If

If you want to feel the past touch a rock

If you want to feel the present touch a rose

If you want to feel the past, present, and future touch the silence

Men Staring at Goats

Walk through walls… stare at old goats

Ahh... actually solids, are not as solid as they appear.

And can one walk through them?

My answer is yes, with practice

Alas… Do not get stuck.

And, about men staring at Goats.

Yes that is true, but remember—the goats as well, are staring at-the-men.

And, you ask… Which one will drop dead first.

My answer is profound, and the reader should take heart.

The one that will drop dead first is the one with the highest blood-pressure.

Heed my words! Do not eat too much red meat.

And

Goat meat … only if you dare!

By  David O Powell or... Sven Alexiev

Tis I

Junk

JUNK?

Alone at thirteen, in a seemingly uncaring, and violent world, the streets gave me no friends or toys.
My life changed … it was the month of a bitter cold November, on Friday the 13. I remember this because I discovered a treasure wrapped in a newspaper. The headlines of the paper said something about a canal.
The treasure, discarded like a piece of junk along with a half-eaten hot dog, which I devoured on the spot. The ketchup smeared over my dirty fingers... I licked it off like icing on a cake.
I retreated to my secret space, recovering my treasure at every chance I could.
The treasure taught me things that I only had dreamed about. So, I did … more and more. I dreamed.
I found other treasures—, I secreted them to my lair …, and like the father I never had, it gave me advice.
Winter came and went. I survived only by the city sewers, and the fire blazing in my mind.
It is now thirty-two years later.
Looking up from my desk, I look to the right and the left— swiveling my chair facing the rear wall, displaying numerous, collected treasures. The most coveted are the ones discarded as junk so long ago.
My books my savior of sanity, and life … discarded as junk.
I read, I imagined, and I acted aggressively with vigor!

You-Spirit

September 22, 2012

You were born before the Sun, before the wind, before the day, 

before the night and before all but my first borne.

You promised to return, when you are complete.

We wait.

creating the dream of reality...

Are we living in a dream, created by our eternal self?
Take a few minutes a day and ponder on my daily streaming thoughts.
Begin...

friday, September 21, 2012:

I'am surrounded by darkness
I'am surrounded by light
I'am surrounded by time
I'am surrounded by the absence of time
I'am creator of impossibilities
I create because I'am
Where there is hate I'am Where there is fear I'm
Where there is courage I'am
Where there is weakness I'am
Where there is love...
I'am where there is love
I'am where you are
You are where I'am