Monday, October 30, 2006




I hear a ticking grow,
In the midnight dusk between days,
From within my bedroom,
Of the lamp round living room way.

By time is it seen,
By timed light I know
Which hour has come
Then decides to go.

It’s between the walls
From me to you
That defeats the stillness
For what’s old is new.

In the morning,
Through to tonight,
This long life of afternoon,
A migrating great wide bird,
In flight.


Musings on Temperance
IMAGE from Aquarian Tarot
by Craig Junjulas
U. S. Games ISBN 0880795921


This card heralds a time of complete freedom, wholeness, peace, and fulfillment.
Since the Temperance card follows Death, it is a symbol of new beginnings and new life.
In the Hanged Man we encounter the crisis of the ego no longer working for us; in Death we surrender the ego; and lastly, in Temperance we find our true self, our Highest Self.
This card reminds us to trust our higher guidance and to find balance within in order to find it without.
To me, the Temperance card is confirmation that I am open and receptive to the universe and that the lines of communication are clear.
Our goal is to embody our Higher Self, to live fully in peace and harmony in the world around us, and to instill peace within others.
Our society gets stuck in the social norms; owning beautiful things, how much we make a year, being eternally youthful, etc. when all that truly matters is not how long you live your life, nor how much you experience, but how deeply you experience it.
The Temperance card is your guardian angel, asking you to open up and express your anger, pain, resentment, as well as your love, happiness and encouragement.
Your guardian angel is asking you to let go of all the things bothering you, letting you know that it will take care of everything.
It's as simple as saying, "I surrender to my Highest Power," and feeling free.


Flare Shot Cross Darkwaters

Horizon flare

The Mother Of God
by William Butler Yeats

THE threefold terror of love; a fallen flare
Through the hollow of an ear;
Wings beating about the room;
The terror of all terrors that I bore
The Heavens in my womb.
Had I not found content among the shows
Every common woman knows,
Chimney corner, garden walk,
Or rocky cistern where we tread the clothes
And gather all the talk?
What is this flesh I purchased with my pains,
This fallen star my milk sustains,
This love that makes my heart's blood stop
Or strikes a Sudden chill into my bones
And bids my hair stand up?

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Two Around Vi


There are times in a life
When you gloss over with rain.
The Thunder sounds from mouths around,
Eyes flash lightning in the dark.

But you smile.
You see.
There’s this breath, and me.

Only some sigh significantly.
Some hold still.
To know nothing
With a quiet will,
And so know calm.

(And) (So)
On and On,
With a hand holding mine
Or not.
Not to be forgot,
The times in a life.

Blithe Spirit.
Jack Benny.
Heads up, not tails,
Is a lucky penny.

I have a garden.
It's ready to go,
To sleep through winter
Under the snow,
To seed,
To stir,
To bloom after the brrrrrr.
To grow in my land,
By my hand,
A partnership free in bondage,
A relationship with bounds,
A degree of decree,
Between life and me.

I want an old Subaru.
A “poor man’s hybrid”
As Al did say.
I’ve ran my V8 Ford through thousands
Of miles, hearing John Lee
Hooker slight that streaming
Gravel Road.

I’ve been young,
I’ve been old.
I remember what I’ve been told,
What dreams I’ve sold,
What lead was gold,
If not all I’ve ever said.

And good morning,
And to bed.
I’m happy in this revolution’s thread.

Let it turn,
Let it turn me,
Let us each mark our passing.

I’m not slowing down.
I’m not losing steam.

Each day it begins,
My past,
My dreams,
My now-ward thrust.

To Make, To Here, To This, To ______.

You are Beautiful.

Beautiful View/ Luna/ Pup Tent/ 1997

Evergreens that lose their needles
Annually, Anyway.

“You're coming out of your shell,
You’re gonna shake it off.”

Enjoy the mix.
Mix your own drinks.

How many aspects of life
Don't actually revolve around love?

When the bass hits,
In home or on the street.

How much room of context,
Context room,
Lies between momentary
Emotional satisfaction and
The survival of the species?

Turn up the Base,
And listen to your favorite,
Listen to you.

As I feel, as you feel,
Agreement must come.

From the divine right of kings,
From the biggest club in the tribe,
To what?
What contract of sociality,
Are we to become?

How to turn instinct to the long view.

Who has the answer written well out?
Who has the messianic meme virus
To save our souls so efficiently?

We are moving beyond spell check.

If anything at all can exist outside of love.

All is defined by degrees
Of hot and cold,
Shadow and light.

We are you,
You are half.

So maybe it all just rides
Not on what we define our belief,
But how much actual work gets done.

It’s the homework afterall.

Achieve, believe, re-live.

e v e

Monday, October 23, 2006

"People Get Sick"


People get sick

People get sick
and we want them to get better,
but we also want them dead.
They live, and it's more of the same.
How we hate our wish to kill
what we cease to care for,
unwilling to bend. Cloak our weakness
in another's dazzling end.
Our mourning faces court the upset
due to us for lasting.
The single breath is ours.
We grab it, snuff the competition,
one less call to make or card to send.

Connections make us
want to fall in love,
even as our arms blast up to block its hasty approach.
We see our needy doubles in their mirrored eyes,
cast them out to blind in thistle-patch,
then lick away the scratches on their faces,
mad about ourselves. We flaunt the bait,
performing lonely, finding out too late
the act has worked. The merge occurred,
and we must do the time
or, breaking out,
shoot the wives and husbands,
drive the children into lakes.

War is hell, so we lament it,
grab for peace
like nature wants it for us.
We, the blessed, arrange
our words in suitable ritual order,
spinning tales inscribed on plaques
at bases of status we hunger to topple.
Who dare speak revolution?
aware we are among those who would lose
their lives (or are we?),
loyalties concealed behind our upheld hands,
warming at the crater's smoking orange edge.

—Barry Perlman

thanks, astrobarry

Thursday, October 19, 2006

'Please Let Me Drive You Home'

J. Hammond



Well that will make for some
interesting shit there.

(it's called my attic)

Get down with the hassel.
Listen to some John Hammond.

Shelter shell been gone so long,
in your arms again -track10
Been gone so long.

What quality of fires burns for me?
What strange smell,
What Destiny?
, like a period beginning a sentence,
the hour clicks silently.

Come wrath,
Come the world's destiny
(yeah I said it again)

I say I love you for sin.

let us, let's, lettuce

now how's that for twist gen X
stoner e.e. cummings?

Can you here the clicking?
(yeah I said it again)
That rail pronounced
By machine,
By man,
By wind and steel,
As we only are after all.

We breathing dreamers,
We shadows in the sun,
We spinning earths in our eyeball,
Our Sigh Bees a deadly thing.

Pray for Rhyme,
Pray for history,
That we may know the future,
Before it's due.

Before the flu,
Before the clue,
Before Xanu,
Before we forget,


before the comma