Take Everything

Grind up the sausage, inner gears grind out a hollow form. Form whom the school bell tolls.

"Jazz is not a what, it is a how. If it were a what, it would be static, never growing. The how is that the music comes from the moment, it is spontaneous, it exists in the time it is created. And anyone who makes music according to this method conveys to me an element that makes his music jazz."
- Bill Evans

Naive native girls are overdressed jazz and undersexed blues. Their Confucian grounded modesty is outnumbered by males 16-1. Terrible short and long odds speaking of strange cosmic relationships.

"Text me baby and I will reveal deep secrets of lust and desire," she keyed while masking her public face.

As a Socialist sociologist in a Shanghai university in a perverse universe remarked in an education publication, "In Chinese schools the conventional wisdom is that people shouldn't ask questions, they should simply take. Many, many students can't think for themselves. That's a huge problem."

Feast

In the meadow Lao men
Slaughter a cow

Apocalypse Now
Tribal feast
Beast of burden
A sledgehammer on skull
Knife
Gut it clean simple
Light streaks sky with low murmurs
No songs or musical instruments
Men hack skin tendons muscles
Women stoke fires
Tribes gather for the feast

Shadow of white butterfly
Voices ebb and flow
Cuticles trimmed
Floating world’s river
Mercenary butterfly shadows
River language

Grow Your Soul

Khene in Laos

Musician and his handmade Khene in Nong Kieu, Laos.

He said they are played at funerals and flutes are played at weddings. He said it is difficult to impossible to make and only ten men in Luang Prabang can make it. Neither his grandfather or uncle could make it.

It has a haunting, beautiful sound.

Playing his flute.

Grow Your Soul

Grow Your Soul, a new book of poems and esoteric magic is now on Amazon.

Paperback and Kindle editions. Transcribed from a journal Sept 2016- August 2017.

Live broadly, write boldly.

Enjoy the ride. You're on it once. 

Cambodia

Passions Torture Humans

From the Verba Seniorum (The Word of the Ancients): Two wise men who lived in the same chapel in the Sahara desert, were talking one day. "Let's fight so that we don't become disassociated from the human being, or we will end up not understanding properly the passions that torture him", said one.

"I don't know how to begin a fight," said the other.

"Well, we will do the following: I am putting this brick here in the middle, and you say to me: it's mine. I will answer: no, this brick is mine. Then we will begin arguing and we will end up fighting".

And so they did. One said that the brick was his. The other argued, saying it was not.

"Don't let's waste time over this, keep this brick," said the first. "Your idea for a fight was not very good. When we perceive that we have an immortal soul, it is impossible to fight over things".