ST124 ... A collection unrelated but connected - from the last two/three months

I have to write, i'm possessed.

Aug 2 2024 / A few months ago.....the air in here smelt like a tomb

The air in here smells like a tomb, it gets so hard to breathe. Love flew out the window, hate creeped in under the doors, the front, back and side doors too. I fell, a few days back, created a disaster…. in her mind. It could be the beginning of the end, it could be the end already, it will take a lot of love to survive, together as friends, lovers are bent probably too much to straighten out. The lid is loose, the top is still on.

I haven't felt this intense sadness for awhile, beyond a brush-away, temping to end it all, everywhere. I'm tired, my mind is scorched in heat, needs deep sleep, a rearrangement of molecules, an adjustment of spirit, a way thru.

Numerous decisions fell upon me quick. Death is all around, ends are coming, a new way of living into the last bends are imminent. Will i survive? Will she survive? Where is our dog amidst all this, how will she move on between us?

I am so sorry for the childish reactions and actions i have portrayed. There is no real excuse. I should know better. At this age and still crazy… at times. When will this ever end? It is easy to say this and talk of that but actions are all that really matter. I have failed in ways and i know it. There are some realistic excuses but they all fall too, to pieces… in the end. Get back on the horse and keep riding. That is my advice to others and now to myself.

No sense in saying I'm sorry, it's been said a million times before. Possibly the gods will have mercy on us and keep us strong, possibly not. Regardless one must keep walking, crawl if you must, but don't give in, surrender yes, to where your heart lies but stand your ground… at the gates of hell, don't back down, be true, honest, sincere and care.

I don't care about the rhythm of words, the meter, the meaning. I fall into the page with nothing but fingers. Perhaps my beat is out of time., it matters none to me. With celefane scriptures and flannel paragraphs i endure the cold. I am a poet of dark light in a savage mind.

I am under the spell of the illusions I've created. I will survive. Nothing is for certain. I attempt to keep on keeping on but somedays the curse upon me stumbles me blind and i fall, low, into the ramble bush of deceit against my better self. The road is long, death is much closer than it was, say, when i was forty, even fifty, sixty is but a dream, i'll be curving around the eighty mark in a few years…. and what have i done, wasted so much time on trivia, bad habits, weak love.

I'm moving into the remnants of the last shelves of photographic prints, and pages of text before the move south… sort them out. I will store a few boxes and who knows what will happen to them as the future grabs the world….my world.

Most people eat continuity at every meal. I am simple in that way. I reach for what is, be it rules or broken fences, my words speak for themselves, truly, they don't belong to anyone, certainly not myself, i have little to do with their presence as they wander, frolic upon these pages. Sometimes proud and strong, sometimes weak and ignorant, sometimes they speak truth with a few syllables and sometimes they carry on as if there is no future. At any rate, they come, hang about, say a few things, sometimes profound, often not and move on….

I don't think i could write a novel. They are too big…. too long. I get bored being in the same scene for too long.. but perhaps, nothing is for certain, but do i have the time, enough characters to make a world, one that could live long…. does that matter, something to think about, my time is slipping into crevices made of mystery, some think that is where death hides.

Today i will do something extraordinary. When i least expect it, something will appear, i have no idea what, how, when, but i'm fairly certain something will occur to set my mind on edge, to perform, act in a non-ordinary way. We shall see.

It did happen.

I have learned, for a long time now, that one can not know an absolute with the mind, with thought, reason or any other finite instrument but what did not dawn on this mind was the possibility that absolute truth itself changes. How can that be? How can i know that? I can't, but my reason tells me of its possibility especially since no absolute has ever strung me along thru time, or thru the timeless. I am learning to exist within a universe that is completely uncertain. Everywhere i go, everything i do, every thought i have, every feeling, every ‘knowing’ has a crack where uncertainty enters… some call it light. It would be much easier to exist if thought was not so certain of itself. The ultimate paradox. Nature feels safe most of the time, the mother of life but she can be difficult also in times of strength.

