does it make a difference?

sadam hussein is dead.
did the state of iraq
suddenly ascend into
eternal peace and tranquility
at the moment of his death?
does it make a difference?
does it make some of you
happy?
happy ...
that once again. humans remind us
what predators they really are.

what a load of bull
if ever i saw one!

life is wierd and surreal

... just like this

a 'photo choppy' done by me (earlier this year)

in case anyone wonders -
i am starting to feel
more settled now
and less and less on the verge of darkness.
i now contemplate ...
can peace reside in
maintaining any distant connection
at all ...?
or does it only reside
in cutting all ties?

*sigh*
yet another loss
of sorts

beautiful words i DID NOT write

A kiss cannot travel inter-galactic,
It spans only the touch-duration.
Eternal-youth is merely a myth.
We all are dying - green and young.
You need music to celebrate your passions,
You need not sing yourself.
Only time is immortal,
Every other thing must go back to the elements.
Nocturnal proximity kindles desire, and,
Breeds expectations more than we can handle.
Remember, pleasure can only cajole you into dullness of sleep.
The pains keep you awake,
Sensitive to acuteness of perceptions.

Place your right index finger gently o'er your left carotid,
(because left is closer to cardium),
perhaps on your left brachial,
or the left radial - if you wish so,
and then let the tactile modality listen to the rhythm.

Is there an alien gallop,
a certain hyperkineticity,
a few dropped beats or,
for that matter, a few ectopics?
Is there anything that is at variance
with the sino-atrially directed synchrony?

If you find one don't call for an electrocardiogram,
don't reach out for the echo either.
Try to decode the encrypted malady -
perhaps it is the reawakening
of a hibernating passion for words -
words sans wisdom, sans values, perhaps.

But those worthlessly magnificent symbols
can change you -
from the deepest core of sadness
you rise
to relish the unbearable lightness of being.
You discover light
in the darkest blackhole
and life changeth.

**these words written by anupam bhattacharjee,
and brought to you by me**

image originally uploaded by forty-onecrush

RIP, James Brown

James Brown died today, at age 73.
he died just a day after
being hospitalized for pneumonia.
who would have thought?
somehow ...
i just don't imagine
James Brown being frail enough
to die ...
somehow ...
his voice, his attitude
made him seem larger than life.

another great soul plucked from our grasp.

**sigh**


photo originally uploaded by rist

random thoughts from nowhere

originally uploaded by violin soldier

i think the picture says it all. while our politicians and the most intolerant of our human groups decide to kill anything or anyone that represents a contrasting view, hopefully some of us out here, in the world at large, can realize that love, not hatred, holds the key.

originally uploaded by pink sherbet

now, that looks like a puurrrrfect dress to wear, for climbing, don't it?

originally uploaded by pink sherbet

this picture summarizes, quite nicely, the year i've had. pink monsters, radical changes, and many colourful challenges pouring down on me, deluging me at times.


in other thoughts ...

i hate santa - i really think he and satan are close associates and i can hardly wait for this christmas bullshit to end so i can go on with my life, which basically this bullshit holiday has left in suspended animation.

its dark in here ... no light comes in here and no life lives here. its a place where a living soul waits for death. i hate it here for that reason. since when does a terminal illness give one the right to just withdraw from life ... stop living? and since when does it entitle one to be pampered and served - to a most ridiculous degree - by others, at the expense of said others? i could care less of you're life expectancy, i still expect you to treat me and those around me with respect and grace.

i'm sick. my spirit just feels so worn and lonely that its making my body feel sick. its been several days since i could actually digest any food i ingest. its dark and lonely here. i must get out. i miss my husband. and this just makes me sick inside, too.

i'm thinking of someone ... a doctor, who lives in calcutta. who translates bengali poetry in his spare time. who can think with his cerebral cortex, and not his genitalia. who understands the soul suffering involved in being a healthcare professional.

i feel diminished. and tired to my very core. my brother's a self-centred egocentric prick who's also a taker ... and i continue to serve him. i don't know why. i have to get out. of here.

