phil milito day blog: 2011

Friday, December 30, 2011

is the coast clear?

can we come out from hiding?

can we hoist our socks

and meet this outrageous new dawn

with a modicum of unbreakable mettle?

I'm not a betting man

and even I say to hell with it

kick it in the teeth

show it who's boss

(even if it is maybe

the Cosmos will respect the chutzpah)

let all this chaos and transformation

be more 'beginning of the new'

rather than 'ending of the old'

let all this cosmic shifting

uncover wisdoms we thought

were forever lost

(he said with fingers crossed)

let the bones and the angels sing together

let the widow and widower rejoin their mates

somewhere the world can't find and hurt them again

let all manner of being find its peace

in the maelstrom we call consciousness

let all we hate and all we love

find common ground in the infinity between

the ticks of our clocks or the beats of our hearts

let nothing be lost but that which has served its purpose

(and even then is it truly lost?)

I'm ready to move

good to go

road-tested and with plenty

of reason to be confident in anything

that comes be it triumph or wipeout

let us all make to be on our way

let it be what it is

let it be enough...

Wednesday, December 28, 2011

timeless moment

when anger vanishes

and pity subsides

and regret fades to sweet sorrow

timeless moment

itself a contradiction

an inadequate explanation

of an eternal instant of always now

in that Spaceless space

in that Timeless time

all unhappiness evaporates

all joys also

to be there without identity

in the spot where a description stood...

sun retreats once more

and gray slabs of cloud

slide over the sky

like a closing eye

ready now to see in its dream

the dream it saw when it was awake

gray slabs of cloud

closing over the eye

the long shadow at high noon

yes I guess a circle is truly closing

here in this winter of shock

when night lurks in every shadow

and I head toward home...

the weakest link is now the strongest hold

assume nothing

judge nothing

do not freight this lean connection

with all manor of misapprehension

because a new world will exist and die out in one second

as a new world comes into being and passes in the next second

the dynamic of change in your own detachment...

you'd be surprised how many people

actually walk away from a gaming table

or an traffic accident or an attempted assault

get on that horse again and ride as they say

and still don't know why at the next pocket-draining plunge

or the next crumple of smashed bodywork

or the encounter where they fight back and win

or cower shivering and robbed after going back

to the scene of the crime as if they could exorcise its effect on them

chants of a personal superstition

denial being the commonest and most practiced therapy

no maybe you won't be surprised

not if you're alive and present in this instant

also shaking your head in disbelief

under this wonderful gray sky

a breath of possible snow

as I walk consumed by all

I've done left behind

and what is to come thankfully

not here yet

so I may indulge a brief serenity

and hopeful for a dusting at least

without being disappointed

if it doesn't turn out that way

and if it will not that also will be fine

preserved in its own perfection

one trying to will his own satisfaction

against a light gray snow of a moment of an afternoon

I gave you an edge

when I confessed

I loved you

beyond all reason

your calm presence

my anxious attendance

merely two sides

of the same worship

only as you prepare to depart

do you look back at the road you've traveled

and all you were given to know

locks into place piece by piece

the puzzle if not entirely solved

(you never fill in the blank spaces

of what you didn't know

at least not here)

then with enough of the picture revealed

to send you whirling with vertigo

on your way dizzy with awe and bemusement

amazed in recall even more strongly

then when you lived it as you will continue to do

all of it in you all of it you

"I love you"s

swirl like a late spring snowstorm

hit the ground with all the passion of gravity

then disappear in the sun

oh but while that storm whips the air

"I love you"s live their eternity...

repentance is almost like betting against the House

the odds are stacked

but the kinetic movement of action

opens a door ever so slightly for chance

to slip in and only the smart know not to bank on that

repentance is knowing when to walk away...

no sorrows no regrets--

a dream of some downtrodden soul

who'll never reform his ways

and live his intentions

and knows it--

but he imagines some relief in release

from his earthly bonds--

let him have even that fantasy--

even as he secretly senses he will continue after this--

Tuesday, December 27, 2011

OLD ALIBIS

soothe the disappointed

the world won't end when they want it to...

they're just going to have to live

they're just going to have to face what life is

I'll miss the old alibis

the fumbled lines tell-tale on the tongue

the moment of hesitation

that anyone simple as a child would notice

(and be as indiscreet as to point out

in front of everyone)

I'll miss hearing them

from someone squirming as deeply

as I or anyone else ever has

in front of Inquisitor X Y or Z

the final silence passing a loud judgment

I'll miss the pure bravado of being a human being

wearing his skin inside out every time

he passes the scenes of his crimes

that once jabbed and drew blood

but now are inspected like an elderly tourist

returning to the place of his first assignation

and remembering no detail other than the object

of his temptation...