How come so many want to raise the frequencies around them as if lower frequencies are evil, undesirable, weak, useless, i love the base, puts melody to the beat of the drum, the glue of the music of life.

My favorite picture of my brother Allyn at the Station Hotel Kitchener On Can. Late 80’s

Aug 5 2024 / Allyn passed today.

Allyn passed today. His suffering is done. He never talked about his pain all that much but he could hardly breathe often and that in itself must be a tragic feeling.

I am lost for words. I am tired of writing of death and pain. The suffering of mankind is endless.

I have many memories reaching into the past that can not be complete now. Allyn passed and i have one sister left with a mind in tact and three others all with Alzheimer's. Allyn was the closest, two years older than myself. I was the youngest out of eight, the first five were from an older generation with a gap of five years, then the three little boys three years apart. Bill the oldest of the three died when i was 27 and David in the middle of the four sisters died when he was fifty-ish. That left me and Allyn and today he left. I am the last boy, man. Rosalyn is the youngest of the sisters and the only one with a mind that can still remember well. It is her and me that will have to figure out what ever needs to be figured out, i suppose.

Allyn and i entered our teenage years as well as Bill but Bill got married and went off into the land of normalcies. My best friend Helmut moved to California when i was 15 and that led me back and forth thru the States to California starting in 65. I was seventeen. Marijuana walked into my life. Everything changed. My fascination with cool cars and permed hair faded; poetry, folk-rock, serious literature welcomed me and replaced slick backed hair and the established structure into a new kool kool future.

Allyn soon joined my childhood friends and off we went skippin down into the hip way of life. Eventually, yes we did psychedelics, and many a real moments cemented our minds together. I love my brother like no other in this universe. Anyone from that period with a relationship with a blood brother understands, nothing can compare. Now, he will not see these words. Sadness grabs me, tender melancholy air strangles me. I will miss him, i do miss him. It was not all that easy after the beauty and restlessness of the sixties fell into the hands of the disco seventies and beyond to these present moments of world disillusionment, but the depth of our love, developed in the height of beatles, dylan, stones, animals, cohen and so much more, that could never be erased. He felt that, we touched each others soul over the strawberry fields of love that would last a life time. Our love for Bill was different but just as true; Bill never experienced the world of psychedelics and that, that was huge.

I am so sorry at times as these for some of my brother Al's changes as he manuevered thru life, with moments in areas that were not the best for his gentle nature. For those that knew him thru some of the more recent trying times, it was not fun, not pleasant but without doubt he did win the hearts of a few that ceaselessly continued to help him in these last years, namely sister Rosalyn her children and her childhood friend Joanie. Without them his life would have been extremely difficult. None the less, the last few years he fell deeper than many.

Life is strange, we are one consciousness moving thru the consciousness of the earth. If one falls we all fall, if one rises we all rise. Of course this is not apparent to most and is left for the sages to deal with. He was my brother, i remember, he remembered, our love was too deep to be destroyed.

Here i am. I returned to my homeland to find him in major need. Close relatives and neighbours were tempted to throw him out with the dish water. I need not describe his living conditions. Of all eight kids, he was the most meticulous and tidy sibling of us all. What happened? I have an idea. Not here. I scolded him. He listened, Thanked me, acted on this and made amends as best he could, right up into the end. Good job Al.

Somehow i got things moving and he ended up in the hospital. I visited him everyday before i left on my return flight west. We talked serious, said our goodbyes, hugged each other, i kissed his forehead last. I hurt, leaving the hospital. I asked a few relatives to visit. They did and brought others and filled Allyn's life with comfort in his last few days. You all know who you are and what you did. On the behalf of my brother Allyn i am so thankful that you stepped up, Darlaine, Denise and family and more… Joe Hiller, Rosa. We are family, somewhat scattered, fragmented, but still with the dignity to care.

I'll miss you Allyn, I already do as many will and we might question, 'can we help someone today, can we help ourselves to be a better person than we were yesterday'. Simple, but it is what Allyn would want. I know him, i knew him, it breaks my heart to let go, it seems that is all we do in this life, hang on, let go.

