Fishhook #hastag

FISHHOOK #HASTAG

Fishhook

First cast

First piercing

Of the heart 

Of the soul

First Frost

Rime Ice

everything fractals

To the end of time

Everything sprung

Pulled 

Back in by spider’s pull

Spun in a wrapper

Of its own

Its own rapper

1111

CHOICEPOINT 

Standing before the choice point becomes the reality of the day and moment

Choosing the time first, then the direction, then the means, each matters

Narrowing each, stacking them like Lincoln logs or these days Legos

Hard to use the word or thought balance just yet but necessary.

The butcher stands before the slaughtered carcass 

Becoming an artist on the delicatessen line drawing the shape

Of finesse out of raw meat (only you need to stop reading here) a design

Becoming a set of suggestions hidden in the warm wood the cold hard stone.

Each point becomes a person, a tool, a semblance, a positioning of the artist’s

Tool, the diamond cutter stands before the gem, preferred edge emergent

The light filtering through ever more truly more clearly defined

Before the raised hammer, the poised chisel, the cut.

Hidden no more the very fact of life not now about

To disappear but ready now to jump boldly into sharply etched

Perfection, returning again and again to artistry and agency to choices

Made and celebrated because Yes, even like this one they give Different Life!

The answer is Yes!

Just Now

Answer No!

You know how

The the answer is No!

Not just yet

Answer Yes!

Place another wager, Bet.

                                              mcj2020:0917

Acorn

 Acorn

I want to say 

No time

No time for poetry today

But I can’t 

This is poetry after all

It is poetry

Everything and Time

And Space

As well

At the same time 

In the same place.

Finally come the Poets

Finally come the Prophets

Finally comes the Peace

And we Move on,

Shame to lose the Meme

To PeaceMaking Marketing

Don’t let go

Finally come the Poets.

Propinquities

PPDialogues 

i 

Prologues of propinquity

Again All, time and space

And speed have values

Of here and there, relationship,

Of now and then, directionship,

Of energy and mass, Voice and POWER.

Surely the Presence is in this Place

ii 

Lost required before there be Found

Markers, the Cairns that Croft the Journey

Until it can be lost too, they vary by Terrain

The Alternate is oft but that of form

The Blaze, the #Hashtag, the semaphore,

Morris Code, whistling language, Calendars

Some without numbers others without weeks

Months or years, majesterium overlap and leap.

Now we are adjusting the pace, so you don’t 

Fearing both alternatives and knowing neither therefore

You drop other markers of gender, age, 

We are all still Curious Bricoleurs, we are Here Now.

iii 

I have begun the series

     Made a deposite in the same talent chamber 

           Who said when it comes when it now is?

                  Free yourself now, free you are, free we is.

The Chrysanthemum now rides in the place of honor 

      You don’t have had to have been from the beginingness 

             And as long as you can access the agency

                    Free you are at Last, Lost but now Found

Free Agency is only another word for Freedom

       I don’t want your revolution if there is no water

              The water if there is true belief the bread

                   Unless there is Life, and Dance and Song.

Now own what’s going on

       Now taking it on-going

              Now one in the many

                    Now many in the one.

mcj2020:0811

Mark C. Johnson

Insurrectionary

 Insurrectionary

Putting the questions in the right order makes a difference in the answers you get

And yesterday was a day of examining the questions again to test that logic.

What do you want to tell the world?? Asks the Answer using too much punctuation 

The query horse of the Hospice Posse. I ask what do you want to ask the world?

I am the one who has the right to ask questions

     Because I take it

          So are you

               If you do.

I do hope you feel good today!!!

     I do hope you feel today

         The first cumulus clouds

               After rain we all stop joyFULLedLY

I AM who you are, who I am, who you are.

We cannot talk to each other 

     Without invoking the name of God

            (Be with you, til we meet again)

      Or the name of Fuck

             Well actually I can

              I use you and me

                   Thee and Thou would still work too

I am the one who has the right to ask questions

     Because I take it

          So are you

               If you do.

Going Home

 Going home.  We move from hospicer to hospice posse and all the posse permutations

That are possible. It is our calling, our vocation, one person rolls over and the next one in. 

You can see why these metaphors of matrices work so well, negotiating the new story, 

New narrative, assembly lines and robot rows humanized (as in monitored) a vocational.

