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01/01 Direct Link
Just a note to self.
I love the looks of this.
The size and shape, the color and form.
It is ample.


There is no place I would rather be, than here.
No place where there is this closeness.
This soft dark.


Something touches my foot
like a rat.
something soft
something with little fine hairs.


Could you come with me?
could you ask me my name,
my place, my date?
Could you give me food for thought?


Just a note to self.
I love the looks of this.
the size and shape, the color and form.
It is final.


01/02 Direct Link
Somewhere Jesus stands and calls my name,
I see him,
his outstretched hand
fingers slightly curled
beacons.


He needs friends.


Like us,
He is lonely
and afraid.


He fears for us,
for me and you.
He fears that we will fall.
We will fall
and not know why.


He wants us to at least,
know why.


I can see steps
layers like snow
falling
stepping
leading
to now.


We must know why we fall.
We must know.


Step leads to step.
Process unleashed
by us.


We must know why
why we have ended.


We must know
and not know again.
01/03 Direct Link
I prepare for the end.
For a time when man is not
as man is now.

Many prepare.
They sit upon piles of bullets
and guns
and ways to kill or be killed.

They want to shoot the hungry
the poor
the people of color and gender,
and people who look at the sky,
who look at the sky and see a different face.

I am preparing for the end.
For a time when cars do not run
and food comes from the ground
and there is no tv
or money
or fame for the few.

The time is soon.
01/04 Direct Link
I dreamed last night
that the hills close by here,
had turned red.
Red as the dust of Mars.

and upon those hills roamed the remainder.
the last of the grimed face of man.

There was a terrible eye in the pale sky
that looked down at man
as a crocodile might look.

and the eye stared bright
and glowing
and still.

and the eye found man.

the eye stared yellow and profound
and glared straight as arrows into man's skin,
and found man lacking, yet again.

Cold is the eye of the reptile
cold and alien and profoundly wise.
01/05 Direct Link
Should you stop someday and consider
the wonderful brightness of time.
Should you consider the echoe it makes
when it passes you by in the dark...

Remember then that you heard of it
here.
Remember then that it pricked your soul,
and you met the dark
and the dark met you,
and the stars saw it all and did not care.

It was not the end
not really, by far.

But something more, Something more liquid... familiar.
Something that clenched inside you,
something that called and seduced
and ruined you.

Something unreal.

Remember someday that you heard of it here.
01/06 Direct Link
Now the eyes are watching
. and they see what we do,
. they calculate
. and add us,
. and seek to delete us.
.
. Now the eyes, like grim reptiles,
. they glare like fine coals.
. The eyes are everywhere
. like additions and totals
. that monitor our progress with strange angles and
.geometries and hollows
. and time.
.
. We are but pin pricks
. on a the page of their numbers
. the ends of equations
. and the outcomes of signs.
.
. We do not amount
. or complete
. or add too...
we are not worthy
. of numbers
. or totals
. or the ends of equations
.
. that started of old.
.
01/07 Direct Link
I try to grow food.
And so do many others.

We creep at the soil
and wonder at it's mysteries.

Is this the image of the end?
the imagine of lightning or a fern's breath upon us?

will we cry for tv?
or ipod or food?
Will we cry for water or warmth or fuel?
where are the roads and the cargoes of strife?

Add it up like beans
or grains of rice.

Add it up as though it meant death
or life.

Do you have water
or food for tomorrow?

do you care?
Do you wonder?
Do you prepare?

01/08 Direct Link
God, let it end,
this simple seizure of words and ideas,
let it finally end.

Let the limbs of trees, maples and oaks,
cover us.

Allow pale pale blue sky
with strings of clouds and errant birds
and the fog of wrath to surround us.

Let it be done, oh God, let it be done,
let it be done and we shall see and feel and accumulate the sciences of the other,
the other people.

do not worry or concern yourself with the loss
of our genetic code. It is repeated over and over beyond the stars.

You must believe.
01/09 Direct Link
In a dream I saw a man,
he was the color of fire.

He walked bare and shining
across soft red hills.

He talked to God.

He moved his bright hands across his eyes
in a gesture of despair, a shimmer of dimensions
haloed where his hand moved
and lit his forehead as he walked.

Little dead birds littered the dusty ground,
the remains of birds
fallen from the dry thin air,
Preserved in dust
their feathers traced bright lonely halos.

They whispered goodbye to God.

In a dream I saw a man,
he was tall and burned like fire.
01/10 Direct Link
What is this? she asked looking at the dark
shimmering bead in her hand. What could this be?

He came around her, circling her, waiting for her to recognize the strange black and silver bead.

She did not know what it was.
He waited, smoothing her hair.
tracing the gentle curve of her jawline,
denounce your master, the dark man whispered. You are a witch.

She had arrived before the 13th.
before the day of the devil.
The dark man had lighted the fire,
he had wanted her,
but could not have her,
and thus,
be tries to burn her.
01/11 Direct Link
There is a troubling place near here
where a spring has ripened out of the ground.

a place where whenever I pass by
I grow sick and confused.
A tall hill, dark with trees,
and a little spring,
like a mouth trimmed in stones.

