Bold ambition Corey! I'm with you on the aspiration of memorizing some poems. I think I'll start with something much shorter!!! Hell, I can rarely memorize the simple poems I write!
You really love to entwine "politics" in almost every response, don't you? The Adam and Eve story, if deciphered through the lens of metaphor, is a beautiful and quite telling myth that gets to the root of the human condition. As Frithjof Schuon reminded us:
“The story of Adam and Eve may clash with a certain need for logic, but we bear it deeply within ourselves…the sacred truth is part of our soul; hence the archetypal symbol is to be found in the deepest layer of our consciousness or of our being…it is because in “fallen”—hence exteriorized—man there is a veil separating him from the inner light while nonetheless allowing a glimmer to filter through.”
Early 1987, in my 45th year, a couple of angels known in the Bible came one night and woke me up and told me what I had asked God for, to be used for human service, would push me to my limits, but they were going to give it to me, and then I was jolted by three bolts of spiritual lightning, which left me shaking and sweating and they dissolved back into where they had come from. The changes came slowly, in phases. Lots of beauty, lots more ugly. Some of it so difficult, I prayed to die and sometimes plotted my suicide, or often plotted it, and something stayed my hand. After I emerged from the worst of it, 1998, which was horrible beyond imagining, I was slowly sent back into the world, mostly in my root religion, Christianity, and I spent a good while there disturbing that culture's status quo. and the Capitalism religion's status quo. I was then sent into politics, which I despised. I ended up running ten times for local office, and that was yet another baptism in human miasm, kinda rhymes with raw sewage. Along the way, lots of poems leaped out of me, which I realized, as. they came, charged my life path. I seemed to be taking dictation, when the verses came, and that was how much of the other writings went, also - non-fiction, fiction, stranger than fiction.
Humanity's problem, other than being infiltrated by the Devil, Evil, or whatever anyone cares to call The Dark Side of the Force, is the species' feminine is fractured, and because of that, the species is devolving in the soul sense. Some people are evolving, but not the species. In the soul sense, it's every man and woman, boy and girl, for themselves. It's a wonderful playing field, but not many people play it well, because most people are so programmed, brainwashed, etc., they simply cannot play it well, I was like that for 45 yearse and still would be, I imagine, or I would be dead, but for the two angels and what all they took me through. I don't attend church, and don't belong to any religion, but I know Christendom well, because that's where I grew up, and that's where I was sent back in to work for a good while. What is so important about your Poetic Outlaws is the constant theme and struggle to be who you really are, no matter what the rest of the world thinks. As people age, in the soul sense, the maturity sense, some do it quickly, others, like me, take a lot longer, they have things to offer that might help some people, but the species, in the main, is not open to such help.
I don't care for the religious left, either. They remind me of the Fukawi tribe of some lore, said to be forever getting lost and gathering in a circle and sitting down and holding hands and closing their eyes and chanting, "Where the fuck are we? Where the fuck are we?" But they don't remind me of Adolph Hitler, the American right and its draftdoer leader they say God sent to them, Donald The Great, do.
Heard. But I was thinking of some of the people I knew in my youth, who were maybe thirty years older than me, who had been involved in supporting civil rights and protesting Vietnam. My wife is in seminary to become a chaplain and lo, there are the beginnings of a resurgence there.
Also, not knowing where you are is a part of losing your way in order to find a better way, no?
Agreed, I think we have to get totally lost and desperate to have a chance of moving forward, but I also thknk we have to know we are lost and desperate, and we need a bit of help from what I was raised to call God to do it. I'm 81. A literal miracle saved me from the Vietnam war draft. It was another 20 years before two angels showed up and started trying to work with me. I don't know you or your wife, but I commend anyone who sees things aren't working so good (or not much at all), and they see the left and the right are complicit in it, and they sincerely wish to go down their own soul's path, instead of being part of a herd, which historically is not very tuned in. Jesus in the Gospels, and his close followers, modeled what it's like to leave the herd. It was not easy. it was dangerous. I don't think that's changed in 2000 years.
