S a y i n g     g o o d b y e


Observe how threads wrap-around a ball.
to love is to become the one you love.

Bridgette here. It’s with a heavy heart I share with you Neil passed away earlier this month. He was a gifted poet, a dear friend, and someone I loved greatly. In his last letter to me, he wrote:

sleep is the little death
there is no fear in sleep

He was ready to go home. So many of us have been the recipients of his beautiful comments and unwavering kindness. Please leave a message below in honor of this wonderful poet, one of our own, who will be greatly missed. He offered this advice to me, and I share it because I know he means it to you too:

I do wish you continue to write and express yourself.  That is the single smartest most loving thing I can say to you.

Keep writing. This blog will remain right here and I’ll occasionally share with you tidbits from our years of correspondence. Neil will be missed by his dear Julie and all whose life he touched. Thank you for all you’ve given us dear poet. We will miss you.

Wishes are children.

My wishes are my children, the stars in my heaven surrounding me.

Walk in the rain

We had the chance to meet in person last Spring. Meet your mentors. Don’t hold back. Neil taught me to love B I G.

Neil’s little kitties.

l o v e   i s   a   b u c k e t

a short story for people who love threads.

 
i don’t like to say that what i’m doing here is writing love poem after love poem.    it would all sound so blurred-by-use, you know, not genuine.    but if you allow me to hold it this a’way, that’ll be fine by me.     honestly..
 
 
the story so far goes something like this.     one good idea turned into a thought and even though the thought may have changed along the way, when it landed it looked like a little boy.     boy became a bigger boy, repeat.     boy becomes an old man.     man sees colors.     man begins to wake.

observe how threads wrap-around a ball.

to love is to become the one you love.

 
love is a symbol.     you know, a figure or shape, representing something it itself is not.

love is a symbol for what is inside the bucket.     love is a symbol for everything that is outside the bucket.     so you understand, the word is not the thing inside the bucket nor is it the everything outside the bucket.     love itself is not described.

to see is to become the brush.

do you understand now how it is, you are loved

 
 
 

the far far shine of one star

heaven for stars

 
 
 
describe it for me please     a picture of your life history

several hundred thousand moments     maybe a million     maybe two

the first ever grilled cheese sandwich you ate     your great uncle Louis standing in front of the chrysanthemums     ceramic buttons that grew a kiss     the milky sky somewhere very close

night, when i was a kid     tilt your head back     look up

stars include wind     and

i feel stars feeling me     i am this one place here
 
 

here’s the part where we abruptly change our points of view     you are now a child, maybe eight or ten years old     you step outside the front screen-door, duck beneath the ambitious ivy, then all overhead, all far under my feet     gravity everywhere

 
 
          this is not a place to be lost

          this is a place to be found
 
 
 
 

b i g g e r  than  me

who you will become is who will catch you when you fall

 
 

what if you are how the universe loves itself?

 
 
that’s an easy question to glance across on the way, please please, to something else.   just don’t want to linger here, think and feel how i feel about considering this.   if that’s so for you, then please do move along as you might not like what’s coming next.
signify by raising your hand.

questions are henceforth implied

do you consider the universe as having a quality of consciousness

commonly we regard that the second most important question
although we are wrong     the question we think is first is

do you feel yourself as a conscious being   what evidence

do you regard every cell in your body as conscious

or is consciousness a function of the whole being

then who or what are you to the universe of existence
 
 
what is included within a thing, is that thing    implied
 
 
 

 
 
 
 

becoming an old man

here’s your choice     make colours big or go blind

i f e e l e v e r y t h i n g

i didn’t imagine this     i’m not sure what i did imagine
i knew i was getting older     another destination not yet arrived
i can wait     wait, no i can’t

disbelief and denials have run out of steam

now i look     seeing me     i am this mirror     i am an old man

me

i l i k e t h e r a i n t o u c h i n g m e

if no one else, rain wants my face

telling truth, like holding a breath, doesn’t long remain easy doing
have i distracted myself

hurt is more sticky than it was before

i love more now than i ever did before

the world is putting together two things that don’t fit together
the world is an ocean     everywhere     we are fish
that’s the job

t h i n g s i d o n ’ t d o t h a t i u s e d t o d o

crawl in the garden on my hands and knees
crawling anywhere on my hands and my knees!
painting the lattice-work frontyard fence
lifting heavy things to the top-most shelf
carry two heavy grocery bags upstairs at the same time
go for walks without regard for the terrain
          by terrain, i mean those damn hills     stairs too

