Wednesday, April 28, 2010

good decent *********, or ******, or ****** folk

rise up in the name of your Idea of God and slaughter...
makes you feel so easy so sanctified so holy
like cops breaking the Law to catch criminals--
"Oh yes we have da Lawd--the king of the disclaimer--

on our side"--and so the last "last goodbye" in your hate--


if you can't name it
you can't define it
if you can't define it
you can't know it
if you don't know it
you can't understand it
if you can't understand it

you're free to hate it--kill it--be done with it--


none of this will ever work--
the earth is a temporary stop
on the soul's journey--
it is not the ground for the final outcome
of all things--it is not the place
where there'll ever be peace forever--

but it is the place where you'll find this all out--
it is the place where no unreality will ever work--

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

my thoughts are calm and happy

the world is going to hell

in yet another shift of another age

but my thoughts are calm and happy

my heart is satisfied and contained

this generation of maniacs wreck life

in their asshole passions

but my heart is satisfied and contained

my body is old but contented

desire flows through the veins

not raging lust but spark lighting a winter night's fire

but my body is old but contented

my soul is free and patient

it chafes under the sadness of our Oneness

and is resigned to this feeling it has always felt

but my soul is free and patient

I am where I always am and always can be

blessings on the ones who bless

blessings on the ones who don't

I am the dark and the light

I am the dark and the light

but I am always where I am and always can be

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
I'm not fooled

I know this body is finally wearing out

it served its time

it had its pleasures and pains

I'm not fooled

I know I'll look down

from the ceiling corners of whatever room

the silver cord is severed

and all the sadness I gouged on while I lived

will leave itself in the remaining meat

the flesh envelope containing my purposes

my reasons for being in this former skin

at this time in eternity

and that illusive time passing with the body

that engendered its clock its ticking in the heart

I'm not fooled

I've said my prayers

I've pet the cat and left it extra food

may who finds my lifeless costume

do right by the cat

(I will tend to who does not!)

I'm not fooled

it is time to go

time not to stay

time to be unable to stay

the force that sustains all pulling me along

to my next ordeal

on the way of my slow return

and to what I have to remember next as

the old sweetness of being

feeling new

at last

for once


I'm not fooled

Content (c) 2008-20010 Philip Milito.
boy I'm on fire today

and why?

it's a done deal a complete venture

nothing more to say

nothing more to do

I faced my vanity that I could change reality

and now I face my shame

Rimbaud knew

even Leonard learned

now I just them in my contrition

my empty yearning

my peace of completion

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
nothing to convince you

the earth is round

and rolling off its axis

the sky floods with pictures

of fornication angels and celibate demons

oh it's nothing like you thought it would be

yes you've been cheated

but only by yourself

you wanted Lilith

you settled for Eve

and now blame creation for your hunger

thou oaf!

your egoism led you to believe you called the shots

now you duck the shots

whizzing past your ear as you sit in a topless bar

back room bargaining for a blow job

nice work mr. erotic mystic

you went for the mistress than the wife

and devalued yourself and them

Cpontent (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.

you fool!!!
oh yes it doesn't sting like it used to--

my hide is thick

my heart still soft in its case of granite

this is the way we all exit

the lives we've lived

and that is why this will be disdained

no one copping to this fact of reality

until it is the time of their reckoning

well it won't kill you as you thought it would

it will just disperse you

into an All you couldn't help but uncomprehend

being all you are in this skin

the sting of losing that skin

dull and as nothing

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
so I tell you

you can't cheat yourself

unless you set your mind

to that end

then you will know

the heartache of blaming everyone

but yourself for your losses

you expected to be served

you thought everyone would jump for you

you thought it would be done for you

and to that end

you will succeed

cheating yourself because you thought

you could dictate your reward

your loss and a loss

for the rest of us

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
oh where will we find

our loves this time?

