Sunday, May 31, 2015

Feeling Down, Talking to a Goddess

For the riches I have -- which I cannot lay one coin upon.
For the memories I carry.-- that I may still think.
For what strengths I still have -- though not what they were.
For the joy still to come.
For dreams I will manifest.
For love I will share.
For visions.
For tears -- because I can grieve.
For fear -- because I know I still live.
For darkness -- to sooth aching eyes and heart.
For sunlight on my skin, caressing.
For my body that still works -- well enough.

All else is acid and gangrene and rust
Let me open my hands
Pour dross through my fingers.

I will learn gratitude. One day.
                        May 29th 2015
Al Katerinsky May the LORD bless you and guard you –
יְבָרֶכְךָ יהוה, וְיִשְׁמְרֶךָ
(Yevhārēkh-khā Adhōnāy veyishmerēkhā ...)

May the LORD make His face shed light upon you and be gracious unto you –
יָאֵר יהוה פָּנָיו אֵלֶיךָ, וִיחֻנֶּךָּ
("Yāʾēr Adhōnāy pānāw ēlekhā viḥunnékkā ...)
May the LORD lift up His face unto you and give you peace –
יִשָּׂא יהוה פָּנָיו אֵלֶיךָ, וְיָשֵׂם לְךָ שָׁלוֹם
("Yissā Adhōnāy pānāw ēlekhā viyāsēm lekhā shālōm.")

             Al’s answer to my whine

So... this gratitude thing.
I still want to stamp my little feet
throw rocks at the sun
and fuss
shake my fisties cry not be a grownup at all at all
                        May 29th 2015

Question for Hecate (May 30, 2015)

“Grandmother, how do I stop making the wrong decisions in my life, and by ‘wrong’ I mean detrimental to my comfort in this life?”

Ha! Who said anything about your comfort? Suck it up, Buttercup and shine! That’s what is ‘right’.
No matter what you feel, no matter how tired you are.
If you’re tired, dance harder! Don’t stop.
You’re taking yourself too seriously.  How? Why? Silly, childish questions.  The answer is ALWAYS
Because. That’s why.
You’re being a whiny, overtired brat right now.
Go sleep. Eat something. Breathe. Have some sex for fuck’s sake. Then come talk to me about ‘How’ and ‘Why’.
I’ll tell you right now, kid.  The answer will still be Because. That’s why.
Have your tantrum child.  It will not disturb me. It is all right. Mourn what you feel are your losses then you might begin to understand what blessings they truly are. Oh – and be grateful for people who listen to your tantrums and bless you with their love and attention anyway.
I will not cease loving you or showing you the way out of the darkness you have made with such thoroughness and diligence.  I remind you that frail and tired and lonely people are still reaching out to you when you cry, despite their own hurts. Be grateful for them.
It’s not about you anyway.
How? Keep using the brain you’ve been given. Do your best. Don’t stop now. Oh-and listen to yourself when you tell others ‘It gets better’.  No one but you is asking more than all you can give. One hundred percent – then stop.
On ‘stuff’. It’s not as if it’s going away. If you can’t have this particular bit of the cosmos RIGHT GODDESS DAMNED NOW It’s still all right there’s always more. Only in a world of scarcity can one fear loss and scarcity and abundance are both just attitudes with which to approach living.  It’s like cookies. You can always make more. Or another kind of cookie. You can always find another beautiful whatsit, find another interesting stick, another pretty rock.
There’s no end to beauty, awe, glory, transcendence of all kinds. It is all change.
The idea of loss or negativity, of ‘wrong’ choices is just that. An idea. You cannot know the far reaching effects of your choices so you cannot judge them on their own merit.  You just cannot process that kind of information.
You realize that do this (crying over your ‘losses’ in life) will damage your capacity for joy which is and should be considerable.
If I were a thundering boy in the sky I’d command you to stop on pain of fearful punishments. This suffering is its own punishment and, as always, is completely in your hands.
Your choice, Buttercup.