It's not fare. We wait till someone dies before we tell them all the things we couldn't say when alive. I know this is not completely true…. there are reasons that get in the way. In Allyn's case he was somewhat inaccessible the last years. So that is the way it was. Maybe we can do a little better with someone else.

We are not our brothers keeper, a famous sage once said. So you do the best you can, but make sure it is the best, then you must let life run its course. I know a few that did that with Allyn, they tried, i tried. In my mind, Allyn won the war. The last days showed his true real self. Not one of us can really point a finger at another without having three pointing back, straight into your soul. So let us leave it at that.

We now have no choice but to look at our own mortality. That is what death does. We are finite. We can not relive anything from the past. Reminiscing can make one sad, pleasant, fulfilled, empty but we have no choice, in reality, it doesn't exist any longer and move on one must. So we are gathered now to say goodbye. In the mind, things linger, but Allyn is gone. We will all be gone soon enough so i thank all here for being here sharing of what you have, what you are, what you ain't. Knowing Allyn possibly better than anyone here, he had a gentle spirit and i am truly glad that he was and is my brother.

We all wonder what happens after we leave here. Some believe they know. I don't. I believe it is and will remain a mystery. All belief is make believe, so believe what you want it matters not to what truly is. I know Allyn is not the first or last to leave to where ever it is we go, but he is the last brother of mine and that was a life time of love thru all the differences and agony, the good times, sincere, sacred and real… that part will fade as the winds of time blow across our minds…. thanks Allyn

PS: i read to Allyn on the phone, a few days before he left from what became my blog ST105 ... things have all cleared up

Eminent death tends to do that.

Allyn really appreciated what i had written, he said, 'Thanks Pat, i loved that, except for the last part'. He didn't like to hear of my possible destiny. That was the last time we spoke. "I love you pat", I love you Al"

There are so many things that could be spoken here of precious moments from the past, they will linger in my heart, till time stands still.

Thanks Mark for stepping up for me, to you all from, uncle pat, patrick.

In parting

In parting we go our way
through the bramble of the day
memories stumble along with love
wavering from that stage above
for it not for the lust for life
that keeps us tangled up in night
with all the jewels of pure miracles
transforming all wrongs right
and with this simple sacred wind
death but a mirror within
we say our goodbyes sincere
and move on down the road again

patrick

Aug 16 2024 / Me and my Dog, Kachi

Kachi, is my best friend. She and i travel everywhere together. There is that sense of belonging when we hop into the car to go somewhere. She has her own way of doing everything. I let her be, to be herself as often as i can. She is never on a leach anymore. She waits for me by the door to the cafe, and anywhere else i may go. She is well known now, in our town here.

I asked her the other day. "What do you think of all these people" as we were sitting outside of my favourite cafe, 'The Garage Cafe'. She looked around, "I like that old woman there, She looks pleasant, she rubbed my belly the other day, her touch was like ecstasy, gentle, almost ticklish. She spoke soft. Yea i liked her. There's a lot of strange people. You know that. I see you looking at them with your blank soft piecing gaze. I know we feel the same about most out there. Some are great and many are dull—— hey what's with that setter, handsome, frivolous, beautiful coat".

Ok, i get it buddy. "Lets get outa here, go for a walk".

Sept 27 2024 Religion

It's all about memory, the information embedded in the air, in the trees, in the waterways, the stones, crystals, metals, soil. A christian feels christ in his church, the molsem Ala in the mosgue, the jew, abraham in the synagog, a dead medicine man in the sweat lodge, long house, tp. Peyote ceremonies fetching in the scriptures of the earth around, the ancestors, the visions laying in the sands of the desert, growing in the fruit of the medicine.

Divine inspiration hanging around the terrains of the followers. The christian finds jesus, the buddhist__ buddha, the moslem__ ala……..you are the picture. Memory gets imbedded in the surrounding terrain and like antenna to the stars, alien broadcasts___ as the terrain the reciever and antenna of signals specific from time memorable, you are what you think, you think what you remember.

