True Stories of Our Real World, Real Stories of Our True World

Every Day Acts of Peace

Over 100 Million readers world-wide
in over 204 Nations and Territories
Google translation in over 100 languages

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Zanzibar 2006 : Still, More, Still More, My Heart Opens

Cardamom rubbed
into the sweat of my hand.
Palm trees drop coconuts.
Split seeds and cracked nuts.
Fractured hulls and skulls.

Grief sprouted it’s shoots and it shouts.
It is in the face of a boy with his hand signs.
It is in the face of a wall screaming graffiti alive.
"We pray to the same God as you,
why do you believe we do not."
"We cherish peace, love and happiness,
why do you believe we do not."

Cinnamon rubbed
into the heat of my skin.
Taro roots pulled and cut.
Tapioca roots cleaned and chewed.
Plants pushed and pulled.
Spices ground and blended.
Voices sing love of the earth,
all life and the forces of nature.

Smelled scent of Earth.
Organic bodies contacted
and compacted together.
Cycling voices, varying.
Sounded quiet cries,
“We are here, do not forget us.”

Our below ground histories still,
with existence, still in existence -
history repeats, it does not go away.
No matter how much we pray for change,
unless we change life's repetitions recycle pain.
The old Zanzibar town church
was built on top of the slave cells -
of the slave traders' market ...
still, alive, the collective hurt wants
healing and to transformation
of the humiliating pain of submission.

I see the distance between the sunbeams.
I see the particles within the beams.
It is not the matter of atomic spin.
It is a matter of Earth bound turns.
The anatomy of our human composition.
The matter of what decomposes life.
The manner in which life is decomposed,
then recomposed, and is composed of
the mannerisms of illusionary personality
which indenture the spirit of human mindfulness.

I close my eyes, I look at the Sun
and I wait.
I look at the ocean, I squint
and I wait.
While time passes, I feel
and I wait.
I open my eyes, I behold
the ocean's turquoise waters changing hue -
life rises to reveal itself to the Sun
from beneath the depths of the deep.

I close my eyes.
I listen to the call to prayer.
My body reacts
in strange and unusual ways.
It is a song of voices united in hope,
It is a hymn chanting meaning,
into the meaninglessness.

I am born of life forces,
co-mingling on the revolutions
of the sun, moon and earth -
birth is not designed by faith,
yet it is forged from eternity.
I feel my cells spin,
revolve on the axis of truth.

What do we know
of humanity's historical compulsion
and hysterical revelation?
I do not hide from any illusions
that spring before my senses.
I choose to open my mind and accept
what information experiences
eventually stream inward towards my senses.

I wait
knowing my heart
will further open -
still, more, still, more ...
I ask for more,
more to further open more.
Please open the door of my perception -
open more, still, more, 
still more ...
my heart opens more.

~ Other People's Fingerprints ~

In the 12th Century Farid ud-Din Attar wrote;
“The Angels have bowed down to you and drowned
Your Soul in Being, past all plummet’s sound –
Do not disguise yourself, for there is none
Who could with you sustain comparison;
Do not torment yourself – your Soul is All,
Your body but a fleeting particle.
This All will clarify, and in its light
Each particle will shine, distinctly bright –
As flesh remains an agent of the Soul,
Your Soul’s an agent of the sacred whole.
But part and whole must disappear at last;
The Way is one, and number is surpassed.”

Zanzibar, Africa

Zanzibar, Africa

Zanzibar, Africa

Saturday, March 26, 2011

Brazil 2000: Peaceful Acts Can Create Warring States of Transformation

I am full, up to my ears 
with time wasted
by people fighting 
under the guise of love.

In these moments 
I have learned 
to expect the unexpected ...
arm myself 
by protecting my balance 
of action married with compassion ...

Neutralizing my conflagrant reaction 
by opening wider to change.
And so it happens 
that while opening further, 
I meet two exceptional people ...
She, a native Brazilian. 
He, a Navaho Native American of Arizona.
They worked their way 
from Alaska to Brazil
and now help the creators of 
native Amazon Indigenous rain forest crafts -
Channeling the profits back 
to the artists and their villages.

