a dirty story.

the pig fell in the mud.
and didn't care,
cuz he knew there
wouldn't be mud
one day
so he'd better
enjoy it
while he could.
in pairs
if possible

i was telling you my dream

so i get on the test flight for the new super sonic cessna. there's a small group up front, and i'm in back. we take off at a sharp angle and the stewardess is smiling broadly as she comes toward me, leaning drastically put perfectly comfortable and at ease. the pilot then swoops around, barely grazing buildings, and missing power lines, and doing loops etc. when we land, i was like "holy shit! what the hell?" we take a small rest and the stewardess is like, "ok, time to go back."

i'm like "cool" and strap myself in for the return flight. just as crazy. the end.

i think it's a bill hicks kind of thing; it's all a ride, man.

total eclipse of the moon

i saw it with my own eyes.
and through a telescope.
it helped me comprehend how large our universe is,
and made me wonder how many more universes there are,
and how many other beings were watching their own eclipse somewhere out there.
quite a few, i expect.

i wrote 27,000 operas

in my mind
before breakfast
this morning

now if I could
just get
one of them
on paper
& sold to my neighbor's friend's
cousin for a few large
by next tuesday
that'd B great
cuz that's when
the rent is due.

I can prove it

'cuz
if this,
then that,
plus,
I was there when it happened,
I saw it
I swear

Anthropomorphic spoons

are scooping out
what's left of my
rotting brain
but that
shit'll happen
and leave me
insane

suicide by police

is taking action
at least

rest is good for the soul

like a cool shower on a
hot day
or
tea by the fire
in mid January
and the soul
imagines it all.

she's naive

trusting
kind
intelligent
subtle and strong
but get on her back
and she'll buck you off,
cowboy.

being thankful

can be harder than you'd think
if you're at all like me
and tend to dwell on
the things people did to you

until you remember
that you probably
did the same thing
in one form or another
to someone
at some time
for some reason
and
everything serves
if nothing more than
to teach us to say
no
thank you

mirrors

are everywhere
my mother
my sister
my brother
my father
my friends
my enemies
strangers
acquaintances
all serve to reflect
the inner me
and let me see
what i thought i had hidden
no need for me to be angry, then,
but simply smile
and use them
to get that piece of spinach
out of my teeth.

sometimes

you say what you gotta say
and sometimes you keep it in
either way
the message is clear
it's just a matter of my hearing
what i wanted to hear
and not what you were saying
now i see you're not playing
and i'll get you back your
talisman
if i can have my pride

it was a busy month

i got done with
most of what i aimed to do.
now it's time to kick it up a notch.
oh, you thought you were already in overdrive.
hold on, son.

he promised her the world

and then asked for it all back

but all he ever gave her

was a little bit o' sweet lovin

and a big fat IOU

I had to teach myself

that I have worth
because my teachers
only knew self-loathing
So, since they didn't know
what they were doing
to themselves and us,
they have an out.
And, now, it's up to me
to stop the cycle
of insanity.
Always was-
but being aware
only increases
my knowledge
of my responsibility
& frankly,
that frightens me.
But that's prob'ly how
it's s'posed to be.

I sought a

bit of solitude
but my past selves
kept dropping in
to remind me
I'm never alone.

what if the world ended tomorrow?

at 10 a.m.

but 10 a.m. where?

isn't it always 10 a.m. somewhere?

well, anyways, i enjoyed the last 48+ years.

i hope you did, too.

and if it doesn't, i expect i'll enjoy

the next 48 or so,

or whatever i'm given,

and you yours...

it's fun to create new things

and call it art
or steve
or adam and eve
or pop
or blues
or whatever you choose.

I wonder what

will happen today.
It seems so ordinary
but my life will
inevitably & inexorably
change because
the sun came up
and the stars
withdrew
and
I
noticed.

But seriously,

give it a second
to sink in,
that the Universe can only
be as it is
if it isn’t.
Let me be less obscure,
but nothingness can only
exist if everything else
does, too,
or nothing does
and neither
does
the
nothingness.
more likely,
it only imagines
it does.

