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Every Day Acts of Peace

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Sunday, September 11, 2011

Nova Scotia 2011: Self Validation Is A Self Full Act Which Transfixes The Force of Self Terror

Today I celebrate being alive;
being in love with my planet.
being in awe of my peace.
being human with respect of Life.

I am in love with peace.
I honor Life in all it's forms and expressions.
I have a choice to not love Life.
I could judge, be judged, be judgmental -
but judging myself and others
feels mentally terrorizing.
To be Self-judgmental
and judgmental of others,
creates terror which produces
a terrible terror-full Life.

To engage in Self-terrorism
is to drain the power out of Life.
Self-terrorism is a selfish act of powerlessness -
powerlessness which paralyzes
and alters one's personal force of nature.
Self-terror rejects Self-love to fuel Self-hate.

As an individual I choose
to recognize my presence,
and my ability to create more presence
and to create the presence of more love.

I respect my Self,
my days and nights
which add up to make
the sum total of my Life time.

I am here on this planet,
in my body experiencing
my Self create my Life.

For as long as I give and take,
for as long as it takes me to give,
and as long as it takes me to forgive -
I create more to recognize more of my Self,
to respect more of my own emotions,
and to navigate more of my unique mental landscape.
Life events created in the soundscape,
experienced as mental image pictures
traveling through space as stories,
sensory eclipses that are written then read,
reviewed, remembered, recycled reenactments.

My world is a planetary spaceship
moving through space.
My body is a planet
hosting all the elements of Life -
atmospheric layers surround body,
in some ways individual aurora borealis,
auric reflections mirroring energies within.
Life choices emanate from my core samples -
what I source as belief
creates some thing, in some way,
depth perception, spacial recognition,
color, light, sound and more -
more than I can some how imagine.

A friend once shared with me,
"If there is a thought in  your head
it is probably not your own."

Thoughts those wireless air trafficked noise
of all activity simultaneously occurring.
To sense thoughts is to read thoughts,
but thoughts represent nothing
and what has already been created
by someone doing something somewhere.

Space surrounds each expression,
the balance of the acoustics forming Life -
the sound of Life as an integral transpersonal presence.
We are, after all, the all and everything
existing as individual vibrational forces -
the what and the wherefore
of what we created to live as Life.

I am designed to take in impressions
and give off impressions.
I can sense personal presence,
I can sense the sound of all things -
the individual song sung
by the making of their presence,
the presence of their actions
eternally vibrating as the voice of their choice.

Are thoughts the harmonics generated
by the happenstance of Life?
I believe thoughts are impressions -
transparent essence, flowing waves of energy,
possessive memorable carrier signatures,
wireless sound and mental image pictures,
generational fluxes of energetic arcs, sparks,
contractions, pressures, expansions, impressions.
Thoughts are captured, held captive
by our mental and emotional bodies
to sense, to store, to story and to story tell.
Life is a tale of storied memorized thoughts,
data stories archived thoughtfully
as Life events we then call experiences -
but thoughts are simple elements of a larger whole,
and so thoughts are always incomplete and transitory.

Is there a common sense or a common way of sensing?
Thoughts might be an energy form we all commonly witness.

It is interesting that all living entities on our planet
are co-created individually to thrive
and survive as individuals.
Each individual's belief system
is special to their own life' journey.
There is no right or wrong path on a Life journey -
simply individual steps of daily destiny,
which move to develop one's own sense of fate.

Each individual creates and follows a direction.
which changes constantly;
with each awakening day,
with each exhale, each inhale,
with each loss of consciousness,
that constantly occurs
as part of the natural human journey -
sleep a relaxing recreational activity
for processing life experiences.

The past no longer exists,
the future has not been created yet.
It is in the present that an individual hears
their own unique song playing out their destiny.

