An Ordinary Mystic

Keep your head up, pay attention to your entire field of vision,
and never carry a weapon you're not prepared to use.
Don't attract attention. Blend in, but be yourself,
because ultimately it's all you've got.
Choose wisely, attachment breeds suffering
but without it, life is meaningless.
Suffer fools gladly, avoid confrontation,
and always be prepared to die.
Any moment could be your last.
Nothing really matters but every move counts,
so act like you know what you're doing
and maybe it will help.

Posted by Don at 04:23 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

This can only end badly

I am the groove man,
known by my absence,
my spaces tracing
the contour of your soul
exciting your vibrations,
liberating your music.
I am an existential ghoul
licking the wounds of your life,
sucking the pain from your breast
your nipples hard red angry sore from a thousand wants.
We fumble around the spaces
pretending not to notice the cracked facades,
broken promises and dreams disappearing
over the hill with someone who might not be back.

Posted by Don at 08:50 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

A self

a place to be
each moment
of every step

born from labor and separation
banished when first we leave our father's loins
expelled from our mother's wombs we dwell alone

experience only ours
each moment a star
glistening in the existential universe
where we dwell like gods creating our existence

weaving the space time cloth
which clothes the unfathomable nothingness
from whence we come and go
eternity after eternity
in a celebratory procession
of our selves to perfection

© Copyright 2002 Don Anderson (UN: ordinarymystic at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Don Anderson has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

Continue reading "A Self" »

Posted by Don at 10:42 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

If I knew where I was going, I could figure out how to get there,
but I'm just passing through, so it really doesn't matter.
If anyone should ask, please say you saw me,
but if you're the only one who remembers,
that's OK too. I'll probably forget.

We all have to protect ourselves.
I was an Armadillo once, but that got boring,
so now I pretend that I don't really care.
Not that I do, do wah, do wah do wah ditty,
talk about the girl from New York City.
What shall we do next?
It's your turn to sit under the Apple,
and I'll shoot the arrow.

© Copyright 2002 Don Anderson (UN: ordinarymystic at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Don Anderson has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

Posted by Don at 06:50 PM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

The road of responsibility runs through my heart
littered with the roadkill of my emotions,
run over by obligations, run over in the line of duty,
run over and left to die, on the concrete desert
covering the contours and surfaces of my soul.

I am an eviscerated mind hurtling along a highway
calculating the shortest point between the lines of authority
composed of quirks and quarks, blinking and spinning
the space-time cloth from infinite possibilities
one step ahead to nowhere.

I have a map but there are no exits
so what's the rush, sooner or later
you get everywhere traveling forever,
anywhere you choose, picking and choosing reality,
ordering each moment from an infinite invisible menu
written in a secret language, in a diner on the turnpike to tomorrow
where a strangely compelling stranger, in the next booth
rises to leave, before awakening to resume the journey.

© Copyright 2004 Don Anderson (UN: ordinarymystic at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Don Anderson has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

Posted by Don at 08:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

When the day dawns pointless and insecure,
the underbelly of the beast beckons like the smells
that rise from mama's kitchen, in swirls like the water
around Ahab's whale, to waltz with thoughts
too dark to speak even to a faceless lover,
determined to ride forever the impulse to extinction,
aching for submission; desire in all directions
calls with the Sirens' song.

© Copyright 2005 Don Anderson (UN: ordinarymystic at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.

Posted by Don at 07:59 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Heaven

Heaven would be a life of ease
where you wake up rested
and not in pain.
No boredom or loneliness
and God looking like my grandmother
with her infinite patience.
Nothing bad would happen;
eternal contentment.

© Copyright 2005 Don Anderson (UN: ordinarymystic at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.

Posted by Don at 06:21 PM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

The day without knowing crawled blindly over the horizon
groping the remnants of my dreams and startling the uncertain crows
from pecking my heart into bits too small to be sewn to your sleeve.

You waited in my unconscious while flowers grew up in a blaze of passion,
opening themselves to the blunt soles of passersby then were forgotten
amid the drudgery of daily life, wearing thin romantic finery until apathy replaced contempt.

Night fell again obscuring the stain of my existence
until nothing remained but the gleam in my eye
and my breath on your neck

Heaven is only an instant that lasts forever not this ruin of dreams
and good intentions postponed to get to work on time, meet deadlines
perpetuating a passionless desert of duty peopled by intimate strangers
begging to be touched.

I pulled your words close to me their syllables conforming
to the awkward angles of my body like a child with a blanket in the darkness
and cursed the night for having a million eyes and no mouth.

© Copyright 2002 Don Anderson (UN: ordinarymystic at Writing.Com). All rights reserved

Posted by Don at 01:55 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Trapped by a circle bed
I was forced into being
only being
no doing
no sensation
save pain
I learned to breathe
riding consciousness like a cosmic surfer
between ecstasy and annihilation
along a wave of existence
God's chosen for this moment

© Copyright 2005 Don Anderson (UN: ordinarymystic at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.

Continue reading "Circle bed" »

Posted by Don at 05:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

Desiderata 2005

Go forth with hope and certainty amid chaos and destruction
secure in the knowledge that no good deed goes unpunished.
Do not turn not your gaze from the pain of your neighbor or enable him.
Cover your ass and your genitals, minimize the former and exaggerate the latter.
Trust everyone, to have a good excuse for letting you down. and never expect more than you can give.
Companionship is motivated by self-interest, it always comes at a price. be grateful for the company.
Remember that lasting affirmation only comes from within and the cost of delusion is madness

© Copyright 2005 Don Anderson (UN: ordinarymystic at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.

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