unwound

breaking open into a night which ticks silently by trying to figure why there is (there is what, is not the point) but just that there is and you can fill in the blank (but the typed keys wrote black but i erased that for in the blackness there is a blank that envelops us until we become so numb that we beg for there to be feeling). where was i  besides riding this wave of gone tide hoping to lampoon a whale to travel me to a land that holds an island where a native can teach me how to love in an unselfish way without the baggage of g(G)od or myths or power that pulls us in so many directions until we unravel into a heap that has so many frayed ends that there is no end to the number of ways one could become unraveled / could we not just start all over from zero. water freezes but this blood keeps the core beating to earth’s rhythm while contemplating today’s deaths/ why are there so many deaths in winter, is it not already a cold bleak time that buries us into a hole and we struggle under the dark sky trying to take hold, rooting but losing our grip on reality as daylight continues to waver on the side of the road. forty is looming and there is still no answer to the question posed a decade ago. what shall catapult me forward /what shall bring me backward besides rewinding this dead watch and watch it not move forward again. a white tattoo winks behind the cursor. curse her once more in this mirror but how can you be angry at one who was strong enough to survive. they did not survive and perhaps that is the lesson for today beyond the lesson learned in lecture that started these thoughts as the ravens flew down hanging midnight’s curtain starting at 5:15 on this midwestern landscape begging for Poe and rivers to open wide, swallow this boat that got lost since the moon felt it needed a night off after all. where is faith when you do not walk with confidence – he states that only the faith-filled walk with confidence but if that means his brand of belief than these shoes prefer a hunched path for at least when i get lectured about intellectual arrogance i understand that it no different from the one he flames from the pulpit when they place a former Jew on display who has renounced God for God and all the Christians clap/ no one sees the irony. someday we will all meet truth / until then continue to watch this watch for when it starts to work again we will know that we are finally at our destination ~

 

(this post is in memory of deaths revealed today : 1. AM text from coworker who read the obit of a patron who was dear to me (he had actually visited me a month ago to say good-bye, to tell me he was dying) 2. read that the young founder of Reddit was found dead (by hanging)  3. Neil Gaiman writes a moving post about the sudden death of his rescue dog, Cabal, who came to him during a lonely time of life which I so understand for my rescue dog was given to me after a prayer for help – it was perhaps the last time faith was in this room)

 

 

catching hell ~

“Everything I did in my life that was worthwhile I caught hell for.” ~ Earl Warren.

A 32-wind compass card, with English names

Image via Wikipedia

Truth, I had to Google Earl Warren. I know, it is a Wiki link and I’m a pseudo-librarian, but, sometimes the information is okay. We shall bank that 80 percent of it is accurate and roll.

The irony of the Warren quote, which is on the tea tab I’m currently sipping (grand life I live on Vday evening); is Warren’s decisions while on the Supreme Court were monumental, regarding due process and defendants’ rights.**

Albeit, this illustration I speak is a far abstraction of meant legislation, but a clear parallel to a person’s rights to be upheld, holds.

A picture bleeds in my head: “You want the truth? You couldn’t handle the truth!” Nicholson, so righteous in uniform; looking viper ready to strike.

Truth, she is a mystery for some; a compass for others. Truth truly remains my true north; a guide whenever the fog hangs over. It isn’t that I’m holy (a sailor may blush round me if I’ve a round or two and feeling sprightly.) I’ve just played truth and consequences in youth, and learned a very difficult lesson. Today, I error on the side of honesty, always.

That is why it was very hard to be taken out clean; words wrung, truncated; a burial without my due process. Don’t believe that evil empires only are built in buildings where Brooks Brothers smile at each other.

My innocent omission has boiled me clean. It seems that exposed bones are not enough, either; we must now drain the marrow with sharpened teeth.

Can one still be a libraryscene, if the scene changes?

The environment is changing fast. The cannon ball shot; a bull’s eye set; and the walking target, she’s just the underling whom peasants adore, but generals abhor. One can run for cover, but as Joan said to her captors, I shall not omit what I don’t believe.

Amused; did I not just quote dear Shakespeare regarding this stage of ours?

The set has  been cleared of its props; cartoons removed; funny bits banished; and even dried floral, round binned. There is a silence around this cube; it is cream coloured vibe  wishing waves of calm.

What do we do when the world tilts us off our axis; shakes us? Do we finally speak the truth that no one wishes to hear, especially our own ears?