random thoughts from nowhere

originally uploaded by violin soldier

i think the picture says it all. while our politicians and the most intolerant of our human groups decide to kill anything or anyone that represents a contrasting view, hopefully some of us out here, in the world at large, can realize that love, not hatred, holds the key.

originally uploaded by pink sherbet

now, that looks like a puurrrrfect dress to wear, for climbing, don't it?

originally uploaded by pink sherbet

this picture summarizes, quite nicely, the year i've had. pink monsters, radical changes, and many colourful challenges pouring down on me, deluging me at times.


in other thoughts ...

i hate santa - i really think he and satan are close associates and i can hardly wait for this christmas bullshit to end so i can go on with my life, which basically this bullshit holiday has left in suspended animation.

its dark in here ... no light comes in here and no life lives here. its a place where a living soul waits for death. i hate it here for that reason. since when does a terminal illness give one the right to just withdraw from life ... stop living? and since when does it entitle one to be pampered and served - to a most ridiculous degree - by others, at the expense of said others? i could care less of you're life expectancy, i still expect you to treat me and those around me with respect and grace.

i'm sick. my spirit just feels so worn and lonely that its making my body feel sick. its been several days since i could actually digest any food i ingest. its dark and lonely here. i must get out. i miss my husband. and this just makes me sick inside, too.

i'm thinking of someone ... a doctor, who lives in calcutta. who translates bengali poetry in his spare time. who can think with his cerebral cortex, and not his genitalia. who understands the soul suffering involved in being a healthcare professional.

i feel diminished. and tired to my very core. my brother's a self-centred egocentric prick who's also a taker ... and i continue to serve him. i don't know why. i have to get out. of here.

santa and satan

did it occur to anyone else?

SANTA = SATAN with the "N" misplaced

how quaint, how disturbing, how amusing.

just a little christmas thought from me to you.

spellbound

and heartbroken. i sat in victory park, on one of those cold metal benches. umbrella in hand. i sat there. while torrents of rain poured from the sky. raindrops, so big, their impact on my skin made a sound. it felt cold, i felt minute ice pellets in the rain. and everyone that passed me by - scurrying between the raindrops - they all looked at me like i had a horn growing out of my head, what? you've never seen a lonely girl, sitting in a torrential downpour, smoking a reefer in the early afternoon? i'm spellbound by this impending emptiness that lurks around the corner of next week. i'm spellbound .... by the threatening loneliness that looms across the skies of my soul. spellbound by .... the chaos of broken glass that i feel, digging in ... embedding themselves into my consciousness.

my nose hurts. it hurts inside. i'm suddenly regretting having burned out the innards of my nasal passages on a several-month-long cocaine binge last year. perhaps right about now all that tissue that leeched from my nose in bloody droplets and shreds .... perhaps it would somehow come in handy right about now, when my nose burns, burns, burns like it lives in a ring of fire? perhaps. sad thing is ... if several rales suddenly materialized in front of me ... i would not hesitate to snort them. after all that ... i still would.

spellbound ... by life ... the universe ... humanity ... my self.

that's all.

i heard you

[i have watched many souls leave their bodies. and i have watched many more souls suffer in anguish ... as the bodily shell crumbles away, yet leaving the silver cord that anchors a soul to its shell untouched. its most humbling and awe-filled, to experience so intimately, the suffering of a dying body and soul ... helpless to stop it. and more humbling, yet, to witness the grief spewing from the living ... the left behind. i suppose that's where this piece comes from. death has beauty ... in its own way.]

my darling. heard you, weeping so mournfully. heard that deep gutteral sound come from somewhere deep inside your viscera. i - unable to comfort you. under the weight of heavy sedation and the weakness of my sickly ravaged body, i heard you. heard you as i rested in my lonely, but soothing, suspended animation. white, darling, i found myself in a sea of vast whiteness. nothing living. nothing dead. suspended, in space and time.

