Alien:

A  Ask for signs to be given

L and they will be shown…

I The trick is to learn to Listen, for

E The Universe

N Answers not in Queen’s English

:

Haiku - Balance/selfishness

Up into the ether,

Down into the underworld:

Be perturbed

The Philosophy is Kindness

The philosophy is Kindness

I worked so hard to find this

Until I was ready to hear 

I walked in blindness:

The universe sings songs inside us

Sundays

In between aeons

In between styles

In between tram tracks and horse-drawn carriages

In between intercontinental flights and airport terminals

In between gas tanks and world wars

In between the pages of an Elven fantasy

and

The stage coach industrial propriety of this 

someplace other than here unreachable, unatttainable Then There

In between the repeatlessness of this eternal moment

and

The cogs of the clock that invented the internal combustion engine

In between the scream of a live birth

and

the laugh of a death’s exhalation

In between short skirts and long dresses

In between lazy flip-flops and fascist high heels

In between dimensions and the right to be woman, animal, Black

In between the leaves of trees of old world forests

In between the fashions and remixes and boredoms and ecstatic exhilarations

In between socialists and republicans, 

In between Christians and Moors

Where are we

Where are we

In between the wings of a butterfly causing an effect

In between repression and free love

In between the moaning, cracking continents slowly slamming together

In between the silken sticky strands of a spider’s web

In between the crew cuts of brain washed bullet resistant helmets

And 

the letting of hair to grow long with questioning and revolt

In between the way the animals seek out our warm, loving hands with their bodies

And

the way they run from us, fear us, hide from us

In between the theoretical atoms that make up 

That which moves in and out of what, theoretically, matters

Where are we

Where are we

Zoom in, zoom out

Fast forward, backtrack

And breath is the vehicle upon which we move into the next moment

In between the Gates of Eden, mystery, adventure and self-governance

and 

the Hell of suffering and unknowing, slavery

In between allowing the forgiveness, the go-letting, the gratitude, the blessing,

the knowing that there is something truly remarkable happening here that is 

more majestic and curious than the madness and sadness we get 

from being alive

and

feeling the misery of that miserly, slimy, heavy pointless 

meaninglessness

In between the safe, motherly arms of a creative caretaker

and

the cold, wet fingers of chilling loneliness, doubt and despair

In between the pages of History: safe and sealed Fake News Whatever!

Who Cares? We won! Hand us another Bud there, Sparky

In between the wizardry of pyramids and slowly built stone structures

and

the forced mechanical violations of sky: Scrapers

Where are we

Where are we

In between the desperate, starving, groping, clinging, hoarding lean times, 

the avarice and suspicion and cruelty of self-preservation

and

the gargantuan understanding, care, consideration, and compassion 

of sharing,

fearlessness, trust, surrender, abandon.

In between the heavy iron heaving smoke spewing cloud altering jet propulsion

of sardines packed tightly to save on expensive, diminishing, 

contracting space

and

mind-controlled levitation, song-fuelled golden crystal flying disks 

silently whisking along ley lines in 

the earth’s natural energy pathways; free minds, space expanding,

bountiful, abundant.

In between the myriad, countless nameless expressions of the Everything and Always,

Now and Forever, here and there and everywhere, 

in this reality and all the others

and

the dualism of the cut & dry, the chalk & cheese of polar opposites, 

you’re hot or you’re not, you’re in or you’re out, 

if you’re not with us you’re against us.

In between the 99 names for God

and

the mind that seeks to enforce one cross, one language,

one queen of English, Spanish, Dutch

In between this dream, this consensual reality, this so-called waking world

and

all the others, before me, after

me, on a Sunday.

Where are we

Where are we

Zoom in, zoom out

Fast forward, backtrack

And breath is the key that unlocks all doors

In between closing our eyes and travelling through darkness until

a voyage through the inner cosmos is revealed 

in light and swirling tryptamine beings, tripping bass loops, 

seeing and experiencing, learning and processing,

Knowing and understanding deeper and deeper one’s self, Alone

and

living with the silent acceptance that no one will ever read this story;

no one will ever see what or how I see, 

This: will go with me.

In between the arrogance of a mere man standing on a mega mountain

with his flag phallus neatly parked in, shoved in, the earth, his mother,

motherfucker, 

claiming her soil, 

claiming he can slingshot some wretched chimp beyond her life-embracing atmosphere

cracking bottles of some expensive sparkling abomination of the sacred grape 

While growing spare ears on the backs of damned mice, 

splicing stem cells from the aborted foetuses of abducted underage sex slaves 

to conjure vaccines and antibiotics and youth elixirs, 

claiming that your problem is that you’ve got cancer and they can cure it for you

OOps! No sorry, they can’t.  But here’s the bill anyway and it includes 

the cancer they sold you from the beginning

and

The giant unrolling, unfurling hidden Universe inside and outside,

Luminously involuting with its symmetries and imperfections,

its chaos and synchronicities, singing, dancing, witness only to 

Itself

HAAW-HAAW-HAAW-HAAAW  HAAAAAWW

Ancient Guffaws

Where are we

Where are we

In between the dream we have of our lives

and

The greatest disappointment,

-Breathing,

breathing.

In between the way we bow down in fawning, give our worship and praise to those

We know own money and property, even though it’s all delusion and debt,

As though this were a bonafide measure of the true weight and value of a being,

Give away the thousands of years of our accumulated knowledge into one huge collective selfie

and

The way we are blind to the humble beggar, wild ocean washed hair,

Barefoot enlightened, spiritually liberated, mind freed, sitting there on the sidewalk

Under the big tree where dogs piss and people spit and park their cars up on top of the old roots,

Just letting the music of God move through her head, her heart, her hands

On a Sunday.

Where are we