even my guardian angels are no help

I beg for guidance

and they lead me through one pile of shit after another

what gamble did I risk and lose

for my own spirit guides

to fade my action?

so the worse is yet to be

how do you know?

go back to your bedroom and fap up a vision

I've lost my way many times

and found it again

or took another way

either way

I moved where I headed

and got where I was going

amazing how some can hear this piece of news

and be flabbergasted...

we will not broach any question tonight

you need to feel good about yourself

go betray someone else

I'm keeping still satisfied that no one you find

will forgive you...

no one believes you anymore

you should have hired new writers

you should have thought up new excuses

everyone's heard these before

time for a new location

time to travel or do you need to be told to get going while you can?

the ghost's shadow lengthens in the dark of the moon

shout

give the game away

turn yourself for the reward but

no one heard

no one cares

and someone else claimed the money with your name and face

no wonder you hate being yourself

I really can't blame you...

many people are blind to their own truth

they hear nothing but blood rushing through

the capillaries of the ears

and pull themselves along that rope in the dark

or was it some divine muttering they couldn't understand?

in truth (any truth will do) it is absence of any certainty

that keeps us going forward

and any truth will affirm that...

the compounds of matter that make this world

(and all the worlds of conditioned creation)

are unstable by nature

your truth embodies you perfectly

do not dishonor it

do not be blind to it

it is only one of many

but it is the only one that's you

* * * *

if God is no respecter of persons

does it mean He's no answerer of questions?

is it "ask and ye shall receive" or "ask and fall in grace?"

"Make one mistake with me and you're done!

You're finished! You're through!"

isn't that a little harsh either way, my dear?

do you not think it will rebound on you?

God is hard enough to love when vengeance is His strongest suit

but don't align yourself with that

or you'll wind up with more to your reckoning

than you bargained for

figure it out then lay no claim to it

ask and be allowed forgiveness

or ask and be done...finished...through...

so I've come back to my senses

the ruins still surround me

all I built up has been knocked down

and even I am fed up with raging at the sky

but trembling in a corner of my brain

is the reason I took this path through life

this slog through mud and tears

in the name of art or teaching or personal expression

or whatever the hell it is I thought I was doing

and did so poorly that those who turned to me

turned away and taught me all I know of loss

who the guru and who the disciple

I've come back to my senses with a ton of homework

teacher and pupil to myself

I know it is not only me

caught in these ridiculously hard times

all I love are suffering

and those who are comfortable

are more insufferably selfish

and uncaring as they've ever been

it means nothing to say God will have the last word

the One is still busy clearing His throat

(more's the pity)

but this is the time when we stop

bowing and scraping before such idols

and take in hand the roiling surges of happenings

and bring them to heal ourselves

we may fail but we at least we tried...

I feel shivering and naked

under the Eye of the heavens

I don't know if I'm lost or found

I don't know anything anymore

but hard as they be I have love here

to attend to and if they mean little or nothing

to the One then so be it

to do right in the absence of all support (Divine help included)

shows I'm either mentally ill or I'm doing it right

and to stay strong enough to do it without godly sanction...

well...let that be someone else's glory

and now what punishment will I receive

for daring to question God and His ways?

I don't see how much worse than this it can get

but oh how unpleasantly surprised I could be

I'll just say no more and endure this vengeance

maybe with no hopes or expectations

I can suffer a little more bearably

the unrelenting justice of this One

you fuck me every inch of the way

and then you expect hosannas?

you can't be for real!

show a little mercy

accept we are weak and trying our best to get it right

but spare us the vengeance

the unrelenting unforgiving spite of your righteousness

stop "loving" us in this brutal way

and maybe you'll get some shake

I don't even care anymore if I'm falling in grace

for daring to say this but enough already

love us or leave us alone...

Monday, December 26, 2011

my harms are many

my salvations few

let the Lord weep for me

when I die and His vengeance is through

I don't care if it's not what He wanted

it's His Will and we can go to hell

when all pleas and laments were silently taunted

I knew I had no one no one to tell

about the lingering smell of righteousness

burning a hole in the side of my raft

and to human yells of "God Almighty please please enough"

so a whole life wasted in my craven craft

where I lost like blood drop by dropping drip any remaining trust

many harms few to help and a view of earthly reality bereft

God will not permit forgiveness or mercy

thus we are obliged not to accept His blessings or His Will

do the right thing

even if the Iron Rod pounds you senseless

the fool who believes is the fool who deceives

beware those so eager to do God's dirty work for Him

better to have your short painful and beautiful life

in the earth rather than serve in this army of goons

forever in the service of evil

Friday, December 23, 2011

pride and vanity

are mockeries of the soul

be better than that

be humble and get all you'd need or want

don't get it?