that’s how it felt, darling. and then, i heard your deep, mournful cries. they rang out in my heart. the same sorrow-filled cries one hears from a gull seeking out its lost mate. and, then, darling, i felt it. we - lost from each other. in your cries i heard the arrogance, haughtiness, and anger fall away. i heard such longing, such despair, such love. how, darling, did i never feel these things before? oh, darling. what touched me most of all is the feeling of your tears trickling along my hand, which you held next to your gentle face. tears, yours, shed for me.

darling, i came back. came back because it seemed too soon to leave you. to leave life. to leave earth. i want to savour each moment, smell each flower, feel each tiny detail of existence. i want fire, passion, breath, soul, depth. i want to feel power melt into the webs of my fingers. that time spent in suspended animation, darling, it injected savage desires into my heart, into my flaming red petals. and, so darling, i will go play in my garden, now. in my garden of savage petals. there, you can find me.

to know you

[its possible to love another spirit ... another heart ... another mind ... without carnal ever entering the fold. it takes a certain sort of soul to have the capacity to love like this. enchanting ... to say the least. and so ... here is an old piece of mine that i have dusted off, and edited just a teensy bit ... its a little something about meeting such a spirit.]

i want to know you. to understand you. and the words that tumble from your lips in a sweet, silent melody heard only by my heart and soul. i will drink them in, slowly, and they will fall into my soul like drops fall from honeycombs. and i will treasure the moments as they trickle past me. and i will treasure you.

my axons and dendrites will glow in your essence. will you bathe in the streaming light of my gentle adoration? will you let me touch that swirling, spinning locus at your very core, and stroke it so very tenderly? on their wings, your words carry lucious tendrils of you and i feel a flutter in my chest as they embrace my own.

cold fury - i wear it like a corset. it constricts my very essense - stuffs it all behind a stiff, unforgiving shield. its my face to the world-at-large: my suit of armour. in my cyborgish and mundane existence within the hive-mind that is the world-at-large, i lead. i shoulder live-and-die responsibilities. commit life-altering actions. witness soul crushing pain.

i've felt crushed. suffocating ... beneath the weight of my own cold fury. suffocating - the same way a hard, thick scab suffocates tender, growing tissue lying underneath. will you look at me, eye-to-eye ... heart-to-heart ... so that i may see the blossoming dawn in your gaze? so that this mask i wear will fall away from me, shattered? will your heart lavish the affection and the adoration i crave from safe and guiding presence? i want to trust that your hands and heart move with a gentle grace and deftness that leave my tender, pulsing and raw essense without track marks or debridement.

i am unsure. afraid of the dark. of monsters under the bed. and of spirits that haunt me while i sleep. i seek guidance. reassurance. validation, even. and a strong, safe and gentle hand to stroke my soft and shiny, dark curls. with your gentle guidance and sublime adoration will you release the spring long shut-up inside me? will you drink the sweet elixir from my fount, as you release my heart from its bondage?

i want to know you. to understand you. and the words that tumble from your heart in a sweet, silent lyric heard only by my own. i will drink them in, slowly, and they will fall into my soul like drops fall from honeycombs. we will revel in our connection, as our spirits embrace and grow in light and love. and my fear? it will crumble, falling away from me the way sand slips through fingers. and then ... once your essence has emblazened itself upon my own ... and then, will i know you?

i seek different energy

a gentle and enchanting soul left the following comment:

"A soul withers in the intensity of despise! The fornicator tramples love, rapes faith as ever. But Faustus , do not sell your spirit to Mephistopheles. Do not let hate take over your reins. Go and pluck yourself a blossoming dawn from the deepest stalk of darkness."

in response to the following poem, of mine:

your grace crumbled
into grotesque flakes
as your fingertips slashed
my tender silken face
with rage and vengence,
that drench my frail child-spirit

steeped in self-loathing,
you infected me -
impaled
my gauzy soul
on your poisoned barbs
of hatred and lusty greed

once, i loved you -
worshipped you, adored you
and darkness
eviscerated my heart
as i watched this adoration stream past
your inert, stoney heart

my trembling eyes splinter
into a thousand tears
when i look upon your face -
my reflection - in the looking glass
you, who deserted my child-trust -
remain, achingly, ever present

this dark riverbed of adoration
that flowed in my viscera for you
has dried up; my heart --
which once glistened sublimely inside yours,
now lies in eternal anguish:
dessicated, petrified, searingly denuded

your grace crumbles
into grotesque flakes
of grief, rage and greed,
soaked in the brine of remorse
you beg, like i did, for a morsel of mercy
but -- i will STARVE you of forgiveness

on hiatus

until further notice.

