~Death Rambles to Hell

Itt's sad again to run into my melancholy, unexpected distress now
 change, now, some added survival skills
slow is for me, ranged out comfortably, ticks are lost on others
change of atmosphere's Kelvin is never missed to my extremities
hands and feet, numb as hell
always noticed, always in mood to engage legendary futterwacken
 a lot is rarely noticed except by function, and some moods don't care
I got em spread out more consciously now, their essence comes
along a measure of energy singular or combined, mess kept separate
for messy minds in past and history tonight, the way back, unkind
SCAT FACT
Just feeling clear enough to quickly harmonize a frequency polyphonic
 energy vibrating at a certain rate, pace, or dynamic range is aligned
Right now I am on the tail of a big flop, in full polarity reversal
and nothing is very pretty about such a sight, felt invisible butt ugly
known only by new felt energy, heard by inner ear, with an inner eye.
ENERGY in a MOOD
But tonights mood strangely suggests I lost relational respect
after earlier today dramatically stating how much I need her
I felt so much pain over losing Renee I threaten suicide to her
and there's nothing odder one finds than desperate pretense
you know your going to face whatever, if your ruse misfires
but nothing could be expected to be greater for the magnitude
expressed in an actor's talent to be sincere despite negatives.
There's no honor gained by forgetting to de-stage in present
where reality exists and life is limited to existing processing
process existing like death ramble to hell
to make death early and merciful my answer
for what?
NOT THIS
Stephie's convincing me no matter what, she will not cheat.
That one is a real stormy pit with surging cold front coming
front surging in me, backside will wait until eye floods not
in dry whisps wheezing maybe, tired of crying over a girl.
WATERSOGGY
She convinced me with concurrent moods unfamiliar now.
I just feel the inevitable pain of being axed permanent like...
my inward horizon unseen yet felt beyond foggy notions
I've learned to trust even if wrong, for such errors instruct
us, to lessons of abstract nature to prepare the eventuality
of our escort to manifestations reflecting nothing familiar
old conditions overrun by abstract knowledge, now here
makes a new mood - so highly desirable.
I liked the old ones when she was still mine to have
it's worthy even if untrue for my dreams of any sanity
MOODED
grace, high and dry, less being fav...
The thought of losing her still bloody's floor with cardio
my chest wounds leave me broken without the sorrow
for I'd rather not end my days in a world without her
and I'm pretty sure my frenzied attempt to re-negotiate
the new mood's shadow, cast over my heart like a hat
failed miserably with another slow roll to the presses.
I take as some kind of compassionate compromise
where extra time is provided for me to get used to it
LOL
casting shadows on my face like that
and used up in encore between surviving issue
sees me choking on view to extinguishing flames
the idea itself reprehensible, only she would
unafraid, and really without care still so graceful
so much that these lethal wounds she disallowed
and now this makes a second time with the one
whose to blame! ... when all is mutualized nutbag.
NO
still engaged but connection fading, right?
how much time? is simple, shorter, no doubt
what hope have I remains a crime third time
still a third time really sucks somehow
and I should mention that any killing
possible not for lack of weapons
or killers and triggers
would favor me by ending this
by doing me first
so sick to see her
a third time, is odd, is it not?
COPYRIGHT © 2152011 rjduberg

PS-I hope she never reads this, and my experiment remains less influential outside my control. I prefer her maintain social grace with positive notes even if volume decreases steadily and unresponsive for glory of past.

Somewhat ashamed my general westernized idiom use here hearkened me back all theway to Renee ... so concerned that my choice on a subject that sucks like this will offend or irritate a reader's comfort with this poem.
It talks to a specific time and place and understanding relevant to my life and it sucks but wtf? That's the ramble to hell man

Open to suggestions for replacing my current navigational maps with new associations, for sure.

Namaste,rj

Hostage Trip of Hell

This body is under an attack of ghostly terror
Already unreliable for demands of attention
evolving, accelerating, of rapid illumination
my body is groundhog, drowning is scripted.

The flesh makes procreation matter to death
and while becoming conscious of freedom
my flesh's self starts to search farther beyond
never succeeding. 'Out there' spoons no exit.

What desire understands, means to vanish
itself with self, from the endless yarn of cycle
Now it only creeps alongside fleshling waddle.
Mind's footing so tenuous by All's distraction.

A tactical genius is required to reset the spirit
forces a plenty, which together might render
another plane of consciousness empowered
within self's metaphysics, neutralizing tension.

Present to the world, I feel the force of sense.
The logic of my flesh defines precise function
that is expressed with mechanical clockwork
along gradients of purpose, effectively acted.

That's not you, nor me, all withal forgetting,
leaving vast debris of hubris, our night-falling.
Next time will be worse for the quick fixes.
Possibilities remain, silent still to illumine...

Oh, but such fantasy with this body, mine.
Here I sit having the sense time runs thin
knowing its my flesh's subjective view
on a trip even less desirable for its hell.

COPYRIGHT © 82010 rjduberg

~ Fragments Dropped in Rain

In the end, there is only one need you see
value separated from trash, Self Remember
while death courts you by your crash cart
know it will be impossible for most to pass
It remains the biggest stumble how few listen
relative truth changes only to finish one's little...

© 6/2010, rjduberg

~In Light of Death

Shiva reminds us that nothing remains
except peace, love, and divinity, mysteries
outside the dominion of that destruction
where everything cycles in the end to begin.

Only man has this hint of possibility in him
A gift of being, in light of death, with divinity
balancing the ground of mystery to ascend
making liberty for consciousness, not death.

1/2010 revised

On Creating New Possibility II

In addition to creating circumstances at your pleasure, exists the darker side of that equation. One opens the door to circumstances of equal but opposite character which appear 'willy nilly.' These circumstances are the reality test to your being, the moment of payment, the limit of fear manifested in life. Suffering, disease, death are what men commonly refer to these circumstances as being viz. a viz. their being.