I don't quite myself

but God knows I praise with full heart

when I say "thank you for the little things"

I have plenty to say

but why bother?

no one gets it

and if they do

they disagree violently

to all their understanding

to all their certitude

teacher and pupil are one

in the torment of the lesson...

reality on earth is hard enough

but we're never satisfied

we're not happy unless we make

a harder job of it

choke a chicken

break its neck

forget what you crave most in life

and know it's only dreck

I can't explain why

what we love drags us down

I only know what we love finally

drags us into the ground

the Ideal may be All

but the earthly reality

is the unrelenting muck

we tread

to get where we need to be

and sadly that's part of the Ideal Plan also...

balsamic dark of the moon

the last loose ends tied

the last false hopes

fading in the light of the Capricorn sun

another year pledging a fresh start

another year failing a fresh start

it takes more than one lifetime

to change one's nature

it takes more than one lifetime

to fully repent

I'm ready to leave well enough alone

I'm ready to die a million times to live forever

Thursday, December 22, 2011

holiday greetings

are latent through the year's worth of days

but as human kind cannot bear

too much reality

(like not surviving a look

at the Divine Face)

it is ordained that this time of year

we can access these permanent states of being

peace joy happiness and even they are nowhere near

the Actuality of the One

as long as we wear these earthly skins

and the raiments of other realities

these approximations are the closest we'll get

to the Final Destination we seek

itself a poor approximation of reality

because it is always around us

and we'll shed skin after skin layer after layer

until we emerge finished into it...

I've snapped out of my trance

my guru laughs

and I smile this instant

in the ordinary daily sunlight

I don't care what happens next

it's happened before

and will again

the Outcomes will be different

as far as material particulars go

but the Essence is eternal

it is the Infinite measure and why

I don't care what happens next...

alone and not alone

each cluster of conversation

is a joining of different universes

each one and all together

this is what I and all I can say

in the old dispensation

how different will the new one be?

what will I say or anyone say

if anything at all?

I'll think on it but not too long

any conclusion will be reversed in an instant

and there I and we will have to go again...

a change has infused us

beyond conscious comprehension

we're not sure what it is

but we feel it

and can never go back to what we were

anxious and excited

and slightly crazed

as if we were ill and this new mode

is a shot of antibiotics

and this new take no more

than a fever-inducing cure...

and now the sun

is low and still

on the southern horizon

of the northern hemisphere

the regeneration

of the earthly cycles

by infusions of life force

as a new year's seed time

one more day and the sun

will begin its daily rise

to bloom full

in its opposite constellation

in the height of summer

exactly where it is now

in the northern horizon

of the southern hemisphere

north and south

the facing mirrors of the world

reflecting the same

diamond-sparkling sun

the same diamond-sparkling

sun

Wednesday, December 21, 2011

old goat admit it

you'd have any of these sweet young'uns if you could

yes

I confess

but being passed my prime

I have the luxury of appreciating them

and pitying the young bucks

who like all of us will learn the hard way

what it all means...

oh it isn't as dire as all that

there's good food and companionship in the daily world

plenty of infinite moments looking at the gray sky

feeling the warm (for December) air

and watching the young beauties pass

in all their self-possession

desirous beyond all reason

trying it out...

like grain through a hole in the bag

my insides are spilling out

so this is the purge

and I hang on a hook

watching all I held

roll along the winnowing floor

to what gathering and planting

I'll never know

I followed my muse

she led me up an alley

she blew me and knew me

and left me for dead

among the garbage cans

whew whatta trip come back my dear...

yesterday was such a glorious day

today can only be a letdown

I told my love this and she said

"That's typical of your pessimism"

(and she a fan of ol' Tom Hardy

I'd have thought she'd know better)

it's not pessimism

it's reality

just the way God made it

just the way God intends for us

to burn and learn

(And may I add tomorrow may be as glorious as yesterday

have no expectations

and you won't be disappointed...)

I crawl through my wormhole

in the cheese of Time

limburger unfortunately

I'm enthralled to an idea of redemption

and transcendence

that is just another meager fantasy

to cushion the hardness of daily worldly living

but somewhere in that morass

is the way through and out and beyond

would we were wise enough to read the signs accurately

and find that way...

I'm killing myself to write all this

is that adequate excuse?

why should I care if anyone sees all this or not?

is my hunger for recognition so strong

it's enough to overturn everything I know

about the virtues of humility?

what's to come has already been

did you see it in its passing?

do you know what it is for?

I've come and gone

and come and gone again

do I know my passings?

do I know what it is all for?

what's already been will come again

and seem a fresh quandary

to our limited human minds

we praise to be flattered by our devotion

we are flattered to be praised

truly our concern for others

is the most extreme form of self-concern

love as you would be loved

why is this so hard to grasp?

why do we make this such an impossibility?

where are your souls now?

in some hope chest of memories?

in some wistful bag of nostalgia?

all that lives is holy

is eternal and will not pass into oblivion

unless one would will it so

you're not going anywhere

let your souls out for the duration...

