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The Freedom of Chaos, Pt.1

The rocket seemed far out to sea
the platform, barely visible
as the magnificent cylindar
defied all reason
pencil straigt
flames like lasers
driving against the deck
and the magnet

We are all stuck here
and we’ve learned to live with it.

We watched from the beach
for any imperfection
habitually hoping
to see a kink in the armour
to see something
that would lead
to the freedom of chaos.

And there it was.

The ship, just off angle
before touching home
and just off angle is enough
and the ship began to tilt
and as it fell into the sea
it became huge
before it sunk
huge and close
no longer academic
no longer abstract
far from the beach
now, it was right on top of us
and it didn’t stay sunk,
bursting out of the sea
with a final blow of the tanks,
and now,
it’s own freedom
spun it like a wild
200 stories high
and a football field wide.

It blocked out the sun
and all on the beach stopped
the freedom of chaos was
quickly replaced
with the fear of chaos
and death
and tremendosity.

The behemoth rocket
lurched and belched
aircraft carrier size flames
as it fell, again,
towards the beach

and people ran

I shouted for my boy
he was no where to be found
so I grabbed my son
and we ran

It was much worse than a rocket
something was coming for us,
something called chaos,

And we ran.


Boys talk about fighting.
Men fight.
A real man will not hurt another person
without having been hurt himself
and when he does hurt another
he will recognize the hurt he’s caused himself
and his family
and the world
and he will carry the hurt with him


Boys talk about fighting
and nobility
and honor
as if they go together
rather than
being a tiny trickle
in a great ocean.

Honor is not angry
nobility is not strong
I’ve learned how to recognize
the boys,
as I’ve grown up myself
and left my boy, to walk with me

Always a reminder and playmate,
Seldom the leader.

Boys, you boys, you silly boys,
there is nothing wrong with boys
the only problem is the monster
who strangles the boy
with the noose of his father.

Boys will be boys.
There is no escape,
because they must.
The only question is
who will step in,
not to proclaim boyhood
and point,
but to demonstrate manhood,
so the boys can find
the only way,


And I Am With Him

There is a boy,
and he is as real
as rain
as water falling
down mountains,
he is real.

I look at him
he looks at me
he looks to me
he looks for answers
at first I don’t think I have them
any of them
at first and forever
I forget that I am him
I forget that I am alive
I forget I am a human
on this earth
with this most gracious life
most vibrant life
most awake life
most joyful life

I forget,

and I am
and have,
tricked myself
into believing I have
no answer
into believing
I am at a loss in the world
for my way
I am tricked
and I trick myself
into believing that
I am not a king
a queen
a god
an earthworm
a boy
a man
a seagull
a chickadee
a song

There is a boy
he is real,
as real as rain
as water falling down mountains.

I remember
and I am with him
and there are no answers.

And I am with him.

If You've Ever Loved A Child

I lived a happy life.
No matter what people
tried to make me,
I found my moments.

If you’ve ever loved a child,
you know.

If you’ve ever loved a child,
you’ve been broken.

If you’ve ever loved a child,
you’ve been reborn.

If you’ve ever loved a child
you feel the disturbance.
It’s so clear, in contrast
to purity of your relationship
to your love of your child.

You have a relationship with love,
the object, your child.
The object of your love
is your child.
The relationship to your love
is yours alone and is

Once you experience the pureness
of your love (for your child),
you can never see the world the same.
The veil is meant to be removed.
Love is meant to reign.
Life does not have to be full
of conflict and war.

You do not have to be full of
conflict and war,
unless you want to.

And this is the disturbance
you become aware as you deepen
into the purity of your relationship
to your love.
You see it everwhere,
the ripples and waves of pride
and violence
and hate
that have surfaced.

They have surfaced in the world
as they have surfaced in you
and we know have the beautiful choice
to face our hate, face our violence
as we see it for the beacon
of hope that it is.

Hope for transcendence,
hope for love,
hope for peace,
hope for freedom.

Think of your child now
and your love for them
and imagine, now, the part
of you that loves
and now,
the purity of that part of you
and of the bond between
you and love,
like coming home
and being home
at the same time.

And now,
read the news of the world,
and reveal to yourself
that the news of the world
is the news of yourself.

This is waking up.
This is the path to love.
The disturbance is a gift.

If you’ve ever loved a child,
you know.