starman (originall written 4.11-06 & not posted)

do you ever wonder why we bother looking for extraterrestrial life? i mean - why bother sending out signals to tell them we're here? what do we think we'd do if we ever found an extraterrestrial, on earth? i'm inclined to think we might very well kill it. kill the very thing that intrigues us so. because ... well .. that's we do. destroy that which we do not understand. i wonder ... why do we invite that which we cannot host? like ... perhaps as a planterary society humanity simply has not evolved to the point at which we could accept and co-exist with ALFs.

this does have a religious connection to ... because ... do we think we would recognize the messiah if he came in our life time? what if he did walk the earth - in the form of some one life anwar sadat or yitzak rabin or ghandi or martin luther king or JFK or RFK - and we killed him. because we did not understand him ... his message. what if? do we get another chance? this movie ... star man ... it made me think these things.

i starts out with that message we sent out with voyager ... a message representing all humanity and inviting the intergalactic listener to visit earth. and so ... the aliens visit. the space ship crashes. an energy source disembarks and assumes the form of a dead man ... having found some DNA on a hair clipping that the man's grieving widow had near her. the couple have quite an adventure, dodging police and federal agents and the military (who want to capture and kill the alien), as they try to get the alien to arizona so he can meet his mother ship and return home.

as i watched more and more of the film the biblical theme ... symbolism ... struck me like a brick in the head. powerful. messianic, i found the story quite messianic. a special man, with healing powers and infathomable knowledge of the universe descends from the sky. the rulers of the society in which he lands find out about him and they fear him ... they have a morbid curiousity if him. he means them no harm ... not in a real sense ... however, they wish to kill him. just because they can. what really made me think of the bible ... of mythology? well, the fact that he impregnated her. she told him that docs had told her she could not have babies. similar to the story of mary, mother of jesus, the alien tells the woman that he impregnated her - that she will have a boy baby. that he will have his father's knowledge. that he will serve as a great teacher. the impregnation of a previously barren woman makes me think more of sarah, though.

the movie - its a good one. i will not spoil it for you by telling you of the ending. you must find out for yourself!

a thought to carry me thru life

"Go and pluck yourself a blossoming dawn from the deepest stalk of darkness."

someone wrote these words to me ... an intriguing and genius someone ... splendid and breath-taking, isn't it?

forgiveness = surrender

forgiveness .... its a sort of surrender. mayden wrote a post that inspired me .... strangely, i wrote this comment mere minutes before my own evil and ugly exchange with my brother. and so .... fitting i think, that i share it here, with all of you.

remember that jesus asked g-d to forgive those who put him to death. now that is an example of love that many of us will never completely succeed in emulating. but ... still, we must make the effort, mustn't we? christmas and easter seem pretty meaningless if we don't truly get the point of love ... and also get that love isn't something we do only when it works - feels good - for us. love is also something we do when it doesn't feel good. and that is hardest of all. remember, also, that forgiveness is like surrender. our society's media and messages indicate to us that forgiving is losing ... admitting defeat.

so ... someone wronged us. ok. and it hurts like a bitch. ok. do we dwell on that hurt and anger we feel? or do we pick ourselves up from the hatred and hurt cesspool and make a concerted effort to move on, positively and with grace? i have done a lot of soul searching and have decided with my life and family i will choose option 2. i regret that my choice is too late for my late sister, who died before i could make things right for her. remember, then, also, that the things we say to any one person could be the very last thing we say to them. perhaps if we approached every human interaction like that ...? a

s for the others of my siblings - who have inflicted what i thought at the time as unforgiveable hurts - i can love them from afar. live and let live. if i encounter them at a family function, well the room and the world is big enough for all of us. and really, family function are not all about me and how i feel (uncomfortable, to be honest) but about making our mum happy ... we will get hurt in life. that's inevitable, mayden. how we deal with that hurt is what will make all the difference. and make no bones about it - the surrender of forgiveness may not feel great. but life isn't always about feeling great. its just about feeling. and what we do with that feeling. sorry to be soooo long-winded and preachy.

