my skin has left me
holding my heart
what else can you do?
(lying)
when 5am comes
the room is so cold
the air, the sheets so thin
i never felt so naked
as i did the moment i saw it.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Saturday, February 20, 2010
jeremy n0thing's first epistle to mary magdalene
magdalene, money pit
how does your inheritance grow?
when an empty rifle smokes in the window,
when the cameras won't do justice to a widow of a giant,
cast your stones into the world.
the rags you wear hang from your shoulders
like moss dripping down from a jagged ledge
your sunken eyes crawl up and you
breathe in the dust of their retreating steps,
it's you who casts the first stone
dragging the rasp across your throat,
throw your hands down and take to the street.
magdalene, there's a bomb in your arms
let it go tonight in the face of all who scorn you
give them your hair like a rocket to the womb,
the birthplace of dynamite was drowned in chewing gum.
magdalene, mother of assassins
fill your mouth with sticks and gravel
fashion a complaint against the mawkish machinery
that sells your face for lipstick and cigarettes
tear your heart from their prowling hands,
drive nails through the sand until it comes up wood.
cloth is stripped and hung from branches
limp in the wind like flesh in the grave
yet all the while you're crying through
with arms outstretched, poised on your triggers
magdalene, you know who it is you must murder,
rise from the floor with your fists ready.
how does your inheritance grow?
when an empty rifle smokes in the window,
when the cameras won't do justice to a widow of a giant,
cast your stones into the world.
the rags you wear hang from your shoulders
like moss dripping down from a jagged ledge
your sunken eyes crawl up and you
breathe in the dust of their retreating steps,
it's you who casts the first stone
dragging the rasp across your throat,
throw your hands down and take to the street.
magdalene, there's a bomb in your arms
let it go tonight in the face of all who scorn you
give them your hair like a rocket to the womb,
the birthplace of dynamite was drowned in chewing gum.
magdalene, mother of assassins
fill your mouth with sticks and gravel
fashion a complaint against the mawkish machinery
that sells your face for lipstick and cigarettes
tear your heart from their prowling hands,
drive nails through the sand until it comes up wood.
cloth is stripped and hung from branches
limp in the wind like flesh in the grave
yet all the while you're crying through
with arms outstretched, poised on your triggers
magdalene, you know who it is you must murder,
rise from the floor with your fists ready.
Friday, February 19, 2010
two lost sparrows
unnoticed
The rain became a cold mist that hung over the stubborn field,
while the grass at my feet, trampled by the crowd, got muddy.
The wet of the canvas shoes reached my toes, and I wished to sit,
but then in your dirty jeans and damp hair you came out, yes.
You were leaning forward, swaying and singing andy warhol,
strange and beautiful like dying leaves, yes, like wasting away.
Unnoticed, the hard october wind arrived and blew upon you,
sweet ruddy skin and bare feet, and me, shaking in the cold fall.
sweet december snow fell
sweet december snow fell baby
down white feathers (falling)
asleep in soft arms (sighing)
in black branches (waiting)
in the laneway
for my ride.
three or four landing on your
hair (soft bangs), forgetting
I brushed them away
with my fingers (gently)
falling in your eyes
dark amber glass
and fire.
sweet december snow fell baby
down white feathers (falling)
asleep in soft arms (sighing)
in black branches (waiting)
in the laneway
for my ride.
three or four landing on your
hair (soft bangs), forgetting
I brushed them away
with my fingers (gently)
falling in your eyes
dark amber glass
and fire.
Sunday, February 07, 2010
Get onside
“Hey everybody! We’re starting a cult! It’s gonna be awesome! You gotta join! C’mon!”
And that was how some great new kids, with some great, fresh ideas enthusiastically embraced and promoted a new way of looking at life. A kind of ‘together’ way of looking at things. And it is indeed awesome.
I’d like to tell you a little bit about our community.
Visitors are met by Greg himself. He’s good-looking, and pretty bright, too, so he has a ‘way’ with both those who are educated, as well as those who, well, those who just like good-looking guys. To get to know how you think, he tries to get inside your head and poke around a bit. Each visitor is kind of ‘paired-up’ with Greg for a while. Lucky visitors! This gives Greg time to assess each newcomer’s potential. Potential for what, you say? Potential for awesomeness!
