Life of Pi, life of Leela...

(upon attending a discussion, concerning a movie, looked upon 
with Freudian Analysis)

Life of Pi 
     Life of Leela... 

We all have Tigers
     in our boats 
Some of us fight harder 
     than others 

Some might acquiesce 
     and let the Tiger 
          eat us 

The Tiger being God- 

     as much 
     or as little 
     as anything 
          else

Let the Tiger 
     eat us 
     in the beginning 
to save ourselves 
     the trouble 
     of all that 
          training 

Or let the Tiger drown 
     don't build him 
     a g**-damn ladder!

Carnivores and 
     Vegetarians 
Approach things 
     from different 
          angles 

Eastern and Western 

You have a knife and 
     an oar 
Which would be a spear-

Kill the Tiger 
Tan his hide 
     for a blanket 
          for a cape 

I come from the 
     West 

-But the Tigers in 
     my boat 
          don't die 

Nor do they seem 
     to be trainable 
I throw them fish, 
     tidbits and treats 

They laugh- 

We travel together 
We dance 
We dream 

I dream 
     of one day 
being able to train 
     my Tigers 

Befriend them 
     maybe even 
          pet them 

They devour me... 

It is the story 
     of us all 

Sometimes 
     they leave me 
          alone 
Long enough 
     to escape 
to float and fly 
     and expand 
     into light 

Maybe they drive 
     me to it 
Maybe I should 
     thank them 
          for it 

I only need to 
      escape
      more often 

-We reflect back-
     Tigers, boats, oceans, 
          egos...

The Buddhists talk of 
     mirrors 

-of cleaning 
     mirrors 

-of reflections in 
     pools 

-of the moon in 
     a cloudless 
          sky 

Why? 

wax, philosophically

panic, panic, panic
all afternoon 
I work- 
access denied- 
can't access blog- 
all my work 
     gone for naught- 
naught- 
naught-
naught- 

again I try 
reset this
     and that 
deny, deny, deny

I swear off 
     computers- 
I swear off 
     writing- 

I wax philosophically 
about the old days...
-living in the DIRT!

ok,,, over emotional 
I suppose... 

but life has been 
a challenge lately 
and if I can't talk to 
     blog...
what then?

God's fish net

Trying to catch

The goldfish with a net

And they weren't having any

Of it

They have evaded 

Raccoons for too long

To be easy prey 

For me

Even though they were being taken

To a better place

A newer, better pond 

I've made

They were running scared

Swimming hard 

To evade 

Their fate

I couldn't tell them

About the better place

They could not hear
With their goldfish
Ears

And I reflected

Pausing-

Net in hand-

Maybe that's like 

We are

Humans here 

Upon the earth

When we have to move on
When we are called to go
To that better place
And all we can do is run
-swim as fast as we can
To avoid god's net
Calling us home
Catching us
Holding us
Lifting us
To join our goldfish friends
Who have already
Gone

Dear iPhone

Dear iPhone ;  (written on the iphone)
Tomorrow u will be with me in court
But u will be silenced
No ringing to disturb the judge's gentle ears
Will he be there?
The tire slasher, window breaker

The one who professes to be
So innocent...

And with me will be
My knight

The One with the shinning armor
And the dancing, snorting steed...

The One who has stood by me
(Even when I asked him
To leave)

The One who seems to care about me
Maybe like no one ever has

The Gods send us lessons,
Some say-
Cloaked in coats and shirts
Of many colors

So iPhone,
You'll be with me
Helping to record
The way this most difficult
Of lessons
Will unfold
With many forms and filings
And so many copies
Of same

-Tango-

-there is a poignancy 
in this 
this dance
a sad and heart stirring  
sound 

invented by boys
-young men- 
far away from home 

with no hope 
-of returning 
and in the days 
when love 
was forbidden

no family 
no hope 
no caresses 

I see it now 
I dance with young 
and old 

how long will I dance 
be able to 
how long will I dance 
with you 

our days are precious 
together 
we both are 
not young 

the dance is like that 
it calls us 
to the moment 
to stand together 
in time 

to hold each other 
against 
the long, dark 
night 

in the beam of the 
lamplight 
life
turns towards itself 
towards each other 
it tenderly embraces 
and moves through 
time 

being still in 
the moment 

how long will we 
last 
how long will we 
dance 

while the complexity 
of the modern world 
whirls 
around us 

those who don't know 
the simplest thing 
need to 
learn it 

for it is in the 
center of that space 

that there is 
a connection to 
grace  

The Embrace...

Now that 
     an illness 
          is passing 
We are weak 
     but we are 
          game 
Almost ready 
     to get back 
     into it-
          again

My Tangueros 
     Maybe they 
          have missed 
          me 
     Maybe they 
          will be 
          eager
To dance with me 
     again 

Ah the Smokey Tavern,
     (ok, without the smoke;
      it's banned)
The music will play 
     again 
And the magic 
     will be made 
The way prepared-
     for walking 
          on clouds 

The Embrace 
     of a lover 
The Embrace 
     of a mother- 
          to a babe 

The fancy footwork 
     is one thing
          -fun
But the Embrace 

Oh, my dears
     Oh my Tangeros 

The Embrace... 
     

damn...!

No,
I'm not 
waiting 

-for you to 
call- 

No I never 
wait 
at all- 

I'm trying to 
remember 
What the "wise people" 
say 
In the books 
about this...
relationships- 

do I call 
do I wait 
do I play 
     some game 
some set up
some clever 
     manipulation 
something "wise People" say 
     should be done 
at such a time 
such a juncture 
such a turning point 
in a relationship 
(starting to be 
taken for granted)
(beginning to be 
expected to be there)

Could it be that 
I've never 
gotten past 
     this point?
in a relationship 
-note to self-
never-
admit that!
  

and what you said 
the other day 
how could that possibly 
have been 
appropriate 
in what world?
on whose planet?
Do we talk about 
     this?
Do I yell and scream?
Do I walk the floor...
(I should be walking it 
with a broom)
Do I write about it?
Which does help,
     but not very much. 
Do I profess
     not to care?
I'm treading air
     here. 

How could all this trouble 
be 
possibly 
worth it?

oh yeah,
I forgot 
the 
blue 
eyes...

     damn...!