Life has been a little more kind. Don't have to play that game. I'll
just let myself flame
He's doing 2nd shift away at work.
Both cats, the dog; 'round the house, lurk. Plants cry for water; laundry is
waiting. My long night shift, anticipating. Those on their weekends;
sorry to say. No fun in the sun for you, today. But for me, it's the
routine of the working life; domestic chores and all of that strife. Water to rinse off the dirt and sorrow. Clean clothes and
renewed spirit for when I'm off tomorrow. My weekend starts Monday; ready I'll
be. Time with my partner and friends to see. It's not
Schadenfreude but I just can't refrain. I really don't care; let it rain, let
it rain.
How can I keep the evil spirits at
bay? For four long evenings, Bill is away. Gone and left me here all alone. Will be lucky to get a quick text on my phone. Two minds
will struggle. Which one will win? Fearing the worst; no
referee to chime in. Will the poor, pitiful me seize it's
chance? Or, will the great spirit within do it's
dance? Helps to have around an adoring lover. Keeps that demonic ego under cover.
No more than fifteen minutes per
side. The blazing sun roasted my hide. Have to say there is no regret. Though I left behind a pool of sweat. Time
to rinse in the shower. Don't want to be a stink flower. With spirits
lifted, I'm one sun baked boy. The light from heaven filled this heart with
joy.
Want to sun bathe on the deck. Oh a
note; what the heck? Written in sharp, block lettered style. Looks like I'd
better stay in for a while. Short, pleading, a dash in place
of an exclamation point. Need to pass a mop over this joint. Better get
swapping; the boss gets home at four. It better smell clean when he walks
through the door. Don't want his nose running, or eyes turning red. The poor
old dog can't help wetting her bed. Sleeps so deeply; has trouble making it to
the door. Wakes up in a puddle on the floor. So mop
the floor, put the dog in the tub. Then, I can give
myself a sunscreen rub.
Spring is in the air. Cute guys
everywhere. But where is that pretty long hair? It just doesn't seem fair. Back
in my day the sight was eye popping. None of this baggy pants
hip-hopping. Short-shorts and pretty, long hair.
Long, sexy legs is my fair. Harder
these days to feel dandy. Where's my long hair and short-shorts eye
candy?
Up early to have blood drained.
Wishing I could have refrained. Over-cautious doctor ordered the test. Even though I'm feeling my best. At that
age to check PSA. "If you think so", is what I say. Think
young and healthy is my answer. But, my dear Dad died from prostate cancer. I
guess playing it safe is the right way. Seems I'm off on a wild goose chase
today.
Okey dokey, shall we do the hokey pokey? Going to see Smokie. It isn't so
hokey. Not your average beer belly fan. Gonna be with
my sweet man. Big gay bunch from Pridefest.
Nothing but
4 nights off; ain't
it great. Gotta move before it's too late. Get out in the sun and have some
fun. But, stuck in this chair; pulling my hair. Don't like
new look of this stupid Facebook. Everything
that's clicked is getting me ticked. Scrolling down is a futile flop. Making me frown; keeps popping to top. Liking your post
makes the screen toast. And forget the comment box. The screen freezes and
locks. So I'm going out to enjoy the day. Party pooper, Facebook
won't go along and play. Later, when I'm having fun and
happy. I won't post here, if Facebook is still
acting crappy
Face the fear. Don't run & hide.
The storm will clear. Enjoy the ride. Make it there without a care. There
becomes here; minus the fear.
Dancing alone is fun. Attention at
center stage. Celebrate as one. But pride brings rage. Fall off the high place.
Invite the human race.