Cinco The Cat

Cinco, the cat.
Born the 5th of five
on the 5th day of the 5th month.
This cat is all about five.

Orange and cream
he folds his legs under
Sweet with a killers gleam
he doesn’t like thunder.

He will give you a hug
he’ll tell you his hungry
he’ll nuzzle your nose
he always acts like it’s Sunday.

Cinco the cat, from kitten on up
A complex personality
a subtle cat love
he does what he wants
but he will agree
sometimes you both
want the same things.

Cinco the cat
will cuddle all day
and will nudge your hand back
when you take it away.

We feed him a lot
if we don’t he’ll go kill
it’s part of loving a cat
it’s part of the bill.

Cinco the cat is a part of the family
he’s older than all of us
if you believe cat accounting.
He’s master relaxer
and will chase some yarn
and when you give him some catnip
he’s off the farm

Cinco, oh Cinco, you bundle of orange cream
your mother was Peaches
it seems like a dream
you’re for us and us you, we love you so much
Cinco the Cat you’re one heck of a catch.

The Blink Of An Eye

What do you want to do, anyway
now that you’ve had some time to think.
Now that you’re decades into this thing called life
and sitting here in a blink.

The youth movement is treachery to the soul,
whether by design or by impulse
older humans who’ve died inside
look for anything to take control.

And put it all on the children
like leaving them out in the cold
ill equipped in mind and matter
to survive in a world that is so cold.

But nonetheless it’s what we do
and who can even say it’s bad,
Sure I rant and rave about it
and when I feel, I feel sad.

But who’s to say and who’s to know
if the sins of the parents
are an inevitable flow
vital to the way we grow.

We don’t want what’s best
because we don’t know what’s best
and if we did, well, we’d be god
and then there wouldn’t be a problem
there’d be no such thing as fraud.

And yet we still breath and still survive
and feel love for our family pride
and our children are the apples of our eye
and mostly we just want to cry
but we don’t and we don’t know why
it would be so bad to cry,
not to pass the time
or just get by
but to connect with the deeper why
and the pain of letting it all go by
before we knew it,
in the blink of an eye.

No te olvides del niño del árbol

The boy runs,
head back, glancing
arching back – like his chest is leading

and maybe it is, the heart.

Shouts and laughter
laughter and shouts
speedy directions
not fast enough to catch up
with the action
of the boy.

It’s as if he belongs in that tree,
and other kids,
like fruit
pop up and hang and swing

laughter and shouts

Little fingers, little toes
climbing on the world
loving, living, loving, living

shouts in laughter

More children come
little fingers and bark
branches and legs
skin and leaves

el árbol niño
the tree child

El chico de los árboles se fue
The tree child is gone

It can’t be
But it is.
Laughter and shouts
Skin and bark
little limbs on little limbs

oh such terribleness for what
we’ve forgotten.

We’ve forgotten the child of the tree,
Nos hemos olvidado del niño del árbol.

Do not forget the child of the tree.


I’m wary of love.
Always hiding around corners
patient, patient
Always feeling so, so,
you know…


I’m not quite sure of this life stuff.
you know what I mean?
It’s just suffering at the heart
All in between.

I shamed my son today,
like an arrow to my chest
I didn’t even know
I was so caught up
in the best.
It’s the worse thing I’ve ever done
And still I fear I won’t atone,
this is the darkness,
This is alone.

And in usual I would befall,
To months and years of terror
where shame and pride
they mock me
so completely with out error.

But nigh,
this night upon me,
Where the winds have buffed the clouds
And the Mountains reach above
And the moon, she shines aloud.
Not this night, around me
it won’t be that way tonight
Because, my son
the son of myself
I’ve not yet begun to fight
But only just now,
I recognized
The bright and shining light
That is bigger than all you think
and imagine
but it’s dark as night!

Or through the dark,
I should rightly say
From the dusking to the the light
when pink sunlight kissed the mount
on a bright and shining morn,
There was a freshness to the day
at the same time,
Time to mourn.

Time to mourn
Is vital. It’s the only thing that’s real,
Or at least that you can be sure of,
that and how you heal.
because despite all that you don’t believe
and all you say you do
and between all the bullshit printed
in ink and in your brain
It’s a wonder, no a certainty
that you’ll go insane.

And that’s just what has happened,
And that’s just what we’ll do,
If people don’t start waking up
And seeing what to do.
And some are there but most are not
and none have any clue.

