Open space is unlimited. Guilty. Who will be paying time, paying penitence? Is penitence what any of us need? I just need a few simple things to trust. What will help time stop slipping through my fingers?

Going their own way all minds meet in that center of the void where they each separately awaken with core energy filling the room, re-dreaming someone else’s dreams left behind. Collective thought lay somewhere near. It is unique to them, the small I and the big I. Where do I to find the pieces?

 Parts have been measured out in mugs of paint and cans of coffee and in the breaking of a porcelain toothpick holder in the shape of an iron, in the bondage of short days wishing for spring while savoring winters work.  Measured by helping stray animal and orphaned colors no one else would give a second look to. Dying the fabric of results and covering the wounds that the product exposes even as the processes’ pain is hidden from my view.  Finding others to hold up even as I kick aside my own work and lose myself for moments at a time only to round the corner to find that I never left my own private studio. Creativity has never been a convenient thing. It does not enable super human strength, assuage the need for sleep or automatically come with a paycheck.  It dwells in the deepest part of the pile with its head and hands exposed, ever waving for attention with a slow burn that is never exhausted nor satisfied.

Is someone haranguing salvation really what we need?

How do you figure?

The fugitive kind, the ones that got away. A fish story? Everyone’s got one. Surrender is a powerful tool. Surrender physical, eventually the mind will follow.

I do go on.


Choka # 53
It will be ignored
The surrealistic crutches
Broke in the corner
A mathematical puzzle
Bubble multiverse
Cradles of bifurcation

Tee-Ninie Tim’s view
Once above head and shoulders
Is now his own/ly
He no longer hears the call
Forgotten crutches
Flimsily veiled do-hikies
Of life’s challenges
Way beyond the repairing

In the forgetting
The fence has locked shut and reads
Do not enter here
By thinking you ignore it
You are defeated
It’s the same as forgetting
And then atta-boy
Yourself for not ‘membering
But in the congrats
Remember what you wanted
to always forget
All he had to do was look
Into new corners
Dream a new algorithm
And figure it out

Two of the ten directions
Asking whom to blame
Two lines drawn point up and down
He did not do it
It is rarely that simple
While he was looking
Down gently organizing
We were looking up
Organizing against him
All we need is love, love, (beat)
All we need is love