Such a sad guy here in the shop, lined up for coffee with the rest of us lot, quiet and handsome and lonely at his lips, acknowledging rejection with a sigh before he sips. We see him each day crossing from the Estates, as we holler of politics and slam their hands on our plates. We watched as he fell on his face on the walk. We salute as he stands and picks himself up from the block. His heart has been torn his mind has been worn… His passion was loud for the man who had bound his love at the wrists--those feelings--he took them risks! And he wouldn’t dare try to ever deny that there was nothing to gain, even though from Her he must now abstain.
Sheer desperation as he imagines him in the crowds--in the line-ups--at the bicycle mounds. All around there are others, but…they don’t walk the same…they don’t speak his name…they don’t melt the rain. They don’t scorch his flame. The heart is still creaking—full of love and ache; he obsesses of that moment; that hunger one could never fake: that very first kiss which spoke of stories from afar, spinning volumes, burning down your door!
He was served with the book of changes—brought together to reconnect with their minds. Such a short time and meant to inform of so many stages—quite the treasure this excellent find.
Those tiny Ts, the big arms bulging, the tight ripped jeans, the blue eyes indulging and black n’ white and gray all around, nobody came so close to poetry with each muttered sound. And so lined up for coffee with the rest of us lot, our sad guy here in our lovely little shop, quiet and handsome and lonely as he sips, suddenly forms a smile with those tenderly chapped lips. As a friend and once lover, as a buddy-turned-brother, his bittersweet pleasure upon conceding that: Love--She is endless… and Love--She’s a treasure… allows his soul to drift—to lift—to infinity, the universe’s indomitable gift.
Ldm
Monday, July 30, 2007
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Fire the Grid
Around the corner, just a few blocks north of 1st, I met a woman outside my favourite deli. I had taken my time strolling up the drive, stepping my feet to the rhythm of the various beats, when my headphone suddenly slipped out of its ear just in time for her words to resonate above the city noise I drowned out.
“It is my intention to speak the truth!”
She referred to my headphones—that my smile was what grabbed her intrigue. That the music was contributing to my happiness—that I’ve already accomplished step three!
I hadn’t noticed there was a smile on my face. Normally when I walk I am fairly subdued. However, I did investigate the tattoo on her forearm of a snake eating its own tail. It is a return to an ancient tribal mentality, she explained, where nobody goes hungry and everybody gets cared for. She told me we must return to our ancient knowledge in order to move forward.
Move forward!
Her name was Simoa and a few years back she had drowned with her son in her car when it veered into a lake. Messengers came to her and gave her a plan and in turn she became our catalyst for change.
I listened intently as she spoke clearly and confidently of angels and aliens, science and medicine, God and the Self… She spoke of her child; cradling him underwater in her car, spoke of the voices and the life she helped save. She gave word to the three ways each of us can fire our grid: random acts of kindness, gratitude, and the music that makes us heal! “Write down the cause of your joy! Embrace it as you own the right to do!” She reassured us there are enough resources in the world for everyone to share. That the global council will oversee the building of communities getting what they need. She asked: what do you have to lose on taking the chance of finding your joy for just one hour? The energy will be showered on top of us all. Millions and millions of us blazing the way to change! What do you have to lose when you realize there is no suffering! No more pain! That sin is a concept created by man.
Her story was power that dozens of us were drawn forth to hear. No longer just a self-proclaimed prophet with a doubtful spiel, the longer she spoke the more the message became clear. Energy. For centuries now we have been living in misery brought on by fear. State and religion both had chewed us up and taught us to forget to embrace pleasure…love…gratitude…. Positive thought.
Make no room for negativity. Positive thought is powerful thought!
Here I assumed it’d be another ordinary day, but soon realized that nothing is ever boring on the street on which I live. Mothers and their small children, men with their dogs, twenty-somethings on their bikes or skateboards, elderly couples and teenagers alike, men and women on motorcycles, tourists with coffee cups, more people stood and nodded their heads while Simoa reminded us all that we still have free will to think.
“Be the change you want to see. Change it! A new earth. A new frequency. A new humanity! Do you want to change things?”
Channel the positive and only that, so easy and primal, influential and in desperate need.
Trust only self-empowerment! Bury sin in its own womb. Spread the word and repeat: I am going to help make change. I want the world to improve.
I am going to help make change.
I want the world to improve.
www.firethegrid.org
Ldm
“It is my intention to speak the truth!”