we won't

they're gone

waiting for us

later down the line

in another life

a familiarity on some future

summer morning in the world

when a glance will unleash

the torrent of the saddest sweetness

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
beyond our own loving

a vast self-hating

that demands more of love

than love can bear

think on that

while you toss on a twisted pillow

the sorrow of life

sweetening the precious clinging

of the child to its fading innocence

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
heroes fail and die

don't be a hero

be righteous

in so far as you're able to be so

and there is the unsung disdained heroism

the reality beyond our searchings

to evade our own reckonings

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
young things

just learning how to do life

we all start out on the wrong foot

and God's grace determines

if we ever get it right

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
I charge ahead under this full moon

don't know where I'll end up or how

but I charge ahead under this full moon

knowing I'll end up somewhere somehow

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
as Christ Almighty said himself

"It's finished"

can you say that?

do you care whether you can?

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
force of habit
making me ill
I can't stand it
it should not abide
but it will because
we are One
and that drags each of us down

don't think so highly of yourself
you are a part of our problems
you are the very devil you hate

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.

Monday, April 26, 2010

the full moon in Scorpio approaches
signaling the transformation of many things on earth--

this one calls in all the chips
gathers all the marbles (or whatever trite phrase

unifies your poor thinking) so the game
we've been playing for decades ends and a new one starts

under aspects I wouldn't wish on a Republican (and everyone
knows how much I hate those evil greedy scumbags) no

all our necks are out for this one
and no one can afford their own high-handedness any longer

our minds have reached the saturation point and no agenda
stands up to scrutiny all is exhausted and every desperate remedy

reveals its own transparency
peace to the type-A imbeciles who think doing anything

will brings desired results
peace to the type-B sloths who wait for things to happen for them

as if they were entitled to a permanent victimhood
they both will go down by the very notions they espouse

the historically slate is wiped clean (trite yes) (but sadly accurate)
and all falseness is at last openly evident

oh what will we do what will we do

nothing at all
except hold our noses and dive off the sinking landmass

of the world we've created for ourselves
and keep swimming in the illimitable sea

toward the next life we will nurture or ruin with the sad ignorance
that will ever be the earthly condition for souls

I and mine have started our award-winning breaststrokes
we're on our way

hope to see you on the other shore
whatever and wherever it is under this full Scorpio moon

with dawn hours away
but coming...

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.

Saturday, April 24, 2010

God and the devil

two ideas sharing the same face

fear God and see God

fear the devil and you are the devil

and those who see the face

pure without perishing

are enlightened beyond any

quantifiable condition

so harrying the ideas of God and devil

are like worrying over God or Goddess

when we name we just identify ourselves

each of us One and warring

each one yearning for what the others have

having it ourselves

and the not knowing that

making us want more

there is no more

there's nothing but more

there's all of it all there is

and our squandering

the leak of consequence

into the value of who and what we are

God or Goddess

God or devil

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.

Wednesday, April 21, 2010


before the brief hope

the delusion of hope

softsoap of someone else's 'courage'

but after the long wash

the certainty of emptiness

one's own raiment cleansed


radio receiver tuned and ready
for transmission
antic ghost stutterings
or archangel rant
tempests in teapots
or quick brown foxes
squeal like a hog
or honk like a goose
talk to me One
through this
your creation
Oh only One
talk to me

awaiting reply


largely a fiction
between friends
loyalty does
bind in a trust

what it blinds is worse


a breach of decorum
the rudeness of megalomania
the utter self-regard
begs no questions

warty bliggens*
endures in our spawn

don't be too proud
you observers of decorum


in my skin and at my place
and workin' to own my very face


all is in place
tend to its movement
all sustains you
if you contribute to all


how're we doing?

twice as long to get half as far


the transparency of age
becomes apparent
to an youthful heart
having really no age

old as that heart may be
thus it will always be


I love our life
she said with her whole being

and again I lost myself
in the immensity


once again
a day roils through me
as if it were my blood
in its circulation


*"warty bliggens"is a subject of one of Don Marquis's 'archy and mehitabel' poems. Long may they be remembered.