so now, make my real, fit these Colors true

i am this me
 
 
 
 
image is
associated to the one word poem lighght, Aram Saroyan
brilliant work
 
 
 

n  o  n  e  s  e  n  s  e

Fifth Solvay Conference on Physics, October, 1927, Brussels, Belgium.  including Albert Einstein, Niels Bohr, Marie Curie, Born, de Broglle, Dirac, Heisenberg, Pauli and Schrodinger.        Heisenberg commented:
Through the possibility of exchange between the representatives of different lines or research, this conference has contributed extraordinarily to the clarification of the physical foundations of the quantum theory.  It forms, so to speak, the outward completion of the quantum theory. 
 
hint:     how this all relates is your job to fathom     mine is to make the waves

 

i f e e l e v e r y t h i n g

y o u l a n d e d i n m y w a v e s △ m y s l e e p i n g g r a v i t y ☖ r a i s e y o u r h a n d △ w a v e △ m e a n s m a k e y o u r s e l f c o n d u c t i b l e △ i l i v e f o r y o u r c o m p a n i o n s h i p △ i d o

f e a t h e r s f l o a t i n g a r e w a i t i n g t o m a k e a n e s t ☖ i w r i t e w o r d b y w o r d △ c r e a t i o n d o e s i t l e t t e r b y l e t t e r △ o n l y t i m e i s s e q u e n t i a l △ n e s t i s w h e r e i s l e e p

w h e r e d o s e n s e s a t t a c h ? △ s t i t c h e d o n l i k e P e t e r ‘ s s h a d o w a t t h e f e e t

i w r i t e f o r n o g o o d r e a s o n s △ b u t i s t i l l h a v e r e a s o n s i n m y p o c k e t ☖ i w r i t e b e c a u s e i p r o m i s e d

p e a c e t u r n e d u p s i d e d o w n i s g r a v i t y △ j u s t t h a t c l o s e △ j u s t t h a t e a s y ☖ o n e s m a l l e s t t r u t h , t h e r e ‘ s n o l o c k o n t h e d o o r t o H e l l △ y o u ‘ r e f r e e t o l e a v e a n y t i m e y o u w i s h △ o n l y r e q u i r e m e n t i s t h a t y o u F o r g i v e y o u r s e l f

i t i s o n l y a t t h e p r e c i p i c e t h a t w e f i n d a w a y t o c h a n g e ☖ w i l l c h a n g i n g h u r t ? △ i a s k r e p e a t e d l y △ m a y b e r e p e t i t i o n i s t h e p a i n

i w a n t t o f e e l f a l l i n g w i t h y o u ☆ y o u r f a c e s m i l i n g

m y f a c e i h a r d l y r e c o g n i z e

i f e e l △ t h e i m p a c t o f s p a c e s h e r e △ a s m u c h o r m o r e t h a n t h e m a t t e r i n s i d e t h e s p a c e △ a r e w e f i s h a f t e r a l l ? ☖ w h a t i s w a t e r ? △ a q u e s t i o n w e m o s t l y o v e r l o o k △ h o w ‘ s t h e s w i m m i n g f o r y o u t o d a y ?

i f e e l e v e r y t h i n g

 
 

    The present moment is filled with joy and happiness.
    If you are attentive, you will see it.

         Thich Nhat Hanh

 
 
☆ ☐ ☐ △ ▽ 𝖮 ☖ we love embellishment

my feathered friends, yes please, balance this into how you feel
  
 

commentary about writing this

what is this?  i’ve been fond of spaces, nothing by another name, for quite some while.  language is words spaced apart.  what about the spaces inside words?  yea, experimental would apply to this initial endeavor.  doubts abound.  but when i look, i see something i did not see before.  first rough draft would also apply.  no excuse however for not showing my work.  if this simply doesn’t fade away, more work needed to help it find its nest.  are these semaphores we’ve yet to fully translate?  looking helps.

thank you for reading.

samba pa ti


Santana      Samba Pa Ti       “Sacred Fire” Live Concert in Mexico 1993
 
 
 
 
there are a lot of things i am not.           one of them is a musician.

if i was.   if i could be.     this is what i would play for you.

there are many beautiful musical performances.   many.

but this.    this is the one that says how i feel about you.
 
 
 
 
forgive.   i no longer care so much about being polite.

dare i risk seeming sentimental?          i do.
 

      dance with me