She referred to my headphones—that my smile was what grabbed her intrigue. That the music was contributing to my happiness—that I’ve already accomplished step three!
I hadn’t noticed there was a smile on my face. Normally when I walk I am fairly subdued. However, I did investigate the tattoo on her forearm of a snake eating its own tail. It is a return to an ancient tribal mentality, she explained, where nobody goes hungry and everybody gets cared for. She told me we must return to our ancient knowledge in order to move forward.
Move forward!
Her name was Simoa and a few years back she had drowned with her son in her car when it veered into a lake. Messengers came to her and gave her a plan and in turn she became our catalyst for change.
I listened intently as she spoke clearly and confidently of angels and aliens, science and medicine, God and the Self… She spoke of her child; cradling him underwater in her car, spoke of the voices and the life she helped save. She gave word to the three ways each of us can fire our grid: random acts of kindness, gratitude, and the music that makes us heal! “Write down the cause of your joy! Embrace it as you own the right to do!” She reassured us there are enough resources in the world for everyone to share. That the global council will oversee the building of communities getting what they need. She asked: what do you have to lose on taking the chance of finding your joy for just one hour? The energy will be showered on top of us all. Millions and millions of us blazing the way to change! What do you have to lose when you realize there is no suffering! No more pain! That sin is a concept created by man.
Her story was power that dozens of us were drawn forth to hear. No longer just a self-proclaimed prophet with a doubtful spiel, the longer she spoke the more the message became clear. Energy. For centuries now we have been living in misery brought on by fear. State and religion both had chewed us up and taught us to forget to embrace pleasure…love…gratitude…. Positive thought.
Make no room for negativity. Positive thought is powerful thought!
Here I assumed it’d be another ordinary day, but soon realized that nothing is ever boring on the street on which I live. Mothers and their small children, men with their dogs, twenty-somethings on their bikes or skateboards, elderly couples and teenagers alike, men and women on motorcycles, tourists with coffee cups, more people stood and nodded their heads while Simoa reminded us all that we still have free will to think.
“Be the change you want to see. Change it! A new earth. A new frequency. A new humanity! Do you want to change things?”
Channel the positive and only that, so easy and primal, influential and in desperate need.
Trust only self-empowerment! Bury sin in its own womb. Spread the word and repeat: I am going to help make change. I want the world to improve.
I am going to help make change.
I want the world to improve.
www.firethegrid.org
Ldm
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
tuesday
In suite 513, a man named Gordon sat at his dining room table opening that day’s mail. Without checking the envelope he began reading aloud a letter to his captive audience, a ten-week old boxer named Monty. The puppy sat in the middle of the room, ears perked up, listening attentively. Immediately, Gordon realized that the letter was delivered to him accidentally and should have gone to a neighbor instead, but as he had nothing else to read, he carried on regardless, amused by the scribble.
This is what Monty heard:
Hi Jake,
It’s been a weird day. I couldn’t have predicted this. Initially, I wanted to spend the evening having dinner then checking out that flick with Alan, since he’s in town, but… he never got back to me. I guess he’s busy with his dad. So then I figured since I had the evening free I’d just go to the gym, come home and watch my meditation tapes…two months behind… Well! Talking to Jack earlier in the day, he brought up that we should drink wine and finally get working on our project! That sounded perfect! Move forward…no matter what! So. I get home, eager to get stared, and what happens? I have a flat tire. How irritating! I know how to change my tire and I try, but my iron seems too small. I bike it to the hardware store and the guy argues with me then tries to sell me some ninety-dollar wrench! Not what I want. Finally it occurs to me that I should have called the roadside assistance program I pay for each month!! He comes and pulls my hubcap off with no effort and turns my bolts. Damn it. I could’ve done that! I felt foolish. But in the end Jack and I finally worked on the project! This truly was the beginning of everything we’ve talked about for months now…in one of the most fucked up days of the year. It seems it’s meant to be that way. Emotionally, I’ve been all over the place today. In my last letter I mentioned that… guy to you… We are sort of in a limbo state and I don’t know what I should be feeling. Grief? Or hope? Either way, I know in my gut it will work out for the best, but like I said…I’m not done with him. Can him and I be ‘just’ friends? I don’t know. This is a first for me.