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.

Monday, April 19, 2010

the future yawns like a giant who swallowed
too many super-spicy baby shrimp
at a Chinese restaurant on Chatham Square
that no longer exists

the aftertaste of that five-alarm meal
lingers like a ghost in my mind's throat
as I stand in front of the new thing
that replaced that particular restaurant

the square still a bustle of buses
and bastards while the old neighbor morphs
no longer the backdrop for The Beast From
20,000 Fathoms's cop-eating car-crushing

rampage but now a vista of gleaming towers to the north
amid the rumble of all the place used to be
while the same common humanity stumbles into the jaws
of our own natural mortality

a mouthful of memory triggers this inane meditation
and I should be a teacher? I should be a lightening rod
for the Divine? what have I got to teach but the
hermetic sloth protecting me from engagement

of an impossible (from the earth's view) future
a ghost with a plan for transcendence
and a delusion of heaven to comfort my final
earthly minutes...seconds...? This is

pretty heavy for someone who just stopped
on a corner of a city street remembering
a long-ago dinner at the place and then went his way
thinking of other things...

and recording it now years later on this obscure blog

the future still yawning like a giant who swallowed...

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.

Sunday, April 18, 2010

here we are in the thick of it

the world spreads like a blood spill

from a beating

and we looking out at the air like a wound

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
tsk tsk they say

how sad to see him struggle with some genie in his head--

fuck you

God will remember me because I cannot forget him

tsk tsk you smug jerk-offs

wait until you are alone with nothing but yourselves

to make you miserable

as you struggle with the demon of who you thought you were

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
blocking every way I go

because my faith in a god lets that god have at me

blocking every move

gouging a price until there's nothing left and finding

that is the ugly cost the karmic bill

the secret charge on a "free" gift

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
my entire night ruined

by the pestering of twerps

sorry my love isn't pure enough

for your liking Lord

but even my struggle with sin and error

doesn't cut it with you either

my entire night ruined

by realizing I have no support from anyone

even if I wasn't counting on anything to begin with

finding out this is some kind of deal somewhere

to someone does take the joy out of living

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
garden oafs

this year less flowers were crushed

by these oversized sprites

that look to our eyes

like pearls of transparent lard

but that's because spring flooding

took care of business as usual

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
pity those who think
the road to Heaven
is straight

pity those who don't
think straight
on their way

it was it wasn't
it could it couldn't or should
or shouldn't

pity those who think
about any of this
at all

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
just because I love the Lord
doesn't mean there aren't times
I'd like to grab him and stick his head
under the wheels of a truck--

if grace truly superceded karma
forgiveness might be possible--
but for our temporary flesh bags
we bear the brunt and the anger

and the hatred of such cold brief mercy--
it makes trying a tasteless cosmic joke

but for now let me terminate this self-portrait
by saying shantih or some such shit

and then...not saying it

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.

Saturday, April 17, 2010

I do not care what the world will be like

without me here in it

I will be elsewhere (I am already elsewhere)

and so will you and you and you and you too

let the world go to hell

I'm not going with it and I hope you won't either

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
all the voices of my time
are falling silent--

they've had their say--
those who heard and understood

are also falling away
disappearing into the vortex

of decay--what those of this time
make of it doesn't really matter either--

they are deaf and they also will fall away
ignored and forgotten by those they'll beget

who will not be capable of feeling--
pity them--no one will give a damn

about them at all...

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
see you on God's golden shore?

I'll appreciate just being able to see you

tomorrow morning--

let us climb up to the heavens

on the simple stones of our trust--

it's all of us together or none of us make it...