i'm just sharing with you the wisdom i gained from having been in that place you are, feeling the feelings you're feeling. and just remember jesus entered the world humbly and without an fanfare. and so christmas should be ... no fanfare, no big fancy BS. that's what i wish for us all this christmas. regards dear mayden. thinking of you. love your husband. treasure him. i miss mine dearly. so dearly. realize how lucky you are to have your family there ... together. love the pink reefer ps. any situation we encounter in life can be made so much easier or more difficult simply by our reaction. i have learned this time and time again, the hard way.

read my lips, you morons!

split up iraq

it worked for the former yugoslavia ... didn't it?

and if you held a seance
to contact sir winston churchill
who, incidently formed iraq in the first place,
he would likely tell you the same thing
so ... because i know you're slow on the uptake
i will repeat

SPLIT UP IRAQ!

dear g-d

please give me the strength and the patience to tolerate other humans ... i know, i know, they're your creations. but, dear g-d ... why so slow on the uptake? why can't they speak honestly? without all the flashy, fluffy rhetoric? why can't they follow direction? why can't they listen AND hear? why do they exclude? g-d ... why don't i fit in anywhere? i feel likeable, most of the time. so, why do i have no friends? how do i know who i can trust? who i can believe?

in a world full of bull shit it's so fucking hard, g-d, to smell the roses. really. i try. maybe not hard enuf. i see so much complacency, greed, ignorance, thoughtlessness. and just plain mean-ness. y'know? lack of compassion. g-d .... it makes me incredibly sad. when i think of it all ... i wonder ... how do you deal with the constant disappointments we present to you? your creation ... it lets you down ... falls short of the mark.

g-d ... grant me serenity ... patience and wisdom. remind me that its not a popularity contest. remind me that its not any sort of contest. remind me ... fill my heart with something good. something i can hold onto. something. that doesn't make me feel empty as soon as it touches me.

stoopid headlines

1. bush agenda came 1st for Bolton at U.N - like ... DUH ... anyone with a brainwave could figure that one out!
2. US not winning Iraq war ... double DUH ... oh yeah, thanx bob gates, we hadn't yet figured that one out ... and we definitely needed that clarification!
3. underweight women more likely to miscarry ... you don't say? FUCK do you think we are that stoopid? like, once again this should be obvious!
4. transfats banned in NY ... oh. ok and so, given the huge success rate of prohibition in our society, we all know this will definitely eliminate obesity ... NOT.
5. flying table hurts jackie chan ... like, that's news? anyone standing around an airborne table deserves to get hit ... that's called natural selection. it ensures the IDIOTS don't survive ... and hopefully they haven't reproduced before their idiocy kills them off!

ok. that's it. that's enuf STOOPIDITY for one day.

6 wierd things about myself

1. i currently sleep a mere 10 or 12 feet away from the exposed blessed sacrament. i'm convinced its the reason i sleep like a baby in this bed i have here. before getting here i felt afraid to fall asleep. not here, though. i know its the blessed sacrament. i know it.
2. i feel intimidated by other people alot of the time - their energies overwhelm me. the same way having my head dunked in water overwhelms me. i can feel what people are thinking ... what they feel ... their emotions.
3. unlike the rest of the human race i have no requirement for sexual intimacy. i just don't. i'm convinced that sex is designed to take things from women. not make them feel connected.
4. weed is a necessity for me. i'm not being flip or silly. i'm dead serious. weed, to me, is just as necessary as food. anyone who thinks this is a bad thing is fucking ignorant. i wish people would stop patronizing addicts and just get it, already.
5. i'm confused about religion and the JC thing. the exposure of the blessed sacrament ... the peace it gives me when i sleep ... the peace it fills me with ... it makes me wonder. about g-d. about JC. about the trinity. if you asked me ... i'd honestly say i'm not sure if i believe. but ... somehow ... strangely ... i know. i feel like i just know.
   