Now it’s pushing midnight. I’m trying to take your advice to sleep more, but it never seems the case. Jack’s left and I am drunk and trying to get my laundry done, but it seems everyone in the building has decided to wash their clothes tonight. Maybe it’s some sort of purge brought on by the moon? Saturn? By Jupiter, that wonderful planet which keeps promising such exciting things…? Who knows? Sometimes I wish I really could place responsibility on astrology, or outer space…for the things I feel, and the things I say, and the things I do….
…the thoughts that fuck up my mind.
In the morning, I now must take my car in to get the tire repaired. Once again I have to get up early and be at the shop before work. This is something I definitely could not have foreseen, and definitely something that cuts into my plan of getting a sound sleep, something that seems to have been lacking for weeks now. How am I ever to make sense of anything this way? Times like this, I really wish I had a good cuss in our foreign tongue! Fuck! What am I to do? I can’t tell you, Jake, how much I am looking forward to unemployment….
And all I really want, of course, is for a certain someone to call. Just to say ‘hi.’ Just to shoot the breeze for a bit and show me he does actually think of me in the middle of the night.
Alas! Such is not so. I know he’s busy tonight anyway. I must dry these wine-stained tears and sign my name before those voices leave me convinced love is nothing but a tragic curse.
I’ll never get any sleep then!
Till next time,
Your ‘wounded’ cousin…
Gordon looked up from the letter and stared straight ahead. Only after a few minutes was he interrupted from his thoughts by the buzzer. Someone was at the door and he rose to find out whom.
Ldm
This is what Monty heard:
Hi Jake,
It’s been a weird day. I couldn’t have predicted this. Initially, I wanted to spend the evening having dinner then checking out that flick with Alan, since he’s in town, but… he never got back to me. I guess he’s busy with his dad. So then I figured since I had the evening free I’d just go to the gym, come home and watch my meditation tapes…two months behind… Well! Talking to Jack earlier in the day, he brought up that we should drink wine and finally get working on our project! That sounded perfect! Move forward…no matter what! So. I get home, eager to get stared, and what happens? I have a flat tire. How irritating! I know how to change my tire and I try, but my iron seems too small. I bike it to the hardware store and the guy argues with me then tries to sell me some ninety-dollar wrench! Not what I want. Finally it occurs to me that I should have called the roadside assistance program I pay for each month!! He comes and pulls my hubcap off with no effort and turns my bolts. Damn it. I could’ve done that! I felt foolish. But in the end Jack and I finally worked on the project! This truly was the beginning of everything we’ve talked about for months now…in one of the most fucked up days of the year. It seems it’s meant to be that way. Emotionally, I’ve been all over the place today. In my last letter I mentioned that… guy to you… We are sort of in a limbo state and I don’t know what I should be feeling. Grief? Or hope? Either way, I know in my gut it will work out for the best, but like I said…I’m not done with him. Can him and I be ‘just’ friends? I don’t know. This is a first for me.
Now it’s pushing midnight. I’m trying to take your advice to sleep more, but it never seems the case. Jack’s left and I am drunk and trying to get my laundry done, but it seems everyone in the building has decided to wash their clothes tonight. Maybe it’s some sort of purge brought on by the moon? Saturn? By Jupiter, that wonderful planet which keeps promising such exciting things…? Who knows? Sometimes I wish I really could place responsibility on astrology, or outer space…for the things I feel, and the things I say, and the things I do….
…the thoughts that fuck up my mind.
In the morning, I now must take my car in to get the tire repaired. Once again I have to get up early and be at the shop before work. This is something I definitely could not have foreseen, and definitely something that cuts into my plan of getting a sound sleep, something that seems to have been lacking for weeks now. How am I ever to make sense of anything this way? Times like this, I really wish I had a good cuss in our foreign tongue! Fuck! What am I to do? I can’t tell you, Jake, how much I am looking forward to unemployment….
And all I really want, of course, is for a certain someone to call. Just to say ‘hi.’ Just to shoot the breeze for a bit and show me he does actually think of me in the middle of the night.
Alas! Such is not so. I know he’s busy tonight anyway. I must dry these wine-stained tears and sign my name before those voices leave me convinced love is nothing but a tragic curse.
I’ll never get any sleep then!
Till next time,
Your ‘wounded’ cousin…
Gordon looked up from the letter and stared straight ahead. Only after a few minutes was he interrupted from his thoughts by the buzzer. Someone was at the door and he rose to find out whom.
Ldm
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