Golden Poop

Tautological humbug
fuckers ran
wild with koans filled with bent arrows
angling towards an inside gone made with

inner-spiral dynamics as laid out
by Ancient here and thens who corrupt their
bodies with the daylight of
Soma licks
repeating the same empty air puffs over and over without crying for knowledge

lacing the fantasy
cake with Maya and her pain
made easy
for children.

This poem struck me hard! Almost to the point of tears. Damn you, you did it again – brilliantly capturing and translating pain.

“repeating the same empty air puffs over and over without crying for knowledge”

This is the line that nearly made me burst.

“fuckers ran” this line really got me going toward getting emotional while reading your poem.

“angling towards an inside gone made with”

Did you mean to write mad?

Damn it! I read it again and want to cry again – Excellent poem!


you are right again. i meant mad. thanks…i guess its no suprise that a fellow new yorker can understand me. but yet, its a surprise when anyone understands my poetry at all. i really appreciate your words. thank you

Be careful.
One heart can crush and tare ten souls.

You seem to be a rather sensative man.
That may be your downfall; I am sorry to say this.

Isn’t it more healthy and ten times harder not to feel for some sorts of things in life?

Correct me if I’m wrong…

For some sorts . . . yes. I’m not as sensitive as you might think – I live my daily life more or less like a stoic (a philosophy I personally adore).

However . . . mostly when I choose, I am able to come into contact with my emotions, and when I’m at home, alone, I embrace them; I do not reject them. Except, of course, when I really leave my heart open and they overpower me.

You ask me whether it is more healthy not to feel? I think the answer is no. Western psychology constantly confirms that repressing our emotions produces neuroses and, if prolonged, sometimes full mental breakdowns. I’ve presonally had a period in my life where for many years I held everything inside of myself; the period ended with anxiety attacks, a suicide attempt, and a deep depression. What brought an end to it, was getting all of my emotional junk out in therapy – where, I was fortunate enough (I believe) to have a therapist that helped me become a lot more sensitive to other people, my surrounding enviornment, and my own self. Writing poetry, for instance, literally reveals myself to myself.

I guess, though, reflecting now, that I am a very emotional person – I’ve had a bunch of horrible experiences that seems to have simply overwhelmed me. The one definitive thing that I can say, would be that authenticity for me, is staying true to my heart – experiencing the world through my heart rather than my mind, which I hold in contempt.

See, when I was 7 years old, I remember making myself a promise and a demand: to never let the mind overpower the heart; to always stay true to the heart which I, at that time, realized was far superior to the mind. I guess, I should tell you what lead me to that revelation at that age: a question that I simply could not understand, “Why were adults so mean?” Mean, a word every child understands extremely well. My answer? Adults don’t use their hearts. They’ve forsaken, what to me, at seven, was what I knew made myself and all children divine. I’m an eternal seven year old, struggling hard to always keep that promise, to remain, as childlike as possible in the hopes to retain as much divinity as I possibly can in this whatever world.

I wasn’t thinking about repression, I was imagining an experiment in which the person mannages to let go of almost everyone and everything. This is not a repression, and it is not an actuation–of the desires.

I often want to weazle my way our of strife, mentally, somehow; become capable of deep paradigm shifts of the mind; world views and personalities being interchangable, based on the situation at hand.

But what happens if you stop expecting any good from anyone or anything? I’m not talking about expecting someone to be “mean”, I am talking about seeing through the arrogant-self-delusion of humanity. They are not “people”, they are “animals”. Divinity is a lie, a white white lie that people want to make into a reality.

For me, passion usedto be an every-day emotion; I felt strongly about many things, but now strong emotion is a rare and periodic event that I learn a little bit from when I express it. I say to the desire and the “great” feeling:
“Remember, there are things far greater then you that are far more important, advanced and practical.”
And not in a harsh way, but sobering it is. I say that to my strongest emotions. I try to remember that something always, ALWAYS exists somewhere that is better then what I am currently wanting, therefor it reduces my admiration and willingness to worship or submit to that desire.

When people submit or worship a desire, thought or feeling–It then, though being one of the body parts–controlls all of the body parts, and can lead to neglect of the whole.

So, I wish for all of my body parts to never be neglected, this each thought feeling or factor should not be overstimulated to slaved for.

Freedom from pleasure and fear.

When I feel very emotional about something, that feeling and factor of my whole existence gets too focused upon, IMO.

So there are just some things I said^
Don’t take them personally.

I learned from you today, you helped remind me again about emotional allowance and expression.

Tell me:
Does wantin divinity ever hurt?, in the same way as wanting to be loved–hurts?

Well, Dan, first let’s talk a little about what we mean by divinity. To be or act divine, is, at least, denotatively, to be or act like, God. Now, what are some of God’s positive attributes? (He need not be real, we’re talking heuristically here). How about, forgivness, love, compassion? Theologically, these are acts of divinity, but for secular folk like us (I presume), this can be termed as self-actualization as Maslow would call it, or being in touch with essence as some new age junkie would call it, or whatever else you wish to call it; that which, sometimes takes the greatest effort, but ultimatly is one of the highest acts or states of human action or being I’d argue.

If there is no God, Dan, it doesn’t stop us form acting like our best conceptualizations of him. It’s not a white lie, it’s a reality. When you forgive someone who’s wronged you, Dan, I say, you’re being divine.

Dan, if you keep weazling your way out, you might in the end, end up just what you practice.

“Watch your thoughts; they become words. Watch your words; they become actions. Watch your actions; they become habits. Watch your habits; they become character. Watch your character; it becomes your
destiny.” - Frank Outlaw

I don’t know how we came from emotion to desires, but I don’t think one should ever worship an emotion or a desire. Yet, to reject our emotions, to reject our desires, I say, is to reject those parts of us that make us human, those parts that make us living human beings, not just mental automations. Which, however, is not to say that one ought to over-indulge – some Aristotlelian moderation might be wise to employ. Though, personally, I’m convinced that it is only at emotional extremes that we are truly alive, truly taking part in the wonder named, existence.

In the spirit of Krishnamurti, I’ll take it further Dan – we become our emotions. We are our emotions. For example, what is anger? Is it something seperate from you, or are you anger, itself? Fear . . rage . . jealosy . . likewise. Ah . . . and what about love?

You seem to be in agreement with what I just mentioned, look: “When I feel very emotional about something, that feeling and factor of my whole existence gets too focused upon, IMO.”-Dan

I don’t recollect ever desiring divinity Dan. As I said, it’s a state of being or action that we, human beings, are able to produce, if we will it.

Well, that’s my take on things, hope it didn’t sound to new agey or something to you.