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
we talk to each other and hear nothing--

no art no religion no science matters

they're all part of the world

and will pass with the world

when creation fulfills its term

and those who loved their precious selves

will pass away with what they love--

while others who walked with Spirit

will remember at last their part in God--

like it or not friends awareness is truth

and truth will be more 'all there is' than ever...

well--never ready but game nonetheless

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
another dark night of the soul

but not as despairing as other times--

a soul could get used to anything--

even its own alienation--

and therein lies the danger

in this lonesome valley

of the shadow of death--

and another reason to take comfort in this bewilderment

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
ever rare the momentary enlightenment

when you are nothing but what you are experiencing--

blessed is that fleeting moment

before you are once more fall back into

the dull aspiration--the stressed hope--

the inability to peer through the world's darkness

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
deeper than fear of the future
is regret for the past

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
I wish I had come to my senses

long before this time

but hell I'm always myself

and at what point did I not bungle

the simplest kindness

or most complex atonement

this world causes one to doubt the love

and mercy of God but so what?

what use is coming to your senses

when nothing makes any sense?

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
here we are on the apocalypse watch--

howzit gonna go down???

whatzamatterwit you people?

dis ain't no clowntime

dis ain't no winnin'

(hey David) this ain't no foolin' aroooooooound...

oh hell

all the tyrannies are rising up to crush us

all the way up to the ultimate tyranny

that will crush all others

and enslave us (on pains of perdition)

in the tyranny of God's love and perfection--

here's the apocalypse watch

weep for all the soft sweet loves that could never withstand

the brutalities of creation-God's unforgiving processes--

while you wait o fade with the memory

of love and safety our bogus childhoods endorsed

oh God oh God oh hell oh shit...

this is what it is to live in this world

this limited vision this painful awareness of isolation

the world and its prison skins

but busting free of them? we'll see--we'll see--

here's the apocalypse watch

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.

my period of higher understanding

has slipped away and now I am back

in the earthly soup

infinity may be all around us

but hell is right here and right now

as if God were a witch stirring a cauldron

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.

Thursday, April 15, 2010

one of many
I move down the home stretch
of the race I have run with patience

a muddy track for sure
but others race past me
or lag behind

we all each one of this many
we slide toward some finish line
crossing into a winner's circle

of release and accountability
or so it is to which we aspire
trudging through the mud

and scrambling for our heavens
in the Great Always that accommodates them all

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
we are Eternal

we do live in the Infinite

but as long as we are in flesh on this earth

we will know it

as an earthworm knows

from a tractor


the smaller we are

the larger and vaster

our connection to the awareness of infinity

and the more vulnerable our consciousness

which sees this connection momentarily

out of the immediacy of earthly matters

yes all is here and now

and our apprehension only

now and then


and how to describe the indescribable

reams of bad poetry hymning the heavens

of our pitiful imaginations

while the Ineffable keeps the tally

the One holds the count

and God metempirical holds the context

of all living


to live on earth is to wade through illusions

(and God alone knows how many other worlds

hold the matrix that engenders forms and their delusions)

but always held on course by the knowing

that flashes in the briefest of moments

before being again forgotten

in the strictures of our earthly time


so I hold to my course

my heart beating in spite of me

my business is this time in the earth

so I get down to business

until the culmination of a sojourn

stands complete

and I wake up one day released from these endeavors

body lost but soul regained

like Whitman I wait for you somewhere

like the Nazz I'll catch you down the line

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

let the word ripple out
to who will hear

then let them say
what they will


as if vocal echoes faded
with silence near

like a thug in the dark
for the sake of blocking

the thought what should happen
but a roaring storm

through which no one heard
a thing anyway blowing through just then...


gem of the prairie
yellow fields straining up
radiant under the eye
of the mute

who needn't speak to
to shower this natural jewel
with direct focus
of devotion and attention

an awareness stretching the length
of the earth that his vision
subsumes in its fullness
this moment on earth

as watching the bloom of this crystal

gem of the prairie

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
intolerant of any obstacles
fate places before me

I develop the art
of liquidity

I will wear them down
before they can do me in

I will flow around them
forgiving myself

for the stiff obstinacy
with which I placed

those obstacles
those barriers

those self-punishments
punished by the One

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.


