Tag Archive | Chaos

Spinning Together Towards… What

I do not know you
because I chose not
to know you.
I allow this
as if I need it
to be allowed.
I am commited.
And, straight, like and arrow
I fly with one purpose
of which
how could I know.
I am not the one
who bends the bow
or takes aim.
I fly in only one direction
and that is towards
death.
And all the sights
along the way
although they take
my brain to play
I couldn’t stay
if I wanted to
even if it feels
so true.

I’m like the earth
spinning round
itself
and spinning round
the sun
while spinning round
itself
while the solar system
spins around
the galaxy
the universe
moving towards…

what

moving towards

what

And yet we spin
and we see
that thing again
and we arrive
and we depart
and we arrive again
spinning around
while hurtling towards

what

I do not think
we know
what we are doing
here
yet.

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
firecracker
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.

Coltrane and Baker

Coltrane wakes me
Baker soothes me
as it should be
as it must be
and why bother with the feelings about each
when underneath it all is rare experience
of experience

Masters giving us something
whether we take it
makes no difference
But that we did take it
made all the difference

Both exactly equal in their willingness to transmit
such difference
along the plane
like jets supersonic crisscross
there is a moment when they cross streams
that moment – singular
and then, bursting off beyond the speed of light
away and apart
and then again, rocketing towards a singularity
and again
rocketing apart

and I am the child, sitting against the earth
looking up at the dance.

Breakfast at Ethos…hold the Ethos

I got up this morning to coach an Ethos class at 7am.  It’s important to me and it’s becoming less of a fight with my laziness because I let it be important to me and I support that it’s important to me by showing up which helps make me stronger in the fight.  I imagine if I keep it up the “fight” in this area of my life may just fade into the past…no more energy spent on the suffering.  That’s a nice thought…

I had a chance to write some morning Poetry – morning I find is the best time, or one of the best times, I feel less polluted, more connected to what’s important to me.  It struck me, as I put the headphones on, that maybe I was floating away, away to the surface, away from the deeper parts of me, the deeper parts that would provide the STUFF…where the conflict, terror and love live…I put on the headphones, it felt good, but my mind brought the question up and so I followed it…what I found was I choose to make music coming through the phones a restrictive thing (which is no different from making it an expansive thing – at least in the way I was doing it).  The point is that there’s something underneath the hearing of the music and that’s where I want to go.  I ended up putting the phones on and challenging myself to exist in that moment below the beats I was hearing and then I continued and played with wondering about living underneath sight and smell and sense…

I don’t spend a lot of time questioning my senses or ever wondering what life would be like without them.  Is my life better because I see?  Hear?  And if so, why?  I could keep going but instead I’m going to post the poem I wrote…I do hope you enjoy it, I hope in some way that you find it useful, that’s the greatest I could hope for…

What’s underneath the beautiful chaos
rhythmelodic staccato drop beats pound thump
and I feel like I want to exist on the same level
as the beats
coming up, staying up – for air
playing at this level, where most play
it’s easy easy to forget the day
and why not
with a bobbing head one conquers the world.

What’s underneath the beautiful chaos
the spread of buttered beats on my brain of bread
Can I have my bread buttered
and eat it too
and then lift my head, swallowing the beats
thumping down into the belly
ingesting the horns and bleating trumpets

It’s hard.

But I’m up for it.

I think it’s going to take some time
and that’s only if I keep practicing.
Otherwise I’m going to be bobbing my head
all the way to the grave
snapping my fingers to a manufactured beat
like a drone
directed remotely
How different am I
from the drone.

What’s underneath the beautiful chaos
what’s inside the package
how important is it to vilify your senses
in order to put things in perspective
so that you can be friends again

I am like a soft and malleable sponge
who thinks he is a rock…

and as I sit, plugged in
I struggle struggle struggle
to get beneath the intent of the music
I struggle to hear only noise
and see only light and dark.

I have to do this because there is something
underneath the beautiful chaos.

This is my day.

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