welp, i got the idea to express my daily life in a poem — regularly — as a sort of consummate product of my daily life. poetry is the highest form of expression, like i say; so like i say, it seems sort of ‘consummate’ to express my actual life in verse.

to do this daily/often is the idea — we’ll see about daily, but for now, here’s one coin into that wishing-well of “often”:

my days build long, like a pathbreaking breeze,
from the egyptian bricks – & the picayune greed;
the starlets are all bright eyed & doey, like a rainforest pristine,& the hallows come rappin’,
at the modern times eve,
bob dylan hanging laterns, near an otherwise indescript chrome steed,
& my lectures spinning in dust bins, birdsong on a path
crooked for the scenes,

a new pyramid; & a new city;
a new people with new dreams

& cupid palmresting his chin; connecting like lace the kings to the queens,

& a tv fireplace, still caught up in a 50’s marketing scheme,
& the psychology of souls, angry mobs ever-reducing the me’s,

on yea they’re on a path of war, wrecking balls ‘gainst priests,
amid my solemn prayer for meditation
& chords from the verdant green,

& a quick salutation, pops,
you know i’m still swallowing-for-peace,

looking at broken paintings,
of figures never quite cleaned,

& the paths too winding now,
too winding to be seen.

the tree nurserys, & peanut farms,
shooting galleries & thee,

weeping on all sides,
a husband playing cards,
on a path broken stellate just for me.

the pigeons are messengers!
scrolls from the world, i swear this i’ve seen –

& of course, there’s always some new defeat,
playing in iterations on big screen anxiety machines looking for a new fear to hurl,
strewn with the utmost of carelessness around big medium & the littlest me’s —

& *those* on little feet,
ballerina dreams thru the living room world;
& of course, the special people & their elvises,
& the people living in their garages & also on top of the world,

all hallowed round a tree,
(i bought vials of their essential oil),
maybe we’ll light a candle together
comes this Christmas eve diurnial.
                                                  

& the passers-by & conversationalists,
street-voyeurs stare at my wares,
& my diorama’s weak, i know,
there’s better things to compare.

& the elvises humanized
— yes it’s real hair,
& the other vendors are still taut,
one just spit & another still stares,

& lo they spin.
on this music box of despair,
the parades of political events,
tagteam wrestling rings to see who rightly most cares

& the boxing fights
& blunder reels
measuring stacks of despair
all except for a few crossed stars;
one of them’s a coupleyear friend, an old lionous bear

lo shut my shutters,
for a bright-eye they stare,
’cause lo winds the wind, the daily breeze & whistles it scares.

& all hallow’s eve with the trick or treaters,
look: their wax buckets are bare,
till a little plead from a queen,
or i guess she’s a princess this year;

& the candles of mysticism,
flare for the seer,
the weights of indecision,
worn this year in poetry’s sheer.

& the clubs of microphones & stadia,
that too up & coming this year,all haunted by ghosts of greatness,
boring for some, guiding others our cheer —

& lastly, i saw a milkman —
cowprint on his ugly little short-bus,
(i swear it was a lady bug, just like
that UPS commercial — the bumbly ambly roadrut truck)

& i thought those good things come back,like the folk music of love,
the metageneration dreams,
like “What I Dreamt” for the groves asaid above,

last, if like A&W foam,
(now in separation only the suds),
if that breast comes breathing at my door,you KNOW i’ll be cutting a rug.

for now i’ll be practicing, listening to the painted note score above.

thought for the day: politics is meant to be the reasoning, rhetoric/dialogue, & actions for attaining the flourishing of our shared, communal interests.

In ancient times, the Greeks faced a similar situation to us in America today: a lending & mortgage crisis.

finance is far too complicated for me to absorb in a few short months, but one thing i did think of, that i think is fair for everyone involved, overall, is to do what Solon – the great Greek statesman & poet – did when he faced the same sort of situation we do now: cancel the debts & even (for our situation) reverse millions of wrongful foreclosures waged against us, The Working Class. this, then, is fairer, given that currently millions have lost their homes due to underhanded lending, & this would change to only a small percent of rightful foreclosures being reversed – their luck just panning out, & banks taking a small hit, in this broad stroke.

we could even fine tune the chosen freed people so that it is more accurate, & is therefore overall fairer.

that the wrongfulness of this move is less than the wrongfulness of the current situation, serves as a sort of ‘political proof’ that we should do it, i wonder; & that margin of error in this move would be wore by The Big Money institutions, who created this situation & then extricated themselves from it, with The Bailout, while The Common Man would win a small war, who shouldered the burden of the situation even tho they did not transgress anyone or anything; therefore the ‘error of motion’ – the margin of error necessary in a large-scale reform – would be shouldered by the guilty, & serve as a fine fine for their transgressions against The Middle-Class.

something to consider.
~ joe

i just completed a string of lectures on The Philosophy of Action – The Creative Process, with almost completely original material.

Come & Watch –

the playlist at Youtube:

The Philosophy of Acton – Volume One – The Creative Process

or each individual video (5 in total):

one school of thought i’ve been propounding lately is eclecticism. when you apply this idea to philosophy, you see that for example, subjectivism & realism are not competitors mutually exclusive, but subjectivism says what is good of the body is told in diagnosis, & realism says what is good of the body is health – as that, they are unified in a toolkit where one is used for one thing, (the analysis of ‘diagnosis’ from body), & the other thing is used for still another. it is the idea that different schools of thought are like tools in a toolbelt, rather than competing systems; this carries over to broader fields than philosophies, where science has its place, religion its, poetry another, & so on; so that each field has its place. this is the idea of eclecticism, & even well-roundedness: that you selectively use the good points from each thing, rather than tribally defend your one way.

in a way, this gets to well-roundedness, & life philosophy, where you spend not all your time being intellectual, moving one level-up in the categories of pursuits, but spend time with friends & family, pursuing your passion/career, release doing hobbies & recreations, & spend time learning new things, & experiencing new kinds of experiences, as well.

the french had a phrase, it meant “he eats well, he drinks well, he fucks well.” that is sort of the cosmopolitan idea here.