William will have been gone from us

five years this Boxing Day

he was the IMP

my buddy

even as the tumor took his legs

his front paws dragged him along

with all the power and feistiness

he had when he was whole

I'd say only pet owners would get what I'm saying

but if all life is sacred

then know he was the Prince of Cats

yet another among all who've loved their animals perhaps

but he was our Prince

and I feel his animal spirit rub my leg

as I write this

to hell with those who don't believe

I feel him rub my leg

as I write this...

always saying good-bye

and yet I'm still here

I think I'm done

but a Greater One

says not

I don't know when I'll be going

but when I do

I'll still be here

only without my skin

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

I rue no day I am alive in the earth

nor do I rue the earth itself

painful and beautiful

and as perfect as the inexorable processes

will allow it to be

but oh my fellow creatures

with whom I am one because of the One

oh Suffering Christ on every rood of creation

how they are another story altogether

how rue of them then crushes with

the imperfections of relentless processes

and I am changed by weakness from faux righteousness

to be healed of my vanity but left ugly

to rue the earth and every day I am alive

now that I've bestowed my small benediction

in the previous post

I brace for the hard reality that will test it

the hard reality testing all of us

when the world makes us suffer

for doing the right thing

no cups of kindness this year

except among kin and kind

more than ever

no public spirit to hoist false celebrations

more than ever

we are finding our way back to the original meanings

of this season (in all its origins and transformations)

let the heartless strengthen the illusions

that kill us little by little each living day

we are finding our ways back to our clans

and neighbors where lovers know love

and hoist the true cups of kindness

old age watches a new world breaking upon us

glad not to be part of the terrifying new wonders

that the young will only spoil with their pride and ignorance

like their fathers and their fathers before them

ruining their times in a painful learning

thus is each of us history as such

but of that I would not make too much

old age knows to what youth aspires

and how quickly the quester easily tires

and who could one trust

when faced with their own shame

ego wounded and quietly burning

to share this realization as a confidence?

old age will know history will cease and then will come splenders...

what a petulant nasty little bitch she was

spoiled brat of some faceless billionaire

demanding instant responses to her commands

as if the world were filled with nothing but hired help

I took my time in answering

in fact downright semi-ignored her

how she glowered in her tiny rage

and I flashed on an afterlife where I was riding on

what could only be described in earthly terms

as a conveyor belt of souls

passing her as she trudged one slow lifted leg

at a time in some celestial tar pit

muttering in a tearful despair

how hard to remember when we're wearing skin

that we all get what's coming to us

but I didn't forget this time

we cannot know eternity in time

except in those instants where we forget ourselves

and stare blank-minded into some unfocussed middle distance

aware of nothing but Awareness Itself

(oh hopeless contradiction because no word can express

the inexpressible Pure Awareness aware that it is unaware of itself)

see? you give telling this untellable actuality a try

and know no eternity in time

I know the mystics say 'as above so below'

but where infinity whips the galaxies

here in the earth vibrations pass through us

and one eon is much like another

don't be fooled by the superficial novelties

of any particular time

whatever essence pulsates between the stars

in the earth one eon is much like another

you awoke from your dark passage

pitch black as nothingness at the heart

an amoebic single cell life form

on a dawning beach

as light played on the slimy sac of your

newly revived being

without even a question of 'what now?'

just the stirrings of new sensation

as you lay open as an eye

to your surroundings

blurred edges sharpening instantly

to the razor thin cut of one entity through its world

pure in the instant

possessing no inner content but what is all around you

the infinite moment is all of life***************

************************************

*******************************************

****************************************until

an awareness intrudes and a sheer veil falls

and now you are cognizant

now you have an identity and a sense of self

settles on you like grave dirt shoveled onto a corpse

and this is what it is like to live in the earth

despite its beauty and pain and the Awareness

of a Greater One who is the very Essence and Substance

of you and your worlds and others and their worlds

and the Eye That Sees Itself and Sees That It Sees Itself

and the Thing It Sees That Sees It

and all that purity dissipates like a mist in sunlight

and that sunlight casts shadows dark as caves or graves

or whatever enclosure you imagine this existential

material place we all share to be

here the One manifests in everything

even our sinful karma-freighted selves

yet for all our love and sharing and togetherness

each one of us here alone

so in this world where day is blacker

than any night in your idea of hell (or the hell

that is this world)

you stumble toward others

stumble toward us

stumble toward me

and together we look at each other

and see traces of our dark passages

that beat and broke us beyond any identity

we could hold

staring at each other in the disbelief

that precedes acknowledgment and acceptance

and for that instant the world*************

**************************************************

*******************************

****************************************

******************************is a dawning beach

**************the********sun********the*********sun***********...

Monday, December 19, 2011

2012

the long prophesied year

has come at last

and as ever the terrible unmerciful choice

to walk in Light or crawl in Darkness

except now all souls present in the earth at this time

have the crucial weight of eons on them

while every moment-to-moment choice is determinative

this choice on us now is definitive

a higher Awareness settles in for those striving up

while a lower Ignorance drags on those devolving down

clean of the past including all speculation of what is to come

what's to come has already been

it is 2012 the long appointed time come at last

and now we'll see how it actually goes down...