Leaving the herd is good. But maybe eventually one has to circle back to help the herd break free from itself? That’s when you might end up hanging from a cross, or shot down on a hotel balcony.
eaving the herd is a state of mind and being, which Jesus demonstrated in the Gospels, and some of his disciples followed suit, as did some of the later saints in Christendom, starting with Saul of Tarsus, who became Paul. Most of them were killed. As I explained to Eric in his and my back and forth under this Bob Dylan post, Dylan certainly left the herd,
After the angels had their ways with me for a good while, I was sent back into Christendom to stir the pot, but I found very few Christians who cared what I had to say, and it's still that way today. Several times, Christians told me, after the Bible was written, God stopped talking to people. I viewed that as ignorant, at best, nuts and even demonic at worst. But it was a nice propaganda for only people who read the Bible and go to church regularly get to heaven in the afterlife.
I wrote quite a few books about experiences and perspectives I credit the angels, which are free reads at an internet library, archive.org - non-fiction, fiction, stranger than fiction, and verse, nothing like what it taught in churche.
I also do a podcast, the first 30, or so, episodes, are at a YouTube channel called The Redneck Mystic Lawyer Podcast, and the next 30, or so, episodes are at a YouTube channel called The Redneck Mystic Podcast. Torrent platform users access the podcasts through that system. Averaging about 100, 000 complete watches per episode worldwide, among Torrent users,. Youtube users not very interested. Free, no ads, no soliciting.
Early on, the podcast got a good plug form Ivan Stang, of J.R. Bob Dobbs and The Church of the Subgenius, about when.I learnedl from young street people on Pearl Street Mall, when I lived in Boulder, Colorado the early 1990s, not yet having a clue how many years I would be homeless, and be plunged to dealing with local government and law enforcement and churches regarding homeless people. It was nearly impossible for me to get them to admit Jesus was homeless. :-)
What a gem! Blue skies in Maine today after two dull days of truly cold rain that wrecked the trees gaudy carnival of agony and gorgeous cries of Ali Baba jewelry, to which winter and I will whisper, of course, Open Sesame! I must arise and go now, to wander through our cold old house, turn up the heat and boil water for golden coffee, sweetened with chocolate and cardamon, soured by turmeric and a quarter tsp of geriatric instant--um, generic instant!--mediated by a level tsp of ground flaxseed, skin still pins and needles with morning cold, head swirling, all these years, with Dylan Thomas! Thank all you Poetic Outlaws, Nikki, Corey, Kimia, Jeff, Donna, Linda, and those who also count though I can't see, while still all swirl with pins, and needles.
So much in one poem. A lifetime of emotion. Overflowing. Place reflects to us so much over time and timelessness. About to post stunning autumn images from my evening walk last night...find them @zihuawriter on Instagram. Dozens of poems within them, to follow. And, oh! The barn. The barn.
Walking is the writer's pilgrimage, always, back to self.
Awesome...I could smell the scent of October’s blood..and feel them crackle underfoot.
I've been wanting to start memorizing poems, to try to, anyway. I think I'll start with this one.
Bold ambition Corey! I'm with you on the aspiration of memorizing some poems. I think I'll start with something much shorter!!! Hell, I can rarely memorize the simple poems I write!
Haha. I’d be okay with that. I already annoy people anyway.
Miles to go before you eat!
Having recently observed my 72nd October birthday, I appreciate this Dylan Thomas poem.
"Eve's Answer"
April Fool
Vexing Truth
Life is Poetry,
Poetry is Life,
There's no more to say,
but that would
make God
a really dull boy,
now wouldn't it,
Eve?
So, Eve,
What say you?
After all,
You have been,
still are, blamed,
for everything that went wrong with
hu - MAN - i - ty.
Well, do you really want to hear
what I gotta say?
Is this one of those
be careful what you ask for
pregnancies?
Well, is it?
Probably, but say
what you wish -
I s'pect you need
to be heard.
Heard?
Funny you mention ears.
Yes, ears.
Such important receptacles.
Yet filled with concrete,
shit, propaganda, beliefs,
certainties, well,
let's not leave out
SUPERSTITION
and
RELIGION,
should we?
By the way,
where do ya
suppose
God came from?