Each their own, to each their own,
personal song of personal power -
a recognition of their own courage,
and the role each plays
in each own's personal awakening.
Individual purpose, vision and value
is not only a form of destiny
but is as well, personally created to Self-realize.
When in Self-doubt, when doubting one's Self,
each one of us each has one heart, one mind,
the spirit of truth inscribed
within each one of us created to create one Life.

I am certain of the power
of the forces of nature.
I know that I have witnessed
events beyond the experience of my senses.
The sensory unexplainable
has remained unexplained -
events of memory, sight and sound,
occurrences in space and time
which alter one's impressions of Life,
and leave mysterious cords that dangle questions.
To live is to want more knowledge of what more exists,
and to make peace with what more there is
which is currently occurring other than we can sense.

I believe individuals existing,
here on this planet,
do not speak very often
of what is truly meaningful.
Perhaps sometimes it is hard
to find the vocabulary,
or to know where to find
the inner courage ...
to communicate
from one's own heart
what is so very special to one's Self.

So, in honor of how hard I have worked
to become my Self,
today I celebrate being alive,
being in love with my planet,
being in awe of my peace,
I am a Human Being honoring all Life.

I am here on this planet, in this body, 
Being my Self, becoming my Self,
for as long as I give and take,
for as long as it takes me to give,
and for as long as it takes me to forgive -
Self-validation is a Self-full act
which transfixes the force of Self-terror.

~~ Other People's Fingerprints ~~
Sometime after 1935 Mary Oliver wrote;
My work is loving the world.
Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird ~
equal seekers of sweetness."

In 1986 Mary Oliver wrote "The Journey" in "Dream Work";
... But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company.
You strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do,
determined to save
the only life you could save."

Saturday, September 10, 2011

Los Angeles 2010: I Fully Exist

My poems took me my entire life to produce.
The stories I tell are non-scripted aberrations 
of time, travel and tension.

My earlier work was absurd, 
violent, non-linear and sad.
Lesions oozing 
from the world of stirred realities 
and confused illusions.

I never knew which was which …
but I always felt 
every breath deeply 
and every tear dramatically –
that is when I could cry…
most times my eyes were blind and dry.

I had seen, and given, too much of myself
to produce expendable moisture of any kind.
I gave away my Soul 
each moment 
while creating the art of my living.
I gave away my Soul 
performing for the masses 
of undesiring audiences.

I no longer stand 
on window ledges and rooftops 
watching pedestrians,
shouting out to them, 
at them 
or with them…

Nor do I write of wounds
to perpetuate 
the violent complexity 
of my inner struggle,
and Self-defeated Self-esteem.
I no longer bang my head 
against walls, sidewalks 
or doorways to the unknown.
I no longer roam the streets homeless,
rejected and denied
with no place to sleep,
and no sleep to reap deeply fulfilling dreams.

There are things that I have seen 
that no one should ever have to see.
There are words that I have heard spoken 
that no one should ever have to hear.
Due to it all, this experience called life -
of living hell 
and questionable mental sanity -
I have blossomed.

I have flowered from a seed hiding, 
germinating, in the dirt,
into a woman forged of fortitude.
Strong to battle standing up 
the chaos of the world within,
and the world without.

I think I am foolish enough 
to always find a store of optimism,
to forgive everything 
and wake up the next day, 
fully present,
having forgot the ruin 
and destruction of the past day before.

I truly believe that I am a loving person,
and that each moment is an opportunity 
to redefine myself, to myself, for myself.

I fully believe that each day is an exercise 
in discovering new ways to love myself,
no matter what…
and so the journey goes on until it ceases to exist…
and my eternal, I, further ventures
into the wonderland of the bodiless soul of adventure,
and I will never cease, nor desist, 
because without a doubt, I know, I fully exist.

~~ Other People's Fingerprints ~~
 William F. Scolavino wrote;
“The height of your accomplishments
will equal the depth of your convictions.”

