Wednesday, December 12, 2012

the animial/ beast/ woman/ child/ native/ weed inside of us

you do not have to be good

YOU DO NOT HAVE TO BE GOOD

You do not have to walk a hundred miles
on your knees
across the desert
repenting

You only have to let the soft
warm
animal
in you
love what is loves.

YOU ONLY HAVE TO LET THE
SOFT WARM
ANIMAL
IN YOU
LOVE WHAT IT LOVES

From the first part of Mary Oliver's wild geese poem.
See it all down, down down around the bottom part of the front
page of my mother site,
of the name BecomeMoreAmazing.com

and there's more
to the poem
and to
the liberations

because
we have a wild filthy animal
and that's got to be free
to love and go wild and get dirty

and we have a lazy and silly animal
and that's got to be allowed to nap forever some days,
and go around laughing it its own and others' shadows,
or eyebrows, or tonuges
or words

and pretentions

the soft
the wild
the silly
animal just is what it is

shitting in the forest
peeing in the flower beds
farting here
belching there

fucking in the meadow on the beach on the trailhead
in the thicket, the thinet, the middet
fucking and hugging
and falling down
naked, and rubbing flesh to flesh all
night
just
for the mammalian YES of it

we have a brain
ah,
yes,
that too, the animal that can think
we can think for the pure joy
of it
and best smartest kindest
to think to improve the lot
of any messes we or our fellow forgetters
get into

the soft warm wild funky filthy smart dumb crazy brilliant
animal
in us

the wild child
the restless native without property boundaries,
who owns the earth and the rivers because no one
owns them
the child that can pee wherever it wants to pee
the animal who love making is
dictated by the lunging yes
that is
always
always
always there

and when we wake up to
it

life
is full

and then
the clock strikes twelves or two or six and we think
the slave has to be who we are

it doesn't

the animal can tone it in
a bit
play the civilized game

and it's only a game

and there's a deeper game
without a name
without words

a rolling in the mud, hugging the wrong person,
loving everyone game

gasp,
is today the right day to play it?

is shall we wait,
till the ducks and dead and stuffed and frozen
and all in a line?

a rhetorical question if I ever saw one.


ha!

Monday, December 10, 2012

deep reality: sex, children, the feminine, nature, soil, water, mess, indigenous people


the wild world is
there
inside us,
every night
waiting to wake up
and sometimes it does

in our dreams
in our sex

the best sex in my life
i realized this weekend was
outdoors
under the stars,
or on a hill overlooking an orchard
or on a cliff, overlooking the ocean

sex is nature
nature is sex

and there's as sweet practice,
usually  done indoors
and it reconnects us to the wild,
to the real,
to nature

to orgasm

orgasm was the word I didn't have on the list
of the title

we
forget
how essential this miracle of everything getting
full
full
full
as all else drops away

we forget that it is nature's reminder of samadi
of death before death
of freedom

and here's the practice:
15 minutes
on the floor or bed, but a special nest
of pillows for head and kneess

she:
takes off her pants, and that's all
he:
takes off nothing,
and sits to her right,
his left leg straddling her,
right leg under her right

she:
her legs butterflied

they:
use a timer

he:
strokes the upper left had quandrant of
her clitoris,
or whatever part has the most zing
and she
does nothing but receive

it's not the ocean

it's not the starry night

it's not a 400 year old redwood,
but it's a secret door to that world
a 15 minute door

not to be missed

try it


(and what about the indigenous people:
down to 4% of original numbers
the same as old growth trees,
down to 4% of original land area:

there is a wild world,
almost exstinguished
and it needs to be saved
and we need to save the
wild world in ourselves

the practice above
OMing,
starts to roll back the rolling back

try it and
see/

actually:
try it and realize
and feel
and sense life make sense
below all the words,

which is exactly where redwoods and oceans and flower live

and real love, too
which is the same topic
and more)
good

Saturday, December 01, 2012

Life is Yes, even when you die

her former husband
the tug of love underneath yanking
and not connecting

died for her
died with her
teased and refused to be helped
so he would die
in her arms
in her heart

he loved her so much
and forgot
and they both didn't know how
to re tie the tie that didn't bind
and he died of a broken heart

not really
he died of a heart free,
free to give her the freedom to love
every moment because it is
not yet death
and when that comes
it's one more moment to love

and maybe she'll teach that
or maybe she'll just teach that you
are always married to the one you
love
and why waste a minute moment second
forgetting it,
even if you aren't together

the love is there
the child is there
the poems are there

Gilgamesh
that used to be recited by Gurdjieff's father,
from memory, passed down for generations,
before the scrolls were discovered

that poems says:
it can be rough

and the rough is life
and it stirs
no matter how fucking hard
that's life

and the child lives
and the love lives
and this moment lives
and this poem isn't good enough
for how beautiful she was

and that's good enough, too

it's all love,
all love

all love