And I Picked For Her Wildflowers...

There are many pieces to the puzzle. A mosaic is comprised of diversity. At times, anger is prominent. The writer is fueled by emotion. Emotion is raw energy--unfiltered. You can become an unstoppable river of Power, but have you mastered Trust? 
Energy can be spiteful, can be anxious, can be desperate. Do you trust your ability to let go, to succumb to Fate? There is a wise flow, unknown, and it sings. Its music has ushered Poetry into existence for centuries. W/o trust, the writer cannot write. The words will not come if there is a palpable lack of faith--and nothing can hide from this Eye. It has been viewed as dangerous to believe in extraordinary guidance. But isn't that a rather mundane perspective?
~

Simple bouquet
Purple, white, yellow
Wildflowers from a meadow

Natural bouquet
To a girl
from her fellow

Gathered where
the breeze is
lilac and honeysuckle

Sweet symphony of sensation
Sensorium of Nature
Hand-picked and transplanted

Become enraptured, my Sweet,
and unfurl along the light,
the lofty zones of Imagination.

Build A Statue To Honor Marshall McLuhan

Suppress the truth
w/ entertainment

Give them a tube
to suck media thru

Make spectacle
ordinary

Give them violence and sex,
rape, murder, incest--

If it's the news
running thru their head

they'll be insensitive
to it on the street.

when they see their brother
beaten-down and suff'ring

they won't entertain
a second glance

do away w/ subtlety
destroy nuance

bludgeon them
in the head

w/ advertisements,
obligate them to buy more

if they don't,
they will feel poor!

even tho there's green water
snaking thru the canyon

eagles gleaming
in noon-day sun

azure sea
and crystal sky

words will fly
until i die

and then another
will soar

from where my horizon
broke

Between The Lines..

I am the lizard
sunning my belly--
belly of the bard.
have fun in the city,
have soul in the country.
these answers are yours
dispense w/ them wisely.


I remember singing hymnals
in the green carpet pues
i first learned to smell
hypocrisy, there.
i actually believed
i was praising my savior--
i felt a connection
to the Infinite,
and i'm still in dismay
at the audacity of Christians.

i can only write these odes
to misery, to ecstasy.
they are my flights of pure
Reality.
nothing skewed or censored.

a glimpse of raw music

a primal beat
a primal heart
society was
doomed from the start

too much diversity
to standardize Reality

we reject your pills to
keep us numb

if we don't feel
we'd sooner die

than live
a lie

give me pain
give me tragedy

you can keep your TV
and the vegetable morass

when i die
i will be free

Death will only consummate
my authenticity...

A Day In The Life

Dew-wet grass dampens my feet,
green blades slide underneath--
I walk the lawn w/ a puppy
who better pee!

Our home is not a
Sanctuary of Waste,
but you wouldn't know it
lately.

If she wasn't so lively and sweet,
if I didn't admire her playful tenacity,
if I wasn't softened by her head-nuzzling--
O Earth-Mother help me!

But I gain a sense of peace
from the song-bird choir,
my environment blazing green,
alive w/ color!

In living color, I breathe.
Forget reticence in Poetry.
You need an occasion just to speak?
Does mundane blood flow thru your veins?

I think not, Human!
Grow up, Child!
Still, cultivate your Imagination.
Solve moral conundrums

at the workshop
in your head.
All the knowledge of Evolution
resides in your head.

Meditation Is A Stoic Statue...

Meditation is a
stoic statue
w/ interior locomotion.

Serene is
spangling emerald river
unabashedly flowing.

There's a peace
to be found
in the chaos never-ending.

Succumb to
the Wisdom Design,
and laugh at the illusion of control.

There is a flow
which carved
thru Mountains.

If you are struggling
to find an answer--
go to the river.

Forget the human oracles
unless they are preaching:
Explore yourself and actualize the discovery.

Only you can discover
your gift--
others may be able to see it in you.

There is an eye
under this skin--
plug-in!
~
People judge me like
I'm the blue-ribbon pig
of the fair.

To the shareholders
and stockbrokers,
my talents are gross to witness.

But the goodly country folk
award my brutal honesty, and
encourage my triumph.

I'm not afraid to 
roll 'round in the muck
because I get super clean.

Beware my gleam
in the summer sun
w/ the river unreeling.

They are not my constituents
who attempt to misconstrue
the image of the Mountains.

I must restore Pride
and Joy
to the fertile soil.

Imagine what may bloom!
Appreciate the simple boon
of breath and blood.

What if Mountaineers
again
revered these hills?

What if we fought
Big Coal and 
Big Pharma?

Grow 
your backbones
tall!

If we don't change and
adapt,
we'll be left for dead.

Coal towns are
ghost towns who
don't accept and evolve.

Pills are a 
numbing agent
to keep you dull and docile.

Hollow tyrants 
w/ vaults full of currency,
are afraid of Creativity.

Think beyond
and change the world
or die in the shadows

of changeable decadence.

Earth Day 2013

We will learn to work the fields,
give energy,
and energy yield.

I have heard the river call:
I am Power,
Hear me roar!