As Greg says, “A quest for purity in an impure world, that inward desire possessed by only the most ‘special’ among us, is the heart and soul of our society. And what could be more pure than unified thought? Unity is purity. Unity is lack of discord. A thought that unifies, purifies. The only thing that stands in the way of purity is even the smallest discord. Purify. Join us. Get onside.”
Hey Greg! I’m there, my brother. I’m so onside, it’s not funny.
We’re all planning for tonight. It’s time for another ‘Five-Nighter.’ It’s gonna be the best one ever! Five-nighters are what we call our bi-annual five-night spiritual education sessions. It’s really great.
We start by putting together our provisions for the ‘trip.’ We pack our toothbrushes (“a clean mouth is a clean heart, a filthy mouth defiles god”), our towels (to dry off after spiritual cleansing), and our notebooks (so we can write down things we learn about ourselves, and about Greg). We are not to pack a change of clothes. Why worry about physical comfort when we are there for spiritual training?
Tonight, we all are brought into the gym, and they lock the doors. No one leaves until we’re all spiritually clean! Boy, that’s gonna feel great! Then the servants roll in the coffee cart, and we all line up for our extra-large cups of strong black coffee. Two each! There won’t be any food until tomorrow, but there are jugs of sugar water for when we want to stave off any hunger pains that might unexpectedly arise. Bad, distracting hunger pains!
After about an hour of waiting (but they let us have some more coffee!) the doors suddenly swung open, a rush of fresh air flowed in, and in walked Greg. Greg! They shut the doors again, and we all were silent, but with beaming faces, as we looked upon Greg and waited for him to speak. He slowly looked around at all of us, smiling his great smile, and made sure that he made eye contact with each and everyone of us.
I love this moment. The anticipation that is building as we wait to hear his comforting voice. You can feel the energy rising in the room with an almost audible swell.
“Welcome!” Greg shouted, and we all broke into rapturous applause. After a minute or so, the servants raised their arms, and we all quieted down. “Welcome to the Five-Nighter. I look forward to your growth in knowledge and wisdom. And our growth in purity, in this community.”
“Purity, community, purity, community,…” we started softly chanting.
Over the steady rhythm of our collective voice, he continued, “I sense a little discord in you. Not a great amount, but small seeds. The goal of this Five-Nighter is to find any seeds of discord in yourselves, and crush those seeds into fine dust, and blow that dust away.”
“Purity, community, purity, community,…” we continued.
“That is your goal. Reach for the goal. Attain the goal!” And with those inspiring words, Greg turned his back to us and walked out the suddenly re-opened doors. The doors were then shut again, and locked. What excitement we’re all feeling!
Can you believe it? They brought out another coffee cart. This must be the best night ever. We all got another coffee, then we were broken up into groups of five, and we began our ‘connecting and correcting.’
We sat on the floor, cross-legged, taking turns speaking on different topics. No ‘pass’-ing. ‘Everyone talks, everyone wins,’ as you-know-who says!
We started with what we like most about Greg. Everyone always says the same things! Stuff like how wise he is, how kind he is, how smart he is, how good-looking he is. I always try to think of something new. To show how much I understand Greg. This time I talked about how brave Greg is. It’s hard to have so much responsibility, the way he takes care of all of us. It probably gets discouraging for Greg, the trouble that we sometimes cause him. So I think he’s brave to put up with us.
Next we talked about ways that each of us might have disappointed Greg this month. I said I think that Greg is concerned about the way I sometimes crave sleep. That must be disappointing for him. I’m trying to sleep less, as Greg suggests. ‘Less sleep: Awakened is a state of mind AND body.’ I have to try harder.
