sermonette

sermonette
how you flow with it
when folks don't treat you as you deserve
you let it out and then by the time you know it
things ar trending your way
but then
life being life as it is
they are back to giving you heck again
and the cycle continues

reading this morning a book by going fat kid rules the world there is one segment
reminiscent of jean-paul sartre's le nausea novel of the thirties
this chubby boy is assigned to check out skinny folks eating their meal and he is supposed to notice whatsoever he sees"(You'll know it when you see it") he realizes their facades go down when they have a little egg on their chin,literally...and he can see their insecutiries and more...
calling in sick today i realized how much my facade droops at such times, the guilt and fear of being dismissed(nonsensically) for being ill in this hog eat hog realm really terrorifies me deny it or no.
the young lad sees through the couple's facades and Going has the protagonist's friend say "You are in those moments all the time"(the sham shame and feral fettered fretterings and wearying worrying wartering)
let myself me embrace my own facades
and not deny my selfsame dents
and 'allow' others have theirs and not strive so to show them theirs

here's what happens at my meets ofttimes: a member spouts authentically, without their normal(to me) guile, someone i usually sort into my don't-like box cagey cag
after the meeting i risk and tell 'em i liked what you shared thank you, my friend
and suddenly i realize almost as if it were the wrong soul, i've come After their shutters have been drawn and only greet the andiron android outside their doorstoop
like in the ms pacman, they have 'changed back into' their normative selves,their facade is up and the window for betting at the paramutuels is like a closet, closed once more

the icing on the rotten cake

the icing on the rotten cake
(a poem of rejuvenation and halo healerings)

some therapists will tell you
that healing's got no place
just iron a wee bit faster, ooh
and ignore that dreamscape scarey face

and don't become engrossed
in the whelm of when you was wee
nor expand your emotional coasts:
won't help, won't undo, won't set free....

but i'm jus here to tell you
that's mazola crapola payola spewing their lips
like a white spruce, their wise domes would fell you
and make cellulose and fructose from the pulp and the wood chips

prostrations on the prostate

poemsong of the prostate
as i lay abed, not at this moment prostrate afore the gods of the netherrealm, no need for surgicals; I'm just going to be calmer, and rely more upon my intuitions;
also that part of my body
contains regions of vast empowerment as well as of shaming as a kid
so for me
to slow it down and re-awarify myself
and breathe more(fiery)
and quaff a pitcher(of water embottled)
and become icy towards my fetters all a frettering,
ach, those are the keys to the healing
that and ginger root,to boot.

It was one weird week,. Communalities of one wellness.

it was one weird and wired, buzzardly bizarre work-week(as usual) and I think I got too far caught up in the drama trauma(not of my awesome clients but of my equally -dysfunctional-as-I-am coworkers...O, how these home-away-from-home scenarios play out intermittently. sometimes i'm on the sidelines as the healthy observer watching aloof and bemused, willing to assist if feasible but so oft have been burnt by getting into the melee ; other times i'm in the midst of it all trapped and trippin',and wishin' i myself had that selfsame detachement, and could place my awarenesses in another 'attache' case, such as it were.

there was this boer and this 'oar and they didst duly roar

ooutside my door
a boer and an 'oar
the boar saying if only i had a 'lectric airblower
these leaves would meet their destiny
the 'oar says
i am a boatie, i traipse the worldwaterrealm in my old battered yacht
i think i'm quite hot
if only my destrudo(freued, the joyful one says we all have this urge to lemming ourself and subjucgate and sublmiate it by being football fans and runway wannabes and stuch)
were not so acting up
i'd loosen those pounds fifty and five
and be so youthful and tannin and 'llive
both are sixty
growing old? none too nifty

very crabby moo this morn

it wasn't the fog what got me carby think it was arguing with a fiend and having to stop writhing
but i was hurthing and so it didn't work for me
yestermorn's au contraire waas magic
and a fiend een told me bout a book by ernest kurst the spirituality of imperfection i belive