Take me down
there are snakes underground
sewer rats and
One time Bhagavan Das and me rented a cabin in Oregon. It was very remote and isolated and was sitting on a raging river. It was dark though because the cabin was surrounded by gigantic trees. The sunlight was filtered by the trees and it was strangely quiet- except for the constant roar of the river, there was not a sound in sight…the inside of the cabin was all wood and there was a massive fireplace made of black rock.
One day not too long after moving in we noticed a horrible smell in the cabin one morning and found the source as the bathtub filled with brown water bubbling up from the drain. The brown water had little pieces in it. It was a direct experience of what was left behind. The remnants, the remains of those who came before us. It was there sewage from an overflowing septic tank that we were now left to deal with. At that time coincidentally huge rats also started to take over the cabin.
They were inside the walls, on the ceiling, running around the house. And they weren’t afraid of me. They were wild and clever, aggressive and in charge. They had an eery intelligence as if they’re planned the whole thing…as if they knew it was all just too much to handle. Too gross. Too real.
We had a huge Ganesha on the mantle over the fireplace in the living room with a bell hanging next to it. They would run back and forth ringing the bell. Jumping like acrobats or circus heroes…
and this wasn’t after we went to sleep and the house was dark and safe for them- this was in daylight, right in front of us. One time one rat saw me as he entered the bedroom and I sat up in bed and screamed (he was as big as a cat) he then stood on his hind legs and began
to charge at me…I screamed again and he just ran faster…I jumped up just as he flew by me. These rats meant business. They were going to take over! We went to the hardware store to buy those traps that catch them and then you can “set them free” (you tempt them by putting food inside) the old man at the hardware store just laughed at us…apparently he knew the rats better than we did. He said “you need poison” We said “we can’t do that” he just shook his head…he knew we’d have to learn the hard way… so every morning we’d check the cages and they were empty and the doors were shut.
The food was gone! They figured it out. How to get the food and not get caught. They were smarter than us…meanwhile still dealing with
the overflowing septic tank and now the termites are covering the front door too….like millions of them. What should we do? Rats. Shit. Termites.
Where do we go from here? Do we let them have the cabin? Clearly it’s us or them. What is
compassion? Is it really that clear? We like to think so don’t we? It’s all so simple when we keep it black and white and the edges never blur and it’s never our decision- but the “right and loving” decision. (that our ethics adopted by our persona made for us before we could actually even think or decide) Sometimes my friend, that just doesn’t work. We learn the hard way that it’s not that easy….we are born to kill and to shit.
The parable of the story is:
One way or another we must own it.
So they dug an elephant size hole in the front of the cabin where the septic tank was and they drained the waste and the urine. The rats were poisoned. Shortly after we got married.
Bhagavan Das once tried to tell me that I better be careful how I talk to him because bad things might happen to me because he was God.
(like seriously and not in theory- after all it worked on other people)
I looked at him and said “you’re full of shit”
(after all we needed to determine rank and position in the relationship)
He knew it was true. He was a scamming rat full of shit. We all are. Some of us just have a bigger stage to defecate on or to pull rank. Our rats are tenacious. They can chew through metal.
They’re clever and they burrow very deeply.
Apparently these rats started at the bottom and worked their way up…see what I’m saying?
the sage was a wicked man
His pipe was upside down
he carried a fork that
bit and swallowed
he sang a tune that wept and hung
in the air like smoke from fire
one day he held the fork to the sky
the purple lip of God upon him
in a pitch of humming and hollow eyed
he sunk the song below him
God building fire and saying today
is the day for new light
the sun beat his drum and the
moon licked his lips
will we all die in the crossfires?
the sage was the sermon
the last second on the clock
held to the sky bending over the moment
kill us all with your crooked hook
we meant wisely to go
away from the place holding captive
the lie cool and seeping
into the sea dripping death.
people are expecting something they are never going to get from me…predictability.