Now I'm convinced

that the Universe
hates me
for it has placed on me
the burden
of loving everyone
and expects me to do it.
and knowing this
and knowing me
It has given itself
an Impossible feat.
But it laughs
At the head of the
statue with
smug foresight
while all I see
from this spot
at the base
is defeat.

I just realized

the main problem
has always been
that I believed
them when they told me
I wasn’t wonderful.
I was like,
who isn’t wonderful?

Written in the dark-

the processing stuff
syndrome
can make the belly weak
but take heart
don't
put your
beak
under your wing
heads up-
the sky's the limit
take off- sing!
Dont' look back-
It's all a dream anyway-
So, why not take that Leap,
(uh, Jack,
mm, is it?)

my mind exploded

a little
today
It wasn’t the biggest bang
not like the irresistible force
meeting the immovable object
or anything-
but more like
man meets god
and sees himself
with only a mirror
and an innocent
eye.

if you can love yourself

you can love anyone,
and vice versa.

Where did i go right

in the search for happiness
cuz
the happy shit is
hitting the fan
& I am
so friggin joyful
right now,
like thunder & lightning
are my favorite band
& I’m dancing
the two step
& holding the hand
of my latest partner
who’s always
pleasant & kind
& never
demeans or
belittles
my ass
for filling his pot
with whatever
I got.

A diamond

all facets at once
a grain of rice
has how many more
inside its core
and how is that
electron everywhere always
and right where you need
it to be?
Just like the way
we agreed it should be
Wouldn’t it be nice
if we would all
remember that?
We could stop
fightin’ about
all this crap
and get on with
being our cryptic selves
again
is that a sin?
As if there’s any such thing.

(W8?)

wait how is this done?
& where are we from?
hold on
who has the strings
who’s loading the gun
who’s wearing the rings
who’s who
what’s what
when’s all this gonna end
where’s there to go after this?
let’s get on with this shit.
Anyway-
thot I’d say
L8r
G8r
BEEN
Gr8
hanging with ya.

Don’t be H8N
B M8N
;]
me

Anniversary of a Birth

My granddaughter turns four today.
I want her day to be a happy one.
I want to forget the things that happened on that day
way before she was even an inkling
in her mama's knickers.
She doesn't know what it means to lose people you love
for no reason other than hate
or greed
or ignorance
or jealousy
or ignorance
or hate
or ignorance...
she only knows she wants a pink cake
with purple frosting and strawberries.
and she'll get it.
happy birthday,
sweetie.
may you turn this day into joy for all
somehow

I'm not writing,

This pen is not real
the paper doesn’t exist
nor does the poem, nor the rhythm
nor the story
nor the twist.
Except in
the mind
of the One
whose imagination
sparked “creation”
or its reasonable
facsimile;
Better known as
you or me,
or collectively,
the Singularity.

I did it.

I admit it.
I tried to quit it.
I can’t forget it

I couldn’t take it
I tried to shake it
I didn’t make it
I can’t forsake it.

I did it again

untitled poem #14

Come again, my love,
and tickle my funny bone the way
you used to do.
I’ve been getting help
for that bad habit
and have a better job.
I eat right and
exercise daily now
and often
volunteer at church,
so you can expect
a brand new person,
not the one you grew tired of
and slept around on.
or was that me?
Anyway, I’ve made
a meatloaf
with that special sauce
you love, sweet,
tangy, and spicy, all in one,
and mashed potatoes,
made with sour cream and tons of butter.
See you at 8-
I’ll leave the door unlocked-
wait, don’t you still have a key?
Never mind
Oh and if you remember,
could you bring my copy
of Barber’s Violin Concerto?
that’d be great.
No biggie,
just if you think of it.
Love,
Me.

Anniversary of a Death

He was taken away
by his actions
and hers
And theirs.
Severally and wholly
the plot was written
and he was the one
who was smitten
by the hand of
“crazy random happenstance”.
Yet, we all cried,
as if it
was a surprise
and sang ourselves
to sleep
with haunting lullabies
only to wake
again, refreshed,
and ready
to write another tale
of bittersweet hello
and good-bye.