Be humbled by the verses writ
on sweet green grass, and
purplish ocher leaves.

Messages swim in the streams--
plant your heart in fertile soil,
bloom will Dreams!

Materials only mean
what we
assign to them.

The value of honesty
is inherent
in the deed.
~

In keeping w/ this theme (honesty), I have prepared a self-interview about the Sensual Parade. I have one chance on this earth, here's my perspective--here's my contribution to the cause. This is in the name of Progress.  We must prevail as one, or separations will result in continual turmoil.

-What is the Sensual Parade?

-As you know, there have been many ‘isms’ in Poetry. There have been many movements. The Sensual Parade is the next step in our journey. It is the perspective of my float. It is nothing I own, it’s just what I was given. I have the power and opportunity to create it in my own image.

-I see. So this is a process of becoming?

-Absolutely. This is about growth. This is about enduring the pain of growth to reach the peaks of your ambition. When you ascertain those heights, everything else dissolves, and you are purely ecstatic!

These poems are written in blood-letters. I guess I really like how Nietzsche says his works are for all and none. The Soul is Universal, but not everyone is aware of it. Potentially, his works, my works, are for everyone. But I think there is a consensus among eagles that we are made this way, and others are made that way. There is no rational explanation for the way Life unfolds. There is no grand answer to all the riddles of the world. Whether it is biology, or environment, or some supreme amalgamation of both of those forces combining to form who we are, we will never really know.

-So the Sensual Parade is about the ways to discover Soul?

-Yes. To quote Blake, “Man has no Body distinct from his Soul, for that called Body is a portion of Soul discerned by the five Senses, the chief inlets of Soul in this age”.

I use my senses to reach that place which is truly ineffable. It is within, it is without. It is all around and nowhere at all. Whatever it is, it is the source of Life. Not just human life, but in general. Perhaps not everyone is supposed to be aware of that ultimate depth, but these poems are written for all those that are.

I don’t write for anybody but eagles.

I am not being pretentious, I am being honest. Some will mistake me for things that I am not, but I cannot see for them. I cannot shove perspective onto them. I am compelled to offer.

And besides, I cannot worry about those that mistake or misunderstand me. Those are not the ones that matter. The people around me that are kindred and dear are the reason I continue on. They are the reason I overcome the struggle. I don’t enjoy Life so much that I do this just to live. I do it to elevate my dear ones out of the muck. I do it to spread ecstasy and love. I do it because my life-force is inexhaustible, and I am a sanguine darling of this earth! I revel in the release of pain and pressure. And though sometimes I am wounded, my skin is blessed with sanguine resilience. I draw balm from a subterranean well.

This is for the lovers, the dreamers, the people that see beyond the cultural veil! Where you grow-up is not a boundary-line for your evolution. To become authentic you must relinquish ties to all things that do not nourish you, and give you the feeling—Yes! This is me!

When you do that, you are free. Nobody or nothing holds prominence over you. You could be a janitor or a president, but as long as you are in it wholly, you are king!

Ink & Scroll Still Thrive In the Digital Age

There is a process to writing. Each writer has a different style of doing it. The important thing is to find your's and use it--that's when you become efficient in getting your message out to the reader. It becomes real, natural, smooth~

I'm still new to blogging. Daily, I become more attuned to the tech-tools at my disposal. I'm a classic Poet--my Metamorphosis was nurtured early on the heady milk of the Romantics. For a while, I thought Blake had already recorded every message I desired to. I stayed diligent, and the unknown forces at-play sent me my own words to say. (Perhaps they were already written for me).

I started-out practically copying Goethe and Nietzsche. The style and vigor of their language caused me to swoon for days, and wake-up w/ ink on my face! If you've never read Faust or Thus Spoke Zarathustra, and you want to know what the word masterpiece means, you must set aside time to succumb to their mastery.

It began on notebooks w/ pens. And it was Philosophy--spouting about Nietzsche and Blake. Hero-worship. And then I got it. I don't mean intellectually. That wasn't their message. It was something visceral--an urge to trust my instincts and write my truth and beauty. Your duty is to balance either side, but remember: Passion is your vitality.

W/ a pen, words flow effortlessly. The Infinite Universe would cackle madly if I was seriously trying! I act from the information my senses continuously gather. To some information, you have a natural attraction. Still yet, some information repulses you. This too is only natural. It is alright to admit repulsion. Only then can you discover your hang-up. The key is to accept your repulsion, and let it go. Stay focused on the things which exhilarate you, and you'll find peace and positivity.

I've transplanted this information from my scroll, onto my blog. My process begins w/ a tactile approach. I enjoy holding a leather-bound book--reading then becomes a sensual experience. Although computers--from desktops to tablets--allow us to share information at light-speed. The speed at which we can develop networks has been the greatest allure for me to become more tech-savvy. The writing itself must be sensual. Feel this resonance. The juxtaposition of words and images is easy on the internet. Pictures reinforce your actual message, and you can Google an image of anything!

It's late. I have work in the morning. And I need to take the dog outside. At least I can watch the moon and stars sickle the black night.