I want to die like the religious Elvis--


the one who sang of being changed

from "this creature that I am"


the one who shot out the Eye of the Devil

when it offended him


the one whose manna was a

fried peanut butter and banana sammich


I wanna die like a good old boy and have Dylan

write me up in one of his 'magpie' tunes


a figure as apocryphal as Mary Magdelene's apostleship

or Froggy goin' a-courtin'


I want to drain my life in distilled 'water of life'

then plead on my deathbed for forgiveness


we're all good ol' boys

expecting God's grace when all we'll get


is the unmerciful judgment

and our delusion helping us pass in peace


while a rock 'n' roll legacy feels the standard myths...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

whatever the substance

of our constitutions

it is the kinetic play


of circumstance that offers

the opportunity

to test those faculties of ours...


the outcome decides

whether we strut or crawl...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

I give myself too much to worry about...


none of these concerns are within my control

and any wisdom I may have truly attained

is diminished by its being ignored


the heart is unruly frightened and hungry

and cannot sustain its cherished beliefs

but oh how reality clears the mind


that has too much to worry about...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

how easy it is to groan in agony

in the comfort of one's delusion


a weak soul taking for granted

the grace and patience and gratitude for life

that sustains one's being


while crocodile tears streak the face

in vanity and neediness

for the desired effect of attention...


oh how sweet the abuse must taste to one

who knows not the difference between

wine and piss...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

one wishes to be admired for one's acumen

but will settle for being praised for one's vanity




Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

I wish I could join the ones who are happy

with material goods and easy comforts


but I was born with saturn on my back

and I see things hard and I see things rough


I wish I didn't know all I know

perhaps then I could pretend life is a grand adventure


but I set forth on a different track

one these happy callous droids will find themselves on


at some point in their journey...

in that I do not envy them


all happiness will come to pass

and if you are not overly attached to such trivialities


perhaps then all will learn our common root

the joys and terrors that shape us and make us human...



Content (c0 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

where are we going? why did we come?

I'd have stayed in heaven but the rent was too high


now I clog the by-ways of creation with the others and some

will go broke while some others get by


the Landlord is intractable He wants His due

and we'll have nothing left before He is through

unless His promise of accommodation is clear

provided it's something any of us can get near


we have nothing but futile pledges to fulfill

and have no idea whether we've paid them in full


where will we end up? we are wondering still

while our earthly estate traps us in it's unrelenting pull...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

wars in the heavens

planets opposing

while here on earth

in this divided country

half the summer was dry and hot


while the other half is warm and clammy


and the whole cosmos

wrenches through the mind and soul and heart

as above so below

God help us this poor way to go

with leave some standing

and fell all the others


and those left standing

will envy the fallen...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

some days I stand tall in the sunlight

dare the skies to come crashing down on me


other days I shiver and hide in the shadows

fearing every rise in the wind


were all the prophets this manic-depressive

praising their god and despairing of his world?


some days I stand clear in reality

and other days I cower in my delusions...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

a low moan in the soft afternoon


the shine of sweat on dark breasts

as they heave in acquiescence


to the power that channels heat

through the body like the sun pulls


busy fluids through the stem of the flower


in the dark orchard shadows

a low moan in tune with all the sounds


of the late July day


oh my head throbs in palpable vision

drawn into eyes like a vortex in the waters


and all the titivating wildness of this soft afternoon

fills out all awareness in the white noise


following the falling away of climax..



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

thunderheads mass in the Western sky


ominous before the hazy gold morning

a cottony saturated light to the East


one will give way to another

as we pace the street on our errands


awaiting whatever pounding

we will receive on avenues


modulating with each shift of light...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

the birds fluster around bread crumbs

on a humid summer morning


while mere feet from the sidewalk

the grass of a lawn shifts


as the snake sheds another skin

and advances...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

we quiver with fear

when not holding it at arm's length

from our illusions


but so much the worse

for those who believe

their arms are long enough


to do this for long

and call it hope...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

others come

using your mouth

to speak their words

which are your own


and in that you'll know

your talking is done

you'll sit back and watch

as these aspects


carry you on

your face

on every head

of the shoulders


carrying you

that's how the Fulfillment

will come


in the midst

of your span of time

your endeavors


taken up

by your replacements

and you will


hopefully be wise enough

to leave them to it

as they file around the time you filled

looking for their place...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. Al rights reserved.

don't be too free with what you think is goodness


what's good for you may not be good for whom

on which you'd bestow this bounty


or it may be rotten for you but you wouldn't see it

or admit it to yourself if you did


good intentions leading you know where...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All right reserved.