I add this note to shine a light on the dark side of creating new possibility in your life. Don't be surprised. Expect and be willing to have one to get the other and vice versa.

Seeking Spiritual Guidance

What is your life about? Comfort, security, status, power, making a difference, family, love, beauty, truth, healing, teaching, surfing, leisure, art, music, math, science, religion, survival, recovery, duty, honor, God, nature, magic, ideas, sex, drugs, rock-n-roll, justice, winning, yoga, fiction, literature, sports, fashion, business? Everyone has a list with a top and bottom don't they? Understanding that most don't give it a second thought, I have and feel somehow betrayed as my heart decided on something well nigh too extreme and hard. I'm having a problem even writing it right now, there's so much failure and my focus seems to unrealistic and unpragmatic. It was made at what remains perhaps a pinnacle of spiritual suffering in my life. The decision was a response to what I perceived as a completely inadequate preparation the Lutheran religion had given me when confronted with my father's death. I held on to my faith but rejected the church and decided conscious contact with the source of the pain and mystery which had swamped my life was the only thing that would give it any meaning. The sorrow continues unabated today on both accounts, over the death and the fallout of my father's death, and over the lack of realization in my consciousness regarding spiritual enlightenment and union with existence's source (which for now I continue to refer to as god or Christ). There appears to now be one modification regarding my spiritual objective which has to do with accepting lesser authorities than the ultimate source, as long as those lesser beings are in fact authorized and possessing of such spirit which may help me to progress, expand, rise, and otherwise increase my ability to KNOW more and more objectively the true spirit and source.

Father's Resolve and lyrics by Sheryl Crow, Always on Your Side

"Always On Your Side"


My yesterdays are all boxed up and neatly put away
But every now and then you come to mind
Cause you were always waiting to be picked to play the game
But when your name was called, you found a place to hide
When you knew that I was always on your side

Well everything was easy then, so sweet and innocent
My demons and my angels reappear
Leavin' only traces of the man you thought I'd be
Too afraid to hear the words I always feared
Leavin' you with only questions all these years

But is there someplace far away, someplace where all is clear
Easy to start over with the ones you hold so dear
Or are you left to wonder, all alone, eternally
This isn't how it's really meant to be
No it isn't how it's really meant to be

Well they say that love is in the air, never is it clear,
How to pull it close and make it stay
Butterflies are free to fly, and so they fly away
And I'm left to carry on and wonder why
Even through it all, I'm always on your side

But is there someplace far away, someplace where all is clear
Easy to start over with the ones you hold so dear
Or are you left to wonder, all alone, eternally
This isn't how it's really meant to be
No it isn't how it's really meant to be

Well they say that love is in the air, never is it clear
How to pull it close and make it stay
Butterflies are free to fly, why do they fly away
Leavin' me to carry on and wonder why
Was it you that kept me wondering through this life
When you know that I was always on your side

-RIP Dad, I can't help but still weep for you even today, especially after listening to this.

RIP Maryland

Maryland is the name of a very old soul who died two days ago, a 15 year old cainine, all white, adorable bitch. She belonged to a friend and roommate, but too all of us who lived at Elkwood near the Pacific in Imperial Beach, she was our guardian master. She will be so very missed, may she rest in peace. Goodbye girl.

Finally, it's been about this...

The title of this blog holds the space though represents the process producing the words here which for me include a faded recreation of the evolving itself, thus only and actually from the past and ghosted over.

But, given the task to express one's vision or top goal or purpose for writing a book, and this blog being the closest thing I currently have to a book, I somehow managed to thread its beginning all the way back to my father's promise to me to inform me about life after death. That was 38 years ago and has yet to happen.

I can comfortably say that my life has been about that promise and its lack of fulfillment which I still relate to with a painstaking still patience but which I hide with all manner of ineffective initiative and action.

So then, to whom can I find help regarding this insight now? Perhaps no one will step forward without a bill and compensation, all of which creates a degree of suspicion about yet another treatment, change, etc. which you can well imagine I am exhausted by over the last 30 plus years of such trying efforts.

Sounds crazy to me but I cannot hide from the fact that what my life is about is seeking a means to resolve my father's lack of communication after his death. It is just to inconsistent with his having made the promise to me shortly before he died in my arms to begin with.

To attempt a positive spin perhaps I could say my life is about how touching death with one's heart is unwise without being able to completely let go of our former bonds to the life having just passed in our presence.

How to reduce this to the most powerful language is my current task before progressing it seems....

~In Light of Death

In Light of Death

Shiva reminds us that nothing remains
except peace, love, and divinity, mysteries
outside the dominion of that destruction
where everything cycles in the end to begin.

Only man has this hint of possibility in him
A gift of being, in light of death, with divinity
balancing the ground of mystery to ascend
making a liberty for consciousness, not death.

© 5/10/2004, RJDuberg, rev 01/2010
rev 5/2020

~

Contemplating peace and love
feels hardly real while destroying.
Elsewhere is ordered on command
killing our civil service for citizenry.

I would like to resolve this disease
of purpose, pressed by fear to lead.
In the meantime, I AM not a victim
without love, peace, and romance.

I’m just feeling lost like a raindrop
falling but still in cloudy beginning
surrounded by an ocean, now drops
so much homogenity a fog ensues.

But for myself, smiles, a passerby
Mitigates blindness, and its fallout
Only the inevitable smash of splatter
that evaporates in shadow's light.

The circumstantial cast renders
unbalanced compensation's drift.
My Omega could never justify
Iraqis killed by any command
no rationality or integrity will out

A Shadow of death veiled in life?

© 5/10/2004, RJDuberg, rev 5/2020