here’s the 15 foot poem I promised you a while back

all road signs begin to lead me in the wrong direction
where are you?
my brothers and sisters?
“Shut up Hippie!” they scream and laugh
but what does that mean
what does that truly mean?
where are you?
I am the light muse,
the fog horn
beckoning thee.
and the reflecting agents came
crawling through the walls,
up through the cracks in the floor boards
through the pores in every surface
and as i slept
my kin
into my skin
into my bones
eyes opening
strained, forceful, contorted ways
with pure indescribable light
the sweetest loving light of an unseen face
“trace these lines” she says, back
to eternities gate
begins to shape the states of internally expanding grace
billions of colors convene
and calibrate to the form of hidden heartscape
the binding agents unite
dancing and swarming they huddle
on the floor of minds open eye.
she whispers
quietly, in reverence
so i sit
contemplation replaced with the still
steady pulse of heart centers healing release.
dank walls of misconception crumble to earths ever renewing surface.
reflecting agents of change
your heart fire unites with her core
and burns through my eyes
a day dreaming depth of such divine vision
once known, one cannot deny, I try,
but see no other way
out of the darkness of this dismal day,
these dire extremes
beckoning for change, ever louder
grow your silent screams,
nourish me,
see through these third level lies
“we are held” she cries, silently
without integration of heart mind vision we remain
trapped in the minds jail cell of fear and judgement
only through heart map, can we attempt
to navigate.
renewing rain
washes away emotional stains
back- to the confusion-from which they came.
the war mongers leave waste
and wreckage- twisted tracks of deception
but with patience and true strength these are lifted
and re-assembled
into a spiral staircase of pure potential
spanning from golden globe to sky caves door
we ride this transcendent line
each stop
a timeless trek for activation
relationships become journeys
the signs of your light bodies are scribed
through the divine vision of each opened eye.
course these veins
reflecting agents of change
surrender mine lower senses to subtle bodies quiet advances.
let unclouded eyes trace the perfection of your structure
with each co-creating gesture
we dance- your body feeding all bodies,
tears become rain drops
day light becomes a doorway
night our cave
Re-instate your caress as the only call to arms
feed us sweet nectar
re-charge us with your agents of change
let I
be your vessel
and in your sweet embrace
we remember
we see
we manifest.

pictures & a poem

music homework

this chicken was washed up on shore, next to where I wrote the below poem on the way home from shasta. I rescued it and will imortalize her in an assemblage piece.

Tara & Shasta
I lay
with my back against a large rock
rapids splash hungrily below
a train whistle in the distance
the dissonant humming of metal on metal
countless names fly by
union pacific, EOK, DNB, Shorty
coloring this oversized metal snake
on it’s trek towards my mountain mother
the one called shasta
who’s radiance I bathed in
last night
who’s gently massaging fingers carressed my tired eyes.
Tara came to play
and washed away those who would defile our communion
“Om Tare Tu Tare Ture Soha”
your smile enters my vessel through rivers song
sunlight kisses this weathered face
and awakens again the chrimson child within
he who is inseperate from your love
he who peaks his head from your cavelike womb
my trek to the base of your mount teaches me life lesson:
the power of your presence
strengthening light body into a mighty giant.
no human made display could ever touch
the depth of our connection
your light stream dances through dreaming eyes
and I am filled
with the glory of your perfection
all i need
all i am
is the solution
to any and
all human questions.

This is gunna be good

Tuesday nights
Ayres 106 (The Little Theatre)
$3 donation appreciated
March 6, 2007
The Kids Are Alright: New Future Visions Portland filmmaker and curator Gretchen Hogue’s third annual show for the University Film Series. Hogue hosts and writes, “The New Future Vision for hungry eyes. Electronic paintings for cerebral spaces. Virtual avatars in the neon forest. Saturday morning cartoons never felt so good. Come on, feel the noise.”
Preceded by Chico State art student Michael Giannattasio’s min-documentary about Jonathon Keats’ Apian Ballet, the conceptual art project Keats began last November on the University Farm (“dances for honeybees choreographed with flowers cultivated on the campus of California State University, Chico”).
Conceptual Artist Jonathon Keats To Choreograph First Performance Season In Collaboration With Chico State University Students and Faculty
November 20, 2006 – Skilled at dancing eons before humans could walk, honeybees are admired by entomologists for the complex physical language with which they communicate the location of flowers to one another. Yet the species has been ignored by choreographers from Nijinsky to Balanchine, who have preferred to work with their own kind. “Humans can be a bit narcissistic,” comments San Francisco conceptual artist Jonathon Keats. “Bees are nothing like us.”
In an effort to bridge the divide between Homo sapiens and Apis mellifera, Mr. Keats will choreograph the first ballet specifically for honeybees while at California State University, Chico, as a visiting artist during the week of November 27th. Working with students across disciplines, he will plant nearly one hundred narcissus bulbs on the Chico State University farm, carefully arranged to inspire apian ballet when they bloom in the Spring.
“Deep inside their hives, the bees will dance according to the locations of flowers they’ve found,” Mr. Keats explains. “The ballet won’t be predictable, though, because the bees will also encounter flowers that we haven’t planted. The choreography isn’t dictated, merely suggested.”
Moreover, performances inside the hives, ongoing throughout the Spring 2007 season, will not be open to human audiences. “The bees will dance for each other, not for us,” says Mr. Keats. And what will we experience? “The flowers, and the dances they evoke in our minds.”
* * *
Jonathon Keats is a conceptual artist, novelist, and critic. For his most recent project, at the Judah L. Magnes Museum in Berkeley, he exhibited extraterrestrial abstract artwork. He has also attempted to genetically engineer God in a petri dish, in collaboration with scientists at the University of California, and petitioned Berkeley to pass a fundamental law of logic – A=A – a work commissioned by the city’s annual Arts Festival. He has been awarded Yaddo, MacDowell, Ucross, and MacNamara fellowships, and his projects have been documented by KQED-TV and the BBC World Service, as well as periodicals ranging from The San Francisco Chronicle to The Boston Globe to New Scientist. He is represented by Modernism Gallery in San Francisco. For more information, please contact Mr. Keats at, or see