I hold my tongue unless I'm asked

my take on someone's need for another view


even then I'll wag it sparingly

because I'll tell it as it stands


careful because unless this person

truly wishes to have a different vantage point


I may end up played or dismissed

too honest to be trusted



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

you will not know until it's too late

how well you wound

how sharp your thoughtless screed


even the best intentioned

make the mistake of thinking

they know what they're about


and rankle when another's tears

reminds them they're wrong



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

careless talk

opens wounds

starts wars

deafens the heart


we all talk too much

and say too little

we should choose our words


now how to choose wisely...




Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

a curtain of wet plaster

hangs in the air


someone's nightmare of summer

presses down on us


while heavy leaves pull down their branches

to form an arch


over the passageways of wandering ghosts

drown in the vast crypt of the city


and moving without effort

through the stone channels


of what their interrupted lives have become...

dank as if dirt and rock and root and worm


titivate in the foul grave of air

around the fading spark of all awareness...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

if you do not understand the nature of fire


how it purges and burns out the dross of waste

while the seeds in the blackened ground

burst and are dispersed


if you do not comprehend this aspect of the process


how we all are carried forth in this blaze

and land in the fresh territory

of continued existence


if for whatever reason you do not get it


you have no way to go but back to earth

as if all that were left of you

is a pair of eyes weeping in the ashes


a legend to those who'll barely remember

the old dispensation and tales of tear-clouted dust...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

we're settling our business

we're finalizing legacies

of use to everyone else but us


we're ready for further adventures

we're placing ourselves on a line

and waiting on some starting gun


whose shot may hit us in the ass

but only doing enough stinging harm

to plunge us forward


it is not our will but Another's

that bids us to get going

if we want to live and speaking for myself


there's much in Life I could forego but I do want to live

I do want to live...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

you're alive as long as you're vital


as long as you have something to say

and a will to say it you're alive


as long as you move with deliberation

and not just to stand aside you're alive


as long as you don't stop dead in your tracks

and watch the oncoming traffic heading right at you


you're alive and will stay alive...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

I cannot win

I cannot get it right


but neither can anyone else

so we celebrate the failure


that is success

the renunciation that gains all


the kiss in the soft shadows of afternoon

the embrace that guards through the night


let the One demand impossible perfection

we find it in our cherished memories


the identities subsumed in the the actual happening

defining our acceptance of our loves


where what's lost is regained

where what's lost is won...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

when you've nothing left to hold on to

all your aspirations

hang in the balance

like a sacred burial ground


corpses rotting in the wind

while an invisible shaman

peers from the unknown world

sullen beyond sadness


serious beyond belief...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

the sky rumbles and shakes the walls

as I type this


another stroke of cataclysm

another huddling in the window


watching the fireworks

of the heavens


teach us

our apprehension and our awe yet again...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

pleasant dreams

are betrayed by awakening


like Shiva I'd sleep

and my dream would be

Life Itself


and like Shiva

my awakening

would end everything...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

cataclysms burst forth every day

killer and victim

trade places

minute by minute


and what can be done

but to stay the fuck out of the way?



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

which 'me' will you read on this blog today?


the imaginary one

who speaks through the literary personae

of Wraecca or Ghost or the Entity

and moans like a Rimbaud unfortunate enough

to have made it to the age of 59?

the nostalgic Beatnik who talks pussy and visions

of some pharmacological Paradise

while tapping at his keyboards in his comfortable den

with a sandwich and a cold glass of water

retreading old melodramas of romanticism

ridiculous in our brave new world of technology and alienation?


or the 'real' one

in love with his one partner but not blind to the parade

who tosses and turns each night worrying about age and money

who knows his litany of life mistakes inside out

and inside out and inside out ad nauseum (and won't bother to check the spelling)


who retired a month before our world economies collapsed

and finds himself as shuffling as in his youth?

who's older and wiser but discredited in these matters

enduring the 'tsk-tsking' of the obscenely fortunate

and the malicious fellow traveler equally

too sorry to even be sorry any longer?


or yet another 'me'

who stands aside and watches both and spills the beans about

either one who happens to gain ascendancy in my day's

particular mood

and knows that I am neither one and both of them at once

stands up for neither out of paralyzing ennui or bright eager

vital zest to be at the day while the day is happening

careless of either though he knows he should be

because he knows people will hear and see what they want


to hear and see and he's not psychic enough to know

just what will return at some point to bite him on the ass?