Content 2008-2011 Philip Milito.

at last the scales will really fall away from our eyes

and the Light will blind

and the shackled wrists will rub our lids

and as our sight adjusts

we will again be dumbfounded in the Eternal Present

staring at this world as if it mattered...

I'd rather be waterboarded or have bamboo

slipped under my finger nails

or have some mongrel grab my open wound

and squeeze it until I'm passed tears and consciousness

then believe anything you'd have to say to me

trust no one but yourself

you'd think people would've wised up by now

but every day each fresh situation

makes us forget what we know is right

and tempts us to think too long and too hard

and we have to deal with the situation in any case

so we trust...and God damn it! if we aren't

snagged again...

I tend to ignore "positive thinkers"

they seem to think acknowledging an external reality

we all share (such as the World of this

material plane)

is some form of negativity

better to ignore that

then be imprisoned in the illusions

they need to function

if they wanted everything to go in some

straight line to transcendence

they'd live in their prayers and affirmation

while I draw my strength affirming

I haven't got a prayer

Friday, December 16, 2011

I review my life

same idiotic questions

but come fresher insights

with each run-through

hard to take wing

in the face of my facts

I feel as disingenuous

as a bird afraid of heights

Thursday, December 15, 2011

33 years ago today

I stood on Pico Boulevard in Santa Monica

in the early Friday morning

watching a full moon set over the distant Malibu hills

waiting to take the bus into Beverly Hills

to work at First National Bank as a collection clerk

(God knows what the bank's called now)

just a month and a half away from my scene

with the people I was living with

falling to pieces in a reckoning of betrayal

and bitterness and calumny

now 33 years later

my future is as uncertain to me

as the future seemed to me then

always scrambling to hold onto what I had

and losing it

losing it so easily because there was never

anything extra to save and built upon

but then

as now

an extra deep resonance

intensified my focus

made me see what came to me

and what flowed away

and it makes no difference whether I have anything or not

it is always me in this skin

seeing everything in a heightened focus

seeing it only through these eyes

only with this consciousness

wondering why I am always me

and not someone else or

why 33 years or a second ago are equally far past

or why the next second is a moment away

then now

then gone...

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

I walk like a ghost

through walls into other dimensions

I'm almost sure of it

though no one else is in this with me

and even if they were could I trust what they'd have to say?

people lost years ago

removed from my life by force or flow

pass by with smiles or scowls

some casting pale shadows

and others a human-shaped lens

for the low leaning afternoon sun

to shine through

but no noise

but some muffled roar that could be wind

or could be blood rushing through my ears

no notice of anyone advancing

no warning through the air of a footfall or tire screech

just some entity flitting toward or past me

and disappearing as suddenly

and my surroundings prosaic as the daily world

but with a strange edge vivid

vivid almost beyond bearing but mesmerizing

as if I would a single concentrated beam of light

shattering prism-like on their edges

I have never felt so awake

I have never felt so frightened

but I walk like a ghost

into other worlds

that all look like this daily earth

but in aspects that defy even my experience of them

am I ghost?

am I drugged?

am I having a seizure?

do I know what the hell I'm talking about?

to whom do I yell "please help me?"

to whom do I scream "Christ Almighty please save me?"

whom would I hope could hear this and respond

if any would hear it at all?

specter of some kind

I am in this alone

I'm a pile of ash being blown into the future

where I may reassemble as a new being...

no no that's not quite it

I'm a stone being blasted with dynamite

by developers who wanted to carpet this field

with cement for a mall

no no that doesn't get it either

alright how 'bout

I'm a piece of dog shit being hosed down a sewer inlet

by some Divine custodian of a luxury condo

of many mansions to a floor

oh forget it what words what arts what anything

gets it?

the only peace I've had lately

is to lie broken in the ruins of whatever day

and stare at the ceiling

with nothing to say

nothing to think

all incentive exhausted

just blank mind

and the last memory of hope as I lost it

I feel I'm about to crack in two

with little for me and less for you

two pieces of my heart with soul in tatters

it wasn't how I wanted it but what I wanted doesn't matter

are you happy?

are you brave?

can I share in

whatever you're holdin'?

tested every moment of every minute of every hour

every single God-damned day

and every surge of anger that tears seems to increase my power

and choices confused in every single God-damned way

welcome to the World dear

if God wanted you to be happy

God wouldn't've put you here

thus we all have some reckonings on us here you see?