06/25/10

untitled #13

I painted the sky purple
and the grass
a light blue
crimson trees
and copper lake
and the people
all were kind
of chartreuse
with eyes
pink as
any cloud
and hair
orange and gold.
and no one
grew old.

u.p. #12

I’m tired
of resting
and I’d be happy
to be sad for you,
but I’m busy
doin’ nothin’
I’m looking
for a vision
I’m up for
some derision
cuz I can’t see past
the television
I’m hoping
for the faith
to sleep
perchance to dream
to let myself
see myself
from any other angle
than the one I got
now.
I’m into
outcasts.

untitled #11

pens are made to
get lost
like thoughts
not recovered for years
or days
spent dreaming
and scheming
and no one notices
til it’s time
to write a note
or recap a life
in song
or words
once at the
fingertips
now stored away
slipped between
the packets of photographs
in a box in the attic
or lives
lived alone
amongst the
myriad others
boiling, toiling
roiling crowds
all for a moment
of sunlight
not knowing the source is within.

Wow. Did I say pens?
I meant, uh, penguins
or penelope
the one over there
in the polka dot dress
not you or me
we’re somewhat
more permanent,
aren’t we?

u p #10

i c
i m
u r
b

untitled poem #9

Simple Simon
Sang a Song
and no one listened
and then they were gone.

and the next batch
o’freaks got to sing along

Kinda funny
but it’s wrong
don’t assume
your eyes and ears
speak truth
it could all be a myth
at least it’s everyone’s
version at once
so don’t presume
you know
how it’s done
or when.
Who’s to say?
where it’s day
for me it may
be night for you
What is ancient for one
to me is a youth.

It’s all we ever
dreamed
this lie
we tell ourselves
called life
So, careful, you
might
wake up
& spoil
the end
for yourself.
'til then,
sleep tight.

haiku? without title #3

Whatever.
i tried.
bitch.
but, you know, you expect a lot, and
you’re impossible to please, just like
my mother, and now i’d have to
write a whole freaking book of
haikus to get a blow job.

haiku without title #2

Another haiku
could only mean I got both
last nite. here’s hopin’…

haiku without title #1

A haiku for you
would mean so much more than, say,
a backrub or roses sex.

Something Serious

Every mentor, every enemy,
Each teacher and student,
All moms and all daughters
All dads & all sons
etc. each person
will, one day,
cease to be.
So, why take everything
so seriously?

untitled poem #8

So, now I see that there is no other
use for these words than to amuse
myself or thee, But thou
carest not for fancy words, or
large vehicles with 6 wheels
that can move your whole
living room set in one load.
Yeah, baby, I write this shit
for you, so you can know
I’ll always change directions
when you whistle that song I love.
Y’know, the one where you hold me
tight & make sweet love to me
all thru the night &
let me sleep in &
leave me alone to write.
all day.
and if I write six poems
that’s good.
But 8 would be better
and 12 more,
and when you read
them you’ll be set free.

untitled haiku #4

Wherever I go
I'll go with a smile and a
Wonderous new view

untitled #7

My Left Buttock
aches
to ride one more wave
and crash one more gully
and get dumped
to show it knows
it'll all be OK.
"Calm down," let the
guide pull you back
into the raft
and "stick that
oar in the water.
lean into it, too!"
no complacence here.

untitled piece o' poetry #6

I know nothing
but the water
and the motion
toward the ocean

I know nothing
but the trees
and the turtles
and the heron
and the bees

I know nothing
but the sky
and the clouds
and the rain
and I know I'm coming back again.

I know nothing
but chattooga
and ocoee
and who knows
where I'll be next week,
but I'll be
where the wind blows me
and I'll be happy
and I'll be free

u. p. #5

Clever shoes on her?
but she’s so frumpy,
the wedges; so clumpy,
like, not even her style.
and that bag doesn’t go at all,
It’s for someone who’s tall
or more chic
but she mist it by a mile,
like, she’s blind in one eye
or shopping
in shades or can’t be
what she is for a moment more
or finally saw she was
pathetic and weak
and dared to change
even if only for this afternoon,
Maybe she’ll have the guts
to look over and
say, “fuck! you!” to the bald
guy who’s staring and giggling
behind his hand to his friend
who’s a little insecure at
that weight.

