Sunday, December 5, 2010



Looking over notes scribbled on a note pad
In the car, in the dark, waiting in front of the
Garden Center at the Building Supply Store
I can hardly make out my own handwriting.

When I was younger, it says
What is that thing I left undone?
That thing that keeps me here?
Keeps me going to some place and time unknown.

I have been lost
I have been found
I have been in the Lost and Found
The Underground

There have been times
That I wanted to just disappear
Or be someone or somewhere else
But insanity follows you every where you go

I hear a call from some far off place
Sometimes I even hear my name being called
In my sleep at night
My old name - the one I never use any more.

I look at things and try to see all the way to the core
See the essence of whatever it is
What makes a table a table?
Does the wood it is made of have molecules

Of Tableness?

Are trees pre-tables and pre-houses?
Would they be something else if they had a choice?
Thoughts fill my head about Love and Peace
But do you see it in the world today?

Why is good harder than evil?
Why is seeing the worst in people easier than the best?
Why is it easier to be bad than to be good?
I think our questions have answers all around us
We just don't recognize them.

I want to know where we all came from
And where we are going
And what will happen when all is said and done.
How may things are there to say?
And how many things to do?

Seems like after a while we will be repeating ourselves.
Well hell, it's obvious we are already doing that
We constantly make the same mistakes
Do the wrong thing at the right time.

And vice-versa...

Ah yes, the old Vice-Versa

The Pete and Repete

The Heckle and Jeckle

The Red Rover of life.

Send us all over
And over and over and over...
Till we drop and our very atoms dissipate
Into the nether-worlds we emanated from.

But who wrote the rules of this game?
Who made him God?
I guess he's a do it yourself God
Play by these rules or get another game.

When I was young I must have forgotten
To do something important
Something that would save us all
And we would win this Game of Life.

Say the Magic Woid and a
Duck Drops from The Ceiling.

Groucho knew the answers...

© 2010 Philip G. DeLoach

Tuesday, September 7, 2010



Our souls are like raindrops
One is infinitesimal
But as they gather together in their journey through life
They become a torrent.

Swirling, blending, intertwining and separating
Only to come together again
We may not even notice the gathering
The constant accumulation of like minded seekers.

Some move fast and directly toward the destination
Some meander and leisurely mark their course
There are more souls alive today than have ever lived before
That staggers my mind to think of things that way.

Some souls are one of many that were joined at one time
As part of an Oversoul
An entity that is larger than the sum of it's parts
We may not recognize our former partners.

But sometimes we have the good fortune to know
Instinctively that another soul used to be a part of you and you a part of it
The constant ebb and flow of the tide of souls makes us all brothers and sisters
Under the skin.

We move toward one destination
One point in time and space
That destination is also our point of departure
We all left home in order to find it and in the process

We find each other.

© 2010 Philip G. DeLoach

Saturday, September 4, 2010

What About the Little People

What about the Little People?

Once I thought I saw a small little man
In the corner of my eye I saw him
just as he disappeared behind a tree
I could hear his laughter at my perplexity.

I didn't know whether to be afraid or just curious
I knew it was not a normal thing but I have never been normal
So I went to the tree and all I found was a hole where a pair
of Flickers lived.

I saw more than one of the little people
Wearing their ragged clothes
climbing around and hopping like squirrels
Some male, some female.

I could hear them talking sometimes
But I couldn't understand their language
Their laughter sounded like little bells or crickets chirping
Most of the time I could not see them but I could tell they were watching me.

They were usually about a foot tall
They didn't look like Leprechauns
Usually you saw them in the corner of your eye
If you looked directly at them they would be gone.

They lived around the base of an ancient Chinaberry Tree
I think there was a connection between them and the Flickers
I suppose they looked out for each other
That is the only place I ever saw them.

I saw other things inside the house
People standing in doorways
Transparent cats scurrying across the room
Things that seemed to come out of the wall and go through the next wall.

I don't think I'm hallucinating
I don't think I'm crazy
Hell, I don't care if I am
I'm not bothering anybody else.

