Now! More than ever - 8 Day Miracle Jam

[Lightning Rod]

doreen bought me a watch for my birthday. I wear it, but I rarely look at it ecxept to admire it. I guess I've just gotten out of the habit. I know what time it is. Now.

Miracles are only amazing when we don't understand them. A bounty of circumstance? A criminal act? A fond superstition? The wild hair in my mustache?

My choice is to Be Here Now. I never look at my watch, but I love to wear it.

[Arcadia]

after two months without a watch
my father bought me one
(silver rectangular montreal with brown reddish cream arabesques)
do you have a map of the south of Brasil or the south of Buenos Aires?
I had some but I lost them

[Lightning Rod]

Time is a mechanism, a machine. It grinds away on billions of wrists.

We are the real time machines. Indelible memories. Snapshots in meat.

And then the generations. Grandfather clocks. Weighted replicas of time.

[judih]

my sister likes swiss
she bought us watches
they swiss on us
and sometimes without us

[dcwodtke]

what day is this? what
place arrives at a miracle?
two geese above us

[judih]

sweet smell of firewood
cold air, hands in gloves
meteors shoot the breeze

[dcwodtke]

I know your game
learned it early
from a schoolyard bully

You appear to me
as one who's very happy
to be angry with all you see
and everyone you meet

life's sweetness for you is bitter;
all love to you is sentimental
and meets with your disdain.

You make yourself tall
by decapitation
But you are sad...
this is how you hide your pain.

You there behind the veil
You play with death
You wear black armour
Always ready for a fight

Because you think it's cool
and you are right.
But you are dead already
and need a miracle bad
a bad miracle--bad to the bone;

good miracles are not good
enough for you, no, yours
will be big and hot like you,
A firey spear will penetrate
that heart of stone.

That's my hope, my prayer.
I was your dope. I coddled your fear
but no more. For I have been blessed
by the white light of death in this life
and I am here.

This game's not over.

[perezoso]

[judih]

de la pasa
ma casa
del curazon

(sometimes a good fake
is worth all the reals in the world)

[perezoso]

marionette plaza
puppets
of speculation
twitching
concupiscence
on corporate
strings




el muñeco

[stilltrucking]

Sincerity, if you can fake that you got it made
monday ramble not a jam but it is all I got now

Remember outside the mind...

what day is this? what
place arrives at a miracle?
two geese above us

sweet smell of firewood
cold air, hands in gloves
meteors shoot the breeze

three strands of barbed wire
between texas and north pole
summer to winter overnight
fifty degree drop in temperature in 24 hours
cold wind strips leaves from wind
I can't be a fair weather walker
lazy bones won't cooperate
time for captain Zen to save my ass
cold mornings bring back pains from every insult
every broken bone every punch that hit home
I suppose it would be an oxymoron to call Zen a miracle
but it sure seems that way to me
walk walk walk
not talk talk talk
every step is a leap of faith
the mechanics of walking
walking is a controlled fall
one step forward and the body falls forward
then another step and gravity puts the weight on that foot,
I have got a long way to fall
I can't write haiku
sitting here naked with the heat on, I can't write a ku until I step out that door.
no center, no shower, no clothes no shoes, what will drive me now is the desire to let those two three liners write one too.

de la pasa
ma casa
del curazon

Did you know Babel Fish name is from the DNA novel The Hitchhikers Guide to The Galaxy ,
Well I was babel-ing and google-ing those three lines and it led me to this, it sort of seems to relate

In his Rede Lecture at Cambridge, in May 1959, C. P. Snow

describes two wars: one in the late nineteenth century between religion and science, and the other in the second half of the twentieth century between the sciences and humanities.1 In a recent article in Science titled "Deconstructing the Science Wars by Reconstructing an Old Mold," Stephen Jay Gould quotes Snow's article and attempts to find a "golden mean," or the aurea mediocritus of Horace and Aristotle for the undeclared war between the sciences and the humanities.2 The former represents all working scientists that generally uphold the objective and progressive nature of scientific knowledge, dubbed "realists," and the latter, all of the humanities and social sciences, where postmodernists regard all claims to truth to be culturally embedded, including science. In fact, the truth claims in science are considered as social constructs with their own conventions and arbitrariness.

Objectivity and Subjectivity in Human KnowledgeThe polarization between objective-realism and subjective-relativism created by social constructivists represents a false dichotomy based on a misunderstanding of scientific truth claims. This misunderstanding has arisen from a misrepresentation of what science actually entails. It is an objectivist myth that science is based on a fully general method, rooted in observation and experimentation, by minds consciously free of bias, using universal tools of reason to accumulate reliable knowledge, steadily and inexorably. In fact, as with all human activities, science is and always will remain part of human culture. Despite their best efforts to remain objective, scientists are human, subject to emotional and even irrational vagaries, and reluctant to give up cherished and established theories even in view of anomalies that question their accepted norms.3 A classic example is the manner in which Wegener was ostracized and ridiculed by colleagues for his theory of tectonic plates in 1915.4 Wegener supported his work with extensive geological research but died in 1930 as an intellectual outcast. Now, almost seventy years after his death, his idea is accepted as common wisdom.

http://www.asa3.org/ASA/PSCF/2001/PSCF9-01Touryan.html


"every few thousand years a little genie comes along and pisses on the pillars of science" not sure but I think that is from The Wandering Jew by Eugene Sue

[perezoso]

S
T
F
U

[dcwodtke]

falling forward is
the real science of miracles
two goldfinches in a bare tree could be
but most choose the zen stick
instead swinging it at everthing
in sight

[perezoso]

Spinoza thought miracles as plausible as
the Easter Bunny; he was joined in that
view by the wit Hume--
indeed the idea if not word is
nauseating,
to those who've rejected
the ghostly loom--

We are, after the chaff is thrown out
speaking about human actions,
and how they should be
conditioned:
and though I have not
the poesy to show it:
yr just another meat puppet-

[Lightning Rod]

zoso, are we getting terse in our old age?