Mortaljive: The Rest is Silence

There is no still point in all the Universe, and that is the rock upon which I stand

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Just Like This


i was thinking
it might be fun
to close my eyes
and start to hum
like this:
full of bliss

i didn't need
to fix a thing
just closed my eyes
and silently sing
like this
just like this

i heard the train
the horn it blows
if you stand too close
it will crush your toes
like this
best if it miss

oh, empty mind, oh empty sky
empty emptiness, my oh my
like this
just like this

***

Saturday, November 24, 2012

Death Tra-la





You don't have to joke about death
to experience the punchline...

***

Friday, November 23, 2012

Romantic, isn't it...


love is like a series of dark clouds
that make you shut up
and go to bed

***

Saturday, November 17, 2012

The end of the ride


everything that dies is given a number
and told to go stand in a line
the line is so long you can't see its end
it's lost in the mists of time

death ain't nobody, death ain't no thing
you can bring it but it leaves alone
ain't got no address, it's everywhere
don't need a light on, it will find your home

i am the bed of the world
i am the hole in the sky
i am the bear hug from the other side
when you stop breathing I will be leaving
i will get off at the end of the ride
i will get off at the end of the ride


death is the friend of a friend of mine
everyone knows it or they will some day
don't need no formal invitation to tag along
better listen, it will have its say:

how many birds have you seen fly?
how many fish in the sea?
how many children singing nursery rhymes?
all of them will cease to be

i am the bed of the world
i am the hole in the sky
i am the bear hug from the other side
when you stop breathing I will be leaving
i will get off at the end of the ride
i will get off at the end of the ride

i love it when you smile, or just when you sleep
your hair, and your bottomless eyes
i feel your skin, again and again
and all i can do is sigh

we're thinking about a trip to the desert
in the spring, after the snow
me and my baby and a sack of bones
me and my baby will go


i am the bed of the world
i am the hole in the sky
i am the bear hug from the other side
when you stop breathing I will be leaving
i will get off at the end of the ride
i will get off at the end of the ride



***

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Sensation


“I find that the sensation of myself as an ego inside a bag of skin is really a hallucination.” 
― Alan Wilson Watts

***

Saturday, November 10, 2012

You already know this



be it known that the dead clutter the sidewalks
but for the wind and rain 
we would gambol like sandpipers
among the slender bones of the leaves
careening about the shore-break;
death is everywhere apparent:
autumn's gift to winter's sorrow
we cannot dodge each lapping wave

we think of ghosts as other
but we are ghosts in training
our vanishing a promise perfected,
we look back at the now bare trees
our bones of bark, our mother/father
what are we but the falling?

the cemetery of the forest
is also the maternity ward--
the place of seeds and rot
growth and decay
these twins do not peer through glass at each other
they are each other
they do not segregate their prayers
or stand in different doorways
waiting to be let in--
they are in

poor sad and idle thoughts!
poor relations to the cause!
you can't unbend the rivers
or unbuild the sky
better to be laid in the ground
better to stop pretending
much more is the find
much more is the heaven
that rots inside you
building ramps from hell to paradise
 and back again!

in autumn there are mists
but only for a time--
is eternity so opaque
as to defy our witness?
no, yes, no, yes?

lift up the fallen leaves
feel the moist earth
shake hands with your own shadow
tremble with the cold
smile with your secret:
your secret is safe

***

Saturday, November 03, 2012

The Old Man Part IV



they found him in a wheelchair
out on the 99
he was flipping off the traffic
as a way to kill the time
the rain came down in buckets
and he began to fade
like the leaves of trees in Autumn
he fell into the grave

as he waited in the casket
that was the mother earth
he thought about his value
and what his life was worth
he tried to put in numbers
his own atomic weight
added to the data
as accounted by his fate

"did i move mountains?" he wondered
"or still the savage seas?
did i tower into heaven
above the tallest trees?
did i move the congregation
to their feet with great emotion?
did i conjure up the spirits
with many artful potions?"

"was i good to fellow people
to strangers and to friends
did i love as best i could
or did i crash it in the end?
did i see the world in light alone
without squinting in the shadows?
did i trust the mystery
or drown it in the shallows?"
 the old man saw the sun at last
dipping in the west
his grave was cold and damp
he began to heave his chest
the rattle of his aching lungs
the smell of death's dark stew
he clawed the air so weakly
it was all that he could do

that night it came in silence
with the ceasing of his breath
the one thing most assured in life
is the coming of one's death
and here in Autumn are the signs
that speak to one and all:
climb, you might, to greatest heights
there will but come a fall

one last trick the old man made
one last sweet deception
he gave his body back to earth
and did not seek exception
the greatest thing decided
in the vapors at his ending:
"i am not separate from this
i am the never ending"

***

Thursday, November 01, 2012

It's Just You and Me



the oceans are rising, and the winds are so fierce--
listen to the poets and wait for the verse...
the anchorman's sweating
there are stars in the rain
shoot for the highway
and drown on the plain

oh, america
oh, america
it's a place 
that drowns in the sea
oh, america
oh, america
it's just you and me

the air is so heavy, the night is so deep
the army is coming to the mission of creeps
the neighbor is ranting
and shaking his fist
a child of god
the one who is pissed

oh, america
oh, america
it's a place 
that drowns in the sea
oh, america
oh, america
it's just you and me 
 
we listen for thunder, and take an axe to the trees
there's a war in our nature, she do what she please
our thoughts are all jumbled
they've been sold down the line
we've been driven to market
and told it's divine

oh, america
oh, america
it's just you and just me
 
 ***