All of a sudden, the whistle blew. It was so loud, we all jumped! “Spiritual Cleansing!” the servants started shouting. One of them kept blowing the whistle. We all ran to the back wall, the wall where the drains had been intalled. In ran servants from doors on either side of the gym. Two servants on each side carrying the fire hoses. “ON!” one of them shouted, and suddenly we were being blasted with cold water. The force of the water coming out of the fat canvas hoses was so powerful. It was hard to stand still when it hit you. But it felt so good to be spiritually cleaned! We all were given a good soaking, then the hoses were turned off, and the only sound was the water trickling down the drains. After five minutes of ‘silent drip-drying’ in the now air-conditioned gym, we were allowed to get out towels. We were all shivering by then, so it was nice to dry off a bit more, and to wear the towel for warmth. I sat there quietly thinking, “this is so awesome!”
Now it’s time for Self-Slapping.
I sit in concentration, with my eyes squeezed tightly shut. I imagine myself perfectly following Greg’s ‘precepts for pure living,’ never making a mistake. I imagine how pleasing that must be to Greg – for him to see that his efforts at helping people are really having a positive effect; that his hard work is not in vain. I picture Greg’s face smiling.
Now I do what only community members who have made it to level three are allowed to do (this is dangerous work, so less experienced ones are not allowed to attempt it yet). Still with my eyes closed, I imagine myself disobeying Greg. Here, you have to be truthful to yourself. You have to imagine an actual time that you didn’t quite live up to Greg’s expectations. I recalled that time last week when I looked upon a carrot with ‘food lust.’ I was fasting at the time, so to even imagine eating something was as bad as actually eating it. I brought to mind that desire I had to eat the carrot. The way I thought how sweet and crunchy it would be. The way I thought that I actually needed to eat it.
My arm flew up and I open-handed slapped myself across the face as hard as I could. The stinging in my cheek and eye felt liberating! Warm, throbbing justice. I slapped myself again. To think that I craved a carrot more than Greg’s approval! Sometimes I don’t know what’s wrong with me!
Now the sweet reward: I imagine myself again doing everything perfectly, and Greg’s glorious smile beaming down on me. I put a hard candy in my mouth, and sucked on it hard as I visualized Greg’s happiness. I sucked on it no more than five times, then took it out and placed it back in the Bowl of Wisdom in front of me. Then I focused on my next transgression – really felt it – then brought my other hand across the other side of my face. Sweet stinging relief!
We all sat there slapping ourselves for quite some time – alternating visualizations of pleasing Greg, and displeasing him. To be honest, I ran out of transgressions that I could bring to mind. You’re not allowed to repeat a transgression. Greg knows that if we were allowed to repeat the visualization of transgressions, some ‘weaker’ ones might just keep going over one single mistake, and not address all of their mistakes, and avoid the areas where they need to really work. For most people, two hours of self-slapping covers all your transgressions. We wouldn’t be here if we weren’t trying our best to make Greg smile!
So when you run out, you have to start focusing on your weak nature, and how you could be drawn into displeasing Greg, if you weren’t vigilant. I thought of things other people did, like when Alan actually yawned while Greg was teaching us. How rude! I mean, I don’t care how tired you are; you don’t yawn at Greg. So I imagined myself doing such a disrespectful thing. I really let myself have it that time. My hand cracked against my cheekbone, and my fingertips bull-whipped my eye. I had to muffle my cry out in pain, and I did feel a bit dizzy. That Alan made me so mad! My eye was tearing, but I wasn’t crying.
If you really cry during a five-nighter, Greg has a private meeting with you. But it’s not a happy meeting. That’s the one time you don’t want to be talking to Greg. After a Crybaby meeting, you have to wear a sign around your neck for a whole week. That sign says, you guessed it, ‘Crybaby.’ No one is allowed to talk to you, and you also have to wear a rope around your neck. If ever I was a crybaby, I don’t know what I’d do, I’d be so ashamed. So I quickly wiped the tears away from my stinging face, and smiled up at one of the servants watching over us. “Greg is pure,” I said.
“May we all be as pure as Greg,” he replied.
The Five-Nighter continued with all the regular activities: ‘I could be better’ role-playing, vomiting over bad thoughts, EWEO (Eating with Eyes Only), humiliating the sleepy. By the last night, I was feeling great. I was kind of surprised that it ended so quickly. You always lose track of time in the middle of a five-nighter, partly due to your intense spiritual concentration, partly due to the absence of natural light and the 24-hour fluorescent lighting throughout the training.