Or, out of?
And,
why do ya s'pose
I made Eve
in my own
IMAGE?
'Cause Adam was
so bored and dull -
so ... predictable
He was BORING!!!
the shit outta me!!!
That's why.
Now
Shusssssh -
Don't go round quoting me on
any of that -
I've had quite enough of
the religious right
ta last me
the rest of forever
You really love to entwine "politics" in almost every response, don't you? The Adam and Eve story, if deciphered through the lens of metaphor, is a beautiful and quite telling myth that gets to the root of the human condition. As Frithjof Schuon reminded us:
“The story of Adam and Eve may clash with a certain need for logic, but we bear it deeply within ourselves…the sacred truth is part of our soul; hence the archetypal symbol is to be found in the deepest layer of our consciousness or of our being…it is because in “fallen”—hence exteriorized—man there is a veil separating him from the inner light while nonetheless allowing a glimmer to filter through.”
Early 1987, in my 45th year, a couple of angels known in the Bible came one night and woke me up and told me what I had asked God for, to be used for human service, would push me to my limits, but they were going to give it to me, and then I was jolted by three bolts of spiritual lightning, which left me shaking and sweating and they dissolved back into where they had come from. The changes came slowly, in phases. Lots of beauty, lots more ugly. Some of it so difficult, I prayed to die and sometimes plotted my suicide, or often plotted it, and something stayed my hand. After I emerged from the worst of it, 1998, which was horrible beyond imagining, I was slowly sent back into the world, mostly in my root religion, Christianity, and I spent a good while there disturbing that culture's status quo. and the Capitalism religion's status quo. I was then sent into politics, which I despised. I ended up running ten times for local office, and that was yet another baptism in human miasm, kinda rhymes with raw sewage. Along the way, lots of poems leaped out of me, which I realized, as. they came, charged my life path. I seemed to be taking dictation, when the verses came, and that was how much of the other writings went, also - non-fiction, fiction, stranger than fiction.
Humanity's problem, other than being infiltrated by the Devil, Evil, or whatever anyone cares to call The Dark Side of the Force, is the species' feminine is fractured, and because of that, the species is devolving in the soul sense. Some people are evolving, but not the species. In the soul sense, it's every man and woman, boy and girl, for themselves. It's a wonderful playing field, but not many people play it well, because most people are so programmed, brainwashed, etc., they simply cannot play it well, I was like that for 45 yearse and still would be, I imagine, or I would be dead, but for the two angels and what all they took me through. I don't attend church, and don't belong to any religion, but I know Christendom well, because that's where I grew up, and that's where I was sent back in to work for a good while. What is so important about your Poetic Outlaws is the constant theme and struggle to be who you really are, no matter what the rest of the world thinks. As people age, in the soul sense, the maturity sense, some do it quickly, others, like me, take a lot longer, they have things to offer that might help some people, but the species, in the main, is not open to such help.
Are we fallen, until we decide to stand up for one another?
The religious left may well rise again.
I don't care for the religious left, either. They remind me of the Fukawi tribe of some lore, said to be forever getting lost and gathering in a circle and sitting down and holding hands and closing their eyes and chanting, "Where the fuck are we? Where the fuck are we?" But they don't remind me of Adolph Hitler, the American right and its draftdoer leader they say God sent to them, Donald The Great, do.
Heard. But I was thinking of some of the people I knew in my youth, who were maybe thirty years older than me, who had been involved in supporting civil rights and protesting Vietnam. My wife is in seminary to become a chaplain and lo, there are the beginnings of a resurgence there.
Also, not knowing where you are is a part of losing your way in order to find a better way, no?
Agreed, I think we have to get totally lost and desperate to have a chance of moving forward, but I also thknk we have to know we are lost and desperate, and we need a bit of help from what I was raised to call God to do it. I'm 81. A literal miracle saved me from the Vietnam war draft. It was another 20 years before two angels showed up and started trying to work with me. I don't know you or your wife, but I commend anyone who sees things aren't working so good (or not much at all), and they see the left and the right are complicit in it, and they sincerely wish to go down their own soul's path, instead of being part of a herd, which historically is not very tuned in. Jesus in the Gospels, and his close followers, modeled what it's like to leave the herd. It was not easy. it was dangerous. I don't think that's changed in 2000 years.