I think I may have lived there
many years ago.

Nearby, the church contains all the secrets,
or,
they'd like to make you think they do.
actually,
you do.

YOU, contain the secrets of heaven.
they never want you to know this.

YOU, hold the truth.
that is the secret they want to keep from you.
01/12 Direct Link
Donít wait for me, if we have to run.
donít look behind and reach for me.
Just run, run. I will be ok.

I will find you, I will catch up.

The hills behind this place are not too steep
I can run up them and hide among the trees and brush.
Or perhaps the little hollow among the rocks, the one that looks like the mouth of a cave?
I could hide there, if we become separated.

You, you much go on, and find a way to survive.

I will find you later,
I will catch up.

I will.
01/13 Direct Link

THEY took the neighbors today.

I was afraid they might since Ron and Agnes protested in town last month, in the gasoline protest.

They canít afford to drive to work, but they went to town, on bicycles.

they held their signs, and asked for more.

may we have some more please?

more gas for our car?

more heat for our home?

more food?

THEY took them before dawn, I heard a noise and looked out, peering from behind the curtains,

listening to Agnes cry, Ron bellowing.

I went to the closet and crept inside and in the dark,

fell asleep.

01/14 Direct Link

Sometimes, when a storm is coming, the leaves on the maple tree flip up and the tree looks like silver.

Itís something to do with the air currents I know, but I think sometimes it looks like a warning. Like hands waving in frantic gestures. Prepare, seek shelter, a storm approaches!

the mountains in the distance are dark, and far away,

I doubt Iíll make it, there is so much anger between where I am, and where they are.

I doubt Iíll make it.

But the trees are warning me,

and he is waiting,

and I know I must try.

01/15 Direct Link
I waited all day to get here, here to this quiet place,
I was prevented...
When I finally had time, the electronics rebelled, when the electronics submitted, time was gone. I wanted to tell you, about the trip to town where the dead roam the stores and shop from habit.
I wanted to tell you of the sound they make, standing in line, waiting to leave one store only to find another.
I wanted to tell you of the size of their SUV hearses, and the depth of their sunken eyes. But time and electronics conspired, I had to wait.
01/16 Direct Link
We walk along the edge of the beast, making our way down, down, down....
We cannot see the beast, itís great mouth swung open,
We cannot see the danger we are in.
We are hypnotized.
By the tv flashes, one...two...three...
the car wheels' whine over wetness....
whiz and splatter..
money changes hands and we,
sleep.

Around us the beast moves silent and unseen,
his breath comes quickly with dreams of the kill.
We must wake up. We must run from the mouth of the beast from the twining red tongue.
Run, run, run,
while there is still time.
01/17 Direct Link
Outside, the sky burrows downward. Heavy and full it dips and swarms about the house and rattles the door with flakes and pellets of snow and ice. Roar wind roar in your growly voice, roar and wander... Other than the wind, the world is quiet. Not a twitter or squeak or chirp to hear. Anywhere. No murmur of voices human or animal, no machine turns a wheel. Quiet. Quiet and peace at last. The peace of the grave. The peace that comes after the avalanche, the tidal wave, the dead quiet after a storm or quake. Quiet, quiet at last.
01/18 Direct Link
The rain comes in through a hole in the roof. It drips and squirms down through a widening gap in the floorboards and finds itís way, cold and stained with rot onto the ceiling above me and down into a pan. Drip, drip. A shivering dark tea gathers in the pan. Ringing like a tiny gong until water gathers and muffles it.
Splatter, ping, drizzle comes down. Cold and merciless the winter sky rings the visible horizon in a gray-blue fleece. I build up the fire with boards pulled from upstairs walls and burn my castle to stay warm.
01/19 Direct Link
I found another dead bird today. I grew excited. How long? How long had it lay in the mangled weeds outside? I touched it with my toe, a dark dull thing it was. A crow. Itís once gleaming black a flat black smudge on the ground. Turning it I realized it had lain there for a long time. Long enough to slowly wither and leave only skin and feathers and whistle thin bones.
It had died some time ago.
I remember warm summer nights and bats tumbling against the deep sky.
I remember breezes of summer perfumes.
I remember....
01/20 Direct Link
My old neighborís house sat upon a low hill just across the way. Up the narrow lane and around the curve. Iíd known I would have to go there eventually and I knew what I would find.
The night the shooting woke me from a shallow sleep, I knew. Enough time had passed now to cover it.

The scattering clouds seemed to fly like spirits across the cold sky and a weak winter sun pointed its pale finger fleetingly at me. ďYou, you, it whispered, why you?Ē
I took several bags, put on a coat, and headed towards their house.