The bible, koran, torah, hindu gita, ancient scriptures from around the world, all inaccurate human interpretations from the eternal source, built on and built on finding answers and discrepancies till they're arguing against each other from minds condemned to beliefs torn from the source acting out a religion.

Consciousness as a free spirit moving thru time, thru memory, thru the terrains of solidified thought without any patriotism to any particular belief is the free man, the guru of no scripture, the medicine man with no home. The man of no time.

Oct 18 2024 / i've been running about dylan, schauberger…

i've been running about like everyone else trying to make sense of this strange existence here on this clump of dust we call earth. In these times there are threats of annihilation of numerous species and alterations setting this planet in a direction with little return to the harmonious existence it has had for zillions of years….nuclear they call it. Somehow, here i am, living in these times. An identity, a consciousness, a being surrounded by a vast conglomeration of conclusions mostly reason based for everything from the beginning of this universe to the pressure in a cocacola can. Reason has its place i tend to believe but truth, if there is such a thing, is of some other sphere, not easily boxed in as a concept. Of course, with all that being said, how can i know…what is knowing, it moves so fast, probably instantaneous…. just a guess.

I spend my life thinking these thoughts, readjusting them, manipulating them, adding subtracting creating disintegrating…. it's a life, whom is to judge. It has not brought in much money and on this planet in these times that has been problematic. I'm too old to readjust that area of my life. No inheritance as many have had, career choices void of B plans.

This is it. What have i learned. I think the most important soul i had found besides having B Dylan along in my ride, and thank god for that, was Viktor Schauberger. I tend to find the foundational elements of things that i have based my understanding upon. That is why Dylan had affected me enormously. He realized the great understanding of story telling right from the beginning and rather than writing novels stories poems he chose words entwined with music. This was the times. Rock and roll of the fifties took the world by storm, folk music was the choice of the intellectuals, he blended the two like no other. No one had done it. No young poet had envisioned this. And with the advent of marijuana moving from the Beat times into the main stream of the outcasts of the sixties with the advent of LSD and future psychedelics moving the minds of humanity into the unknown realms of 'love'. Dylan threw himself into these times like no other and a whole breed of nu-comers followed along, all to their own tunes, the world of art was transforming and the controllers on the top were worried…..their control was being found out, anti establishment was the trend… no more wars….anywhere, in the mind, on the ground. a new awareness of the poets of past was stretching across the globe.

Viktor Saw a different problem for humanity thru out the 30's, 40's into the fifties which is when he died, 1958 at 84 poor as so many other visionaries, Tesla, , , etc.

Nov 15 2024 - Everybody wants you to believe what they believe.... it's the nature of thought, of belief

Everybody has an answer, especially if you tell them you have none. From jesus, to budha, you name it…whatever one believes they want you to believe. I don't care. I'm sick of so many convinced they got the answer, the way, the happy, the beauty, the money. From up here in the mountains, from down there in the valley, i can see we are all lost sheep…don't bullshit me with your new confirmed belief in whatever. Especially you, the ones that have hardly looked, sittin in your million dollar home, your fancy jewels surrounding your dome..telling me you love me, care for me, give me texted hugs, x and o's…come on, get real. There is nothing in your cathedral but gold glazed slave labour, high ceilings, echos of silence mistaken for the word of god…. it's all in your imagination, but you're convinced it's the real thing. I don't need your serene gaze, your glossy eyes, your sympathy.. i've got the real thing, beauty beyond the noice of desperation, the false formats of fear driven faith…..i see the light in the dark, the beauty in the ugly, the gods in the forest, the truth changing eternally……. but you tell me, be happy, pray in the church, find jesus, surrender to the abstract.. no thanks.

It's like telling jesus to go into the cathedral when he was in his moments of doubt lost out there in the desert. Your opinion of jesus is no better than mine. You have no lock on the truth of whatever was, is, might be. The arrogance of believers always astounds me. They are all just words. The word of god is no word at all….but you can't see that. You want so desperately to have your belief be the truth, the ultimate understanding, the surrendering of your questions to the domain of the lord..but it is all just words, concepts, beliefs, abstracts, illusions…….the mind has tricked you, us, all humanity.