alive in the moment

then living on in fading time

blessings before mirrors and doubles

and on souls whispering to us in dreams

we cannot comprehend

for preservation and and support from

pale ghosts retreating

alive outside the moment


the buildings the street the crowds
all seem to be looking toward the sun

the blaze of ordinary day drawing to it
substance looking toward the sun


cacophony of the city
a white noise shattering thought

pure attention of nerve


turmoil of travail

redundancy of pain




a frame of reference
refers only to itself

unconditional laughter


my trance got in the way of my illumination


open here
slip through

wind up where you are


vanity of perfection

it already is


I interfere
I am set in my place
I squirm
I am set in my place
I howl
I am set in my place
I recite rosaries
I am set in my place
I demand retractions
I am set in my place
I weary on one last throw
I am set in my place
I am (not quite) speechless
I am set in my place
I go good
I am set in my place
I go bad
I am set in my place
I give in
I am set in my place
I grow quiet
I am set in my place
I breathe deep
I am set in my place
I move forward again
I am set in my place
I am set in my place

yes I am

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

I buried the man I used to be
and now can be wholly and only me

but who that is I must find
before another identity strikes me blind

or before I wander along some coast
looking for that grave like a ghost

who cannot believe that he has died
only to have his consciousness abide

the process acknowledged in every insight
layer on layer shoveled off and dusted

a new vehicle to extend the journey through night
to an unfailing day when the mind's truly trusted

being wholly and only me
ready to bury the next man I'll be

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
back in the world

dirty cotton sky

mild breeze from the southwest

the skyline broken here and there

with new building

the precise view that will never be again

all my scenes imposed on this fleeting forever

the content of my being

back in the world

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
There is no such thing as a day off.

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.

Monday, April 12, 2010

All CEOs are terrorists--

and we are their human shields

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.

Monday, April 5, 2010

a path forks--

and now I'm in a quandry--

I know all roads lead home
but spare me the smug piety--

it's the talking that path
that kills us slowly--gives warning

in a language we can never
begin to understand

attending our deluded notions
of manipulating our fates--

learn it--grace does NOT suspend karma
unless karma has BEEN suspended--

you wait for it to take care of your business
and you're finished--

a path splits and either way I go

I'll still have to contend with what I've done

and where I'll wind up next-whatever way opens
and whatever the One allows--

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.

what annoyance now
as we discard skins of our heroes
and play out damning evidence

that others can suavely dismiss
with pretended wisdom--
welcome down to where we are

we failed--and will make damn sure
you do too--good Lord
all the shit we have to endure

just to find out who we really are--

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.

Friday, April 2, 2010

loving the ice queen...

be a paraselenic homage
to her own stark illumination...

call her any name
in your memory that hurts

and she is exactly that lover
any night of crystalline dread

calling forth your desire...


oh the consciousness of mankind
is superceding his creations

they stand transparently
in their own forms

while the consciousness of mankind
slowly becomes aware of its own element

of process and the forms morph
before his own empirical eyes

into their living instant of being--
the process--for lack of a fit word--ongoing


Rimbaud tried it and got only so far
because his love was a wounded twisted thing--

not sure which another he was--


skein of space and time--
preserve our acts in the weave of thought
and effort harmonious with that design--

as other knots of imperfection fall away...


how many skins shed in this awareness
of beauty beyond all coveting--

the essence manifest in the sensual form
that completes the ritual

of self joining self--and lit on this earth
by the balance of sun and moon--

the interlocking embrace of lover and beloved--
the skins of previous identities falling away

as our bloom rises to the moon
where surveying the lit field as we rise...

all before now back into the perpetual element
dust to dust--lust to love--

and nothing but the transparency
of this instant--this always--

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.

Thursday, April 1, 2010

his eyes were too steady and sharp
darting around
looking sidewards at me in glances
while he announced
to the herds of tourists shuffling
along 42nd Street

that's right buddy keep checking me out
I needn't say a word to you

I remember today's date

and frankly
we all know what time it is...

Content 2008-2010 Philip Milito.