Foreground vs. background which is richer, foreground man versus background nature

Richer whicher trope what language what Voice what Word which case what transposition 

Nurdle murdle polyurethane nuggets absorbing oil, what’s eating water what’s eating well

How deep is your Ocean Water is Life, picture a thousand words which picture would we eat?

Measure pressure, blood and capsule, Martha nurses, Mary rushes, bull Run and Roll

You never would have known a picnic dinner becomes Babette and roles out your Soul.

Save me, save me, save me, say farethee farewell with Chaucer now we march to heaven

Pilgrims, prances, Rudolph’s dancers, are our names our gifts, our mask and shields what Haven?

Accepting the Invitation to Begin

Accepting the Invitation to Begin

It is time, neither too soon nor too late,

Lest anticipation preclude the bloom

Take Now and let It blossom boldly

Neither lost in a glory now fading

Nor in a Now which never arrives

Because it is always held just beyond

What invites us at this very moment

To join each other in the holy Now.

Yes Ram Das's be Here Now triumph

Yes Thomas bearing pretense to false

Signs of witness and knowledge 

The woundedness we share is profound

But still the truth of pain is finally bound

To bring us back together where we began.

mcj2020:0909sinjab 

Small Acts

Small Acts

We each know I think

That the act is small

And simple no great call

Heard echoing on high

More a whisper in the ear

Resist by stepping aside

Stand up do not hide

Offer no salute or smile

A simple wash and dry

Of hands or feet a simple

Gesture of victory not defeat

Surprise at how it looks 

In hindsight from outside

To take a pinch of salt

To refuse to turn back

Plastic handcuffs burning eyes

These were easy choices

Little things next steps

Until they called them threats

Sent soldiers and police

Lined the streets with arms

Used bullhorns and shields

They made the larger gesture

And what began as small

Became big quiet and clear

A little thing for what is dear.

sinjab20200307 

How Deep Is Your Sleep?

How Deep Is Your Sleep?

The limbo/bardo bridge between 

The transition betwixt this life and the next

The much, the nothing, is swinging in the wind,

Suspension hung on pylons sky scraper tall

Public, private is one more critical than mine

Or yours? When does the journey begin?

Our lives are lessons to each other each a reach

Of similar import of export and retort, open report.

These are some of their lessons:

How much didactic is too much 

Resisting evangelical humiliation 

When humility is pursued, a passion

Inconsistent with the ultimate goal

Stand like a blinking roadside warning

Slow down speed up curves ahead

Can one even collaborate across

The divide, cross and return, rise and fall,

How do we coach and experience at once 

The despair and aspiration of ultimates?

Proteins, hydration, fiber, spine

Who keeps the faster in line who

Carries the cancer rebel to the end

And labeled by law as no friend though

In fact they are our double heroes

Keep him well fed as long as he will eat

Let go, permission giving day by day 

Read calories as well as sugar intake

Leave time to laugh at day’s end even

When the day begins (don’t too pious be).

[Remember to ask when a drink’s a friend,

There is NO RULE too stiff to bend.]

It can be hard to misconstrue how time

Shifts gears and directions distributing 

Drugs on a well defined and bound rotation 

But now forgetting day and dosage increase

The anxiety of what we want to measure and how?

And why? When does the Will to cross over exceed

Every other once, and now forgotten goal?

I am fast approaching that line and now legal

Stipulations redefine the outset ends (you’ll

Want to work that out one day societally.)

Given time enough and reason

This compendium could go on forever,

Psalm and psalter proverbs unwind

Leaving others so far behind Dear Abbey

And Miss Lonelihearts, I’m glad we’ve taken 

This long to come this far now carry on.        

     mcj2020:0902 

Hope Embodies Hope We Know

 Hope Embodies Hope We Know

I’d like to carry everyone over to the campfire’s edge

The swamps fetid edge to recite our tales to one another

Let everything go quietly until the end of day but you 

Are not there yet and so we’ll leap frog the tales like this.

Slow down and laugh do nothing on my behalf

(That’s still a lie of course, do carry on)

We interlocutory duo do devise a chorus of reprise

Even infinity does finally dissipate for the individual.

That was probably the design flaw from the start

It is an analogy at best defying oneness in everything

We should not have been allowed the argument 

And been more likely properly steeped in eternity.

mcj2020:0902