I see, now i don't, now i do…. that's the nature of the mind. I can't change you and i don't care to, but you believers just can't stop yourself from demanding everyone believe as you.

Comment on the blog please……. don't email me your comments….let the world view your mind as i do. It's just a mind, nobody owns it, it's a contradiction, partly truth and partly fiction.

You think it's yours, who ever you are…. it is owned by nothing, that is what it tells me, whom knows.

PS: i do visit cathedrals, but not specifically to talk to Him, god….nonsense. It is quiet inside the cathedrals, I am quiet inside in the noice of the streets… the mystery is everywhere, no place more than any other…. tho admidst nature seems to resonate deeper within my being.

life is a paragraph between two blank pages that the words in the paragraph can never know

Nov 15 2024 ... SMA... there is no time to waste

The city is filling. Friday night is here. I like it here but i wish i had a few friends i could chat with about anything. The news about the north, the presidential moves. The world is on edge. The u s military complex is freaking out…. maybe, it could be a part of the game. Us little guys down here in the trenches don't really know. It's all a guessing game. I have absolutely no fear one way or the other and i don't have jesus or any another super power to rely upon. I am absolutely fine with the nature of reality. It's a mess and it's beautiful. I know that most can not understand this attitude…. and i don't care.

I am certain that i can not understand anything for certain… with thought. It is a tool, very useful for shifting around reason and making machines to do anything and go anywhere, but i don't believe the mystery behind all this communicates with thought, if at all. It could all be just a process set on a path from eternity to eternity. The point is that it is not knowable, no matter how many nouns you throw to the wind, the answer is always an illusion upon a verb.

Nov26 2024 / ST124 ... Mexico is a piece of land in the beginnings

Mexico is a piece of land in the beginnings, the southern part of what we call North America. I have lived here a few times in the last fifty years. There are aspects that have been consistent in this period of time. Mexicans are generally much more family oriented than the Northern cousins of the USA and Canada. One reason for that is simply that the heritage of the people are of fewer descendants, Spanish, and the native tribes, the 90 indigenous peoples before the Europeans, predominately the Spaniards, arrived.

In the north there are many more of the European descendants, Spanish, British, Portuguese, Irish, Scottish, German, French, Chinese, Polish, Scandinavian and more. That mixture amongst many other factors broke the family bond for numerous reasons. At any rate here in Mexico the family bond is much tighter and that makes an enormous difference in the culture as a whole. That is one main reason many foreigners prefer it here.

You can walk out into the streets where people of all ages and sex will greet you, smile authentically and are polite beyond the coldness that has permeated in temperatures of the heart and soul of the north.

I am one of those Northerners that really appreciates the warmth of the Mexican heart. Don't misinterpret my naivety of the many problems that have and still face the Mexican people but over all there is still a closer connection to family wide spread amidst the classes that makes a huge difference to a person as myself, here, out in the streets of Mexico.

I will never be a connected person of this society but i do and will find true friends amongst them. I am too old to worry about all the differences that mend the people here. I am satisfied to be away from the 'disconnect' of the people of the north….. my family, my friends, my associates, though i miss them dearly at times, i have chose this lifestyle. We all have to live and die somewhere.

The culture here is rich in heart. Many ceremonies, celebrations, in every territory thru-out the land. Here in San Miguel de Allende there are numerous expats and activities catering to their needs. I myself avoid most of that and live in a neighborhood of predominately Mexican families. I am constantly learning Spanish to enhance my relations here.

I photograph in the streets as i have done for over half a century and still find the challenge to get an excellent shot. There are so many, yet so few that really speak volumes, so i write, as i also have done for decades of the passing thoughts that entangle themselves within me.

Here is a taste of the atmosphere surrounding.