01/21 Direct Link
I kept my head down. I stared at the ground, at the dirty road. I had put this off for far too long, but my supplies had run low and I had no other choice.
The door was slightly ajar and the wind had blown a little stream of dust inside, it lay like a welcome mat covered in mouse tracks and dry leaves. It was cold inside.
The only smell left was the faint odor of age. Aged cooking oil, like some old houses smelled from years of cooking. Aged clothing, and carpets and just plain life.
Aged death.
01/22 Direct Link
I went in, raccoons had been inside and rummaged through the overturned trash can. But that would have been over a year ago. The raccoons were long gone, moved to the mountains I supposed. Other than that, there were few signs of any other intrusion.
I moved quickly to the cupboards, anxious to get this over with. The squawk of the hinges hung in the air like a accusation. ďThief, vulture, grave robber!Ē
I waited and tried to catch my breath. The air was so dry. I wanted to cry but couldnít find the way, it had been too long.
01/23 Direct Link
There was little on the cupboard shelves, I suppose they had eaten all they had before deciding surviving just wasnít worth it.
I found one can of kraut, and half a pack of saltines The crackers I greedily crammed into my mouth, dry though they were it was a feast.
There just wasnít much of use left here. So I headed up the stairs.
Sunlight bathed the top of the stairs and with every step, the air grew warmer. Upstairs was where they would be. Hesitating, I sniffed for signs of decay. It was gone. There had been enough time.
01/24 Direct Link
The upstairs was neat and orderly, just like they had always kept it. I could imagine my neighbor methodically going about the business of making sure her house was in order before laying down to die.

Nothing but the silvered dust dangling in the shafts of light and the cold quiet.
I noticed the bedroom door was closed. I did not open it. In the sitting room in the front of the house was her violin. Still sitting on itís stand, the bow hanging on itís hook. I gently picked it up and began to play.

Goodbye old friend, goodbye.

01/25 Direct Link
Down below the rim of the hills
the hollow is dark and full of silence.
even the birds do not go there.

How has this happened to us?
Why didnít we see it coming?
Or did we, and seeing it, turned away.

I donít remember now how it came about.
How this emptiness came upon us
while we slept our souls away.
One day, it was over.
One day we awoke to find everything finished.

The cars were still and empty of their fuel, trucks stopped delivering,
people stopped buying, stopped talking, stopped loving and caring.

Everything finally just stopped.

01/26 Direct Link
"These are the times that try menís souls." Who said that?
I donít know although I believe I once did. Whoever it was, must have had times like these in mind.
Whoever it was must have looked forward with some seeing glass and saw these dark silent times. Hell is not filled with gnawing and gnashing of teeth.
It is filled with silence, and stillness. It is filled with the memory of once caring, once striving for something greater. It is haunted by the memory of having been something better, something more than a shell,
more than a dim remembrance.
01/27 Direct Link
People simply lay down and stopped.

No one cared. They didnít care when the weather turned mad, they didnít care when the oil ran out, they didnít care when the food disappeared from shelves, they didnít care when the last of the soldiers came and murdered the last of their citizens, and then the soldiers didnít care and they too lay down and just stopped moving.
It was as if all of humanity was suddenly gripped by a sadness so profound that is withered and broke the souls of man and we fell into a sorrow that became our grave.

01/28 Direct Link
I donít think anyone would have believed that things would turn out like this.
We just got tired.
Tired of arguing, tired of trying to figure out who among the leaders was telling the truth. Exhausted from unraveling what interests were served by what truths we believed and on and on until nothing could be believed anymore. Nothing could be taken as truth and acted upon. The world turned into quicksand and we were swallowed up in the rings and layers of lies.
The few voices that spoke out, were silenced.

A great stoic force proceeded according to ITíS plan.

01/29 Direct Link
ITíS plan proceeded until this was the only outcome left. This outcome of silence, and stillness. Was it nature turned against us? Was it some evil consciousness stalking us through millennia intent upon our destruction?
Had that been the cause?
Or was this our own blind doing?
Had we done this to ourselves with no help needed from anyone or anything?
The horror of it was, we all died without knowing. We all just stopped.
Towards the end, we turned to one another and just knew.

Some committed suicide.
Some just lay down and waited to die.
Some became ghosts.

01/30 Direct Link
I suppose this is how it all ends.
With giving up, giving into, giving away.
It was after all a spiritual thing that happened to us.
Humanity heaved a great collective sigh of relief in the end and thanked God, all the striving was over. We walked up to the wall that separated us from the void and passed willingly through it.
We were happy in the end.
Some of us.
Some, like I, linger on, and pass through the ruins of what was left and try and remember.
Try to put it all together into a memory of ourselves.
01/31 Direct Link
I walk back from my neighborís house, the rain slides perfectly into the ground beneath me.
I carry a little bag filled only with thoughts and reflections of people I once knew and loved, I try to keep them intact and separated so they will remain forever true.

I wish we could all come back and try again to be human.
Once more to know touch, and sound and feeling. We had cherished those things too little and they were taken away.
Or maybe we gave them away, I donít know,
but I try to remember,
I try to remember.