travelogues-in motion poetry

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1

Big bear last week of June 2023
Kids out before final week so much travel ahead
Some justifiable some reprehensible

bear it
Bare it all because the need for an-solution
nothing to do with girth

Go on.

habits make fixations, and travel is an addiction which may or may not be justified without a constant return , a return into the unfamiliar.

Some visit a moment, some days, which never end, and some,
drawn back into the vague search for home and what it represents in it’s vagaries

Pick one out of the box, laying around in dust of abandoned neglect, some profuse with the beads of trickling release, but all mistook for obsession, to leave, to exit from whence be for gotten.

Make no mistake it is near impossible not to find friends, all lived, loved lest they not knower of,

that urge, call it Denny, my imaginary gone, away friend, a complex creature, eternally seems like as if meant to be diminishing as the mirrored image diminishes into misty memory , creating the blown up of could have been.

Big bear. Multitude of swirling images, came here my son said to Denny , I need to get away.

2

Away. From need to write to constant ocd toward describing a constant unstoppable flow, to break that spell is to sink to obliviou unsublamated interruption, where recovery may exceed its own content.

They call that the hungry ghost.

“But what comes out the inter-netted sea of multitudes waiting for a miracle?

This for now;

2 What’s God going to say to my questions? I’m braced for the worst.
I’ll climb to the lookout tower and scan the horizon.
I’ll wait to see what God says,
how he’ll answer my complaint.
Full of Self, but Soul-Empty

2-3 And then God answered: “Write this.
Write what you see.
Write it out in big block letters
so that it can be read on the run.
This vision-message is a witness
pointing to what’s coming.
It aches for the coming—it can hardly wait!
And it doesn’t lie.
If it seems slow in coming, wait.
It’s on its way. It will come right on time.

4 “Look at that man, bloated by self-importance—
full of himself but soul-empty.
But the person in right standing before God
through loyal and steady believing
is fully alive, really alive.
5-6 “Note well: Money deceives.
The arrogant rich don’t last.
They are more hungry for wealth
than the grave is for cadavers.
Like death, they always want more,
but the ‘more’ they get is dead bodies.
They are cemeteries filled with dead nations,
graveyards filled with corpses.
Don’t give people like this a second thought.
Soon the whole world will be taunting them:
6-8 “‘Who do you think you are—
getting rich by stealing and extortion?
How long do you think
you can get away with this?’
Indeed, how long before your victims wake up,
stand up and make you the victim?
You’ve plundered nation after nation.
Now you’ll get a taste of your own medicine.
All the survivors are out to plunder you,
a payback for all your murders and massacres.
9-11 “Who do you think you are—
recklessly grabbing and looting,
Living it up, acting like king of the mountain,
acting above it all, above trials and troubles?
You’ve engineered the ruin of your own house.
In ruining others you’ve ruined yourself.
You’ve undermined your foundations,
rotted out your own soul.
The bricks of your house will speak up and accuse you.
The woodwork will step forward with evidence.
12-14 “Who do you think you are—
building a town by murder, a city with crime?
Don’t you know that God-of-the-Angel-Armies
makes sure nothing comes of that but ashes,
Makes sure the harder you work
at that kind of thing, the less you are?
Meanwhile the earth fills up
with awareness of God’s glory
as the waters cover the sea.
15-17 “Who do you think you are—
inviting your neighbors to your drunken parties,
Giving them too much to drink,
roping them into your sexual orgies?
You thought you were having the time of your life.
Wrong! It’s a time of disgrace.
All the time you were drinking,
you were drinking from the cup of God’s wrath.
You’ll wake up holding your throbbing head, hung over—
hung over from Lebanon violence,
Hung over from animal massacres,
hung over from murder and mayhem,
From multiple violations
of place and people.
18-19 “What’s the use of a carved god
so skillfully carved by its sculptor?
What good is a fancy cast god
when all it tells is lies?
What sense does it make to be a pious god-maker
who makes gods that can’t even talk?
Who do you think you are—
saying to a stick of wood, ‘Wake up,’
Or to a dumb stone, ‘Get up’?
Can they teach you anything about anything?
There’s nothing to them but surface.
There’s nothing on the inside.
20 “But oh! God is in his holy Temple!
Quiet everyone—a holy silence. “

Habakkuk 22-3

“

3

Big Bear: woke early , son and family , , Shirley ruitinly, mind fixed on finding particular writers who wrote about writing as an incessant struggle to stop its flow of images. Little Jamie, the only one who reads, varaciously, out of the triplets, cast out, , of that later.

She wears emblazoned OXFORD on her daily wear, little understanding how the means acquired so challenging to workaholic parents trying to attain means, between that and the few days here, bearing that huge burden that they all must bear to continue that intrinsic challenge against all odds.

But her reading is impressive, and who knows!

Now cut and get back searching for the writer, who wrote of overwhelming anxiety against the abandonment of writing, and maybe takeoff from there.

4

Couldn’t.t find it: proof positive the challenge that AI and OI have in store for further development in the next 20 or so years until the coming of the face off between the singular soul and the singularity of all.

