down through time

I can’t configure in my mind the time of day.  In some memories its dark, in other memories its day.  All in the same memory, the same moment in time.
Then there was the night before.  The phone that didn’t stop ringing.  We all sat there as it rang, slow to respond.  As I finally realized no one else would answer it, I got up and sure enough, it stopped ringing.
Then the morning after.  Again, the phone rang and it didn’t stop ringing.  Slow to answer, my mom sleeping next to me, said,
Is that the phone?
Hours later (so it seemed; light to dark), my mom slipped on clothes and hurried down the hall to answer the endless ring of the phone.
There are no words to explain what happened next.  Just,
“What did you do to Mike!  What did you do to him!”
And the next thing I knew, my brother was dead.
Not one of us questioned how he died until we were told how he died.

[My Mike Poem]
your life hangs over like a lamp
from the path i’ve drifted from
when other lights of color
led my heart undone;
and as i rode through ether
caught in strobes of scattered void
your watt improved in measure
and i could not avoid.
though i thought the world was dark
without your strength to light it,
you are the light that is the strength
with the power to ignite it.
if i made a promise
you would have to keep it too;
we’ll take your strength to lengths
unknown to me and you,
and light the way your life insists
and follow it to your transfer.
we’ll mark the exes, connect the wires
and there will be an answer.~

liberation

When the self is alone, this is said to be the attainment of liberation
Restraint for the sake of freedom from remorse
freedom from remorse for the sake of joy
joy for the sake of rapture
rapture for the sake of tranquility
tranquility for the sake of pleasure
pleasure for the sake of concentration
concentration for the sake of knowledge and vision of things as they are
knowledge of things as they are for the sake of disenchantment
disenchantment for the sake of release
release for the sake of knowledge and vision of release
knowledge and vision of release for the sake of total unbinding without clinging – Vinaya Pitaka, book 5

[some perfect]

re you is the most truth you’ve ever known:
the plaid fading into the flannel it really is;
the coffee staining to the cup where it lives;
the eyes you see from pressing to read-
you struggle still for spotlight as you watch
the colors bleed.
this is what it means but i don’t think you’ll listen;
centerstage is no one there when you’ve prepared to glisten.
reality is paisley as it skillfully adheres to plaid~