We share impressions 
of world music, culture,
people who help people 
see and become more -
more expanded, more of possibility.
We share what we see of the shaping 
of our emerging fifth and sixth world creation.
I ask about the creation myths 
of the Amerindian forest peoples -
whose stories, I hear, primarily explain 
the origins of humanity,
and our world culture 
we are in relationship to, with Nature.

My new friends explain,
that individual myths are multilayered ...
relating the notions 
of knowledge and ignorance ...
the sacred charter 
that preserves past 
and current social order ...
the power structures 
and struggles 
within our selves ...
Reflected outward 
into our community's organisms ...
The relationship 
of differences and similarities 
within ...
within male and female creation
energetic functional-mechanisms.

Recurrent historical myths 
and current prophecies ...
interweave Women 
with natural fertility, balance
and knowledge of peace 
during chaos ...
And intertwines Men 
with cultural fertility, order
and sacred warrior knowledge 
during peace.

One widespread myth 
that varies 
from the Amazon to Tierra del Fuego
that the world of the Americas 
was dominated by Women.

The Women ruling order 
somehow reversed,
and transferred power to Men -
who then barred Women from ingathering ...
Prohibited the rights of assembly to Women ...
It was against the law 
for Women to attend power gatherings ...
Power gatherings 
where governing counsels united ...
and gathered in large numbers ...
Gathered to gather power 
to grow strong in charity, 
clarity to embody 
the certainty 
of their convictions.

My friend’s store 
is full of intricate sights,
the wares of what 
imaginative hands can weave ...
Everyday tools 
with the colours of feathers ...
Natural rainbows 
of transparent blues, greens, yellows and reds.

Rainforst Amerindian myths 
link fire in the body, sex, birth, death -
with the forces of Sun and Moon cycles ...
Raining of energy downwards upon and within us -
Stimulating entanglement of power struggles ...
Between the inner creative energy of Women ...
and external creativity of Men.
Natural forces of evolution 
create through destruction,
and destruction is a renewal force 
needed for the birth of new re.creation.

My new friends tell a story 
to explain the power shifts,
and reoccurring reordering 
of the uncommon Natural order.
Early people had no fire, 
they ate vegetables raw,
and warmed meat 
on rocks under sun.

Humans stole the power of fire 
from animal and mineral kingdoms.
The Birds tried to stop humans 
from escaping the forest
with this potent energy,
potentially destructive power -
The Birds gathered 
to fan extinguish 
the escaping fire's flames -
but in their excitement 
instead ignited their wings,
creating arches 
of rain bowed feathered 
reflections of coloured heat.

The Birds survived 

the atomic discharge,
the heat exchange 
within their breasts ...
eventually cooled 
from regaining 
their presence and insight ...
Colour gifted from Source,
at the time of their birth,
from Creation's cold comfort.

The Birds knew 
at that moment 
if they did not fly high, 
separate away,
the humans would try 
to recapture 
the Bird's coat of beauty 
created by Creation.
The Birds knew
that Humans would try 
to trap and cage the fire 
that thrived 
within the Birds feathered breasts.

The Birds also knew 
that one day 
to restore balance on the planet,
and within the universe ...
a reconciliation need occur 
between Birds and Humans.
Humans without Birds 
would be lost 
to the stars of the Heavens,
and Birds without Humans 
would have less a sense of Self -
Bird-sense is knowing 
and comprehending 
the gifts of their unique beauty.

Perhaps Birds 
are attractive to 
inhumanity suffering from the human condition -
Birds being a liberated presence in the skies,
represent something that  Humans once were ...
and might not ever be again. 

Attracting human admiration 
and human desire for capturing fire -
the energy that lays at the core within us all -
Birds are atomically elevated 
as the descendants on Earth 
who posses non-possessively 
a vast personal wealth 
constantly on display.

Daily birds 
their coloured riches 
to the sky -
their feathered crowns 
to other Earth descendant,
their Human sisters and brothers.

Birds learned 
that even the best intentions 
and desires have incalculable results -
All actions have some truth -
but no true beginning, middle and end.
Actions are simply reoccurring cycles 
of manifestations re.manifesting 
in varying forms.
Even the emissaries of peace and 
their peaceful acts 
can create warring 
states of transformation.