5

The sun is surprisingly evenly mixed with chattering birds and someone chopping wood. Surprising because leaving Los Angeles behind in a veil of clouds, could not foresee this included mountain high, the stillness belies the frenzy of back to back frenzy that the city is eternally a proof of the parking lot it has become.

Testament to kerouac’s Town and the City, later Lonesome Traveler.

6

Shirley said, “The den is empty” and shot the bear & used it for a rug.

The End

7

Little later & know how much time
Left
Until get back to resume
Reconnect
With flow
But new look around some new ‘ruche’
only some who compare each other
Out of their working house in town bought in scenes here enviably stunningly isolating
Beautiful but can not stay in

No thy have to be out and around showing their latest brightly colored acquisitions, wearing bright colors, and by force of habit, working, hammering away, to gain foothold where difference does not make a better , natural man, and probably memorializing back unto the hood old familiar to familial work of producing the stuff that the dream of being there really matters, instinctively, but unbeknownst retroactively self defeating.

John John breaks some ice and out of the blue says a-pro-po, unexpected and out of the blue’
Don’t compare, as if reading from Khrishnamurti

Remembrances: when asking chili about the suprising ‘don”t compare utterance, it came afterwords as a follow up question: between the earlier and later version oh Death on the Nile, what difference can you see? And would have not expected him to say that in the later version the saturated image takes out the slack concerning the plot and characterization, where as suddenly ‘Death in Venice’ and Suddenly Last summer sprung up, as surprisingly.

8

Yes, but for a deal, the fullness need not a refill.

9

Two out of the triplets with Jamie without any pet name, yet, are chili and momo, inseparably, yet suspiciously too close for mere siblinghood, but more of them lately, while Shirley beckons not to abandon her.

While terror filled about what can go down in Minneapolis in early mid august

10

But chili and momo are not inseparable , and no suspicion of impropriety there, it’s just that they are much more alike then not to form a similar siblingular relation with the other two, one of which is the Oxford bound reader girl and the cheer leader one, who is similar to the cheerleader cousin left in Minneapolis, married the super quotered back home there, and her half sister, who still talks to me at times, and I ought to visit on account of a 60th class room reunion there, but more of this later, dear reader(s), and this is only a test.

In the event of an actual occurances, shall be characterized with fill ins necessary for adequate identification.

11

It’s almost a non-se quit or not to draw parallels with ….Thomas Mann.

12

But Jerry, is he even recoverable at this point?

Well, if I could just remember the word-

Can’t and not going to waste more time on it, rather it has become of urgency to watch the oak leaves rustling and recreate the image in the film ‘Blow-up’ where the camera searches among the unsawaction, among hushed up leaves similarly , maybe an impending opening into a forum titled, movies’ images which I should never forget, or unforgettable scenes: recaptured. Or something.

Nah

Just remembered: indelible hope it’s right

13

I can not and that is the point where have to cut, out with a familiarity that may evoke future transcendence

facebook.com/reel/6668987019779395/

14

That’s your opinion, the end?

See the deal is, that the payoff is supposed to end at the end, but, and here is the clincher, the end doesen’t come at the very end, but it starts at the very beginning the deal is signed, sealed and delivered.

The end is endless in any case, but particularly when the black letter is adhered to, regardless.

If really ended, cut through the skin, muscle to the bone, then neither one survives, got it.?!

Who truly loves, can never describe the iron contract’s eternally held contractual bonded necessity, where the cut’s healing (because all wounds heal) becomes stronger then the bounded wound.

15

What?

16

I do not quite remember, can’t look back but came up with something; that life varies between construction and reconstruction, an architectural feat of organization with us varying between the literal and figurative construction of it.

17

out of what?

18

I violated the principle of not looking back, for reasons exposed here, that is out of the reality of a general dispossession which occurs to most every one, and deconstructs them at first suddenly, loosing linkers gradually, and with increasing rate of change, from the soul’s preposition falling headlong into it’s embodied literal re-presentation. Out of it’s embodiment , fallen toward the bedrock of logical , absolute necessity, hell to some , farther from heaven to others, between hell and heaven to a few.

Out of what?

Well not out of Africa but out of the grip of big bear , here, and now. Or out of anywhere for that matter, but, then here I can get away,

Well almost by a liscence of a rhyme, and return not into the underground from which benevolent beings seek to excommunicate. This is why so sympathize , oh Rimbaud, and many there, the place of resting souls who can’t decide, they call it -

19

Purgatory

Yes, that’s it, out of purgatory.

Wonder if the zillion lifetimes( not that into reincarnation much different from a day at the last, at judgement day souls all, will reawaken, but such enlightenment of which can not be said one has attained.

Because that introduces the new cut, up, then down, that would only reaffirm the Parmenides/Heraclitus anti thesis.

20

Out of this comes no entitlement nor enlightenment, only a reccurance to choose to knock at heaven’s door, the freedom given to cut , for ever, an everlasting gift to the door of no real exit, but that simulation where the two images can reflect