... being an eagle

the FBI had something to do
with killing Woody, if not on 12/02/01
when he said or did something,
that made the cops mad,
I don't know what but
today, 4/11/03 the feds finished
their official investigation
to determine if there was any wrongdoing
by their thugs.

cops investigating themselves.
how surprising they found no fault.

what did we expect?

Each time the case
gets another stamp of approval
I rather feel like dying.
But that's just when
I like to consult my inner oracle:
"It's only heart-breaking
if i'm invested in the world
outside of me more
than the world inside of me."



I have to get
the world out
from my head--
a rapist from my bed.

there's something sane
to world weariness:
I KNOW this world is a gamble.
I know it's the reject planet.
Not the most evolved.
I know I am one of those
visitors in this foreign land,
yet who against our sacred remembrances,
feel the sting of
this world's pain.

In my perfecting escape,
I find eagle's eye views
of this life:
it's truly an adventure
a game of strategy:
you can die.
you will die.
now or later
is the only question.
life will beat
the crap our of you
first but
dying is the easy part.

Living is the hard part;
Feeling is harder;
yet, not feeling
is much, much worse.

Dying isn't not feeling.
being in a light-body,
released from
the body's
fears
clinging
aversions.


my take however
spirited, is
only from here.

My sister, Eleanor
came to me
after she "died" and
told me that
we can't get our minds
around death...
any more than we can
get
our minds
around life.

It's unknowably expansive.

...No matter what
we perceive,
there's infinitely more.

i asked a jewish mystic once
how he keeps from
getting spaced out or manic,
when he becomes God-intoxicated.

"I am always aware
of how much more
I don't know,
than what
I know."

There is STILL awe,
even after today
and yesterday
the war,

There remains
this universe
and countless others.

We remain
ants on the back
of something so great
we can't even see
or name it,
can't even imagine
that this is, in fact so.

When I was in Junior High
School i had this
fantasy:
i wouldn't follow
the events in the world.
i'd ride my bike to the resevoir
lie my cheek on the moss,
cry into the Earth,
listen to "blood sweat and tears"
while my second lover, Steve, painted
surrealistic, on his living room floor
while i watched, in awe.

and if and when
they were going to
push that button,
someone would just
let me know
that one thing.
"Time's up."

That's all I wanted
to know, would they please
tell me
when my time was
up, that was all.

Yesterday I asked my shrink
from
South Africa (a shaman, playing "doctor)"
how he copes
with the gradual take-over
of this country
by fascist interests,
"...well, for me it's always a matter
of how much time we have.
if
we still have time,
there's still a chance things will
change."

today, and often, lately,
i feel the crush
is
on.

we seem to be running
out of time.

ok so
i got bad
news today: the cops
who shot woody
were exhonerated
by the FBI.

and i just wanted
to not be part
of this club, my country,
maybe even-
not of this world,
one minute longer.

so what do i do.
i hurt
too much
to not mediate.
when i meditate
energies in my body rise
like eagles.

do you know eagles
will perch
on the highest branches
before a storm hits
to let
themselves
be lifted above clouds
by wind?
they ride
out that storm

well, that's what meditation
does for me....

Did you ever notice
how in an airplane,
you can see clouds raining
below
and how odd that
looks from above?
it's like, "Hey! People, I bet you think
its
JUST Raining!
Ha ha, you are just
under a temporary
shodow, though."

Well, I know in my soul
that this
earth-life is the same.

So what's all the
kvetching for anyhow?

...enough of my sermonizing.
I've gotta get back to my
sorrows....