~~ Other People's Fingerprints ~~

Around 1960 Paulin Joachim wrote to his friend David Diop;
"... and it is true we are wounded at the lowest point of hope
but hope in us has never beaten its wing
it rises on our human horizons like a fresh unfolding bud
there lives in us unconquerable hope snapping at the heels of freedom
in due course it hunts down the dawn with huge supplies of stones
against the wall that will crack in the end
for we will not leave the smallest scrap to the demons of despair.”

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Tokyo 1989: A Man Will Fight Harder For His Interests Than His Rights

Post-War life interpreted
by art, technology and culture -
unique experiences of time personified
in concrete and glass –
stone edifices rise up
to tower over
our city’s architectural profile
and children’s haircuts, clothing, and shine.
Techno mod teenagers
color swish streets alive –
arms spread
the width that synthetic coats allow ...
... to experience the joy of light
which is their birthright.

Roaming bands of angels
disguised as gangs
of giggling playmates.
Unaccompanied minors
clear the way
for modernization
by storming the sidewalks
with the rain
of precisely created patterns
that unify their minds –
the mind, body
and spirit of the urban
mythological matrix.

Road speeders on motorcycles
free the way to make way
for connective technology –
beeping com-link counterparts form
a culture of I.D.
pre-screened dates,
mates and fellow digital conspirators.
Mobile phones ring
sounding off at street level
a resonance so high
that the signal-to-noise ratio
within the crowded sky crashes 
into suspended intelligence:
floating billboards,
lingering advertisements –
hovering talk shows
with digital voices
showcasing brainpower,
selling clothes, food and love.

suspended from above,
blocks out the sun during the day,
and at night,
hung from below,
propaganda obscures the moon.

At the center of material questing
is the need for connection
not the technology kind,
but the human sort.
All this city and nothing to please the needs –
international prostitutes
and sexually explicit comic books
hint at human desire for connection,
yet all is conveyed silently,
with no intimacy, not even eye contact.

I cough, cough again,
and then choke myself out of believing
that the constant noise, smoke and flashing lights
will activate an apathetic attack.

I check my body’s subtle energy fields
for the expression of my deeper nature.
My energy cells are holding their own,
stabilizing my neutrality -
at least in space,
the space I occupy
belonging to my non-physical dimensions.
All my directional flows
of anything and everything in between -
my positive-negative, negative-positive,
positive-positive and negative-negative -
check true to my potential.
I unify in defense of nothing
and I protect my everything.

As I pass rows of kids playing arcade games
the flashing lights spontaneous combust
suddenly healing
the alignment of my being, balanced -
my chakratic energy centers
spin out vortexes
of excessive non-essential activity.
Walking the streets of Tokyo
any time of day or night
is a acupunctured journey
of blissful reminders of times past,
and arrogant mindfulness of what is yet to come. 

A floating billboard advertises
 the charitable disposition
of a soul wanting marriage -
it reads;
"Remember your timeless wisdom waiting within for activation."

A bullet train resting,
before it shoots out of the station,
carries a sign that propagates the business of human nature
wanting a marriage of commercial minds.
 It reads,
something that Napoleon Bonaparte once said;
“A man will fight harder for his interests than his rights.”

 ~~ Other People's Fingerprints ~~
The second Law of Thermodynamics reads;
“All forms of life are tiny pockets of order
maintained by creating
a sea of disorder around themselves.”

Monday, March 21, 2011

Los Angeles 2011: Your Dreams Clean, Empower Your Force of Existence

I know some humans feel
the world revolves around them,
but consider that
perhaps all life
collectively creates
the clean spin
that together
revolves our world

With healthy attitudes
towards all life
we create healthy lives
for ourselves.

The lifeblood coursing
through our veins,
which animates our being,
is the spirit of our Soul
married in a relationship
with the elementals
of ether, air, fire, water and earth.

There are many concepts of reality,
being kept alive as beliefs,
in many cultures sharing our planet.
Yet, we all are created
from the same source of inspiration.
Consider the one source of inspiration,
that created humanity
also created the planet,
all the other planets
and multiverses,
and all of Space's occupants.

Life is simple
although some humans
tend to focus their energy
on the complex.
Life is so simple
it expires ...
life dies when it's harmony
is out of balance,
and it's basic foods grow polluted.

Life is a simple act
of reawakening each day
refreshed and alert -
yet some individuals wake
dead tired and drained of energy
perhaps overlooking,
and not reading their own vital life signs.

