Cut-Up Perceptions of Reality

 

“I will be your poet, I will be more to you than to any of the rest.”
— Walt Whitman

 

The light showed me a secret banquet. The great volcanic furnace travels silently from star to distant star. This method of training has nothing at all to do with religious upheaval
Passion I see is catching. Idealizing the world is a harmful paradox. Everything that we have been trying to avoid is a numerical value expressing the persistence of which we resist.
If you want to imply transformative spirit,have pride in your appearance. Tales linger on. All history of the DNA will offer two alternative pseudoexplanatirns.

In conclusion, what we do and how we feel appears that of choosing which of these conflicting models to “believe”.

 

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Phoenix Rising Over CityPhoenix Rising Over the City by G A Rosenberg

 

In the Belly of the Beast, the Spider AbidesIn the Belly of the Beast the Spider Abides by G A Rosenberg

 

The Me in You (Love Doggerel )

 

“Are you the new person drawn toward me?
To begin with, take warning – I am surely far different from what you suppose;
Do you suppose you will find in me your ideal?
Do you think it so easy to have me become your lover?
Do you think the friendship of me would be unalloy’d satisfaction?
Do you think I am trusty and faithful?
Do you see no further than this façade—this smooth and tolerant manner of me?
Do you suppose yourself advancing on real ground toward a real heroic man?
Have you no thought, O dreamer, that it may be all maya, illusion?”
― Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass

 

I would love to be the me in you
for in your eyes I shine.
You have always believed in me
My silly jokes, my foolish rhymes.
If I could be the me in you
I wouldn’t have to doubt
you believe in the confidence
of which I’ve felt a drought.

 

I’m weary of being the me in me
that silly sad old fool
who once thought I could get away
with breaking every rule
Yet life stomps hard on fantasies
and every tower falls
For you I want to build castles
I’d make the grandest halls.

 

For if I become the me in you
that brave worthwhile ideal
There is nothing I couldn’t do
to no being would I yield
For you have kept believing
when I was brought down low.
With you I’ve become a better man
Together may we grow.
— G A Rosenberg

 

Blessings, G

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BestowalBestowal by G A Rosenberg

 

After ImageAfter Image by G A Rosenberg

 

My Verse Stuck in the Middle

 

That you are here—that life exists, and identity;
That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse.”
― Walt Whitman

 

Love’s current, imperfect and scarlet-hued
flows swiftly through my life.
Music Thunderously loud and hauntingly melodic
is the theme of my soul.
Peace, long sought yet never reached
through the omnipresent strife
A longing, aching, yearning quest
to somehow become whole.

 

My verse longer than ever I thought
seems somehow stuck in the middle
I search for the perfect word or phrase
only to come up wanting
Somewhere the rhythm has gone askew
the next line is often a riddle
Finding reason to make the effort
an endeaver that seems too daunting.

 

Yet I’ll follow it through to the end
tho sometimes I wonder why bother
Can yet one more stanza in life’s great song
really have much portent
To find surcease and lay my pen down
may be something that I’d rather
Yet this is my soul’s legacy
and the reason why I present.
–G A Rosenberg

 

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<h5 A few old favourites

 
 

Echoes of AUMEchoes of Aum by G A Rosenberg

 

Immersed in his SurroundingsImmersed in His Surroundings by G A Rosenberg

 

SacrificeSacrifice by G A Rosenberg

 

My Verse is My Vice

 

That you are here—that life exists, and identity;
That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse.”
― Walt Whitman

 

My verse is my vice
for my words sprawl
like a gutter drunk
speaking unintended truth
thru the heartache of blurred vision.
Such tricksy a thing is language
and so easily misconstrued.
yet still I’ll contribute
poetry for play
and spectate all the while
for there is magic here
and power for those who wish it.
Roles taken on
to catch kings’ consciousness
and to fill beggar’s bowls
We, stars all, shine brightly
in our flight across the stage;
joyful even in our misery.
Intermission is over
and a new act begins.
— G A Rosenberg

 

Blessings, G

 

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TouchTouch by G A Rosenberg

 

Orracular VisionOracular Vision by G A Rosenberg

Happy in the Now

 

“Happiness, not in another place but this place…not for another hour, but this hour.”
― Walt Whitman

 

If happiness is a choice
why do we choose it so seldom?
Do we feel unworthy
to take our fill of joy
our measure of infinite bliss?
Has our pain been
such a constant friend
that even as it stabs us
it feels so good?
Perhaps its the drama
we fear if we’re too happy
it will grow repetitive
forgetting that joy
finds ways to renew
and the new and delightful
in the ordinary
I choose happiness
or I have let it choose me
I looked in your eyes and surrendered.
— G A Rosenberg

 

Blessings, G

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Point of ConvergencePoint of Convergence by G A Rosenberg

 

Wolves in My CornersWolf in My Corners by G A Rosenberg

Conversational Opportunities

 

“Stranger, if you passing meet me and desire to speak to me, why should you not speak to me?
And why should I not speak to you?”
― Walt Whitman

 

I love meeting learning and learning about new people. Some of the most memorable conversations I have had have been with strangers. Yet, I find myself more and more with the thoughts in my own head. When working on a piece of art or writing and the little notification goes off on FaceBook I tend to growl and then reluctantly answer. On some level any communication that comes my way is meant to either as lesson, goad or spur. Who knows what opportunities for growth there may be in one simple conversation? Even when I answer a call from someone I may find less pleasant to interact with, I realize I may gain insight into myself (if only what in them is striking sparks off me.). Every interaction whether with a loved one, a stranger or ourselves is an opportunity. This is what I tell myself when the telephone interrupts my train of thought, anyway.
Blessings, G

 