reader I'm curious to know also and when I stop caring

that will be it for this blog


be it received by who will receive it...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

sleeping off a dreadful drunk

he must wonder what street he's on


and what blasphemies he tossed at the sky

to blame it for his weaknesses


before he passed out in the sweaty heat

to agitations and dreamless half-consciousness


so my love isn't perfect enough

it'll have to do in spite of what God demands


but a large part of me is grateful

I'm not in his worn shoes


though pity is large also but sadly weak

and I may find that out


one of these lives if I'm not careful...either way

he is suffering...I will  suffer...from whatever God demands...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

some thing's going to deliver us

one way or another


it may not be to the Paradise

we imagine or want


but it will be exactly what it is

and we'll have created it for ourselves


with our acts our hungers as much as

as our petty imaginings


take care whom you bless

and whom you curse


either could show up with a key or with a lock

and you want no unseemly replays

if you have no idea what or why you're making

a certain choice


I worship ass and leg

as much as a repressed mook worships

an Old Testament idea of God

 and who's to say which of us is right


good and bad black and white is and is not

bedevil us all


and I don't care anymore

everything resembles its opposite


and my love is as tainted as the next fool who wishes

he could be forever 24 and up for endless nights

or drugs and sex

(itself another delusion that defined another generation)


little portals into the infinite open here and there

and those of us who catch them as they occur

see into that perspective and feels the shame

of a hundred summers spent in ignorant vigor

pulling the bottoms of bikinis off

their little girlfriends

the first intimations of life force pure and sweet

as any first taste of what it is to be human and alive


oh God what a farce life is

to live in full flush of love and desire

and to suffer for the expression

of love and desire


fuck it all

live and love as you will

if God is truly good you'll be forgiven any transgressions

in chasing those Divine ideals


and if not

then fuck Him and everyone else

at least you lived


at least you loved....



Content (c0 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All right reserved.

would I'd return

to my hungry ignorant youth

where in the name of spirituality

we thought our lusts could storm heaven

in a swamp of jizz and pussy juice


oh another delusion

another false way

where we could go and what we could do

without the strings attached to the Divine Imperative

the 'free' gift of Life with so many conditions

it's not worth the living


and so much for the huckster's claim of transcendence

every earthly way leads to an insurmountable brick wall


would I'd return to the fleeting instants

when I thought I'd find a way into a crack in that wall


and not be deluded...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

in easier moments I can accept Life as it is




but this is not one of those times


truly we must die to live again

but oh where the mercy? where the forgiveness? where the Love?



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

talk to me Lord

scumbag filth forever

who did all things

but blame us for all the imperfections


enlighten me


explain why this unbelievable hell

is the ground of our beseeching


come clean on why You made a plan so cruel and vicious

that the destruction of our souls

is mulch for some new Garden


and why Your free gift of life

has so many strings attached

You sound like a huckster

zeroing in on new rubes to fleece...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

everyone has a lost one

common violence claims

so many

and who but the One knows

if it was their time or not


some demented asshole goes off

then then lawyers-up  for some plea


I understand why anyone

would take this asshole and his lawyer

into some distant field on the

outskirts of town

and set them on fire

then walking away with hands in pockets

saying later I didn't see nothing


I was out walking my dog




you cannot deal with the psychotic

or with any kind of terrorist

whether fundamentalist screwball

or greed and power-mad CEO

without giving them the base destruction

the bullet to the head only they could understand

and maybe even sympathize with...


and if you think you're so evolved and above this behavior

well you better have your excuses ready


I hear God loves us all


master and slave

killer and victim alike


and for all my understanding of higher things

I also cannot stand this blessing the enemy

who holds a knife to my throat

then demands the metaphysical blessing

of a great chaos that attempts to resolve itself in the cosmos


the madmen run unhindered

and higher understanding sounds like a cruel joke

of the abstracted


and the eternal question: what is Right Action? becomes

yet another joke of the Divine

the God and His minions who weep with us

but raise no finger to intercede


everyone has a lost one

and where is the mercy of God then?

said Leonard and if you call me brother now


forgive me if I enquire


just according to who's plan?




and if the ones we've lost

come back to us in dreams

(dreams one hopes will be remembered upon awakening)

may they guide us to greater truer understanding


even if our lost ones are as in the dark

as we are here....




Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

morning comes

oh yet another one


latest in an imaginary series

that we invented from our


tiny spinning perspective

on this tiny earth


smallest citadel of ignorance

housing the only defenses


against the vast unknown

we uphold the vanity of our faith


while the fact of morning

ungrinds the light and again makes it whole



and night departs

oh yet again...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

vacant Sunday night

high beaded clouds

over the the darkened building

pocked with amber-lit windows


those like me

staying up late

nonplussed and tongue-tied

beneath the hazy night sky


summer

summer and an ocean of tears

washes again the stone of heart

and again


one sits in the window looking out

feeling everything and exhausted by it




Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

we live like there's no tomorrow

because there may not be


for any or all of us


see you at the earthquake nuclear blast

common heart attack


there are many ways to die

but only one way to truly live


and best of all it's the only thing you're doing now...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

no good denying  it felt good to be high

to walk the summer streets

with a hot young'un

and remember who I am


and even as the moment passed

like all the other moments it recalled

there are no assorted memories

but one permanent condition


of a warm afternoon

walking through the circus crowds

with each seeking his own living piece

of this consciousness


7th Avenue South one weekend

when everything happened all at once...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

the dream of a day has passed

but the dream itself lasts all of life


heart to heart soul to soul

she passes through yet again


and stays in the details of each memory

the invisible cohesion binding meaning to


the living moment we dream in our time

upon this earth


she is always there


the content of love in our heart's comprehension...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

some days you can see your whole life level

start to finish in its totality


it's meaning and it's purpose

one consciousness filling the moment


in which you're living...

and actually every second of every minute


of every hour of every day is exactly that happening

but it's only in certain lights of mind that you are aware of this...


all the fullness of your being

absorbed in the saturated light soaking the clouds in brilliance


the light on the avenue caught on the building facades

and contrasted by their cast shadows


and all the strong summer limbs of the young men and women

seeking the fullness of their eternal moment...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

have something close to rectify

your foolish capitulations


be it a drug a drink

a one-night friend


love is never wasted

unless it's hoarded in fear


and if you're not strong enough

to go that way at least forgive yourself


even if no one else will...




Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

after stagnant years wasted in futility


the minutes and hours grow busy and brighter

we have no control except over ourselves


and what was dust falling through fingers

is moist soil caking on our holding hands


so much depends on the changing weather

but when the clouds shred there is still


the sun in the day and overwhelming vasts of stars at night




Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

strange forces on the prowl


madmen do us onto petty deaths

to bolster their vicious delusions


from the Kings of the World

down to lone wolf gunmen exploding


faith morals integrity are strained

by the ravenings of the insane


set up your homesteading transition towns

but don't neglect a security force


a village in China once had no standing army

welcomed and cared for all


and were wiped out of existence

by their less charitable neighbors


you can love others

but you can't make them love you


the Earth will never support Utopias

it is only for us


to pass through without losing

the grace our souls and hearts need to sustain against the


strange forces ever on the prowl in heaven and on earth

others are awake in this white night

I can feel them move in my blood

I can hear their thoughts echoing in my ears


they too are confused

they too find truth hard

and abjure it even if

it's the lies that kill us


oh others are awake now just before

this vacant dawn


sludge gray and damp as plaster

while I turn on their movements...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

can't sleep

so much pressure

running out of money

running out of time

no one will have me

there's no work around

at least in this country


tossing and turning

lattice of streetlamp light

bars across the ceiling

trying to stay faithful

trying to live with grace

trying not to despair

but good at playing the fool


my imaginings

will not settle down

rip my eyelids off

leave me convulsing

can't recall my higher nature

if heaven is here

hell is too




Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

when you block the way

and fiddle with the over-all design

of the channels you surge through

in your velocity of quest


that is when pain teaches you

a price for meddling with your forward motion

and the choice of detour or fruitless tangent

is revealed in the obstacles of consequence


but be somewhat cheered to know

continuing movement will change circumstance

because it is only when you stall and stop short

that you sink down into the ground of your defeat...


dimming eyes staring up out of

the vanishing dust of a disappearing world...




Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

I sweep the husks and shells away

of previous creations that have served their terms


and stand a new creature gleaming in spray

flushing the world clean--a new alloy...




Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

people think their lives and all lives

are deep complex and hurtful...


maybe in the process they seem to be

but in the overview


every piece fits

as simply as the gears of a grandfather clock


disrupted only by our attempts

to disturb the pendulum's even swing...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

what time is it in eternity?


throw away your watches and your iPhones

and look around you...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

at the height of summer

the first intimations of autumn...


the dried and yellowed leaves

of the tree's undergrowth


beginning to carpet the streets...





Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

the grand notions have faded away

their ridiculous postures an embarrassment to pride


and in their place come the simplest truths

that turn our heads in shame


vanity is a mirror...true...but a fun-house mirror at that

so we find with every bump into a reflection


what sweet relief after all the stumbling

to lock the door of your room and look out the open window


at the ordinary world...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

there are no secrets in her eyes


her depths are unplumbable

at best and at worst


she misses no move you make


no secrets in her eyes

no mercy either

and her only recourse to falsity


is to turn away forever...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

love has wings

fear has knees and hands


how do you want to get to where

your desire draws you?




Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

remember where you came from...

it will show you clearly where you're going to wind up...




Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

I know that I'm attached to the world

as much as I'm attached to the aether


and in my release from this worn-out flesh

one attachment will snap and the other will draw me in


don't even talk of higher dimensions

my mind would only spin with cosmic vertigo


I'm dizzy enough with fear and excitement

right here where I am...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

I cannot stop it

these words pour out of me

grabbing at a last chance of

earthly immortality


though I know it's foolish

though I know it's false

I fear becoming more myself

on the other side of this life


and seeing how small and pitiful

my earthly identity was

as if more accomplishment would correct

something already wrong


I talk a good game concerning eternity but that's it

I cannot stop it...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

love never hurries

it's always right on time...


and there you have

the bitterness of those who look elsewhere


for their love and ignore the time

and wonder why everyone is happy but them


try telling them no one's fully happy

some barely find love in time


but if all they see is a mirror

then they cannot know they are blind


if love shatters that mirror and shows them

where they are


who can say how they'll handle knowing

their love is right on time...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

no bragging rights here

we all hang on the slenderest of threads


amaze your friends

confound your enemies


none of them wish you well

but all of them are damned if they're going to let


you get the better of them

by going your own way and succeeding


in swinging that thread

in your own direction...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

it takes an earthly lifetime

to realize no one's story is different

than anyone else's...


don't be dazzled by the surface manifestations

your bubble of a world is for you

what the previous bubbles were to your forefathers


oh the story of earth is always the same

and we either die off with it

or earn our own transcendence...


and either way the pain of leaving

all we thought we loved

is just the yearning of ignorant hearts


who will learn (if these hearts let it be)

that all there is is never lost...




Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

you needn't worry

no one will remember

your outrageous stunts

or your treacherous lusts

without prompting of

some kind


you'll be an image that faded

until it was caught and put

in some digitized file

and those who see it

with memory jogged

or young'uns who never knew

the tiny legend first-hand


will see what you've become

and slap their foreheads


and you'll sadly agree


what the hell happened to you?



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

humor is gone

irony is lost

if I gave you nothing

what would it a cost?

Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

good bye to your little crew

catty in your backyards

queens of the PTA

serviced by generations of trite milkmen

and gas readers

while hubby diddles his secretary

and glad hands her husband


holy shit

it's the 21st century in America

and this bullshit still goes on?

how sad how unbelievably trite

how unconscious the tragedy

of Mass Minds sleepwalking in their 3 AM sweats

oh goodbye to you and your little crew...




Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

I am not responsible

for what you can't understand

or what you can't accept


and I will not tolerate

your manipulative demands

to reign over everyone


as if your rights alone

mattered over everyone else's


go terrorize weaklings

go slander your betters

in your gang of houseproud pusses


you know enough to stay in bounds

because your vanishing suburbs

the city cats will shred a town mouse like you...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

I will see you in heaven

I will see you in hell

I will see you believing

there's no confession to tell


But I confess strongly

whatever reality's true

either we think rightly or wrongly

where you will be I will be too





Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

the pettiness of poseurs


how tiresome to endure


every jackass feels free to bray

while I can no longer tolerate what they say


they challenge my word and I play them off

since of vanity they never have enough


I couldn't care less what anyone (even myself) spews

let them rave while I tune into silence for good news




Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

the conduct of our lives

is always in our hands


that's why they are

always so dirty




Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

I will miss nothing when I go...

I never loved the world's pettiness

I never thought pain and suffering

taught us anything except pain and suffering


or that goodness and healing could be

so vainly self-serving

we miss each mark by a mile or more and


I will miss nothing when I go...




Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

treacherous friends should be the first to go--


the ones who tell you how awesome you are

and how much they love you

but never keep in touch--

expect you to always make the first move to get together--

then if you do

you hang with them and are afraid to leave the room

for fear of what snarky shit they'll say behind your back--


some of these will even tell you how much they care

but won't visit you in hospital

or even send a card or make a call

when a loved one of yours passes on--


and then the self-serving excuse--

oh I'm sorry but I had so much going on--


once in a broken down moment she said I haven't been a very good friend--

I'm sorry I didn't say outright

no--you haven't been--but no matter now


her world is safe

she'll ride her fears to their ends

and no one she knows will have an honest thing to say

about her either--





Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

though the heavens rage and Divine Will storms

I stand limber while behind me forms


a line of people as open as me

to taking their chances on whatever will be


there's never a wait to see what we'll find

here is the spot and now is the time


on our own sins and sorrows penance is agreed

we've had what we want now we'll take what we need




Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

a day shot in wordless wonder

resumes sent as the sun goes under

the lip of the horizon


and who knows what the response

and on what hope the world will pounce

as limited hope trudges on


...but about that wordless wonder...oh

it's really truly nothing you know

just another way to glide forward


while keeping clear of interference

while keeping focus in cunning and ears open to silence

for an answer waiting to be heard


while a moment of introspection comes back...