Simply bring your awareness to your Self,
to create days and nights filled with fulfillment -
by appreciating your basic elemental necessary foods.

From the world of stones and trees
to the civilizations of fauna and ocean life,
we are born to share
and co-create harmoniously
with all that surrounds us,
which we are in relationship with -
all which lives around us,
all that lives within us and enlivens us.

It is the elemental foods
of ether, air, fire, water and earth
that clean and sustain us.
So it is our basic simple responsibility
to create and sustain clean environments -
to support the life cycles of the essential
elemental foods that grow and thrive alive creativity.
All That is alive contributes
it's own creative life force,
to nourish all, all that requires nourishing -
all that is nourishing gives nurturing -
all that is vital gives and receives vitality.

Humanity is precious,
you are precious,
and so take care of your Self.
You are on this planet,
you are alive,
you are here
creating each day of your life -
and you are creating the environment,
in which each day of your life is lived in,
lived through, and lived out.

Existence is simply waking up each day
and seeking nourishment -
to keep alive your dream of being here,
to Self-energize your dream alive.

Your Self-individualization
lives an existence
of simple acts
that create life affirming actions,
which feed, nourish and revive your Being alive.

Life is simple existence,
on this planet giving due
to what care takes you,
and gives care to life.
The elemental existences,
which uphold life -
support all that existed
before we were born,
and created all life
before we came into existence.

Our life is a life cycle of living,
a life responsible to care take
the life responsible for our existence.
Supporting the life that gives care
and gifts life-force to our life
requires we in turn take care
and give care to life in return.

A symbiotic relationship
is a relationship between two entities
which is mutually beneficial
for the participants of the relationship.
There exists a harmony present at your creation,
which creates a positive-sum gain from cooperation.
If positive sum-gain is missing from your life 
then your existence and survival are out of balance. 

Are you creating experiences 
that deplete you of your vital life forces?
Do you find your Self tired, thick headed, 
foggy mind, forgetful, disoriented? 

You are responsible 
to clearly fulfill your own needs - 
to feed your Self 
the clean essential elemental foods, 
that thrive and drive 
your everyday 
existence of accomplishments. 

You are accountable to fulfill 
your own necessary daily requirements 
of clean elementals foods 
which care take the mechanics of your being.

You are the sustainable manager 

of your life force, and force of your life.

You are the care taker 

and care giver on whom your existence relies.
You are the event manager 
and fulfiller of your dreams.

You are the dreamer 
of your very existence into being,
and so you are also the dream.

Your dreams clean 
and empower your force of existence.

Your dreams clean your power trails 
and empower each step with Self-divinity.

Your visions quest into being 
your manifest destiny of super reality.

Dreams clean your system, 
clarify your mind 
and clear your life force. 
Dreams clear your body,
so positive-sum gain 
can symbiotically manifest,
in all your everyday activities 
and your nightly restful recreation. 

You direct your dreams 
to care take 
and give care of your Self, 
to support your Self gain 
and progressive 
life affirming accomplishment. 

You guide your Self 
to dream clean 
and clear positive-sum gains, 
enriching refreshing 
elemental benefits, 
which clean 
your air, fire, water 
and earthly remains while sleeping. 

Dream a dream which cleans your planet.
Your body is the planet of your Soul, 
the planetary host of your spirit.

Where we travel when asleep is anyone's guess.

When we awaken each day we experience ourself -
manifestations of our own creations.  
I dream dreams that clean my Self,
and the life force of my existence. 
I dream visions of a clean world,
which empowers and enlivens -
reinvigorates the life force of all life in existence.

~~ Other People's Fingerprints ~~
Sometimes after 1871 in his novel 
"À la recherche du temps perdu" 
(In Search of Lost Time) 
Remembrance of Things Past 
Marcel Proust wrote; 
"The only real voyage of discovery 
consists not in seeking new landscapes, 
but in having new eyes 
in seeing the universe 
through the eyes of another, 
one hundred others - 
in seeing the hundred universes 
that each of them sees."