Dec 3 2024 ... the night was dark and steep

the night was dark and steep, i didn't have any promises to keep
the streets were empty the lights where bare
i didn't see her anywhere
i wandered out i took my heart
thru it out over the ledge
dangled it off the dreams and hung it over the edge
i was flyin high, i had been there before
drank the poison
i didn’t know why
it was time to go
in the other end of town
she was coming around
been out all night or more
found nothin that she was lookin for
jumped back in, sat all around
for years she was giving good
than something happened and she couldn't
left that very next night
and never saw her again
me, I'm still headin down the road
takin what i can find
left my home in ontario
and flew back to see what i could see
nothing there for me no more
all the friends i once knew
doin things i could never do
so im back out and if things don't change
ill be hangin my head within shootin range
of all the things i could have been
i ended up here writin to you
you with no head, no brains, no mind
a fragment of my imagination
fadin out over across the sea of time
swimmin calm and thinking low
that's me, time to go

Dec 5 2024 ... in the silence of the dessert

in the silence of the dessert
where the chimes of life disappear
and the air across the fields
falls quiet and tender thru my mind
i have no answers for anyone, anything
no questions tear away at my skull
no fantasies to cherish

my house empty sits in the corner by the edge
it is imagined and may present itself someday
the property is small, sufficient and is waiting patiently
possibly the money needed will enlist itself
fall from the sky, caress my heart from those that have
the future is not mine to see, que sera, sera
what ever will be might be
a grasshopper just landed on my lap to see
this dessert where there is only silence and me

someday i will be near again
time is weaving its claws around me
it will have its way no matter what i say
all these words will crumple into dust
there is nothing that will not rust
everything moves in and out of existence
time and thought and the mystery always content
there is only silence here and vanishing intent

Dec 9 2024 ... to be honest, is that possible.

To be honest. It is so hard to see, to catch a glimpse of what is hiding. To force the shadow into the light, to see the treacherous thoughts escaping form, actions i wished did not exist. I am on the edge of uncertainty and yet i know i have lied with tricky thought to you, myself, the universe. It is difficult to see what one has hidden so well, to uncover the manipulated words that have painted a deep dark purple across the skies of my mind. I am no different than you, the desire to fly free, to be high above the clouded mindscapes, to get what i want, when i want it, no matter what the consequence. I fell, we all have fallen, from the grace of a child to the adventure of the restless youth, we have sinned again and again and hidden it deep within. That is normal, we are normal. It is normal to keep the darkness hidden, to lighten it up from time to time with penance and gratitude.

Honesty is difficult in a mind that is aware of the mystery in everything. There is nothing to be honest to, and yet somehow we know what is pure, true, real and 'honest'. I have lied, to myself to others to conceal my weakness. In the time it takes to uncover the wall separating truth from fiction, truth has moved on… and so it is, so it is with fiction.

This is a fine example of twisting the air with a fake breeze to make a point that doesn't exist. That is how it is done. Complex lies…. they are ok, most of the time. I am not a psychopath, a schizophrenic or anyone of the many mind and brain labels for unusual behavior by our modern medical scriptures. We all fit into some ones description somewhere. I am normal, i presume and have presumed this all my life.

How to uncover your lies? I have found thought and its thinking to be incredibly useful but it can only take you so far it appears, then one must dive into the abyss.. via, psycedelics, vision quests, sweat lodge ceremonies, and numerous other trance inducing, ego eliminating procedures. There is walking, running, swimming, and numerous other body exercise types of focusing that can also help in uncovering what is hidden by your own mind and nature herself, but they are not as efficient and lasting. There are others, but what ever procedure one attempts to exercise, the dark, the shadow wants to be free, light, aware of itself…. though, that is not how it appears.

Be honest, we all lie.

Dec 10 2024 get saved

save the jews
save the arabs
save the christians
save the children, the blacks, the forest, the waters, the gods and devils
save my soul
save beliefs
save me save you
save my money
save me honey
save the indians
save walt, save marilyn, kennedy, democracy,
save saving
and other savings:
organized chaos
genetic transformation
social investments
devious accounts

save jesus muhammad oprah abraham dylan john led-z the-new-comers the-many the-few me and you

save the forest the climate the link to the stars, the energy the machine the love

'.the man in me would hide sometime, to keep from being seen, but that's just because he doesn't want to turn into some machine' dylan from the ‘man in me’ from the ‘new morning’ album early seventies

'the joker in me would come out sometime to hide me from the rest, but that's just because i was hiding from the crowd to get a little rest' me

Dec 13 / the promised land for the frozen few by a non-follower....

it's written in the bible so it must be true, the promised land for the frozen few. It's the time, the land for the jew, from sea to sea as promised by god, kill whom ever you need too, to receive what is due.

