cortadomug

[cortadomug]

When I die and am on the embalmers table and they cut me open to inset the tubes ,there will not be organs or coagulated blood .

Only Earl Grey tea bags and earl grey tea will seep from my cold corpse somehow still steaming hot.

[cortadomug]

I drink some tea to pass the time

the way the birds will always fly -

day by day I make a rhyme

just to make it through the day.

Finding you and sitting here

makes me feel closer, dear

let me make you something so sublime

you stay with me all day.

[cortadomug]

damn

Do you ever think about how Tolkien’s vision of the greatest evil in the universe was something he referred to as “The Machine” which was his way of talking about accelerated industrialism and mass surveillance and he wrote multiple books where the main villains were a dragon who sits on a huge pile of treasure that he never intends to use but incinerates anyone who comes near it, a man in a giant tower who’s wrecking the environment with his factories, and an evil being who uses what’s essentially a listening device to control the citizens of middle earth. And now Amazon is making a Tolkien show. Do you ever think about that.

[cortadomug]

SpAcE

title of this poem is: "I'm a dumb trekkie and that NASA photo got me"

space; the final frontier....

these are the voyages of a planet: Earth;

as it spins around and hurls itself about an enormously violent exploding mass

in a great big ovular motion;

its forever mission: to continuously ride the constant and violent motion that carries it and its solar-siblings around an endless void, endlessly filled with matter and possibility;

carrying with it life and ever-changing civilizations;

boldly going where it might have been, or never been, before.

[cortadomug]

This post made my brain wheels turn. This is what came out:

I understand that you've been brainwashed -

forgive me, I can no longer not be blunt -

for you it is the highest honor to bring all of your beggings before this god

it was for me also

the greatest and most high regard I could give to my friends was to bring God's attention to their lives --

as if my speaking in the closet was somehow going to garner a God's attention any more than writing in a journal -

forgive me, but you pray to this God for yourself alone, doing so in the delusion it is for others -

and in that delusion you disregard yourself, not giving yourself any of the love you deserve -

in spending all your quiet time begging a Diety to care for your friend, a Diety you believe already knows your friend so well -

why must I ask god to take care of his own people? if his own people we even are...

I'd rather not wash myself in the blood of a God's child sacrifice (this is Jesus, this is Isaac) in order to belong to It.

"Please pray for my friend"

Why do I have to keep asking your God to take care of people?? Did He forget to take care of people?

Your God sucks.

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when I left the church

when I left the church

I did it quietly.

no one really knew how much I’d

lost and left behind.

the couple friends I told

they took it silently --

while grateful for the tolerance

I somehow wish they had done

more.

when I lost my faith

it hurt me privately --

and I decided not to shout

because I didn’t want salvation,

not

after spending all my time

and my inner private effort

begging for my life

and for that peace which

was promised

after doing all the praying,

surrendering myself,

searching for His meaning

and hushing my doubt.

when I left the church

it arose abruptly

yet when I think about the years I spent

it is not quite so abrupt –

when it finally happened, it just made sense.

I looked about myself

for that faith

and where it went –

I couldn’t find it;

and I was spent.

when I wrote this poem

I did it quietly –

no one was around

to bear witness to the

sound

of a woman bearing witness

to herself

because

there was no one else.

when I left the church

no one stood beside me.

no one saw me as I stepped

into the sun.

the couple friends I told

knew a little of my soul

and that it was going on

to find its way

but it is hard even to

really say

because I do not feel seen

because I do not feel heard

which is why I found the time

to write down my words.

when I left the church

it was very lonely

to be surrounded by that village

that has raised you since birth

and suddenly find that you do not

relate to their meanings

and in fact, find them empty

and in fact, find them wary

to be suddenly challenged by your

loneliness

to find a new life outside

everything you know

so you do not have to hide,

because you feel like your hiding

from those which you do know

because you find yourself not wanting

to tell those who you know

because you find yourself thinking

what they’ll say, you already know.

because what they’ll say

you would have said

before.

when I left the church

it was confusing

because now I know I do not know the way

but

when I left the church

it was also freeing

because my choices are my own

and a path hasn’t been chosen for me

and my mistakes are mine to own

and I didn’t fail my destiny.

when I left the church

I did so quietly

so quietly I wondered

how any of them knew

I still believed;

and yet I knew that they knew

that I still believed

because when I made this choice

I did it quietly

not because I know things

I didn’t know before;

but because I better know

myself --

and I do not know the lord.

-- c. m.

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dead in the dishes

“happiness lies in the consciousness we have of it” **

so, I sit here and strive

to be fully conscious.

wow how I’ve wished

to be so alive --

yet the wishing

and the wanting

kept me bottled

in a prelude

to my life.

I was 24 years old before I chose to be alive.

All of this time

I’ve spent,

spending it up,

doing the dishes

just to get the cup

for my tea -

not just

doing the dishes.

only

waiting to live

in the after -

after the dishes -

and so being dead

in doing the dishes;

in all the moments wasted.

there are always more dishes.

I was dead:

by the wishing

by the wanting

by the dread --

I never learned to live –

does that mean I was dead?

now I am learning

to be alive

in each and every moment

of this ongoing life

and the wishing

and wanting

it is answered

in the daunting

task

of simply being here.

my life is not going to start

when I do this

when I do that

my life is not going to better

when I do this

when I do that

my life continues now,

and in every now

I may choose something better -

like living in the dishes

and living in the cup

of tea

that you got from doing the dishes

afterward.

does this make sense?

it does to me –

I’m living now

in this writing

letting go of the old idea of me

living in the now.

accepting the new

accepting what is.

what is true

is what is now –

and now I am alive.

**1st line is a George Sand quote

[cortadomug]

is this freedom?

how freeing it is to lose that Faith

-- & how dreadfully awful it was

to lose that self within the Self

so carefully built over years

of tears,

of pain.

how strange it was to doubt without guilt

when I woke up this morning.

how nice it is

to use my brain

to think my own thoughts

without guilt just for the thinking.

what a strange and arbitrary god you serve

to give me such a mind as mine,

yet not permitting me to press the ON switch !

what a fragile system

to resort to the

condemning of my doubt,

hiding of the answers

to the pain

and to the spirits

that take away my peace

how freeing it is to exist as I am

to think without guilt

to consider my life as my own

to consider my choices

and own them

without begging for the elusive Self

the hiding Spirit - -

to guide me down some path

whence I know not where.

how freeing it was when I set aside

my begging

yet how awful it was

to lose my friend

to lose my god

to lose that form of peace

my entire purpose

my life’s work and path

and I walked away.

yet how freeing it is!

to be open and shameless

before this Spirit

I cannot believe I am destined for hell

if It gave me such a mind as mine

& if I am guilty

then how hopeless it must be

to please It.

Father, Father;

do not forgive me if I have sinned

for that has no meaning

to me !

Father, Father;

explain it to me instead

shine light where there is darkness

let the truth create a peace

in the doubt that eats my soul.

I don’t want to be forgiven

for using my own mind

let me understand

the meaning of my rhyme

let me understand !

why I have spent all my life !

running to -

begging for -

You.

is it freedom

I have found -

or is it sin ?

is it possible to know the difference?

all I can say

is how freeing it is!

yet how terrifying;

yet how awful;

yet how confusing;

to use this mind such as mine

to be the one taking over my life!

is this freedom ?

I don’t know yet.