Image Credit: Karin Lisa Atkinson 
"Urban Green"

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Tokyo 1989: Imagine Signs Of Life Amidst All The Debris Of Change

Daily earthquakes constantly shake so I create a ritual, I walk -
I need to get out of my thin paper-wall room -
flee the fragile construction of the worker's guesthouse -
avoid being inside a matchbox ready to ignite in case of fire -
so I walk,  I traverse beneath sub-way trains -
along traffic-clogged roads, through nature-lined parks -
under tree branches by flower gardens, over water arterial pathways -
past rock bands playing heavy metal, rap and hip-hop -
competing for fans stranded in the open air oasis of urban parklands.

I walk past shiny desire beautifully machined into personalities -
designer labeled elegance graphically alluring to the passersby -
yours to have and hold just pay cash, or swipe a card -
press the touch pad to select and receive -
cans and bottles full of beer, sake, juice, iced milk coffee or green tea -
walls and streets of machines that vend satisfaction to satisfy any need -
solar powered health aids, sex aids, comic books, street maps, food parcels -
all prettily wrapped in delicate paper and sealed attractive, yet accessible to all -
disposable convenience sold to friends and strangers -
one day I found a camera vending machine and picked up a disposable camera -
I clicked and flash-captured the spirits of people weaving between the worlds -
sitting and standing by water fountains looking blurred like bends of water -
ascending upward to sky in the Earth's pitch -
yet simultaneously descending downward onto the ground during the Earth's roll.

Occasional drunk men approach for quick sex in dark corners -
they whisper sweet nothings into my ear -
pushing and promising speedy exchanges -
fast, cheap, no sitting or kissing required -
just heated breaths accompanied by warm rice wine -
then the post-activity completion-cigarette to seal the bargain -
they take rejection badly, refusal of their offers very personally -
as if it is unkind to not share their keen urgent desire for intimacy -
on those occasions I decide no eye contact is the safest route back home -
I walk quicker, avoid alleyways, and evade unexpected encounters – 
I learn to ignore anything, but not everything, while I look for signs -
there are signs in the city that communicate the best way forward -
how to push through the unwanted events, noise, fuss, confusion -
glide past the neon stares, glares, competitive nudges of strangers -
it seems everyone is seeking refuge from unwanted life experience -
yet we are all on the same trail to detect the secrets within the book of life.

There is ancient knowledge contained inside our body of archives -
how the human mind and universal heart translate the language of society -
decode the wisdom of ages bookmarked inside humans -
everywhere within the rare events of life are reminders -
memories are shaken from their sleep -
the signs in life that were in shadow begin to become illuminated -
all the passageways slowly clear -
and within the human heart all that was lost is once again found.

Collective tragedy quenches the thirst of sorrow -
and fills all the vacancies forgetfulness brings for lust of life  -
in moments of grief the human heart awakens -
and the mental organ's become suddenly love-filled  -
desire rekindles to release all the now unimportant troubles of the past -
all that before plagued, and weighted life down within each human's heart -
releases as the earth quakes change, shakes it's Self free of what is pent up -
and reminds us all of previous historical destruction -
everyone momentarily shares their mass need to forgive and forget past wrongs -
all are one united in the surreal turmoil of safety and survival.

Amongst the life signs and coronary streets trafficking confusion -
glimpses of the occasional human camped out in a dark corner -
disguised as an electrocardiogram witnessing and reading the beats -
counting each heart rhythm as a footstep drumming -
a fingerprint strumming, an instep tapping and lapping at life's distant shores.
I watch a monk bend over tending to his garden -
concerned for the trees and worms, beetles and snails -
he gently cuddles them, all the children of this nation -
he softly encourages one and all -
to find refuge within the heated earth, now quickly cooling.

I walk past flower stands still blooming -
and pretty stuffed-red-bean green-mochi dessert shops  -
color adding elegance to the business of the walled-street night -
colors embody the same qualities in the darkest shadow and the fullest light - 
one and the same aspect of Soul -
yet we perceive, and so experience, color as separate events -
independent within the same body of life -
what we judge as dark is also light -
what we discern as light is also dark - 
all shades of life with no simple duality of extreme, this or that, one or the other  -
simply one, one color, one event, one experience, one sense of Self, one Soul -
perhaps what we are experiencing is the individualization of our Soul -
as it separates from life to distinguish it's Self at source.