I thought that maybe it was day three, day four at the most. Then all of a sudden, Greg’s voice came booming out over the PA system.
“Hello Five-Nighters!” he exclaimed exuberantly. We all erupted into tumultuous cheers and applause. There were a few off in the corner that appeared too dazed to know what was going on, but the rest of us understood, all right!
“You have been on an exciting journey, my little ones,” he continued. “It’s time now to come home.” You could have heard a pin drop, it became so quiet.
Click, clack, a door was unlocked. With a slight creaking sound, one of the doors to the gym opened up, and in walked Greg. He stood in the black circle of purity that was painted on the gym floor, and one-by-one we moved into a single line that began exactly ten feet from Greg. A little bell chimed, and the first one walked rapturously into Greg’s arms. You could see the warmth in Greg’s embrace as he held tightly onto each five-nighter, as they were brought to him by the sound off the little bell. He whispered words of encouragement to each of us. When it was my turn, I felt so proud! Greg took me into his arms and said quietly in my ear, “You are one of my favourites.” Oh…my….god! Will I ever stop smiling??
Now, I bet you’re dying to hear more about the cult! I’d like to tell you more, but I have a lot of work to do, so I better get going. You know what would be great though? Why don’t you come hang out with us a bit? You can meet Greg! It will be awesome!
Purify! Join us! Get onside!
And that was how some great new kids, with some great, fresh ideas enthusiastically embraced and promoted a new way of looking at life. A kind of ‘together’ way of looking at things. And it is indeed awesome.
I’d like to tell you a little bit about our community.
Visitors are met by Greg himself. He’s good-looking, and pretty bright, too, so he has a ‘way’ with both those who are educated, as well as those who, well, those who just like good-looking guys. To get to know how you think, he tries to get inside your head and poke around a bit. Each visitor is kind of ‘paired-up’ with Greg for a while. Lucky visitors! This gives Greg time to assess each newcomer’s potential. Potential for what, you say? Potential for awesomeness!
As Greg says, “A quest for purity in an impure world, that inward desire possessed by only the most ‘special’ among us, is the heart and soul of our society. And what could be more pure than unified thought? Unity is purity. Unity is lack of discord. A thought that unifies, purifies. The only thing that stands in the way of purity is even the smallest discord. Purify. Join us. Get onside.”
Hey Greg! I’m there, my brother. I’m so onside, it’s not funny.
We’re all planning for tonight. It’s time for another ‘Five-Nighter.’ It’s gonna be the best one ever! Five-nighters are what we call our bi-annual five-night spiritual education sessions. It’s really great.
We start by putting together our provisions for the ‘trip.’ We pack our toothbrushes (“a clean mouth is a clean heart, a filthy mouth defiles god”), our towels (to dry off after spiritual cleansing), and our notebooks (so we can write down things we learn about ourselves, and about Greg). We are not to pack a change of clothes. Why worry about physical comfort when we are there for spiritual training?
Tonight, we all are brought into the gym, and they lock the doors. No one leaves until we’re all spiritually clean! Boy, that’s gonna feel great! Then the servants roll in the coffee cart, and we all line up for our extra-large cups of strong black coffee. Two each! There won’t be any food until tomorrow, but there are jugs of sugar water for when we want to stave off any hunger pains that might unexpectedly arise. Bad, distracting hunger pains!
After about an hour of waiting (but they let us have some more coffee!) the doors suddenly swung open, a rush of fresh air flowed in, and in walked Greg. Greg! They shut the doors again, and we all were silent, but with beaming faces, as we looked upon Greg and waited for him to speak. He slowly looked around at all of us, smiling his great smile, and made sure that he made eye contact with each and everyone of us.
I love this moment. The anticipation that is building as we wait to hear his comforting voice. You can feel the energy rising in the room with an almost audible swell.
“Welcome!” Greg shouted, and we all broke into rapturous applause. After a minute or so, the servants raised their arms, and we all quieted down. “Welcome to the Five-Nighter. I look forward to your growth in knowledge and wisdom. And our growth in purity, in this community.”
“Purity, community, purity, community,…” we started softly chanting.