Leaving the herd is good. But maybe eventually one has to circle back to help the herd break free from itself? That’s when you might end up hanging from a cross, or shot down on a hotel balcony.
Thank you for your inspiring words, sir!!
eaving the herd is a state of mind and being, which Jesus demonstrated in the Gospels, and some of his disciples followed suit, as did some of the later saints in Christendom, starting with Saul of Tarsus, who became Paul. Most of them were killed. As I explained to Eric in his and my back and forth under this Bob Dylan post, Dylan certainly left the herd,
After the angels had their ways with me for a good while, I was sent back into Christendom to stir the pot, but I found very few Christians who cared what I had to say, and it's still that way today. Several times, Christians told me, after the Bible was written, God stopped talking to people. I viewed that as ignorant, at best, nuts and even demonic at worst. But it was a nice propaganda for only people who read the Bible and go to church regularly get to heaven in the afterlife.
I wrote quite a few books about experiences and perspectives I credit the angels, which are free reads at an internet library, archive.org - non-fiction, fiction, stranger than fiction, and verse, nothing like what it taught in churche.
I also do a podcast, the first 30, or so, episodes, are at a YouTube channel called The Redneck Mystic Lawyer Podcast, and the next 30, or so, episodes are at a YouTube channel called The Redneck Mystic Podcast. Torrent platform users access the podcasts through that system. Averaging about 100, 000 complete watches per episode worldwide, among Torrent users,. Youtube users not very interested. Free, no ads, no soliciting.
Early on, the podcast got a good plug form Ivan Stang, of J.R. Bob Dobbs and The Church of the Subgenius, about when.I learnedl from young street people on Pearl Street Mall, when I lived in Boulder, Colorado the early 1990s, not yet having a clue how many years I would be homeless, and be plunged to dealing with local government and law enforcement and churches regarding homeless people. It was nearly impossible for me to get them to admit Jesus was homeless. :-)
"In a shower of all my days"
I think how that line could be used in so many different ways. Amazing, thank you.
I loved this poem as a kid and I love it still.
.. made my thoughts & being .. sing 🦎🏴☠️
That's a big thing, full with a big stride, lots of ambition. A real blast to read.
Full of big stride - love that!
This is so beautiful, and so necessary right now. Thank you!
What a gem! Blue skies in Maine today after two dull days of truly cold rain that wrecked the trees gaudy carnival of agony and gorgeous cries of Ali Baba jewelry, to which winter and I will whisper, of course, Open Sesame! I must arise and go now, to wander through our cold old house, turn up the heat and boil water for golden coffee, sweetened with chocolate and cardamon, soured by turmeric and a quarter tsp of geriatric instant--um, generic instant!--mediated by a level tsp of ground flaxseed, skin still pins and needles with morning cold, head swirling, all these years, with Dylan Thomas! Thank all you Poetic Outlaws, Nikki, Corey, Kimia, Jeff, Donna, Linda, and those who also count though I can't see, while still all swirl with pins, and needles.
So much in one poem. A lifetime of emotion. Overflowing. Place reflects to us so much over time and timelessness. About to post stunning autumn images from my evening walk last night...find them @zihuawriter on Instagram. Dozens of poems within them, to follow. And, oh! The barn. The barn.
Walking is the writer's pilgrimage, always, back to self.
I would like to feature this poem on my local poetry group FB page. Could I credit "Poetic Outlaws" Substack as the source?
Of course. Thank you.
(Hey Erik, that photo looks like Philly accompanying this lovely poem!) Is it? ps: GO BIRDS! GO PHILLIES!
It was actually taken in North Carolina this past week. I spent a week in the fall mountains and it was absolutely beautiful.
My daughter and family moved to Charlotte from Orlando and I am learning to love North Carolina weather. Great photo and post.
His poems are so tuneful. One almost sings them.
I love this poem and yearn to hear his sonorous voice mouthing these words in just the right cadence and inflection.
Wonderful, exultant.