Saturday, February 18, 2012

Response to a Prompt

Oh, thou Rose red hue of the velvet grape,
the blush of ice or dusting of must upon the skin
  The drop that quivers upon the lip of life's edge
about to pour out. 

Into a glass?
Into a bowl? 

Onto dusty ground and wasted?

I look up not down and I do not know.

Saturday, December 3, 2011

Gone in the Wind

This evening, a friend stood up in front of two hundred people and erased me.  It wasn't a malicious act.  It was probably forgetfulness.  But my contribution completely vanished from history.  Something I did and was very proud of.  Poof.  I apparently did not do it.  But that is not how I remember it.

I'm suffering.  This hurts.

How do I deal with this?  How do I quit hurting?  We are going to be working more in the future.  I've given my word.  So I am afraid of and expecting this to happen again.  But I cannot gracefully back out without completely destroying previous work done.  So I have to suck this up.  I have to let this go.

I have to throw up my hands and say 'armour myself against what I am taught will happen again' and carry on.

To maintain my own integrity I have to let this go.  I just don't know how quite yet.

Friday, May 13, 2011

My Response to the May 21st Prediction

Don’t accidentally leave your pet trapped in the house!
Matthew 24:29-31, 1 Thessalonians 4:15-17, 2 Thessalonians 2:1-3, Revelation 1:7
ARP Insurance promises, that in the event of the Rapture, described in the Christian Bible, the company will ensure that the beloved pets of the insured will be rescued and given safe haven and a good home until such time that the Kingdom of Heaven is established and the owners can be re-united with their non-human companions. Let Fluffy and Boots be saved, just as you are!
For this service, the company will charge $100 to cover the initial named pet for a indemnity period of ten years after signing. The client may insure further animals in the household for a further $20 dollars per animal.

OUR COMPANY: We are caring and compassionate individuals who are not Christian, the Virtuous Pagans and will therefore not be subject to the aforementioned Rapture and the clients will be able, in peace and good conscience leave the care of their pets to our people without fear that we will be caught up as well. We currently, in good conscience, may offer our services in Southern Ontario, New York and Philadelphia.
Initial Insured Pet Name: Any additional Pets:

Ages, health and life requirements of aforementioned pets:

Total Payment:

I, ________________________ do give ARP Insurance agents permission to enter my home if, and only if, the Christian Rapture occurs, and then only for the rescue of the named, stranded pets.
ARP limits itself to the above action only in the pursuit of contract fulfillment and only in the occurrence of said Rapture.
Signature: __________________ Date:_________________
Witness:_____________________ Date:__________________

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

These Rooms

These rooms
are all like broken teeth
in a face I once knew.

June '89


Some people:
the answering machine of flesh and bone
flesh, blood and feelings
payed to use a voice
and hands
but nothing else;
repeating words meaningful
as a parrot's chatter


Saturday, March 19, 2011

A few new poems

The bulk of human existance...
is moving dirt
and rocks.

Moving furniture?
A form of earth transformed
and thus

Anything metal? Smelted.
and thus

Water? full of mineral salts

Human existance - moving dirt
and rocks.


The art of reading grocery labels

Does this actually contain food?
edible food
product? what?

xantham gum, phenol poly propel malto
dextrin, calcium hydroxide,

what the hell?

this cannot be safely edible.
Excuse me
while I go to the veggie aisle...

for 'swollen iris'
another word for
not fun

Flirting... happens

Flirting happens when
everyone is secure
and safe
in their skins

It's not flirting
if people scream
or blame
or run shrieking
howling into the night

For heaven's sake, people
Take a breath
Instead of taking it serious!



Village. Place where
the new dam went
and flooded Lake of Bays deeper

Where the dance hall was
and the church groups argue
and lie buried
cheek by jowl
in adjoining graveyards.

Way-stop, dinner stop
when loggers drew
by horse
to Dwight.


All written, March 17, 2011