I've always believed that people used to be able to fly
And that they could walk through walls
I have done both while asleep and I don't think I was dreaming
Dreams have a different feeling to them.

I worry about what will happen to all these little people
When we destroy their world
We cut that old Chinaberry Tree down
And I never saw the little people or the Flickers again.

© 2010 Philip G. DeLoach

Monday, August 30, 2010

Who Where Why When

Who, Where, Why and When

While walking down a dusty road
With dry dust popping up like puffs of smoke
I felt a change in the wind
I smelled a change coming.

The slant of the sun as it drifted behind the trees
Told me of coming chill
There were lots of butterflies this year
But they are mostly gone now.

What few friends I found in the last few years
Seem to have gone the way of most
Here today and gone tomorrow
And this road seems like it goes forever.

I hear voices in my head
Like a group of people
Holding a meeting
Deciding our direction and destination.

I hear my name in a gust of wind
I can barely see the veil that separates us from our real selves
Sometimes that veil lifts
And we see who we really are.

There seems to be clockwork wheels that turn the engines of time
Some forward, some backwards but always moving
It is inescapable but if you realize that it doesn't matter anyway
That time is just a measurement of movement, not actual time.

Actual time does not move
We flit about or drag through it
Depending on our perception of it
The farther you go the shorter the distance.

One dusty day we will meet ourselves going the other way
That day be sure and say hello
It may make your day
For at least one of you.

The Kudzu is blooming outside now
Smells just like Grape Candy
Unstoppable weed, Kudzu
Grows no matter what.

It comes and goes every year
But even though it dies each winter
There's always more of it the next year
More Kudzu, less time.

Can't stop neither one
Guess you just have to put up with it all
Well, I hear that Crow a-calling
Guess I'll move on along.

© 2010 Philip G. DeLoach

Monday, August 23, 2010

The Hall of The Ancients

I wandered through the mountains and valleys of my dreams
Searching for the Hall of the Ancients
I was told by a falling leaf
To look in a spot behind my eyes.

While searching I see a pinpoint of light.
I suddenly realize I am already in the Hall
I expected a vast expanse of marble and Lapis
Golden chalices.

Instead I found a dusty cave with the remnants of different civilizations
The artifacts of man's mischief and ego
Weapons and thrones in piles like so many sticks of wood
We have conquered and been conquered so many times.

The true reason for existence
Is supposed to be housed in this Hall
The Truth in an Emerald Box
I find no box such as this.

Even though the Hall is dark I have no trouble seeing
Our reign over Earth has really been a short one
We are nowhere near as smart or as strong as we think
Glorious Empires are now just piles of dust and withered bones.

Where are the Ancients who are the Archivists?
The faithful Watchmen of History?
I see no such personage here
As a matter of fact I see no one save myself.

I found an old bronze plaque
On it was written, "You Will Find your Future, in the Dust of Your Past"
How can that be?
I finally realized that we are doomed to repeat our failures.

Until we learn a different way
A different path
Where greed and power are not the lamplight
And neither are they the Path to Peace.

I suddenly felt I was not alone
I saw a tiny mouse on a little ledge
He spoke to me in a loud clear voice
He asked "Whose truth do you seek?"
I said "My Own
And the Truth of the Ancients"
He said "there is only one Ancient left
And I am he".

I said "That is impossible!"
What Truth is here in all this dusty rubble?
The mouse said "Commit the same deeds, reap the same reward"
I said, "Is there any way to change this Path?"

He said, "Do you remember the blue pinpoint of light you first saw?"
I said "Yes what is that"
He said "It is the entrance to the Hall of the Ancients"
I asked "But what about the secrets of the Ancients?"

He just said "They have never been secret,
You have been told through every generation of your
time on Earth, you just failed to listen".
Think about it.

You will continue on this path until you either change it
Or you eventually destroy it yourself by your own hand.

God has no need to destroy the World
You have the power to do that yourself.

Go now, and think of a different and better future.
You just may have it.

©2010 Philip G. DeLoach

Just fell in from Alpha Centauri

Landed Earth 11:44 PM Eastern Time Sunday and there seems to be no intelligent life around at this time.