Dreams are cheap entertainment

[stilltrucking]

the lid is closed
the last sense to go is hearing
I hope my sense of smell is the first to go
I hear the clumps of dirt hitting the lid I hear the worms
..........I wait patiently for memory to leak from molecules

All dressed up and nowhere to go
Fear is as good a reason to believe as any I suppose
It is hard work pushing up daisies. I feel the sun on my face.
as I transmute from God to God
"GOD is not mocked except by believers." St Anne of Sexton

[abstroint]

History
Taught in schools is too bright
Lacking most of its darker tones
Till college, where denial is the response

I won’t deny
When young
I feed my fish to death
The kissing ones always looked hungry
Lesson learned:
Compassion has the potential to kill

I remember being scared that my nose could
Be plucked right off my face, when very small
A thumb does resemble a nose
“Don’t cut off your nose to spite your face!”
Poor Mr. Potato Head with the pluckable nose
No, I won’t make the incision myself
Plastic surgery is Potato Heady

Many people have too many highlights in their past
“Remember the good stuff.”
Taken too literally
I know I wasn’t the only one feeding my fish to death

I may have to concede to the idea that nature is dominant over nurture
Nurture creates many of the paths traveled, but nature always wins in the end
I know it’s not right to steal but given the choice between stealing and starving?
Even if my convictions are strong
When nature takes over my brain
I can’t say I will never eat another human’s flesh
Somewhere it’s taboo not to

Riotous all knowing, only light beings, will have you believe that
Under no circumstances would they ever succumb but
Nature is the first and last controller of the mind
Nurture it while you still can, but remember:
Compassion has the potential to kill

[~K]

Fear is
the only
reason.

Doesn't
everybody
know this?

Comfort doesn't
seem to much
to ask for

if we shut up
& do as
we are told.



3 nights ago...

I dreamed of broken dolls
serving as faces for buses
& sub-marines.
One smiled as I passed
& I waved & thought it couldn't hurt
to have one on my side.

[mousey1]

I seek cremation

but even so, this be a pretty good poem!

Daisy food...not a bad way to go.

Humor in death...I like

Leave em laughin'

[stilltrucking]

I remember how cheerfully I used to sing this song when I was a kid.

The worms crawl in the worms crawl out
The ants play pinochle on your scalp

I thought about cremation
But it ain’t kosher
Not that I am kosher

If I had my druthers I would like burial at sea
And my coffin would be a forty-foot ketch.

I died happy

It ain’t easy living with the faith of a heretic
But I do
I am still a coward after all these years.
Fear is the father of lies.

In a long black veil she cries o’er my bones.

and waters my daisies

Thank you all
you made lemonade from a sour old lemon

[judih]

your quote, Still T from "Long Black Veil",
traditional folk song

but i like the line about 'all dressed up and nowhere to go'

imagine the conversation of those waitin to be delivered
waiting for the chariot
waitin for reincarnation

all dressed up
listening till the hearing gives up the ghost

[stilltrucking]

no deposit no return no ghost
just the holy spirit

You know I could be wrong
Just the faith of a heretic.
I don't want no truck with the supernatural.



I just want to go naturally. Who knows in ten billion years all those molecules and atoms may get back together in an egg and a sperm cell and I might get back right here with the very same social security number and typing these very words again.

It is going to be a long wait for me. I want to take the long way home. Bit by bit, molecule by molecule down to atoms and electrons I decompose and my spirit is caught up in the cosmic swirl does a grand tour of the milky way, slips on through a black whole to the other side. And out of the flux/void And into the eternal return and in a billion thousand years I come on back to the same womb.


the Sermon of the Inanimate. "Do the inanimate preach the Doctrine?"

Ye who seek for purity and peace, go to Nature. She will give you more than ye ask. Ye who long for strength and perseverance, go to Nature. She will train and strengthen you. Ye who aspire after an ideal, go to Nature. She will help you in its realization. Ye who yearn after Enlightenment, go to Nature. She will never fail to grant your request.

http://www.web-books.com/Classics/Nonfi ... aiC4P6.htm







you all honor me
thank you.

travelling music from john prine how did he get so old,

Make me an angel that flies from montgomry
Make me a poster of an old rodeo
Just give me one thing that I can hold on to
To believe in this living is just a hard way to go

[stilltrucking]

I don't want to edit no more

I woke from another dream, and had to write this.

just to say the supernatural don't mean much to me

Just what I don't understand

I have seen too many special effects from hollywood.

Ghosts too

I believe in dust

Star dust.

They are all part of nature

How many quarks can sit on the head of a needle

I heard they come in flavors

"And every couple thousand years a little genie comes along and pisses on the pillars of science" from My First Two Thousand Years quoted from memory

I believe in alchemy and magic and the eyes of a child

This is not creative, just a GO

Was Sun Ra born the night stars fell on Alabama?

[Ann Bingham]

interesting read is all I can mustar at the moment. Death, not something i like thinking about. Just thought i'd let you know i read, and now it has me thinking. ee gads the thoughts.


love lots
Deb.

[stilltrucking]

to miss one so loving. just to hear the voice, to feel the touch. to get to know a little better. Just thoughts.

http://www.studioeight.tv/phpbb/viewtopic.php?t=7129

Not to blame mousey1 but her poem kick started me on this one.

No reason for you to think about it. I am just a sick old man trying to kill himself with cigarettes because I miss the touch so much. I feel like the Wandering Jew and I must tarry until she returns. Keep the faith sister. I suppose you went to church when you were a kid, sunday school, children's books of bible stories.

It is all true I am sure. Keep the faith. No sarcasm, I think we shape our own ends. Mayb rest your head on our Saviors breast and the Good Lord spirit you away before the devil knows you are dead.
If I can paraphrase Kris Kristopherson, "I am a walking contradiction partly truth and partly fiction, taking every wrong direction on my lonely way back home."

This was pretty much inspired by a mushroom hallucination. Jimboloco tells me that it is a Zen thing that consciousness lingers after death until the body is gone. I suppose that is why Buddhists do cremation. I read somewhere that near death experiences have something to do with the limbic nervous system which survives for a while after brain death

And yet, for all his detachment, Santayana could be horrified
at any effort to supplant God’s authority in our lives with a vulgar
secular humanism; he reacted with scarcely controlled religious
passion and outraged piety to a scene he witnessed when an
Italian, a “short fat middle-aged man,” spoke to his little daughter
in a way intended to disabuse her of her Christian beliefs: “I saw
the claw of Satan strike that child’s soul and try to kill the idea of
God in it.

…..It is certainly true that Santayana’s definition, “Poetry is
called religion when it intervenes on life,” (Interpretations of
Poetry and Religion v) is not likely to win over many disciples
from established creeds