I don't know what and I don't know why

and I really don't care who

but somebody's playing me for a fool

and when I find out I'll handle it so well

I'll bless the open wound they make as they take

that part of me with them to hell

sorry it has to be like this

but they called it and got their wish

Monday, December 12, 2011

my partisans

it is not your imaginations

these are the worst of days

when souls from various other times

have brought their miserable spiritual baggage

to this earthly plane to 'work out their destinies' (ugh!)

during this terrible time of historical transition

how else explain the surplus of ravening lunatics

who've learned nothing from one life to the next

come now to make hell on this earth?

no need to preach

we all see the shit around us

and any poet or politician who claims to lead

is a deluded liar at best

in our frail human impotence

to deal with this apocalyptic moment in time

we can only suffer and endure

because how it all turns out is beyond our scope

even if it is all built on our mere mortal choices

but some clairvoyant (I don't remember who)

claimed to see as far into the future as the 22nd century

and this mystic declared there'd be great abandoned ruins

(the remnants of all that is now forming)

and very very few people present at that time

horrible as that may seem to some

I hope by grace of the One and the play of karma

I come back into the world at that time

I may as always be mistaken

but that world seems like one in which I can function

and any failures I/we endure may be one step closer

to the release from earthly suffering we seek...

Thursday, December 8, 2011

I grow weak and wither

in the long sunlight

the darkest time

of the darkest year

yet I am more myself

than I've ever been

in this easy doom

in this early night

I've been broken on my own rack

amid dark nights and panic attacks

and now I'm forced to confess

I cannot endure notions of holiness

through every course of prayer and fasting

came no transcendence that was lasting

I thought too much on what was beyond my scope

while ordinary folk kept a simple faith and hope

yes yes spiritual pride common as a grave

has hollowed me out with nothing left to save

how to fill this hole in me I've no clue

I have no idea what I had to do

all I've sought now means nothing to me

I've grown ugly in my pursuit of beauty

you or I

could be gone

at any moment

so flip a bird

at the sky

and say "Bring it on!"

that is what it is

to live

mercy is not in the Divine vocabulary

pain I know all about

it's being a stranger to my happiness

that takes the life out of me

autopsy verdict:

"death by God..."

severe pain through the ribs and right shoulder

from hauling a 783 lb. traveling bag out of a car trunk

for some stupid bitch come to New York City

to shop shop shop with money she supposedly doesn't have

"pity please the ones who serve

they only get what they deserve"

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

the sky ignores my pleading

if God didn't spare Jesus his ordeal

why would He show me any particular grace?

how could I expect any particular dispensation?

fool I was and fool I am

a child's belief in God's Love

disabused so thoroughly

the sky has settled that folly once and for all

I was so far ahead of my time back in the day

it's no surprise to find me here and now

as the worlds we've pass away

and a new one tramples the ruins

to build a edifice of heartlessness

on the wreckage (and I don't mean

the heartlessness and blank mind of the Buddah)

humanity has brought its delusion of mastery

to this fruition

this anti-christ kingdom of tyranny

in the service of a moron's idea

of salvation

yeah I saw it coming years ago

and found to my misery that there was

nothing to do about it but endure it

welcome to my compound

there's plenty of supplies and despair

and when they run out

we'll be done

for the time being...

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

winds whirling

in the empty dome of the night sky

rattling the jittery stars

and buffeting the Moon with fierce clouds

carry me

away from the night

away from the edge of all worlds

passed all horizons

until I feel no air gliding along my flesh

being one with this rush

beyond everything

and oh again

the content

of realization

in one word

the amount of

repetition

an indicator

of dimness

brightening

no judgments here

as I age and decline

the content

of my enlightenment

is nothing but oh

and oh again

I should be ashamed of myself

scaring ordinary folk with ravings of apocalyptic

cataclysms and the failure of social cohesion

maybe it's because I envy the bubbles they inhabit

protecting them from the nastiness of life

(at least as long as those bubbles go before bursting)

it gets wearying to feel everything full force

but hell I need some kind of recreation

but yes I should be ashamed to boast of grabbing

that 'low-hanging fruit' as they say

the Days of the Outsider

are 'officially' drawing to a close--

show any originality or individuality

and the Herd will hunt you down--

it won't do to tritely blather "T'was ever thus"