Thursday, September 1, 2011

Cuba, NYC 1987: Brush Away Troubles With A Transformational Grin

Cuba New Year’s Eve 
a crammed outdoor sports stadium
gyrating dance, jazz, 
drinks, eats and smokes 
all along a river
sweating with coupled demonstrations 
of contact life and love.
Beach salsa parties 
tart with rum 
end in early morning
when bus stop vendors 
dispense espressos 
to wrinkled clothed insomniacs.

Sunshine lightens the load 
by exposing each day 
to what is concealed.
The dawn opens
energizing endurance 
into those who continue to live -
we who learned from those who passed, 
search for our legacy via human history.

Standing on the beach of Cuba 
looking backwards towards America, 
I see a mirage –
erroneous rubber rafts, 
elusive floating barges,
mythological people 
shipping out on a miracle
fueled by the reverie of a blessing –
from a creative force who loved humans, 
even before 
humans ever dreamed
of praising and loving 
the creativity within universe.

I witness sanctimonious ceremonies 
swimming the hallowed gulf,
life-savers of discontent snug around waist.
I watch the dolphins laugh 
at the competitive distance needing to be dogpaddled, 
and at what deathly pace,
in order to close the spiritual and material gap 
between the worlds.

The grave current knows 
where the boat floats to next.
I drift to New York City 
to the community of exiles 
who keep their culture alive,
in small backrooms, 
in a city on the edge 
of material and spiritual bankruptcy –
yet, rich enough for immigrants 
fresh from other worlds, 
so called developing.
No one shares with the new arrivals 
that this land is in the grips of a so-called recession,
so the immigrants celebrate 
feeling born again with privilege to make merriment – 
yet homesick they feel dead tired 
from scaling wealth upward towards class nobility.

In New York 
the clouds above the skyscrapers demand 
that this city share space 
with occasional rain falling, 
from far above the ground, 
down onto industrious faces.
Men sitting in parking lots control 
damp streets and moistened bodies.
They chair the meetings of the boards, 
the homeland turf needing defending
as Little Italy fights Chinatown 
from unplanned expansion.
These territory wars separate people 
from their dreams of liberty.

Adults could choose 
to live free 
and walk the neighborhood streets
eating pot stickers, shaved ice, and pizza 
instead of creating territorial boundaries,
instead of creating unsustainable wars over resources
instead of consuming fear.
Instead adults teach their children to fear, 
to be in terror and to terrorize.
Adults stage grudge matches 
which threaten the community’s youth
into becoming teenagers terrified of becoming teenagers in terror –
and we all know from human history lessons 
that teenagers in terror terrorize -
and that groups of people when they gather gang up, 
then they are charged up by the energy of the Sun 
and heated into living battles 
which scorch the earth dry 
from the fiery extremes of passion.

There is no middle ground under the Sun -

the hottest ball of energy in our system is solar,
creating solitary independence 
for each individual fused with atomic reaction.
We all know from human history 
that groups of peopled atoms 
when gathered into a protesting vibrating mass
uncontrollably spontaneously combust 
altering all past forms, 
reforming into renewed energies 
to create anew 
expanded uncertain futures.

The highest audience 

looking down upon Broadway claps thunder -
lightning toothpicks clean bright 
the lofty pearly whites of caretaker smiles -
smiles that flash 
the subways to lighten up the darkness 
of those living underground unconsciously.
Unlike clockwork 
the street cleaners and sanitation engineers 
periodically lift the concrete carpet 
to sweep under its under belly -
to hide away for a later time
all the dark unresolved human shame, grudge and grime.
This teeth-clenched city daily sanitizes its smirk, 
seemingly brushing away its nightly troubles, 
by wearing a bedazzling transformational grin.

~~ Other People's Fingerprints ~~
After 1940, Miguel Barnet wrote;
“Now that the syllables of my heart
are awake in my house
I spread my voice to all the cardinal points
With a marimba and a drum
I proclaim my love for this land.”