Over the steady rhythm of our collective voice, he continued, “I sense a little discord in you. Not a great amount, but small seeds. The goal of this Five-Nighter is to find any seeds of discord in yourselves, and crush those seeds into fine dust, and blow that dust away.”
“Purity, community, purity, community,…” we continued.
“That is your goal. Reach for the goal. Attain the goal!” And with those inspiring words, Greg turned his back to us and walked out the suddenly re-opened doors. The doors were then shut again, and locked. What excitement we’re all feeling!
Can you believe it? They brought out another coffee cart. This must be the best night ever. We all got another coffee, then we were broken up into groups of five, and we began our ‘connecting and correcting.’
We sat on the floor, cross-legged, taking turns speaking on different topics. No ‘pass’-ing. ‘Everyone talks, everyone wins,’ as you-know-who says!
We started with what we like most about Greg. Everyone always says the same things! Stuff like how wise he is, how kind he is, how smart he is, how good-looking he is. I always try to think of something new. To show how much I understand Greg. This time I talked about how brave Greg is. It’s hard to have so much responsibility, the way he takes care of all of us. It probably gets discouraging for Greg, the trouble that we sometimes cause him. So I think he’s brave to put up with us.
Next we talked about ways that each of us might have disappointed Greg this month. I said I think that Greg is concerned about the way I sometimes crave sleep. That must be disappointing for him. I’m trying to sleep less, as Greg suggests. ‘Less sleep: Awakened is a state of mind AND body.’ I have to try harder.
All of a sudden, the whistle blew. It was so loud, we all jumped! “Spiritual Cleansing!” the servants started shouting. One of them kept blowing the whistle. We all ran to the back wall, the wall where the drains had been intalled. In ran servants from doors on either side of the gym. Two servants on each side carrying the fire hoses. “ON!” one of them shouted, and suddenly we were being blasted with cold water. The force of the water coming out of the fat canvas hoses was so powerful. It was hard to stand still when it hit you. But it felt so good to be spiritually cleaned! We all were given a good soaking, then the hoses were turned off, and the only sound was the water trickling down the drains. After five minutes of ‘silent drip-drying’ in the now air-conditioned gym, we were allowed to get out towels. We were all shivering by then, so it was nice to dry off a bit more, and to wear the towel for warmth. I sat there quietly thinking, “this is so awesome!”
Now it’s time for Self-Slapping.
I sit in concentration, with my eyes squeezed tightly shut. I imagine myself perfectly following Greg’s ‘precepts for pure living,’ never making a mistake. I imagine how pleasing that must be to Greg – for him to see that his efforts at helping people are really having a positive effect; that his hard work is not in vain. I picture Greg’s face smiling.
Now I do what only community members who have made it to level three are allowed to do (this is dangerous work, so less experienced ones are not allowed to attempt it yet). Still with my eyes closed, I imagine myself disobeying Greg. Here, you have to be truthful to yourself. You have to imagine an actual time that you didn’t quite live up to Greg’s expectations. I recalled that time last week when I looked upon a carrot with ‘food lust.’ I was fasting at the time, so to even imagine eating something was as bad as actually eating it. I brought to mind that desire I had to eat the carrot. The way I thought how sweet and crunchy it would be. The way I thought that I actually needed to eat it.
My arm flew up and I open-handed slapped myself across the face as hard as I could. The stinging in my cheek and eye felt liberating! Warm, throbbing justice. I slapped myself again. To think that I craved a carrot more than Greg’s approval! Sometimes I don’t know what’s wrong with me!
Now the sweet reward: I imagine myself again doing everything perfectly, and Greg’s glorious smile beaming down on me. I put a hard candy in my mouth, and sucked on it hard as I visualized Greg’s happiness. I sucked on it no more than five times, then took it out and placed it back in the Bowl of Wisdom in front of me. Then I focused on my next transgression – really felt it – then brought my other hand across the other side of my face. Sweet stinging relief!
We all sat there slapping ourselves for quite some time – alternating visualizations of pleasing Greg, and displeasing him. To be honest, I ran out of transgressions that I could bring to mind. You’re not allowed to repeat a transgression. Greg knows that if we were allowed to repeat the visualization of transgressions, some ‘weaker’ ones might just keep going over one single mistake, and not address all of their mistakes, and avoid the areas where they need to really work. For most people, two hours of self-slapping covers all your transgressions. We wouldn’t be here if we weren’t trying our best to make Greg smile!
