Monday, April 8, 2013


as collage 9

i bleed for the dead child
mutilated by its own kind
its true identity withheld no desires
or wanting
lost somewhere in the 4th dimension
acquiring a sort of cosmic consciousness
new energy from the sun
lost in a net of changing weathers
intensified kaliyuga satya
missing spirituality
poisoned by medicines
maimed & crippled shown no
yet arising with a new energy
 not thru politics but thru music / the shape of music
& using this music as a vehicle of transcendence
& using this vehicle as a means of resurrection

as collage 10

i lost minutes today
& although they were not my minutes
they belonged to me bought & paid for
i saw someone tonight who may have understood
the difference between trying too hard
& trying hard not to try too hard
i’d love to skydive
but i don’t want to be an elephant
i’m not sure i want to be a gospel singer
but i know i wouldn’t want to be a

as collage 11

if the bread is roses
& the roses bread
& saint such- is-life is
& you can’t be more than you are
what should you do?
i would say give up trying
but this comes from an observer
not a doer
& many would disagree
& most doers never know that they
can’t get beyond their mediocre selves
or their own individual footprint
heartbeat.. & that their individual
traits are so much like so many others’
individual traits

the museum makes you look @ things
the way it looks at things
the museum makes you value things
the way it values things.

as collage 12 (for j.f.)

the father in the corner
corner one letter away from
the glue finally come undone
the mother entrusting her memories
to me
because after hyperventilation & separation
it is up to her to hold it together
the pieces slowly coming undone
there is no room for details today
she holds her teddy bear
the lover soon to be dismissed
crying looking bewildered alone
joking about the dark limo we are about
to enter
thinking it better if it were taking us to
kosco than the burial ground
the sister laughs & cries
the husband no longer to be
is saluted presented a coat of arms
then carried away

the way it wants you to look @
things / value things
like here in the cemetery
where there really is no symmetry
except death & morning


  1. Wow. I read it and felt like I'm reading a deep thought of somebody who has been so introvert and as if now he got the chance to speak his heart through this article. Wonderful.

    Best Regards,
    Henry Jordan
    The Equation Game

  2. I'm having a cup of hot kopi luwak and reading John M. Bennett's blog post. Feeling like I'm reading a reality of every individual who doesn't even know about himself.