Love ya.

untitled #4

I write the unpoem
I unwrite the repoem
I rewrite the depoem
I dewrite the bepoem.

O, poem, where are thy words?
who has thy rhythm?
why doesn’t anything rhyme with
rhythm
or orange?
unless sporange is in
The Oxford Unabridged,
then, where were you
when you readed it
and debunked
another
perfectly good excuse
for never using orange
or sporange in a
poem again, let alone
twice each?
N’Ice job, btw.
wink.
Wait, I think I see another rhyme.
never mind.

untitled #3

Sometimes you gotta let the words out-
even if it’s drivel (“drivel” is a word?)
and make the shit seem
real
Even tho’
everybody knows
it’s pretend.
But our minds will bend.

untitled poem #2

I refuse to write this poem
and I won’t write it in pen.
OK, maybe a line or two,
but I won’t enjoy it.
All right, it is kind of fun,
but I’m still mad and
I won’t like it.
Well, I guess, since
I’m writing anyway
might as well say
somethin’.
Fuck, shit.
That’s it.
and no one will like it.

untitled poem #1

Remembering things
I’m learning it’s all good-
Feeling bad
Knowing only thinking it’s so
makes it so.

Dreaming dreams
Living like I know I’m asleep
And all I have to do is leap
to fly.
Having it all
is not impossible
but probable
when I see who I
really am.
I am all of it
and if there could be more
I would be that, too.

Being

adage #5

No one wants to play a game they can’t win. So, I guess if we knew we all win, in the end, kind of like, nothing will matter, ultimately, as much as we want to believe it will, it just won’t. We’ll all be pushing up posies eventually, so let’s all relax and remember to take our chill pills before we go out in public (and even when we’re home with the kids.) Then, this planet will be so pleasant. But since it doesn’t matter, whatever works. Lol
What’s funny is, I totally see, now, that I’m a condescending asshole, I guess I learned what I was taught. Sorry for using it on you. I’m becoming aware of things I want to do differently.
Yeah. Like rest. Some more.
Hey, are we so done or what?
Let’s get on with this finishing thing.

platitude #4

Something i want my granddaughter to learn, but if the shoe fits...
"Not peeing in your pants is its own reward."

quip #3

I decided to laugh at myself today and let a couple others laugh at me, 2 and, wow, now I feel like laughin' all the time. Funny:]

aphorism #2

my friend, Liz, and I say, "Jesus died so we can relax."

P.s. i know i said i'd have one of these everyday, but saturday, and, then, i can't get online for 5 days. figures. well, i know you are all patient, understanding folks, like me and will let me just be my usual, easy-going self. thanks.

A New Direction

I hope none of my beloved followers minds if I go a new way with this blog.

I have been writing poems for a long time, but recently wrote a lot that have a distinctly "Advice for..." flavor. Since my blogs have said most of what I want to say about Christianity, I have decided to publish these poems as part of my new blog direction.

I intend to bestow my lovely words upon your expectant ears every day, except Saturday. They're not too long and some may even be too short, or not even be poems, but hopefully they'll bring you joy. Let me know what you think.

Thanks,
D

p.s. here's #1:

You always win when you play for fun.

p.p.s. see. not long, not a poem, but good, yes?

Apocalypse now: a good movie.

And coming true. Well, that is my inkling from all I hear and see these days. It doesn’t take a prophet to read the signs and understand that this nation is done. The mean guys with the big guns are going to obliterate the u.s. Don’t ask me when. How would I know? I just read and listen and put two and two together to make eggroll.
I think it’s ironic that the book that spells it out is most misunderstood and misrepresented by the men who maintain its veracity. They know the heaven and hell part is a farce, but the story of the end of the world as we know it is plainly described.
In the book of their prophet Isaiah , the 18th chapter, it talks about a nation of people tall and smooth of skin, terrible from their beginning on, a nation measured out and trodden down, divided by rivers. It says in the evening a clear heat and in the morning they are gone. Hmm. Makes you wonder.
There were warnings that the events on 9/11 would happen and there have been warnings that the people who perpetrated that disaster are not finished. They say to expect it soon, not just big cities, which will all be blown up, according to the email I saw, but small towns, too. I personally believe that this will happen soon.
So… move to the mountains? Flee to Canada? Will it do any good? I don’t know. I do know it’s just a game. We all win in the end.