We should find out what’s going on in the place we find ourselves…and do something about it. The shit gets left behind and it’s called inheritance. It’s the stew of feces that bubbles up from the drain. Then the rats move in and want to take over. They’re big and they’re fast and they’re clever. They aren’t afraid. They aren’t good or bad. They just know. They know you. They know where to go.
They call themselves God and they believe it. Could it be true after all?
What does this mean to me?
It means that- they’re ringing the bell and it’s time.
It means I’m being called to take a stand. It means I better own this place I’m in and find all its secret tunnels and hiding places…..
She’s tipping now….full of secrets…
She’s tipping Her head and eating Her tail.
It’s His vice grip upon Her. He squeezes everything out of Her. Now She’s eating His
head and His tail thrashes and whips from side to side. Venom and semen and life. Poisonous puddles of Union. We can call it slime or fifth or the dead things we create -but I just call it compromise. (sometimes I call it perfection depending on my mood) Flipping The Switch. This could be God after all. It’s really just turning everything on isn’t it? Pushing all the danger buttons…the friction hurts a little less when we know it’s almost over. He’s flat on the floor and not squirming at all. It’s Divinity.
(Lesson #1- Its never over. Ever. Get used to it.)
struck a cord
thick and deep
under the skin
loud and light
between the sheets
leaving a trail
It’s about what’s left behind. What they did in that place. Secrets. It’s about Secrets.
I have so many secrets. People give them to me and want me to hold them. It’s a lot.
Secrets. Secret places. Secret holes.
finding the words to tell you might be hard….
what are you holding my friend?
I was leaning on you
my redeemer, lifter
of the bottom hole
yes I lost you
when I looked.
Seeing the pain
untouched around you
between segments lean
and diligent pursuits
my lost way, I held you
like the desert holds the moon
you are all I have to stop
the fire burning horns
tell me the way
how shall I hold you?
Deep in the night sky
edging closer, turning
blue then gold
then sharp then wet
you went away before
we were finished…
peace in the search
for the silence
cool and dripping
moments of collapse
I can’t give you safety and cuddles. I know you really don’t want that -but I do know you want in.
“It’s not you, it’s me” yes, we’ve heard that one before. I took you into my dwelling. The dwelling, the warm fire inside. The special Secret….
…and now here I stand upon the precipice of me. I wish I had something to offer you. It seems you have come and wandered nearby and grown afraid of the light of the moon. I wish She wasn’t so bright so that I wouldn’t seem so dark to you.
How deep is this love that tears and scavenges?
“It isn’t me its you” we’ve heard that one before
and it’s true no matter how….
and when I walked by and saw the pornographic images I wasn’t sure who’s fault it was. They’re screaming in my face. “Start hunting now! Let the games begin!” young blood dancing in a flurry….dripping with the pain of the parts we never knew. And I couldn’t just pick Her up and move on, She was way too heavy by now…
domination or submission-whose hand do we hold through this? I feel I have nothing left to thread through you, that this eclipse is beginning to burn…to burn bright as the star in my window.
Im still waiting for you. I’m guiding you home and the sirens are calling…
(wicked and haunted are the guises we assume)
And the images filled my head with a fear that only knows how to become the one lusting…
who put who in command after all?