6. trees and nature speak to me. in fact, they possess a lot more wisdom than humans. the wisdom of being for ages. the knowing that comes with waiting. that's what i get from nature.

world AIDS day - december 1st

i'm sick and tired of hearing this fucking bullshit about how abstinence can solve the bloody AIDS problem. that's right up there with 'the war on drugs' is the way to combat addiction. AND ITS FUCKING BULLSHIT! too bad that most of the people spewing such nonsense don't know what they're talking about. really. can we get passed ideologizing sex for a moment? can we? can we get passed all the judgementally loaded rhetoric? and see the issue?

the issue is this - a disease that's killing an entire generation of humanity. all around the world. and you think ... oh well, they're marginalized ... no one will notice. and you think ... well, tough shit, they brought it on themselves. and you think ... fucking faggots, serves them right for fornicating. oh ok. that's narrow, ain't it? do yourself a favour. learn about AIDS. do you know anyone afflicted by HIV/AIDS? do you know anyone who's died of AIDS? i keep sensing this insidious implication that it doesn't matter. they're all a bunch of faggots anyhow, right? who cares? besides ... abstinence will solve it all. what about the here and now?

here's a little tidbit for you.

he's got the mind and age of 56 years old. and the body of a 75 year old. ravaged by a disease that has depleted most of his immunity to fight off anything. many of the antretroviral meds have damaged his liver ... sending his bad cholesterol levels sky high. they have also damaged his gut, rendering it unable of processing any solid food without nausea, vomitting and profuse diarrhea.

he lives on kool-aid and protein power sprinkled into a shake made from soy milk and bananas. he's tired ... so tired. and sleeps 12, sometimes 14 hours per 24 hour period. and not in a row. his gums have receded. he's lost his teeth. he's not eligible for another set for a couples more years. will he live that long? good question. he's frail. it scared me - to see someone waste away. he's weak. i worry constantly about falls. he's toast if he falls. he's toast if he gets sick. i'm aware that i am a potential danger to him and must act accordingly. in so many small ways that many of you could not even imagine.

and that is the tip of the iceberg. i have not told you about the incredible pain. the pain that 130 mg of long-acting morphine taken twice daily barely keeps at bay. and the loneliness. who wants a partner dying of AIDS? and the fear of persecution. he's convinced that people will treat him with scorn if he discloses his true diagnosis. he's convinced he's unacceptable to the world at large. save for the GBLT community. even his own mother fears him because of his diagnosis.

now ... think. think. think. can you see how the issue of AIDS goes far beyond a debate about abstinence vs condoms? of course, i'm assuming you've dropped that ridiculous notion that homosexuality as a causal factor of AIDS. not everyone needs to ideologize sex. not everyone sees the bible a written-in-stone instructional booklet. not everyone sees life thru such a filter. please ... please ... please ... take this day - WORLD AIDS DAY - as an opportunity to drop the ideologizing about sex and sexuality. just LEARN about AIDS. and what's it like to live with.

image originally uploaded by casa de woof

1 comments:

Bob Souvorin said...

Hi,
Wow, you write with a great deal of feeling, fervor, and more than a dollop of anger and resentment. Please, that is not meant as a criticism, but as something to be proud of. Our blog world is filled with so much tepid silliness, that it is refreshing to read a passionate call for change.
I write a blog on accessing creativity:
ArtQuest1.blogspot.com
and the reason I bring this up is I maintain lines of communication with a fair number of visual artists and writers. Based upon your latest post, I have one woman I will recommend to you:
Her name is Nancy Bevilaqua
http://holdingbreath-nbevilaqua.blogspot.com/
Thanks for posting.
Bob

30/11/06 20:37