I walk past Korean workers as they hastily prepare Japanese take-out food -
I watch Japanese workers make American fast food -
I witness Arabs vend Italian leather, as Africans trade Chinese pearls -
I hear Russian women sell their wares, as Thai women ply their trade -
I squeeze into streets full of half broken red and blue neon streaks -
I see ascending signs reflect down onto wet ground -
an unearthly sign of change reflect up onto pedestrian faces -
proletarian rain blurs obscure the color palette of urban technology -
everything is melting -
the organic outline of nonlinear golden light -
butters sweet the non-organic lines of luminescent light.
I trip over cylinders, tumblers, wormholes, twisted vortexes -
left behind by time travelers making quick getaways from the present and the past -
this street feels like it is paved with a vague sense of the future -
accompanied by all signs of life made visible by tremors that change -
fear that reveals the unknown -
I read recently in a book that American General George Stilwell once said,
“All living generations are responsible for what we do, and all dead ones as well.”

There must be more signs of life in life -
evolving us through unexpected events that transform all we know-
that veer us away from our everyday routine -
if only in that one moment which fatefully changes our direction -
we are altered in our journey's course -
we are slowed down into absolute stillness -
our rhythm quiets until our pulse is heard
and united as one with our heart's beat  -
unification stills us until 
we can see the light that courses through our veins -
I, ignites inspiration into e.motion, so we can feel, I am, wisdom -
I am wise, embedded into the deeper seeds within, awakes
I muse, infuses amusement into the life signs 
within the everyday trickery of society's pathways.

Courage and strength are found in the undoing of the familiar -

the unraveling of the common threads becomes our sword and our shield -
change protects us and shatters our dream-chasing of the non-essential -
trauma shared unites us all with the illusion of fragile mortality -
sudden change marries us to the deeper meaning of our eternal existence -
we witness liberating signs of life within society's walled and caged moments -
and then perhaps in one instant, one precious moment -
for it only takes one moment to alter us forever.

In one moment I am altered forever -
knowledge surfaces that I am enough as I am -
standing alone on the edge of the unknown within myself -
my truth glows brighter than my lies -
I am showered with validation and Self-love -
I am awakened from death to rebirth my imagination -
I begin again to imagine my Self a new story -
dream my Self a new dream -
larger than my life, brighter than any and all stars in all galaxies -
a remembrance sparks of my own eternity -
greater than a flash of heat and fire -
forged into my mind, sculpted into my heart, 
 my unique fingerprint is carved to perfection.

I do not remember if it is fate, destiny, free will, or mere chance that creates change -

I do remember in my moments of life or death situations that I chose life -
I do recall that I reminded my Self of how special and precious my existence is -
I am glad that I can put one foot in front of the other 
to dance my Self anew into each day -
I am grateful that I have the courage to renew my strength -
I am blessed with imagination to imagine signs of life amidst all the debris of change.

~ Other People's Fingerprints ~
Sometime after 1857 Ferdinand de Saussure said;
“We can therefore imagine a science
that would study the life of signs within society…
it would teach us what signs consist of,
what laws govern them.”

"Urban Blur" 

Monday, March 14, 2011

Japan Sea 1989: Pure Zen Spirit Guiding The Way

In my pack I carry
and read “The Way of the Samurai”
by Yukio Mishima.
This book is his translations
and personal interpretations
on the original classic Samurai
ethics and behavior book “Hagakure”.
“Hagakure” literally means “Hidden among the Leaves”.

Mishima had a kimono full of secret pockets
that hid his idealistic self-reflections –
he wrote this book three years before he performed
his dramatic ritual suicide
at the Self Defense Force headquarters in Tokyo.
Mishima thought he was defending his Self –
the war, internalized, within.
After his death his book became famous –
the war, externalized, without.
Mishima rose to mythic heights,
a resplendent Bushido life depiction.

“Bushido” means the “Way of the Warrior”,
it is at the heart of the beliefs and conduct of the Samurai –
the philosophy of Bushido is freedom from fear.
Samurai transcend their fear of death.
Transcendence of fear gives the peace
and power to serve
faithfully, loyally, and die well
if necessary as part of duty.

The consistency of war in the 15th century
and the introduction of guns into battle
created a change in the code of the warrior.
The code developed from the Chinese concept of virtue -
warriors doing battle armed with the power of morals -
virtue in the Samurai code created chivalry -
transforming warriors to be armed for combat
with consideration of others,
protecting human sensitivity with utmost care.