I have talked to god about all this and she says they are nuts, bonzoes, psychopaths. No matter how heavy their believe goes, their god is not my god. My god doesn't kill for useless reasons, that's the devil in them talking, acting. Love doesn't work that way. My love is simple, as truth, as beauty, as life, as the mystery. I don't need any scripture to teach me the way, the way is embedded in my body, the temple of the sacred.

These promises are false, insane desires to know, thought gone astray, clever words for selfish minds. Nothing in this universe can convince me that this destruction of life, of nature is from a loving god…. that is pure bullshit for weak minds that want to belong to something, anything, a fantasy from crazy leaders in need of a following to perform their nonsense. I will have nothing to do with it. The poor of these world religions want what nature has given us, a mystery not to understand but experience its reality in love, real love, true love, love that is not promised, not for a chosen few, not me, not you, not jew.

My god feels right, real, true and still a mystery…

Continue your killing for beliefs from dead words in disintegrating text; my words are from the trees, the waters, the winds, the stars…….. if you want to know what jesus, buddha, mohammad, and all the rest of the sages knew, go to the dessert, go to the mountains, the plains, but don't follow the promised land for the frozen few words from dead poets, dead saints, dead minds of convient misinterpretations. Ask questions if you must, but do the work, awakening is not for the lazy, the selfish, the easy way out, words that die slow over eons of wasted hearts.

I'm not perfect, i don't love well, but i know one thing for sure and that is with words, thought, belief, nothing is for certain, a paradox, yes, but one that makes one human, vulnerable, a creature that can know the sacred thru the temple of our being………… all this taking of land, objects, minds has nothing to do with god, with the great mystery, with love, with the heart of humanity. I have no leader, no, guides yes, allies, and ways to the way; the heart - is the way, it knows.

Dec 15 2024 / he was created

He was created with a few words. His mannerism was not his own but taken from a few well designed paragraphs, it became obvious from then on, on who he was. His name was jeremy allyn wye. HIs ancestors came from a small country between germany and france and so his ancestors spoke both languages but they originated from the wye river area of wales a couple of centuries before. They ended up in america, the land of the free and the brave, but he was neither, well not to the extent of the romanticized. He was unique, as they stated, once he was gone, dead, deceased. His love for freedom was obvious as years bent into the walled chambers of societies lead. Nothing mattered to him more than the beauty of things, whether it was from a single strand of hair from his lovers neck, a roaring wave of salt water smashing against the Cliffs of Moher, or a sun wray glistening thru the fineness of a flowering eucalyptus, or a simple child walking to school along a boulevard of a city morning. Beauty was everywhere in his eyes, freedom wasn't, nor was he brave, he was an imaginary character in search of another blank predestined page. An illusion as us all, an illustration sketched up from day to day, a creation of words, beliefs, fragments of imagination attempting to exist on a page of eternity for longer than a moment or two.

Jeremy in his last days lived in what is called Mexico, though he grew up in Canada and lived thru out the United States he settled in the back hills of a semi dessert adobe one room home in the centre of the country.

He was a mixture of sentences, some short and some long from his many experiences with siblings and friends surrounding his air. Life was relatively simple throughout his childhood. He lived in a small city of European dissent, German, Scottish, Irish, French, Polish and more. There were few indians, the North American type, tho he had one friend half Mohawk thru-out his childhood. He never understood the depth of the psychological issues that emerged from his friend till many years later. Once he was in a sweat lodge ceremony in a major prison in Canada with an elder he hung around with. He was a helper and was in the sweat with thirty or so inmates. That changed his understanding of the issues that bombarded the minds of the first nation peoples. Many troubled souls from many different tribes that for centuries were enemies, some friends, traders, a way of life that spanned eons of time till the white man entered with their christian religion and arrogant science and well hid behind their pursuits of a simple way of life, more land and freedom than their home from across the great waters would supply. It became a mess for the indian. He felt the red mans helplessness and sincerity and depth in that sweat.