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Aspects of NeedAspects of Need by G A Rosenberg

 

StreamersLunar Streamers by G A Rosenberg

Tramping the Perpetual Journey

“I tramp a perpetual journey.”
― Walt Whitman

 

I love the perpetual nature of my journey. That I have no real knowledge (tho lots of clues) about any eventual destination or way station makes it all the more fun…It seems so many people of a spiritual bent seem to be so focused on either getting off the Wheel of karma or ascending to the fourth or fifth dimension or any one of a number of admittedly worthwhile goals that they miss the point of being here in the first place. They see this world as being a rather horrid place and just want to leave. This may be true but since we’re here, there must be a reason for it. I don’t believe suffering to be it.
Funny thing about suffering. It seems that the people I have known who have suffered the worse (poverty, ill health etc) seemed to be the most focused on finding moments to enjoy. The people who seem most focused on the amount and duration of their suffering seem to be the ones for whom suffering is an option. Oh I’ve had moments of suffering and moments of joy. I also realize that I’ll have more of both in the future. I’m open to it.
But then as a tramp on the journey, my prevailing attitude has mainly been curiosity about what may come next.
Blessings, G

 

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Wolf Night on MetalWolf Night on Slate Metal by G A Rosenberg

 

Multi-Dimensional Still-LifeMulti- Dimensional Still Life by G A Rosenberg

All on the Hero’s Journey

 

“Not I, nor anyone else can travel that road for you.
You must travel it by yourself.
It is not far. It is within reach.
Perhaps you have been on it since you were born, and did not know.
Perhaps it is everywhere – on water and land.”
― Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass

 

Originally Written in 2009:

I’ve always enjoyed quest stories, stories in which the somewhat innocent naive protagonist through undertaking a series of adventures reaches a defined goal (returning home, finding his/her fortune, destroying the one ring etc) and comes out enlightened in some manner. Perhaps reading these stories becomes in some sense a form of religious ritual for me. I imagine myself in the shoes of the hero or heroine. I become Jack going up the beanstalk and escaping from the giant. I find myself, stuck to the tar baby like Br’er Rabbit begging Br’er Fox not to throw me into the briar patch. I can see myself as Aladdin, trapped in the cave rubbing the lamp to get it lit, Alice down the rabbit hole and Luke Skywalker taking that last desperate shot to destroy the Death Star. Their journeys too I have undertaken within my imagination. It doesn’t appear to be restricted to words on paper. Movies and TV shows can also spark my imagination tho somehow it doesn’t feel as effective.

I go into Chapel Perilous, seeking the grail only to find I must encounter the darkness inside myself. I sit down with the Mad Hatter and the Dormouse to find that their word puzzles and inverted logic reshapes my mind into new insights. I take peyote with Carlos Castaneda and jump across the abyss. I fight their demons, both inner and outer (assuming for a moment that there exists a difference). If in facing their demons and perhaps by doing so discover and confront my down, can I claim a piece of the enlightenment at the end.

Since writing this I have danced with my darkness and cried with it… confronted and lied with it…felt numb and then enlivened and several points…I find that I am repeating many of the old lessons again , perhaps with more awareness or is that my illusion… I have seen the hero in the ordinary man and seen mundaneness in heroes. What better way to realize that we embody both and we can be so much more and are becoming so…We all exist on the hero’s journey, the grail quest whether we know it or not…
Blessings, G

 

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Goddess GazeGoddess Gaze by G A Rosenberg

 

CrossemissionsCrossemmission

Feeling With…

“I do not ask the wounded person how he feels, I myself become the wounded person.”
― Walt Whitman, Song of Myself

 

I heard your pain
not a sob, not a scream
but a throbbing stomach clenching ball
It hurt yet I knew that to remove it
would be selfish
It would be to remove something from the
very heart of you
so I sat there
feeling it with you
Offering the solace
that you were not alone…

 

When I see someone hurting, the strongest temptation is to do something, anything that will take away their pain. In sympathy, it is so easy to say to someone “It’s alright and try to make it better somehow. That may work for pain that is merely physical but not so much when it comes to wounds of the heart or spirit. Some lessons can only be learned by going through it. It hurts to see someone hurting but can be a very selfish act to try to make them feel better without addressing what has caused the pain in the first place and what lesson they have attracted. Sometimes the best thing we can do instead is to let them know we are there hurting besides them…
Blessings, G

 

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Forest ConquestForest Conquest by G A Rosenberg

 

Aeriel view of a Spinning PeacockAerial View of a Spinning Peacock by G A Rosenberg

Meeting Myself

 

“Are you the new person drawn toward me?
To begin with, take warning – I am surely far different from what you suppose;
Do you suppose you will find in me your ideal?
Do you think it so easy to have me become your lover?
Do you think the friendship of me would be unalloy’d satisfaction?
Do you think I am trusty and faithful?
Do you see no further than this façade—this smooth and tolerant manner of me?
Do you suppose yourself advancing on real ground toward a real heroic man?
Have you no thought, O dreamer, that it may be all maya, illusion?”
― Walt Whitman

 

Must we come with warnings?
Each person we meet may read
“Beware of the mirror
standing before you,
he reflects imperfectly
everything you shine into him
including your own reflections
He sees you
so he may become more clear
by watching the ripples of his breath
against your surface.
You may not like what you see
reflected towards you
he may show you your imperfections, imperfectly.
But know that by gazing upon him
he will love you
to the best of his being
perhaps not as lover or friend
or whatever your stated purpose for coming
but for the beautiful imperfect looking glass you are
and for what you may create together.”
— GAR

 

Blessings, G

 

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In Service To HerIn Service to Her by G A Rosenberg

 

Centre of the HiveCentre of the Hive by G A Rosenberg