…from…notebooks…

Another entry from my journals…….

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MESSAGES FROM THE FUTURE #19

MESSAGES FROM THE FUTURE


I feel gravity.

The invisible net
cast over me.
Weighted to hold me down.
Resistence to slow me down,
pressing in on me,
flattening me,
doing its very best to squeeze
and crush the breath out of me.

Having tried to think of God
as freedom, boundless, expansive
Creator of endless possibilities ………

What if God is merely the cage?
The trap, or pen, to corral all that IS free.
A reaction to regret.
Regret of even imagined freedom.

The body is the cage of the spirit.
Gravity is the cage of the body.
Invisible bars to restrain and hold back
the abandoned Tower of Babel.
Like the word cages and traps the idea.
In the beginning was the word…and the word WAS God.

Maybe Atheism is the cure for God!
The destruction of gravity’s cage.
The release of the spirit; free-flying bird.
The soaring on eagles wings.
Seeing, comprehending, knowing
beyond words.

The perfection of silence –
The unspoken truth of all things.
Silence: all that ever was, is and will be.
That perfection that comes immediately after
the last sizzle of water extinguishing flame.
The beauty of darkness and quiet.

Silence has no gravity.

 

 

******* About the artwork: Messages From the Future (created 2013) is a digital, photo-based creation intending to question the spoken and written word. It highlights the paradoxical viewpoint of language as both lie and life simultaneously. A self-negating notion. “Silence is golden.”

…from the mobius faith notebooks…

I am not a poet

I am just

Just a man

A man who finds it difficult to live and express himself in the realm of the obvious.

I am not a poet

I am just

Just a man

A man who struggles

Struggles and wrestles to see words that are not pictures and read pictures that are not words.

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eyes closed

inhale

exhale

exhaustion

inhale

exhale

feel the tension shift

thoughts

worry

inhale

exhale

feel the tension shift

pre-occupation

future past

inhale

exhale

feel the tension shift

inability

resignation

inhale

exhale

feel the tension shift

rise

fall

inhale

exhale

feel the tension shift

tightening

ache

inhale

exhale

feel the tension shift

holding

holding, holding

inhale

exhale

feel the tension shift

numbing

release

inhale

exhale

feel the tension shift

unclenching

gift of open palms

inhale

exhale

feel the tension shift – relax

laxing

re-laxing

inhale

exhale

emanations spread out in time and space

A memory…

I’ve been reading  SEEDTIME, writings from the notebooks of Swiss poet Phillipe Jaccotet. His writings about the swiss countryside bring back so many memories. Memories of growing up on the farm near Kidron, OH (USA) So here are some thoughts of my own:

Murmured Lowing. Distant cowbells. Waking sparrow.
The light is dark at dawn.

Blue-black sky. Green-black landscape. Summer morning.
Fence post sentinels line the pasture lane.

Early to bed, early to rise. Morning chores beckon. Lids heavy slow response.
The bed is warmest when waking.

My Grandfather used to make trips to Switzerland our ancestral homeland and in 1948 he had a set of cowbells made that covered at least two octaves on the western musical scale. Here is an image of one of our family’s cowbells that I’ve been able to salvage. Not sure what happened to the rest. Bells were cast in Bronze, included the family name (Geiser), date (1948), image of a cow and decorative Edelweiss flowers, the text “Made in Switzerland” and name of the foundry where bell was cast (Barinotto Co. Fonderie La Chaux De Fonds)
bell smlr

And what do cowbells sound like? What sound became so familiar to me during summer?
(fyi – there is a 20 second gap in sound near the beginning).