Jeremy carried these wounds as he wandered about the sands of America. He could feel it in the indian, half indian, full blooded white red yellow and black, all the people. We are all the same, us humans, he felt, but now there is a new problem, racism is nothing in comparison to the 'trans', trans humans, part machine, a-sexual, trans sexual, trans-love. We are on the brink of becoming part digital and what will suffer is empathy, compassion, a basic trait of being human, being animal. We are in the process of selling our souls for data, reasonable knowledge, sterile love. It's a big topic, but one that will not last long, it is happening and happenning fast. I have no idea how to stop it, whether it should be stopped, if it can be stopped. The world is run by money-greed-power… by a few in comparison to the many. There are agendas that do not favor love, empathy, but only more control, more power…. at any cost.

Are aliens watching, it appears so, some friendly, some not. Will i live again, will my seed go back into the eternal grace of the universe. Will i be done with this, will i be done, lost erased. It was fun being i, but not always. I have learned absolutely nothing for certain. Life is for living it appears, experience, be gentle, kind, care as best as one can, that all seems embedded in the nature of man, that is how i percieve it, it is obvious that not all of us humans are created with this, i presume. All this will come to an end….when i die, but also it is coming to an end if mankind continues with its infatuation with logical-knowing maneuvered into more and more power-control hungry soul like creatures. That is where we are heading if we don't wake up…. many of us, not just a few.

It appears to be a zionist (non-real-jewish) group of blood-line families that span over 2500 years with an agenda that does not include the common folk from all races. They have utilized mans weakness mentally, sexually, spiritually to fulfill this belief system embedded in their minds, their off-spring, their allusions spread across time like a disease, a virus, misinterpreted visions to captivate the world and all of its life forms………….. sounds crazy, yes indeed. There appears to be more and more evidence surfacing to conclude that there is indeed something happenning to this nature almost too unreal to believe in its possibility.

In my quest i have found no certainty anywhere…. that can last for a moment or many trillion, but as more and more data arrives upon the tables of mankind, nothing much surprises me. It is an adventure, a journey with numerous beliefs, conclusions, all moving across the universe in a paper cup, down there where nothing is real and nothing to get hung about, those strawberry fields wavering across my skies.

Jeremy was my brother. I have had many brothers. They have entered and gone their ways, some are living, most are dead.

I write from the dessert sands of Mexico. Out my door a valley folds into a ravine and up again to the hills towards the mountains and beyond. Today the sun comes and goes as the light in my heart, for my love is traveling to distant shores. I am human. I trust in nature. I believe in mystery and that tears my beliefs apart, bends it into words falling endlessly into the shadows of my mind…..and there i feel silent, eternal…….it comes, it goes, as love does.

Dec 22 2024 / the darkest night of the year

i never saw it coming, the deepest darkest night
i must have been sleepin while the world was falling apart
she told me in so many words, thoughts i couldn't understand
it's the price i pay for walkin away when i could have been in her arms
the longest night the heaviest times, if i ever make it thru
the strange ways the creator plays i can never understand
so much pain, so much grieve when these moments enter hard
there is only one way outa here and that's straight thru this darkest night

she told me she would love me until the sun sets
i suppose she was right as she left in the middle of the night
with her strangled heart and a body full of life
she left me dangling off the ledge, the edge of light

i had it comin, i had been told, i see no regrets
out here on the road of life things happen that way
keep your eyes open and your heart close
there won't be any rewards waitin at the end of the day
it's this long dark night that has a hold on me
but ill make it thru somehow, no matter what, some way
shadows disappear in the darkness
offering up the light of the night
that's what i can see

continue to ST125 for more of this collection

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