so it's been but now the Rulers of the World

have the technology to enforce their tyranny

with the help of a common Herd

that buys into this proposition--

(I mean who cares about anybody else

as long as whoever's rights and freedoms

come first) and since they're groomed for their place

in the Machine it's been decided that Outsiders

will indeed remain outside and left to die

but

there are plenty of us 'outside'

and we're just waiting for your first flat tire

outside your compound

your first wild panic when the Grid goes down

and your smug ignorance of Reality

leaves you twisting in a howling gale

with no clue how anything really functions

no servants or hired help at which to bark orders

(see how quickly and easily the Control

you've thrown in with throws you out)

there are plenty of us as I've said

and we're very very patient

waiting for you to stumble down 'our' alleyway

common herd with no clue what the word 'slaughter'

means

I believe it's no accident

that 'fool' rhymes with 'stool'

Monday, December 5, 2011

the Ideal has eluded me

thus does the world's common reality

collect a toll beyond my ability to pay

and thus is the Ideal

made manifest in my defeat...

the merciless lesson takes

so thoroughly I cannot be sure

I won't fail again...cannot be sure of anything...

wise words tempt fools to reach beyond their capabilities...

(and sometimes even the wise)

I love fog

it is the inner world

made manifest

it is the only time

in this world

when I can be sure of anything

reflection confirms one's own complicity

in one's own undoing

no wonder so many ones wish to be

insane...as if that were adequate excuse

for one's behavior...

such easy talk such utter contempt

from the ones who cast no reflection

to those crazy enough to be consumed by theirs...

Friday, December 2, 2011

it's gonna take a whole lotta us

to rhyme with hippopotamus

but spin us tight and long when we're halved

and you'll wind up with a whole giraffe

the shaman wasn't even tryin'

when he turned a fawn into a lion

and we in the tribe tremble at the well

hear a moan through the branches and flee like gazelle

while one bleating calf and one small child

look at each other and then run wild

teaching the elders who speak to the spirits

they should say nothing and the animals will hear it

then how different are we with our crowns absurd

who either hunt or hide in the herd?

Thursday, December 1, 2011

the Antichrist wears a smiley face

is cordial and hugely attractive

sticks to the script

explains without understanding

why the company is liable for nothing

is sorry for the inconvenience

wishes you a great day

and can't wait for happy hour

posting this

with the supreme (if deluded) hope

that there is still more

left to Life

than wondering what will come along

next to bite my ass...

Saturday, November 26, 2011

I have little I can love and know it is love

the lusts the hungers the foolishness

that comprises my daily comedy

no longer amuse or entice me

and all I have left (fragile as it is)

is the little I can love that I know is love

if God wants me to sing His praises

He going to have to treat me

a little more sweetly

I know His justice

I've felt (in spades) His vengeance

now I need to know

His mercy and His love

how can I praise the One

when I'm a stranger to His grace?

my heart is full

I cannot load all my emotions

or my outcomes into it

for processing

I've exhausted everything I'm about

and where I once saw a way

now I just see

the cul-de-sac of a life

I meant to tell you so much

I thought we'd have time

to get to all these things

now that time has run out

what is left to say

except sorry I put it all off?

consequence

the only concern of the One

the judgement setting right

all wrong of effort

and if your sorrow

gets the better of you

well then

consequence has been served

the daily trudge

wearying and wasted

illusion would

trick me and jump start

my energy

but I've lost hope

but at least I won't be fooled

into the wrong destination

each day closer

to where I'm going

each night

the stress

and worry of getting there

each dawn

the stirring

the next move

Friday, November 25, 2011

all lovers of peace

know no peace

while they are in the earth

they are constantly oppressed

by the tyrants of need

who surround them daily

as strangers on the street

or as family who stick pins

in every desire to be one's own

maybe they all are

the same as the peace lovers

and this appalling facade of nastiness

is put the thick skin of acclimation

against the little murders

we perform on each other daily

because in our earthly suffering

we'd beat the Almighty unrecognizable

and left the rotten evil tyrant

in the ditch of His own hell

oh maybe I'm too bitter

and blasphemy is the only way

to project the self-hatred

my own failings have fostered in me

but to find out the hard way

that Grace does NOT supersede karma

and that all the mercy we learned to beseech

the heavens for is the reason

why men turn from the sky

of their imaginings and are the better for it

without these bogus beliefs they learn

from suffering that we all suffer the same

from which the comfort of our daily living

insulate us

is it any wonder anyone would give

all that one's got

to be at peace

the disallowed prohibited flimsy peace

that is but a taste of the heavens

and just a momentary stasis

that smashes hope even as it

strengthens the will

while these are in the earth

all lovers of peace

know no peace

except for that fleeting instant of realization...

you thought I loved you

I did too

now years later

I can't believe either of us

what blinded us

to the inevitable?

what made us think

roses could grow in stone?

my love is easy

it's all in my mind

and so easy to enact

when I am alone

and my bitterness swells

how much can I hurt?

