Thursday, July 18, 2013


Sometimes I wish I could wake people up. Back in the sixties we said, "Turn on, tune in, drop out." In it's best frame that meant, "People, wake up!". That's the start of me. I took it quite seriously then and while my experience eventually led to a dead end, it was in the beginning overflowing with hope. I tried to manifest the best of it. The path led to technicolor life and took me out of despair to boot, though echoes of the dark murmuring still sound 46 years later. I got sober in 1983 if you mean physically and emotionally free of dope, of alcohol. I have worked hard on achieving personal balance. However, I hold the spiritual part of things I found then close to my heart as ever. It was real then, the core of the vision, and no less real now.


He's my comatose cousin
all right, last awake
somewhere near Christmas.
I tried to get him to rise
not so long ago.

It didn't work out.

He lies on the couch sprawled out
as if he owns it.
I guess he sort of
does own it. I remember
that though I with all
my heart would prefer
so much less of him in my
chewed up circumstance,
my claw marked space.

‎July ‎18, ‎2013 2:12 PM


  1. the call, perhaps you and me both. perhaps it is intrinsic to who we are and it is born into us directly into our selfhood, speaking to that which is beyond our selfhood but inside of us as well.

    yup. wake up. please, please, please, wake up. and touch this miracle here beneath the veil, through the veil.


    1. Erin, one part of the despair that remains with me is all about how I am completely powerless to really do anything about the wake up call. Nothing works short of some sort of divine intervention. We can only chip away otherwise and that has been going on for millennia. We no longer have that kind of time. I keep trying. And loving. For that matter, especially loving you.


The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.

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