Some people believe that Mishima
was a modern day Samurai slaying life.
A clash of sword and pen,
warrior and poet philosophically Zen.
He died a benighted death,
iconic as a hero martyr
while still prime in the youth of life.

His code of conductivity
electively generated from the force within –
a part of the larger Self electric,
that we are all magnetically a part of, 
the Whole
water and fire,
female and male,
either and air,
Earth and Spirit essence of You and I -
You are your Self,
I am my Self.

At his moment of death
I wonder
if Mishima's last thought
was pure Zen spirit
guiding his Way.

~ ~ Other people's Fingerprints ~~
Yukio Mishima wrote in 1967;
“Each and everyone of us
hides within his subconscious mind
deep, blind impulses.
These are the dynamic expression
of the contradictions
filling one’s life
from moment to moment,
a manifestation
that has essentially nothing to do
with social ideals for the future.

In youth these are manifested
in their boldest, sharpest form
Moreover, such blind impulses
appear in dramatic opposition,
even in confrontation with one another.

Youth possesses the impulse to resist
and the impulse to surrender, in equal measure.

One might redefine these as
the impulse to be free and the impulse to die.

The manifestation of these impulses,
no matter how political the form it assumes,
is like an electric current
that results from a difference charge –
in other words,
from the fundamental contradictions
of human existence.”

Tokyo 1989: Hold The Sun In The Midst Of Pitch Darkness

A friend heard me say;
“Our bodies 
are a vessel of flesh and bone 
but we are mostly made of water.”

I continue internally digesting life 
and life's eventful life experiences.

I tell my friend ...
“Nesting liquid heated to the atom, 
our bodies are a chilled glass container.”

Then I say,
“Eventually our souls become transparent 
and then our bodies non-existent.” 

I take a walk ...
Day-end darkened weary features 
of people crowding dessert shops
eating samples at the door, 
mixing green tea 
and sweet red bean aromas
into the already 
scented puddles 
of freshly fallen rain.

On the streets I pass 
fresh sushi riding conveyor belts 
in circles at restaurant counters.
Neatly sliced raw pinky fish on white rice, 
priced by the color of the plate.
I stop to watch 
the recently deceased flesh 
travel around the world 
of the customers.
Fish smells are inhaled up my nose.
I exhale, 
the seafood of ocean life, 
into the path 
of another passerby’s nose.

Life passes backwards 
while I walk forward 
towards home.
I think I smell Hollywood: 
Mexican tamales, Ethiopian bread, Thai noodles.
My feet hurt from hitting the day-long concrete streets.

I soften 
as I contact 
the wooden walkway 
leading into our garden.
I firmly plant myself in the ground 
by slipping on wet balsam tree planks.

I pick up 
a round energetically vibrant stone 
hiding under the garden shrubbery.
My hands are red cold, 
dripping wet; 
home is where the heart is.

I am home, 
home is governed 
by my Shogun landlady.
She owns her own post-war-Tokyo 
construction-worker’s boarding house.
She respects women 
and she thinks men are big baby bears 
with large calloused paws.
No matter, 
in her world, 
her reality 
is providing each guest 
with their own paper room.

There are house rules 
for the worldly guests: 
Singles only,
No coupled sex,
Self serve only.
Free hot green tea. 
Free hot water for instant noodles. 
Free hot nightly baths before bed.

There are many rules to govern 
our code of conduct,
the regulations assure 
clean inner functions 
to ensure outer cleanliness.

Legend says ...
the Emperor Keiko 
was the first person with the title of Shogun ...
the word Shogun means 
Barbarian-subduing General.
I currently am the barbarian 
being subdued by the Shogun,
and so I read 
some words from the year 1300
written by (Lalla) (Lal Ded) Lalleshwari.

“Where did I come from, and how?
Where am I going?
Will I know the road?"

"This life is empty breath.
If I can hear one clear truth,
I’ll be fortunate."

"Who can hold the drippings in freezing mid-winter?
Oh, who can hold the wind in one’s clenched hand?
He and only he who crushes the five sense-organs and tears them into shreds.
He alone can hold the sun in the midst of pitch darkness.”

~~ Other People's Fingerprints ~~ 

Sometime after 1929
Martin Luther King, Jr. spoke and wrote; 
"We must accept finite disappointment, 
but never lose infinite hope."