I've lost all track

how much can I love and relate to it?

endlessly obviously

as above so below

all you have to do to know God

is look at the creature (us)

who are in His Image

doesn't that tell you enough of how

miserable we are?

cold ruthless unforgiving

who gives the only chpoice

our way or no way

all we know of God is vengeance

but not one word about the Love

except from deluded believers

who'll never realize how evil

they really are

or how much of a sick joke belief truly is

if you believe in Love

get used to the endless privations and miseries

that the spiritually mature know by heart and soul

and live will pained joy and acceptance

while assholes like me rage against

this condition

this Life-As-It-Is

oh hive buzzing all night in the wall

bees still active in the false spring of November

tropical species move farther north

creatures of the shore

begin mountain climbing

higher each season

oh intractably maniacal Man

lord of the fields and the streams

caretaker and provider of his various tribes

drones poking around in their honey-combed communities

petty little tyrant in a smooth sackcloth of yellow and black fuzz

surrounding his jittery wings

what have you done with your dominion

you endlessly evil fool?

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

oh what a day to go mad

don't know more than you really do

or claim more than you can handle

the liability is totally on you

and God is worse than a Fagin

when it comes to sharing your spoils

and leaving you the grace you thought

would be a balm to madness...

apocalypse rages all around me

and all I can worship

is the large round ass

the tapered legs

and long hanging hair

of this neighborhood's local goddess

oh the Absurdity!

my strength is gone

I am at the mercy of the Merciless

what does it matter

if I make it through this unbelievable ordeal of living?

"Starlight in the east...You're finally released...

But you're stranded with nothing to share..."

there is the harsh unyielding price

you must lose all

even your fancy beliefs

if you will receive the reality

of which God treats...

who knew love and joy

were such anathema

even to the God

of love and joy?

I sink in my regret and anger

but so what?

I'll have to pay for this

in some future life

no matter how contrite I many be

I don't know why Jesus suffered as he did but if God

is so niggardly with Grace

then why are we bothering?

just live and do what you know is right

let that count

even if it doesn't matter to God

it's got to matter somewhere somehow

or why be alive at all?

for those who love Life

let them be saved

for those who love greed and power and know

no love or belief of God

let them rot

I don't care if all my suffering hardened me

instead of enlightened me

let them rot

let them ROT

I would LOVE to track down EVERY asshole

of this generation...

all those who think this technological world

they were born into is some wonderful perfect state of Being

and reach down their throats and pull their assholes

out through their teeth and tie it in a knot

and let it spring back through the base of their skulls

I hate what you scumbags have done to this world

and I hate it that God had let you do it

it's hard enough to accept God's utter lack of mercy and grace

(vengeance being the One's only real concern

and fuck all of us who were stupid and blind enough

to think otherwise)

but I don't give a shit anymore

I'm near the end of this life and I welcome that end

and let this generation drop and rot in its own shit

it may hurt me...may hurt us all because of our Oneness

but I blew my life and God has NO pity

so why should I show mercy or pity?

let the scumbags who are ruining this world have their way

and let them suffer for it accordingly

let them scream and reach out of their fire

let them burn for the hell they've made of this world

we are all we have

let us treat each other more kindly

the Devil is us

but the grace retrieves

from that hell

and that is how the fallen

rise...

women will lead me to hell

over and over again

and in our bliss

we will escape the harrowing

the tongue on the vent

the spasms of ecstasy

and in our loving cumming

will we transcend the hell

that is actually heaven in disguise

how strange to be old now

and to feel as I did when I was young

the young beauties are hotter than ever

and I have nothing to offer them

until they get to the age their pliant mothers are

all night long

with poppi working the night shift

(if he has a job at all)

and looking for the sweet touch of someone

who loves them more

than the ravages of time can afford

mommie I am here for you

your dry vent I will lubricate

and give you

multiple orgasms

that will make you shatter

like church bells

on the eve of a feast

and we will both be more grateful

than we have ever been

than we have ever been

I don't know where I'm going

I care less about where I've been

and if everything is everything

as they used to say

then I should care less where end up

I was on my way there anyway

oh my oh my

what discontent raises its ugly head now

as a salvation beckons

and we miss it

pursuing our other plans

I give you joy

in your journey

that is all I can do

the rest remains with the One

who has other requirements

we can only wrongly

guess at...

so the end has come and gone

as David Blue once aptly put it

we think everything rides

on some life and death choice

and when the moment passes

there we are

where we were

and where we are

and some celestial process grinds on

don't impose any closures

that is not your determination

your role is to see it to your end

and the One determines

from which posture you

continue

phil milito day blog