But what’s that matter,
when you’ve shamed your son,
and killed a part of you?

Toxic Masculinity Does Not Exist, Part 452

Part 452 in the ongoing series of debunkment.

And before starting, a disclaimer: Looking for men and women who want to put down their assumptions, and deal with the painful reality that is the present. This means examining your own objections, feelings and actions before you point out others. I call these people Allies. We need more Allies.

It doesn’t matter what other people are saying. It doesn’t matter what you’re seeing on TV or in the latest video or social media post (including this one), all that matters is that you want to strive for a better relationship with the opposite sex (of yourself). Basically we’re all at least 49% gay so if you’re at war with the opposite sex, you’re at war with yourself. That’s kind of a joke…but maybe you get my point.

Why should you listen to me about it anyway? Only because I have a penis and have been socialized and biologized as if I have a penis, so I’m an authority on that. I’m an authority on what it means to be socialized and biologized with a penis. This means if there’s anyone out there who hasn’t been Socialized or Biologized with a penis and they’d like to know about it, I’m a good person to ask. The other option is make up a story that you know what it’s like to have a penis and then to take a bunch of actions based on that made up story.

For me, I want to improve the relationship with myself and others, specifically the female. I want there to be less violence in the world and so I want there to be less violence in me, first. I’m really looking for females and males who want this to and are willing to engage around a set of principles that would allow exploration foremost and that would make judgement and justification silly remnants of immaturity.

If you’re a male and you’re bored and frustrated with the same female drive, cliched narrative, then it means you’re going to have to change some things, you’re going to have to step out of the comfort zone of withdrawing yourself in order to avoid the responsibility of disagreement and of owning your own virtue and value. I’ve found it helps to have other men around you to help with this. Males are so used to being a lone and so comfortable with it that we need help to come back to ourselves and begin the process of balancing out the narrative. Because honestly guys, the female narrative is not wrong, but it’s not right either, it’s just half the story masquerading as the full story because we haven’t been willing to take the pain of confronting the female process with compassion and in a masculine way. We’ve contributed to this vacuum of masculinity and it’s time to stop.

If you’re a female the first thing is to get honest. Do you actually want things to change for boys and girls, or just for girls. Do you actually want things to get better for men and women, or just for women. If you’re answer is just or primarily for girls and women, then I challenge you to figure out how that is a humane thing. I understand if what you want is to get back at all the men who have hurt you, but revenge (justified or not) is not a useful method for improving relationships. If you do get honest, you’re going to see that there’s only one way to improvement, and that’s going internal and finding what’s underneath all that rage. From my perspective this requires trust, trust that if you get in touch with and expose the little girl of you that’s been hurt, that’s been let down, you’re not going to be punished for it. There’s very few things men can actually offer women (and vis-a-versa) but one of them (and it can only be offered by a man, not a boy) is the gentle guidance and promise that your little girl is safe with us. There is no hope if women aren’t willing to get into that space to contemplate and act.

And guys…did you hear me…there is no hope if we don’t do whatever is necessary to help women get into that space. When women are in their vulnerability, in their innocence and are encouraged rather than threatened, they can apply their wisdom and vision and they can help men to heal. Without vulnerable women you will not have healthy men.

So not sure how this is all going to come across to you, the reader but if you’re reaction is angry…consider it a gift and go find out who you really are. I’m going to do that after I go beat my dog!

True Warrior

The Most Beautiful

The man in the image, and he is a man and there are qualifications for being a man, is a true warrior. I can see it in his innocence as he dips to meet the child. He is a child and he is not avoiding but embracing his childhood and that is a difference between a man and a boy. He understands the place of the child within and embraces and expresses that child within and for his greater purpose.

And the child…the child in his natural state of love, striving, gentle, precise, delicate. Why is this image so beautiful to me?

The man has preserved a sense of softness, so much so that he’s not just able to express it but he’s able to express it in the context of the “arena”. He’s built the character to express tenderness in a world of chaos and might, where tenderness gets you smashed. He is exhibiting what I would say is the true warrior nature.

Elan Mudrow


Bitter Gertrude

Blogging about Theatre and Culture since 2013


Critical Dharma for Thinking Minds

Dirty Sci-Fi Buddha

Musings and books from a grunty overthinker

Josep Goded

Seeking Truth


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