Sincerely,
D
P.S. c u soon, where we all remember how wonderful we are all the time!!! That’ll b cool.

Christianity: not so christian

Whoa. What? Yeah, no, it's pagan. Kind of ironic, eh?
Some examples from history…
Christmas; pagan.
Easter; pagan.
Hell; pagan.
Crosses; pagan.
Virgin mothers...also, pagan.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying a man named Jesus didn’t walk the earth, but I think we can all agree, the folks who’ve been preachin’ his “good news” for nearly 1800 years didn’t get it right.
One might say they deviated a bit from the "words in red" in their good book.

E.g., the Christ they profess to worship and adore said:

Judge not ... omg. need i say more? it seems to me Christians spend a lot of time pointing their fingers at others peoples' "sins", and little time focusing on their own. maybe they convince themselves that because their "hearts are right with God" (an invented phrase not found in their bible. [sacrilege!]) that they can safely condemn another to hell? I was recently informed that “there’s a list” in their book of Revelation citing all those who are going to “burn in the lake of fire for all eternity”, so apparently, the guy who wrote that supercedes their forgiving Christ. Jesus was so soft.

Love your enemies… they appear to be convinced they must kill their enemies before their enemies kill them. it's like they're afraid to die, as if they’re not quite sure where they’d end up. hm. of course, they’re not afraid to send their enemy straight to hell, in a loving manner, i guess.

Do unto others… I guess Christians must like to be belittled, criticized, and sentenced to eternal damnation and then sent there, asap, “cuz you never know what them crazy sinners are gonna do. better just put ‘em out of their misery.” but, seriously, do unto most Christians as they just did unto you, and beware, honey, they just might praise the lord and pass the ammunition your way, if you get my drift.

Also funny is that the wars are all righteous wars and everyone is fighting for their respective, loving God (capital G, of course!).

But the weirdest, most ironic thing of all is:
In their good book (in Revelations, again), there is a story about “Mystery Babylon, Mother of Harlots,” which some modern-day “Protesant” churches believe is the Catholic Church. They believe this church will come to ruin in the “last days” because of its evil. And isn't it? Now, I’m not one to judge, but if an organization can’t follow its own rules, why would anyone listening to its teachings? I’m guessing fear of authority and control of the masses are two phrases destined to be worked into this conversation. After all, the formerly mentioned entity has a particularly long and bloody history. Enter the protestants who condemn the old way and condone the new, right way to believe in and be saved by THE ONE TRUE GOD, or burn in hell. Well, they are not unlike their “mother” the “harlot” (a quote about fruits and trees comes to mind, here).
They’re reading a book compiled by men, for a specific purpose, 200 years after their Christ lived. Since then, many lost gospels and other writings have been found which were omitted from their perfect word of god. And since it’s perfect, who can refute anything quoted from it? (Isn’t that a nice little, built-in argument winner?) And, even if the book is directly breathed from god's mouth into the writers’ ears, who decided how to interpret its meaning? Of course, they and they’re pastor prayed about it, so their version must be right. (I think I just quoted myself. Heh heh.) Can anyone else see a pattern of indoctrination and abuse of power? Not to mention deception, murder, molestation, genocide, infanticide…

So, Alanis, this is ironic! The guys who’ve all along been preaching/legislating righteousness aren’t, never were, don’t care, just want you to be a good, quiet little mouse and eat your government cheese, and be glad, and if you don’t you might find a big mousetrap outside your front door.

Oh, and tithe.


Yours,

D


P.S. and I believe all that "end of days" death and destruction will probably happen at their hands… a little too ironic...and way too soon.

P.P.S. From Paul’s 1st letter to the Corinthians, chapter 13, Holy Bible:
Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I have become sounding brass or a clanging cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, but have not love, it profits me nothing.
Love suffers long and is kind; love does not envy; love does not parade itself, is not puffed up; does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil; does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
Love never fails. But whether there are prophecies, they will fail; whether there are tongues, they will cease; whether there is knowledge, it will vanish away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part. But when that which is perfect has come, then that which is in part will be done away.
When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things. For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know just as I also am known.
And now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love.

how i'm gw, etc. pt 2. (why i returned to the p.o.)

