WE took the stairs two at a time
like young fools hurrying into the unknown
we even laughed at our own daring
our own brave foolishness
we entered the purple vault
and there I took her in my arms
and I threw her robe to the floor
in a moment we were on the floor as well
and that's all I will say about that
oh life
don't ever let me lose this stupidity that blesses me so
I want to run to each treasure brave and wild
I want to cast off my own robe
ravished and mad for as long as I live
and rise up to heaven upon a swan
from inside of the purple vault
MAY all be peaceful in heart and pure in mind, and in doing so elevate the level of kindness and compassion in the world.
THE mushrooms kick in and your brain grows feathery wings
And flies right out of the window, into the exploding green sky.
Your hear bassoons and oboes. Someone is singing the poems
Of Emily Dickinson quite loudly, and without any particle melody.
The smell of french fries. Aah. And flowers fly beside you
Like small birds. Chirping. Any hard feelings you were harboring
Are now gone. You love your enemies, just like Jesus said.
You are walking, no, you are flying, no, you are swimming
And the street has become a river. Today has become tomorrow.
Now Jesus is here, and he brought french fries. Let's run.
No, let's dance. Let's release all of the balloons.
I regret all the times I was a smug bastard. And I forgive myself for it.
HE died, and they left his ancient tiller out in the field. God knows where he got it, or when. The tiller had the look of The Great Depression. So did he. An absurd haircut. Every shirt button was always buttoned. Years later, growing old myself, I drove past the place. The frame house was gone and the tiller was rusted out, sitting under the lone oak tree in the middle of the field. “It all starts with turning the soil, boy.” He used to tell me that.
MAY all be peaceful in heart and pure in mind, and in doing so elevate the level of kindness and compassion in the world.
WHEN I change out my conure's birdseed I scattered the old seed out by our jasmine. Right this moment sparrows have gathered to eat the seed and my dog is watching them through the glass patio door. I have a nice coffee and Gary Snyder's translations of Hanshan.
I intend to live in this world, not merely walk around on it, enduring. I’ve endured enough. We all have. A lot of us spend most of our years enduring while making money for someone else, someone who already has money. I’m done with that. Timothy Leary was at a little bit right; drop out. Yesterday is gone and tomorrow is a crapshoot. Why worry about tomorrow? And no more nostalgia, the past is flatulence on a windy day, gone. As I write it is a Tuesday afternoon in the fall and I am alive. I’ll start with that.
jobe
thank you 🙏🏼