It’s funny how people won’t leave comments in the blog comment section but keep emailing me personally as if they’re too important to just be a “commenter” a couple weeks ago a woman emailed and thanked me for my courage and assured me that “we all have ghosts” (you know like skeletons in the closet- yes, talking about them and meeting them are very different though -but she wouldn’t know that yet) or another person sends me links to “people who have resolved these issues and can help me”
It’s hysterical to think that I would spend 1,000 dollars to create this website just to:
A) CONFESS B) GET SUPPORT AND NOT FEEL SO ALONE IN MY PROBLEMS C) DEVELOP MY CREATIVE WRITING SKILLS D) EXPLOIT MY
INNER TURMOIL E) ITS THE ONLY WAY I CAN BE IMPORTANT BECAUSE I’M SO UNIMPORTANT
F)I’M SUPREMELY SPIRITUAL BY NOT BEING SPIRITUAL AND I AM HOPING THE READERS WILL REALIZE THIS G) I’M JUST CRAZY AND AFTER YEARS OF PRETENSE AND ROLE PLAYING I’VE FINALLY JUST SNAPPED
H) NONE OF THE ABOVE- You never knew me. You don’t know me now. I can say what I say because it doesn’t matter at all. Will you be inspired to
let go of your lie? I hope so because it’s hurting a lot of other liars. The Secrets we Hold.
(the answer. Check)
It’s HYSTERICAL. The lurkers. The stalkers. The voyuers. The pitiers. The analyzers. You’re all out there I know it…. (secrets are like termites)
And thank you for all of your emails. It’s a start. The Beloved has always carried a snake around Her neck. Don’t you know why? Start moving now! The Beloved has always cracked the whip. Do you know why? Pain is the key. The Beloved always breaks the fantasy of light. Do you know why? So you can see in the dark. It’s Her dark. She’s not afraid because She lives there. Rats come and go. Feces flows and sinks back into Her. She works with your shit. She is the Maker of Gold. She’s got mysterious skills even She doesn’t know why….you know we can’t leave something out or behind without losing something precious.
It’s creating itself no matter what.
My message and my reason is obscured by my
love. I only talk in riddles and chaos. She moves back and forth across time. She weaves in and out of my mind (and yours) we aren’t separated by do’s and don’ts. We aren’t the problem.
There isn’t a solution to seek. Time will not ever tell Her Secrets. She’ll walk right into you.
I cried when you left
But I never missed you
I ripped up the memory
but never threw it in the fire
burning in the middle
of this love
the flames held the room
silent and bright
I sat staring at where you used to sit
across from me
throwing glances in the fire
so I said goodbye
smoke waving from the grave
into your eyes I walked
alone without you
into the fire
the long hot places
stretching me into
holding open the door
it was written long ago
in a book about two
one was me
and the other
There’s no one to love. My own not knowing
catches and poisons. Bubbles, bursts and digs.
So many many many me’s………in the way of us.
She keeps laughing
Echoes. Echoes. Echoes.
Blue lights. Exposure.
“I was never a waste of your time”
thank you bare beauty. bare back.
riding wild in flux and in grace.
thank you for your storm and your beating.
thank you for my name. It means midnight.
nobody can cast their shadow upon me.
I’m talking to you
“oh beautiful sun
I never wept
Into my warm heart
falls the golden rain
My Black Redeemer
You don’t need a name”
Have you ironed out your life? Are you working on your ego? Are you only seeing good in others so that you can feel good about who you are or who you think you should be? Is that what you read in the book? Are you working very hard at being spiritual?
You are just the liar I am talking to. It’s not your fault but it’s a trap. It’s worse than the hell for sinners. Stop being a monster. You don’t love yourself. You’ve lost your riches in exchange for other people’s rules. It’s not your religion! Stop trying to be a Hindu. Stop trying to be anything. Please just stop trying altogether and when the rules and false beliefs die down….look around and find yourself there in the ruins. Fragmented and perverted. Flawed and useless. Somewhere real for once in your life. Just be there rocking in Her Shadow. Eyes wide open. Only from there will you see the beautiful sunrise. Only from there will you see when your Father comes home. The gold only rises from the black. Don’t forget that. Take it all. Take it back.
My lonely rider who carries the Stone, just keep going….
on the rail
and blue with ice
I lift the only handle
it’s melting it’s quiet
this little sinking feeling
the two doorways
deaths little spiral
it’s more than it seems
and the answer is
Love is the Fury who sees. She sees what broke in two. She sees. She sees. She sees into you.
you are the lucky one.