...wait...hold on!...what was that?




Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

the heavens are acting up

solar flares

retrograde planets

pick any excuse you like


any short circuit in the sky

leads to a fire down below

here on earth

to no one's mirth...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

amazing how much pain and despair

will either crush you flat and fling you aside


or empower you to energize all focus and will

to rise up defiant of all consequence and forge a way forward--


few can stand to face their reckoning--

admit it was on them to do well and  so on them is their failure--


but how fewer are humble enough to acknowledge their strength

without preening and boasting and making more of themselves than they are?


excuse or explanation--neither will suffice--

result tells the tale--and if it match intent


then so much the better--but tell no one everything you know--

let each find what is best for themselves--


then the world itself will see whether all shame is yours

or all glory...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

my chapel-crank blood boils to evaporation


all of us old-school prophets raging out of the desert

are as foolish as frumps at a church picnic


for the Apocalypse (literally a revelation) has come...

and what we've called 'God' we find is a living active force


that permeates all life...

and this is why all liability is on us


we channel these force by our own inclinations

and if we do right it will grow and affirm


and if we do wrong it will disturb and obstruct others

and pull us into all own 'hells'...


so I am through counting my own errors

they extend beyond the reach of my consciousness


I'm as guilty as the next one for perpetrating evil

I took to be the doing of good


and I stand with everyone waiting for what reckoning

will affirm or deny and leave us to continue


atonement repentance what amendment of our ways

to bring us in line with the process that resolves itself


in the knowledge of ourselves that transcends all consequence...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved. (Egoless? Maybe not;
but responsible we must be.)

even if all the crystal balls lined up end to end

predicted a desired outcome or warned of an imminent defeat


it still would not be as precise as knowing

an enormous shit would make your hat slide over your ears...




Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

I've heard my true Name

in a dream this morning


forgotten upon awakening of course

so I did not know who I was


but only knew that I was...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved. (Egoless, ain't I?)

pity the mystics

who had illuminations

who saw through a rend in the veil

whose eyes were blinded by light


pity the mystics

who turned on to a silent sound

who heard music in the aether

whose ears were dulled to the earth's cacophony


pity these transported

while standing in their skins

you only know to call them crazy

because after their experience


they are wrathful and peaceful by turns

and have become useless to the earth...




Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

now do I believe nothing is possible

now do I believe every last card has been played


broke and useless

the indistinct summer light


coats a street like dust on an abandoned car

and all I can think in this afternoon heat


is what I am still doing in this skin alive

when I can do no more


those of the ordinary common wisdom

will say I'm not finished yet


or I still have a purpose to fulfill...

well what is it? more failure? sustaining this last crash of loss?


and how much more defeat must I endure

before I am shown the mercy of release?




Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

there is nothing left behind me

and everything spread out before me


but my past is my whole content

and my future a gamble I cannot afford


go for broke! you say?

I'd say it's easy for you to talk


but we're all at the same monte table

and the street supports all endeavor


even if the dealer's crooked

even if the deck is stacked


it's the only thing on offer

and the only shot left to take...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

even if your entire world comes crashing down

around your ankles


still a new way opens

and still the decision of whether you want to bother...




Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

the ravenings of lunatics

has come to define our discourse


as has been noted in scripture

and the the lunatics themselves


so proud in their extremism

so vindicated in their rage


here's to what remnant left standing...


you can have it 'til you're sick of it




C ontent (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

it only takes one betrayal

to turn a friend into an enemy...





Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

you never really overcome

the errors of your ways


no wrong can be righted

every mistake is a "fatal" one


but in that long "killing"

we call daily life


you know nothing is really finished

and every new chance is a boon


as long as you don't repeat

the error of your ways...




Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

there is nothing here I can claim

nothing that is mine

nothing I want

nothing


and out of this...what?

the same mess that broke me down?

the same self that acknowledged its error

to no forgiveness?


I am the still the entity I am

but who is that

in this new dispensation

this new obstacle course for the soul?


the veil draws shut and reality fades like a dream

and now what?



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

dark thins out

lighter

lighter

a blur

reintroduces...


me



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

...revo dessorc evah I...




Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

...light...

nothing but light...

so bright

it is darkness to my eyes...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

now is my time

to as they say "face the music"


(oh cliche hoedown indeed

how we trivialize the horrors and wonders


of the creation and our responsibilities in it)

now if I only knew how to dance


flat-footed soul (oh puns galore too)

if I weren't hurting so much


I'd enjoy the laugh and spin across the marble

in the ballroom of the aether


it is only my ear that saves me

those Spheres filling the being with their silent "sound"


and all these useless words to describe what's beyond description

my time to dissolve as the Secret Chord resolves...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

I'm sorry to upset anyone

but this is how it goes


your soul will speed up

as your body slows


or so it will appear

as all Life marks its equivocal time


just when you think your rescue's near

that's when you'll trip over the line


I only speak of how it seems

I found out for myself


and how it goes for you

well...you'll find out soon enough...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

sorry doesn't matter

neither do amends


you pay your price whatever

from birth 'til your life ends


and afterward

well...who can really speak of afterward


as long as they are in flesh?

your business is here and now


where sorry doesn't matter

and neither do amends...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

you will know when you are done

when nothing of the past passes away from you

and all that is to come is unforthcoming


and you cannot move in any direction

because your feet feel as if they have been

cemented into the ground


and you watch bug-eyed (in serenity or terror

according to how you have lived your life)

as a wall of smoke advances on you


and you wait for its passage to carry you beyond your body

and when your waiting is over then

you will know that you are done




Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

and so a day and a day and a day passes

and nothing happens

or everything happens


and a day and a day and a day passes

and what has happened is no longer change

but only the "always as it is"


leading up to a wall we will passes through like smoke

as a day and a day and a day passes...




Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

Life will out

no matter what we do


if we're in line and with its movement

we're be alright


if not we'll rage

and be dragged into graves by souls who watch worms


chew into their former skins

and still feel the tearing of their chewing


God damn it God damn it God damn it

God may be nothing but pure spiteful unforgiving Vengeance


but haven't we yet learning

to go beyond our karmic misery


we have to Brake The Law

in order to Become The Law?


Life will out

and nothing you do will matter


unless you go beyond Life

do what you know is right and say


fuck it!



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. all rights reserved.

I don't know what the hell you're worried about--


the story never finishes

any end is only a sop to limited worldly consciousness


you have more lives to go

before you're free and clear of creation


how many times do you have to be told?

the One does not wish you to perish


but you'll do every righteous thing to make

sure that you do


you fools you miserable greedy shitheads

wake up to yourself


because all you're doing

is holding everyone else back


nothing you've done so fart matters...let go...and let what must be happen...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

ghosts of old come dithering out

claiming their complaint's urge


what the fuck is wrong with you all?

you're free you have another chance


are you coning to waste a clean slate

to stain with your pathetic complaint?


you at the very least have a chance

to make your enemies eat shit


and even then you'll come through...

they still dealing with the mess of hell


you've moved beyond...

you petty foolish stupid souls


do you still not know the freedom that is only freedom

if you avail yourself of it?




Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

the next announcement

will be only for those with ears to hear


all that the rest of us will hear of it is thunder

and we'll feel the solid ground rumble and liquify


as the Ineffable clears a mere throat

to speak that dreaded...that holy Word...


Love...


see the rest of you at the back of the line

bringing up the rear as we've always done...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

even those who love me will not miss me


they have grudges held from previous lives

and those who've hated me hated purely


and for them my happiness dwindles

since we all get what's coming to us


as given "trouble comes to all but woe

to the one who brings it" so I find


so they'll find it is so it is so...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

I could be anywhere tomorrow

even if I'm still here


location and distance mean nothing

any inn along the way is accommodating


and any one will make you happy

when you've tasted the fruit of dying


and found it good...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

nothing hurts

but nothing heals


the limbo of his life is total


to his wound there is no loving God

but the forces of life


in which he stumbled


and fell where he lies now

painless and succumbed to his final cure




Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

the self-hating mystic is reduced

to broken penitent


and every road he thought led to heaven

was a thorny short cut to hell


now whether he was wraecca or Prodigal Son

the vacant sky hangs over him


like a descending body bag

and he is now is the content of his emptiness




Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

I wish I could say

I'll meet you on God's Golden Shore


but what mortal knows where that's at

or what it really is?


I am with you all

in this apocalyptic clean-sweep


where we all end up

is where each of us will need to be


O Ineffable One

if You don't guide us


at least follow our progress

to whatever end


let peace prevail

let the processes finally cease



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

you've had enough?

this is just the start


wait until everything you love is torn away

then you'll deal with the wolves


who are your brothers...




Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. all rights reserved.

even if this is my last summer

in this skin and in this life


it is the same summer

in which I've always lived--


all these moments

the content of


the Only Time

there is--



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

a relief


in the form

of a blank moment


and this sad

statement


after it has passed...





Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

whether it's the fapping visionaries
who mistake their pathology for mysticism

or the deluded neurotics hiding behind
some romantic personae

driving them defiant to an early spectacular grave
or gutless after too many gray sickening mornings

to grow cynical savage and safe
in the long night of their aging--

for either one bitterness is so unbecoming of those
of their own broken vow to transcend

and such a strain to the wheeling stars that front
the vasts we cannot begin to imagine--

yet a life was lived and time dwindles
and both vision and hallucination eviscerate the soul

whether it be San Juan de la Cruz or Rimbaud--
jaded played Bauderlaire or even drunken bigoted Ti-Jean--

we all follow the path--lit with anchorites--and such
is the despair of the at most true Initiates

and at least poets maudits when they awaken from their trances
and find themselves back in the Hell that is

the daily ordinary world



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

where I finally end up

will be determined

by my memory

of where I started from...


we all go out

the way we came in...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

we are agreed

no more clinging to the world


let us float above it

loving each other


until gravity asserts...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

it might be better not to care

too much

but oh the deceit when love

cares not enough




Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

lone wolf stalking
the utmost rim
of the Outer Darkness

turning away
spooked of the Void
and saunters off

for the blood of his prey



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

ass I did not kiss

will turn on mine to kick


all we load on each other is sick

and there is the ill of our Oneness





Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

in one's own silence

an answer is revealed


which begs the question

occasioned by the silence




Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

the penitent has

one last sin to overcome--

the vanity inherent

in his beseeching--


while life after life teaches him

he already lives in grace


and need only forgive and forget himself

to be absolutely with it






Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

how much more can I complain

of worn-out love and withered brain

I strove to live on invisible light

and wound up covered in sin and night


how much more beseeching to endure

the fate for which grace is no cure?

as much as I want and as little as I need

done is done where penance and punishment agreed




Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

now you can lie down

and savor your defeat

grow bitterly relieved

in the sweltering heat


life is never

as we imagine it to be

and it is only in shock of clarity

that we begin to see


all we thought we did for good

turned out to be all wrong

and to accept this heavy fact

requires a spirit that is strong


anyone who says otherwise

has yet to taste this grief

anyone who accedes will know

the shaking of his belief


and keep his counsel

unless the hurting ask for mercy

then you can rise up again

and heal this common misery


for them for you for all who ache

only this one cure will take...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

through the curtain

across the divide

friends and family wait

on the other side


for our arrival

and in some dreams assure us

to take our time

there's no need to rush


and there's no need to fear

we are All and always here...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

as I was saying the other day

nice day for a thunderstorm


and one came

a downpour that flooded the sewers


and after half an hour went

and damn it


if it didn't cool things down at all

as I was saying the other day


this is what

the front porch of Hell must be like...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

if everyone is fair game

in this historic meltdown of the era


then it's nice to at least know the score

even if it's even money


or 6 to 5 against at the very best...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

everyone is fair game these days

everyone better keep their heads low


for the ravening hordes are out for blood

unmindful of their own mortality


stricken with fear and hatred

at the passing of their imagined supremacy


the same ravenings whether in their little bumpkin towns

or their gleaming masterful mega cities


the end of all they know is here and now

and all they can do is unleash their appetites


their delusions their vanities their lusts

after if they by brute force could stay change


each side attacks the other

like a beast looking in a mirror and attacking itself


thinking it another animal

and not a single one exempt not a single one of them victorious


brother against brother friend against friend lover against lover

and the same end of it has never been any different


and who will live to repeat the worn perpetual tale?

the scattering surviving remnant that will rebuild


the societies on the unchanging human nature

and this trite warning will be repeated as long as Man on earth endures


everyone is fair game ever


everyone has their head hanging low



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

woe to the unfortunates
who doubt mercy
and see no grace in creation

woe to them
because they may be right

there is no sign or sense
of transcendence

but to be subsumed
into the element from which
your earthly body issued

woe to them
woe to any of us for whom death
is the only reason to live




Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

I tire of the lofty brotherhood

to which our high estate aspires

I do not feel inclined to the good

that in human madness expires


but in our common rut

I like all the others behave

awaiting the unkindly kick in the gut

that sends us to our common grave




Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

no God to blame

no karma too

nor anyone else

who'd dealings with you


your wound's your own

no one else's fault

and it's your own sorrow

rubbing in salt...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

I'm going to have to find a new language

a new vocabulary
maybe a whole new medium

because the ashes from which I speak
only tell of worn out realities that were history

a second after they happened

so with every artist
follow my finger see where the cock

or the moist mound is expanding
and follow that direction

they point out where you've ever been

they show the way to the next evolutionary leap
here's what I have to say about it

er...#8&^%@"}



content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.