If you read my profile, you'll see I was raised Catholic, and went through various stages of protestantism, to become a devoted pantheist. Thank me. So, it might not surprise you to learn that, for years, I felt a "call" to be a missionary in Africa. I have always wanted to go there and suspect, once I go, I'll want to stay.

That being said, I was sitting at work, a few years back, processing images of mail on my computer screen, thinking about what a wonderfully well-paying and secure job I had, and pondering how many years I had worked many horrific jobs (and some not too bad ones), and how blessed I felt at that moment. As I was relishing how far I'd come, and pondering where the future might take me, the thought came into my head, "You're going to have to give this all up, someday."

To which another voice retorted, "oh, yeah?"

The first voice continued, "yes, one day, you'll just have to take a leap of faith."

And at the precise moment the word "leap" popped into my head, the word "leap" popped up on my computer screen, on the next envelope I was to process. Right there, in the upper left corner, where most people put their return address (who wouldn't put it there? and why not? [helpful postal hint]) was the single word, "leap!"

Needlesstosay, I would have soiled my undies, had I been wearing any. (jk, I usually wear something between me and my jeans.) But, wouldn't you want to crap yourself? So, the voices in my head argued back and forth for a bit, until the voice I'll call "me" said, "Omg, ok. I'll do it, but you'll have to tell me when, and I better know it's you, 'God.'"

Of course, this is all part of why I quit, when I decided I was God and I didn't need no job (see previous blog). I had recently had several dreams in which I took a flying leap only to have the softest of landings. So, when I decided to quit, I just didn't show up the next day (you could be fired for that, immediately, you know. they'll do it.), and, a day later, walked into my bosses office, handed him my badge, and said, "it's been nice working with ya."

He surprised me by saying, "I figured you'd say that to me one day," and a bunch o' other cool stuff that left me confident I had made the correct choice.

Of course, once people started finding out, some went ballistic and lectured me (Come on, guys, I'm an adult) and others just gently asked the story and made sure I knew what I was doing, and just suggested I reconsider. Aaaaah. I listened whole-heartedly to them all, but respectfully disagreed.

So, let's recap. We got the birthday/anniversary/wisconsin/george-washington-look-a-like mask thing and the whole "who needs a job", and the soft landings...

So, of course, as I realize, I might get hungry without my fat paycheck, I go online and lookup overseas jobs. Now, everyone, and I mean, everyone has told me not to quit my postal job, to keep my insurance and my security, (and visit africa, first, and then later, maybe go there longer, etc,) but I am sure that, being God, I'll survive without it. And I was expecting that soft landing, but I didn't expect to type in the words "overseas jobs" and have the first hit to pop up be "united states postal service". Ccome on! And, of course, as I looked at the wedsites that listed jobs, I realized I might have trouble finding a position with no degree, and only clerical experience. So, I started looking at volunteering, but they all require that you have your own health insurance. Um, I was like, ok, I wonder if my soft landing of the dreams was the cushy job I already have, and since, "if a man doesn't work, he shall not eat," sounds reasonable, I might as well keep the fine job I already had.

I went back the day before my resignation would have taken effect and the h.r. lady about cried telling me how glad she was I came back. (Well, her husband had recently died, so she related how she had wished all the folks who praised him at his funeral had been able to tell him those things to his face. I almost cried, too.)

Now wasn't that was an adventure? And now, two years later, I have to find employment elsewhere, whether I like it or not. My worksite is closing. It'll be cool to see where I land this time. Don't worry, I'll keep you posted.

Yours,

D

P.S. Thanks for your patience and comments. :]

How I'm George Washington and why I quit my job

by: mentl D
This is a true story.