The chess set has been re-checked over the years, so that pawns remain little balls, that is all. The horse runs around headless, running amuck and into the rook. The castle sits upon the horizon whilst the Queen looks down her crown.

Games people play in love; in life. We all smile; tilting our hat at the passing fancy, and cin-cin our glass with relief; glad the drama isn’t about us. Lost; where’s integrity hanging these days; hidden beneath layers of wild figures and ugly sighs.

What do we get? What we give. I regret to say I’m guilty of one thing: not taking a risk, in me; to breathe, again.

Perhaps Warren should paint my fifteenth day’s dream; I see reds and golds within a coppery light! Hellish flames blazing a  trail that will be worthy, sans regret.

What say you: Did you ever test the flames to reach the stars?

 

**He also paved the way for the end of segregated schools; reapportionment; and school prayer.

finding balance ~

Русский: Картина Николая Рериха "Агни Йог...

Image via Wikipedia

 

The truth is balance. However the opposite of truth, which is unbalance, may not be a lie. ~Susan Sontag

 

Susan Sontag’s quote is most interesting. It reminds me of a koan that the sage may give the student upon entering meditation. Not really a riddle, not necessarily a question; a statement to contemplate.

 

Sontag’s quote came to mind when considering the recent Times article, “How Yoga Can Wreck Your Body”. The article lacks balance, only focusing on the harm of yoga. The counterbalance, the beauty of yoga, never graces the page.

 

The author, William J. Broad, is a senior science writer for The Times. His article is slanted, but why? Perhaps the truth can be found in his soon to be published book,  “The Science of Yoga: The Risks and Rewards”.

 

We oft ask writers to be honest with us, to tell us the truth. An unbalanced article causes us to question not only the validity of the subject matter , but  the trustworthiness of the one reporting.

 

A University of Iowa journalism professor, Stephen Bloom, recently felt the backlash of writing a unbalanced article for The Atlantic. The article was a POV piece on Iowa’s cultural landscape. Bloom’s ability to paint a 21st century Norman Rockwell  Iowa was truly art. Sadly, he forgot that fellow Iowans would be reading, ready to take aim with their turpentine.

 

Is inflated journalism, or slanted writing, all a lie? Do we find truth within the lack of balance?

 

Broad’s article should’ve concluded with a contrast, the Rewards. If Broad truly feels that yoga is going to ‘wreck’ the body, then his book title should end with, Risks, period.

 

Conflict of interest is hot right now. I shall never know why Bloom felt the need to invent a “Little House of Iowa”. Broad, however, seems to be benefiting from the “bad press” is “good buzz” concept. Perhaps his article abou his book will propagate more Kindle sales.

Ego seem to be getting in way of our ethics. Whilst not always a lie, the truth seems far from the fulcrum. The Wall Street Journal recently reported that academic economists will be following new ethic rules when it comes to disclosure thanks to the documentary, Inside Job.  Disturbing to view just how far we’ve strayed from checks and balances.

Yoga also has checks and balances. It is up to the greater yoga community to ensure they are upheld.

 

Full disclosure: I practice yoga. Broad’s article had me nodding my head ‘yes’  at times. At other times, Broad  made me wish I had a direct line to his, so I could express my displeasure. Not because I hold yoga as the end all be all, but because I fear that his words will spread a fear that isn’t healthy, nor warranted.

 

Truth: yoga can do harm; I know, I’ve pushed myself to the edge. Truth: Yoga can free the spirit; I know, I’ve soared on my mat. No one knows your limits but you. Be wise; seek your truth; and balance shall find you. Namaste ~

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dive ~

Falling fast, barreling over
human waterfalls; gone green
not remembering coded scenes,
locks gone rusty, skeleton key
turns, turns,
breaks
disintegrates
damned corroded lust;

fire singed tattoo
marks heartbeat stopped,
rushing into icy waters,
burns licked too late;

dried off,
languid flesh gone,
warm pink skin again;
lash up a limb,
fashion ribbon and bone
into Icarian waxen dream;

blast off this jagged
precipice worn thin by
pacing soles to dark
matter’s searching rhythm,
dancing beneath moon shadows
ghosting liquid eyes;

he spied you waiting;

fly ~

free fall of this memory
wall; breathe; dive
into his starry night;

crashing just means
you died
into life,
anew~

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