So when you run out, you have to start focusing on your weak nature, and how you could be drawn into displeasing Greg, if you weren’t vigilant. I thought of things other people did, like when Alan actually yawned while Greg was teaching us. How rude! I mean, I don’t care how tired you are; you don’t yawn at Greg. So I imagined myself doing such a disrespectful thing. I really let myself have it that time. My hand cracked against my cheekbone, and my fingertips bull-whipped my eye. I had to muffle my cry out in pain, and I did feel a bit dizzy. That Alan made me so mad! My eye was tearing, but I wasn’t crying.
If you really cry during a five-nighter, Greg has a private meeting with you. But it’s not a happy meeting. That’s the one time you don’t want to be talking to Greg. After a Crybaby meeting, you have to wear a sign around your neck for a whole week. That sign says, you guessed it, ‘Crybaby.’ No one is allowed to talk to you, and you also have to wear a rope around your neck. If ever I was a crybaby, I don’t know what I’d do, I’d be so ashamed. So I quickly wiped the tears away from my stinging face, and smiled up at one of the servants watching over us. “Greg is pure,” I said.
“May we all be as pure as Greg,” he replied.
The Five-Nighter continued with all the regular activities: ‘I could be better’ role-playing, vomiting over bad thoughts, EWEO (Eating with Eyes Only), humiliating the sleepy. By the last night, I was feeling great. I was kind of surprised that it ended so quickly. You always lose track of time in the middle of a five-nighter, partly due to your intense spiritual concentration, partly due to the absence of natural light and the 24-hour fluorescent lighting throughout the training.
I thought that maybe it was day three, day four at the most. Then all of a sudden, Greg’s voice came booming out over the PA system.
“Hello Five-Nighters!” he exclaimed exuberantly. We all erupted into tumultuous cheers and applause. There were a few off in the corner that appeared too dazed to know what was going on, but the rest of us understood, all right!
“You have been on an exciting journey, my little ones,” he continued. “It’s time now to come home.” You could have heard a pin drop, it became so quiet.
Click, clack, a door was unlocked. With a slight creaking sound, one of the doors to the gym opened up, and in walked Greg. He stood in the black circle of purity that was painted on the gym floor, and one-by-one we moved into a single line that began exactly ten feet from Greg. A little bell chimed, and the first one walked rapturously into Greg’s arms. You could see the warmth in Greg’s embrace as he held tightly onto each five-nighter, as they were brought to him by the sound off the little bell. He whispered words of encouragement to each of us. When it was my turn, I felt so proud! Greg took me into his arms and said quietly in my ear, “You are one of my favourites.” Oh…my….god! Will I ever stop smiling??
Now, I bet you’re dying to hear more about the cult! I’d like to tell you more, but I have a lot of work to do, so I better get going. You know what would be great though? Why don’t you come hang out with us a bit? You can meet Greg! It will be awesome!
Purify! Join us! Get onside!
Friday, February 05, 2010
Bill sells books
Discounts drop,
A woman pretends to enjoy the books,
Bill licks his lips.
Fluorescent-lit dim books in racks,
Bad font in plastic wrap,
Bestsellers flop.
Another one walks into the shop,
Leaves fast but takes a list,
Bill licks his lips.
Bill looks up, adjusts his specs,
Takes an order with smiles and grunts.
Synapses pop.
"I'm staying ‘til the last one leaves."
(No one knows the life I've led)
The door creaks.
Bill licks his lips.
A woman pretends to enjoy the books,
Bill licks his lips.
Fluorescent-lit dim books in racks,
Bad font in plastic wrap,
Bestsellers flop.
Another one walks into the shop,
Leaves fast but takes a list,
Bill licks his lips.
Bill looks up, adjusts his specs,
Takes an order with smiles and grunts.
Synapses pop.
"I'm staying ‘til the last one leaves."
(No one knows the life I've led)
The door creaks.
Bill licks his lips.
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