February 22, 2008 was my twenty-fifth anniversary of moving to Phoenix, from Wisconsin, back when I was younger. I'd been avoiding work to write a book and see what else the universe had for me besides a career postal position, as heavenly as that must sound, and planned to take the day off and do a raku class at the ceramics shop I frequented as a gift to my wonderful self. I had a couple of masks I'd made just for it a week or two earlier. One had turned out to look like our first President, and so I made a companion piece I called Martha. (I painted the pair with a glaze that comes out dark green with copper and purple highlights [the color of money!], and George was the only piece that turned out that night, out of about 7 pieces also painted with the same glaze and fired in different batches. All the rest, including Martha, came out a lovely, deep-jade green. Funny.)

A couple weeks after the class, my son directed me to the calendar, because there had been a lunar eclipse on February 20th that year and he mentioned that in Acts 2, verse 20 (in the bible) it says "the moon will be red as blood...before that great and terrible day of the Lord". (I personally believe we're close to some gigantic catastrophe, but then, I'm a bit dramatic sometimes and was indoctrinated as a "christian" and still have a fascination with "Armageddon".) (scary if you don't remember, it's all a dream, however it ends). Anyway. It was then that I saw that the Great G.W.'s birthday is February 22nd. I crapped my pants at the weird coincidence and stared at George for hours. And, don't ask me when, but, I noticed that the outline of the mask was shaped like the state of Wisconsin (dunt dunt dah), whereupon, I took another crap.

I was a bit euphoric, to say the least, and was remembering wayne dyer talking about his imagining having been talking with god about his life as St. Francis of Assisi and how wonderful it had been, and I had laughed, cuz no one remembers being a bum or a prostitute. And Wayne Dyer also says something very close to; "In an intelligently designed universe, there can be no coincidences." So, I guess, all these things came together in my brain, and I was like, "Wayne Dyer is Frickin St. Francis of Assisi and I'm George freaking Washington!" and a voice in my head said, "Yup. You're George Washington and you're Francis of Assisi and you're Wayne Dyer and you're Jesus. We're all one." And my heart exploded out of my chest and I laughed my ass off, 'til I cried. Euphoria, indeed.

Wow. I really knew I was God. So, I quit. God don't need no stinking job!

I should tell you that a week later I went back. That is another story, well, really, part of the same story, but almost as long, so, I'm gonna torture you and save my brain and fingers for another blog. ha ha ha haaaaaaaa ha ha ha haaaaaaaaa. (evil laff)

Stay tuned...

Yours,


D


P.S. I'd tell you it's a happy ending, but I don't think it's quite near over, yet. And we have learned that every ending's happy, cuz it brings a new beginning, right? So... But, just how happy remains to be seen.

Wisdom

I think this is the key to the serenity prayer. If you know what you can change in your life and what you can't, it will save countless hours of frustration and worry.

For instance, any time at all spent wishing to change the past, is wasted effort. The past continues to remain unchangeable. Bummer.

I was talking to a friend about "living in the 'now'", which is moderately difficult, due to our perceiving life only after it has happened. "Now" is always here, but we never experience it. My motto is: there is no "now", there is only perception, intention and action. Now, this may not be the ultimate answer to the universally relevant conundrum, but, if you think about it, it covers a lot of bases.

But we were talking about the wisdom to know what we can and cannot change, and I submit that we can only change ourselves. We can change our perception of the past and change our intention for the future and change our actions to match our new intentions. Well, assuming there are patterns which occasion adjustment, or some such.

I think it's safe to say we all desire to have wisdom. I also think we have it, but just don't always listen to it. Sometimes, I get so caught up in the game, I forget I'm a player, and make "mistakes" due to an oversight or lack of foresight or just plain crazy balls to the wall who gives a flying fuck, let's do it. It's good when I remember not to take everything so seriously. A very wise man once said that it is all vanity. Don't worry so much about riches and fame or food and clothing. We're all becoming dust again soon enough, anyway. Now, if the, arguably, I'll concede, wisest man in the world says it, it might very well be true.

So, I cannot change the fact that I blew the chance to get that girl's number, but I can learn from it, change my intention and then my actions, and be snuggling in front of "Singing in the Rain", or whatever, in no time! Isn't wisdom fun?


Yours,


D


P.S. So, I can be serene all the time, even when I'm being courageous and changing the things wisdom says I can. Cool. "Gotta dance!"