moons and muses

I am a mirror. Mirror mirror on the wall. This is a form of free-writing. Cappino. Or maybe that's not how you spell it. I just have to fly away. Write. You are writing for me. That is your job. For I have commissioned you.

A man's walking down the street. Do things differently from the way you're used to them: things that, if practiced, will enhance your entire worldview and sense of Self.

1. Listen to the words of songs before or through the music (under, over, in place of--tune into the music, lose the human; tune into the human, lose the music).

2. Push yourself to inspiring, challenging, radical, humorous and revolutionary ideas.

3. Commit yoursef, dare your Self, your new reborn self, to act on one of these ideas. They are inspired. Remember, you are not just you. And so, you are never alone. I love you. You love you.

4. Remember it is all inside yourself. Every answer. Every prayer that you used to pray. Every question you have ever sought to be answered. Every observer, every object. Everything. An infinite realm of epiphanies.

5. Reach higher. You shot for the stars and the moon's responding.

6. Eventually, you'll reach the stars.

7. Love every moment. Live every moment. "Lovin' is (what I've got)."

8. Greet the Sun.

9. Greet the Moon.

10. Say your prayers (you know that this, while uncharacteristic of your reborn self, is possible, since at one time in your life it was characteristic of you).

11. Listen to your inner ear.

12. Look at your inner eye.

13. Look at your outer eyes.

14. Talk to yourself; get a tape recorder and record everything. This is your material that you feel compelled to share.

15. Organize your things (you know, also, at one time in your life, you were a master of organization; innately, you are).

16. Admire your things as you're putting them away (this also).

17. Imagine your life path ahead of you, as you realize what is being dissolved in you that prevents you from seeing yourself as perfect as you are. Imagine your home, the people that live with and visit you in this life--growing in the extent of your empathy for everyone and everything within and without what you may call your home. Thus extending yourself, your home will extend itself. All grows and returns to its source.

18. Basically, give voice to your inner child Self. Give him his dignity. Here's a possible scenario: He's still waiting. Say, "Jory, I love you." That Jory is only that Jory. He doesn't know what you know about him. You are his god. The one he prays incessantly to. Heal him. Only you have the power to do this (and you are going to write a book for children, called, "I know you're in there!"; giving kids of all ages the instructions on how to rescue their past selves, tools for integrating themselves into themselves).

19. Thank you, really, thank yourself. "Pat yourself on the back," as your second grade teacher Mrs. Kinman used to say.

20. Remember a name, a date, a word, a quotation, a specific detail about anything.

21. Make a plan.

22. Cleanse as often as you are reborn.

23. Practice deep breathing.

24. Sit up straight.

25. Meditate.

26. Remember, doing isn't scary. The thought of doing is scary. So stop thinking and start doing.

27. Eat more raw food than sweets. Keep a tally list with you, and check off only those foods that are on the list. And you will not eat anything that's not on the list. "Or you will never heal yourself," say audibly to yourself.

28. Go a week without looking at yourself once in the mirror.

29. Erase thoughts of guilt as soon as they come.

30. Write a song.

31. Don't think about making a zine. Just put it together.

32. Let it all flow.

33. And so it is.

"Let Myself be Aware"

let myself be aware in this moment that i do not need to be aware
in order for everything to operate functionally, i am
part of all that is, in form or not. may my thoughts not impede
the progress of the circuit being completed through me,
an ark being constructed, in preparation for some preconceived
Global Flood of consciousness. infuse me, o nameless, o many names,
o collective and singular being(s) (am i praying to the billions of cycling
cells, phasing through receptors, transmitting photons, wiggling strands of pseudo-quantified DNA?)
infuse me with the energy that I Am, that Eye Am, We are, expressing solidarity through symbiosis,
a unity of purpose as all organisms contained herein, in whatever we are-at, to construct a new earth, what seems to be
the real "new world order,"

Are there such things, "anymore," as "too arrogant," and "too humble"?

Each cell screams, "hallelujah!," and how can I deny it?

A feeling, expressed or unexpressed: Suspend an awareness that has been recently popping into myself that....

ode to creation

new nameless created thing, thus naming you i dedicate this to you to be and to have fun with your other names in a not-so-distant game where you can go back and forth, in any directions, in your dream, creating new ones, and know that you were somehow connected to me. although you may forget who or what i am, you will nevertheless always have me in you, and you will jump, or do whatever you do, when you experience the light for your first time, and you will slowly remember me and love yourself as a result, or perhaps i will be entirely surprised.

illumination

something happening with neptune that i don't know about, yet some new-agey philanthropist shouts this at me because people in touch are supposed to know these things, and my mind, though unable to send a verbal message to my mouth, is pouring into the canyon in my chest, and i wonder what negative black space, what satanic metaphor, is holding me down, still, after all these years, and, nails thick, pressing into my skin like bamboo torture, and out of breath for doing nothing, i flip open to a page of blake's illuminations and wonder at what point jerusalem's restoration was inevitable, if it was in yahweh's stars, or if that city could have ended when it wasn't on the map, snuffed out by all the world.

roasted mozzerella

while walking at night on alberta, we imagine what we might do tonight. do you drink, she says, and says, i don't, and i say i like wine, and then we find ourselves paused under a sign of a closed wine merchant. later, i remember the other day in whole foods. a clank stops the crowd, an event i, while sampling what i think was called roasted mozzerella, but is actually just some herbed pasta, witness right in front of me: a young woman, serene and bright, replaces a bottle of wine from the tile floor. that's a ton of good luck right there, when you drop a wine bottle and it doesn't break, the clerk says. and i leave the store without buying anything.

want is need

someone is squeezing the hose, you become aware of it in your heart, and constricted, you cannot take it. that's physics, it says, the physics of water, and it has to flow, and that green wall, plastic and opaque, will not hold me back for long.

an ark key

more than a clever pun, it comes into me, and i never do anything with it but say it a few times, liking its associations. it makes a good store name, you say, or maybe a book. it seems like it should be a book of verse, if should exists, in an indie shop. then, one day down the road, you decide (you think randomly) to walk into a zine shop on the haight when you are thinking of the arc concept, and there on the shelf is an anthropology of anarchy-inspired poetry called, An Ark Key.