The High road prince of all challengers forgives

Part 1.

I was six years old,

green as the moss on the moist paving stones in winter

i was a cublike man, a manlike cub,

young, naive, intelligent, and pregnant.

my mind bubbled like a witches cauldron, hungry to step up,

to be tall, to be proud

like my father,

like my fathers father

like my fathers, fathers, father.

he shot the arrow straight into the air, grabbed my arm and we ran for cover.

Part 2.

spring 1979 he was mindless and highly unpredictable,

I left him there, damning the waters of his own salvation.

A virus begins.

and now as i stand here and ponder

the sensation stirs wonder and boundless strands of translucent yes fibers into the air,

like a child sneezing unreservedly in a crowded elevator offering his condition freely to those around him.

a virus

only this virus is intrinsically wholesome in nature

like a plague, to grow new limbs where old ones once stood.

an army of white blood celled soldiers whose only job

is to burn through rotting parts which no longer serve

like an atrociously uncontrolled wild fire,

like the shape your mouth makes when

you say i love you.

i can see it in my minds eye

and when i allow its influence to become the

seed for whats to grow next

all i can hear is laughter

not the laughter of the shallow hearted,

not the laughter at the cost of another

but the laughter that fills the chest cavity with mamas earth birthing power,

the laughter that knows no boundary could ever even scarcely attempt to contain its grandeur

the laughter of the small child

before the child knows what laughter is

the laughter you taste in your eyes as you step through the door

of yesterdays mistakes, and into the vastness of tomorrows potential

the laughter that fuels your capacity to stand before a flock of

hot greasy mouthed poker faced monsters named crack down, back breaker, and star stomper,

who all surround you and simultaneously attack, spitting extremely corrosive acidic venom

at your face.

but you

stand there so strongly in your laughter, that it turns into a forcefield of forgiveness

that infuriates your attackers into a mass of spontaneously combusting toddlers who spin

like dervishes until they too sprout power points of light from which the ineffable laughter you gave them spills.

the laughter of the green night.

the laughter of the high road prince of all challengers.

the laughter of true love.

W O R D

the room for resting held him

chest up eyes closed

completely relaxed

the dark chamber inside the tree

each empty heart incrementally filled with red digital vitality

EVERYTHING is filled with electric digital  fire…

trails, chemical or not, all lead back to this truth

how do YOU plan to channel all of it?

there is a vision, so perfect, as to be the tester

of all other visions.

W O R D

how then to stand and remember amongst those who long to forget?

they once knew the meaning of the WORD warrior

the action spoke with the heart of the speaker

the dream never escaped, for memory was perceived directly

as you are seeing me, so was it seen.

with careful precise motions you may capture what has been lost

her sword is the one we must now hold.

his gauntlet lay broken, frail, stained, but not forgotten.

a story, his story.

hers is the power that wears no mask

as naked as the way you came.

hers comes of sheer necessity

 hers is a power which the big weak men use

to veil their evil ways

but they will fall,

for this crime, her  penalty pulls all into her maw.

one day her gown will turn inside out

all will squirm and flail, as an earth worm torn from the soil.

will you climb out of the sky cave?

emerge from your holy digital shackle?

to face what’s next

will you channel ALL OF IT?

here we will meet

time without end

W O R D.

CHEDDA DA SHREDDA!!!

especially pungent and ripe
the taste of her smiling heart
on billowing blazing screen
of my minds inner eye.
to be inside of every motion
to know
the struggling, burning desire
inside
is all, because of love.
to remember
and find you here
before my ever expanding heart.
to listen to your whispers through my inhales and exhales
this is intimacy, this is your gift to me,
a dream come true.
—————————
she sails the seven seas and dreams the fire of light
into intrinsic awareness,
resisting urges to neglect the limitless channels of her abundant body I stand.
She smiles
and I capsize into her salty turbulence
i test, but misjudge the depths
gasping, frantically, frog kicking my way
to supossed safety  up and up I climb to pierce her liquid skin
and am instantly engulfed in the warmth of fathers beaming brilliant gaze.
she holds me
I float
I float and breathe
I float and breathe and listen
I listen deeply to the chorus of her underwater wisdom
churned up through the orififices of every living being that swims and moves and flows through her loving surging mass.
—————————
a blank canvas
two days to finish everything
two days to soak up boundless rights of passage
two days to entertain notions of the vastness of the interwoven
networks that most humans refer to as “things I have to do”,
scribbling TO DO lists of indifference, simply to guide the limitless
into smaller and smaller bits
which allow the tiniest spark,
but brilliant are the twinkles of each item checked.
a TO DO list to test the methods of my own mind.

1.digest food with care, paying close attention to the delicious intricacies and textures of her very essence
2. directly acknowledge and appreciate the ability to see the light AND the shadow
and to honor both, and to offer your life in service to this unfolding transaction
3. keep checking…and checking…and checking

and keep honoring the ability, the right to bear
arm loads of purple and pink pillows of such lushness
you puke from the over the top cuteness.

he sees a very large spider
he stops writing and grabs his empty water cup that sits next to his bed
he gently coaxes her into the vessel
and deposits her outside the back door.
—————————————–
I am for an art that makes your insides smile
I am for an art that changes its name to you and me, an art whose appetite
is so large we are all swallowed alive and instantly reborn as professional alien dune buggy drivers.

I am for an art who never has and never will post to my timeline,
but who I know loves me anyways.

JOIN US JUNE 15TH FOR OUR FIRST EXHIBIT!
GALLERY WILL BE OPEN AFTER THAT!
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Her passages
Transmit thisness
To all who’s hearts are wide enough opened to hear.
Her cadence, by the minds standards is slow,
However
the depth of her perception is vast, holding the entirety in it’s gaze.
An act existing beyond time.
To comprehend
one must sit.
One must see all parts
By themselves AND as part of a continuum.

A TANTRIC tale so vast it has no beginning
No end
Only chapters of constant remembrance
Enlightening deliverance.

SHE stands tall as tower
SHE wears the garment of truth.
You long touch it, to tug at it
Your eyes wide, wet, baby like.
You gaze in wonder.
Her immaculate whispers buzzing
In your loving longing lobes.

LISTEN

Be still
And listen.

JUST FOUND THIS AWESOME SITE listening to a talk on the Secret Doctrine LISTEN!

1078 Gallery Members Show 31st Invitational
April 26 – May 12, 2012
Reception and 31st Birthday Celebration
Saturday, April 28, 5-7pm
Music by Ellen Akimoto, Sandi Escobar, Christian Marquez + Paul Wellin

Please send a brief description (title, medium, and size) of the piece you plan to submit to info@1078gallery.org. Please include “members show submission” in the subject line. All categories welcome: wall, sculpture, installation, and performance. All current or renewal member submissions accepted. You may join or renew at the time of submission. Only one submission per member.

DROP OFF: April 22 + 23, 12:30-5:30pm
PICK UP: May 12, right at 5:30pm or + May 13, 10am-2pm