Old Scratch

Old Scratch

It's not but one hop, skip, and jump from
Akron to Dacron, to Polyester Preacherman
Who preaches against everything he can think of.
We are all evil and in the clutches of Satan.

And then when the Preacherman is so exhausted
He finally goes home.
Takes off his Preacherman Suit and is Old Scratch Himself.
Grinning and strutting like a Banty Rooster!

"Those fools will never know what hit 'em he screamed!"
And sadly he may be right.
If anyone takes any of these Proselytizing Pro Haters Seriously
They must have been brainwashed or brain dead.

But a lot of people do take them very seriously.
Enough to even vote for them as President of the United States.
It is Insanity personified.
The Bull and the Shit have come together as one.

And they boast and bluster like the Buccaneers of the old days
They will set things straight!
They will get our country back!
They will do away with the Sinners and the Terrorists.

How can anyone with a brain possibly take these
highly paid Buffoons seriously?
It is unbelievable that they have come as far as they already have.
What will it take to stop them?

This country already has ceased to be a representative Democracy.
The Foxes have killed the chickens in the Hen house and now
There is nothing left but Foxes.
Our Civil Rights are being flushed down the Presidential Commode.

The ones who are supposedly on our side are doing nothing.
They are either stupid, wearing blinders, or are so rich and arrogant
that they think the Republicrats will shoot themselves in the foot
and will be easily defeated.

Trouble is the Republicrats and their Evangelical hordes
have taken over governments on every level including State, County, Local.
They are making laws that to anyone who is not an idiot would know is
either illegal, unconstitutional, or Fascist.

A third of the people are waiting for the Second Coming, another third are waiting for the First Coming, and another third don't believe anybody's coming at all.
And some are waiting for the Starship to come and get the "Chosen Ones".

This insanity is leading up to what I think will be the most insane Presidential election in this country's long history. Also one of the most corrupt and illegal elections. The Republicrats have already given the Presidency to George Bush twice. He was appointed the first time, not elected, and the second time it was illegally given to him by ballot tampering and other crooked means.

Voting has become an exercise in futility.

What do we do now?

© Feb 27, 2012 Philip G. DeLoach

A Japanese Garden

A Japanese Garden

My mind floats just inches above the smooth still water
in a pond in the center of a Japanese garden.
I smell the water.
I see the flash of red, gold, and white
swimming below me.

In the soft breeze that gently rustles the bamboo.
I smell the delicious odors of orchids and clematis.
My body is nowhere to be found.
There is no pain, no sensation at all.

My mind is an integral part of the garden.
The Moon bridge is displaying it's round reflection.
Half bridge, half water.

As I drift across the water, not touching it but barely
separated from it I feel the humidity and cleansing vapor.
This cleanses my mind and soul.

I hear the songs of many birds.
Their joyful chorus adds beauty to the whole completeness
that is the Garden.

All sights, sounds, colors, smells, and the living Garden
is one entity.
Just like the Earth is a living being.
All parts of a larger whole.
Nothing is static, it is only still.

As the fog lifts my mind follows.
I drift up into the smell of pine and willow.
I become all that I sense.
I am the Garden.

I will stay as long as I am allowed.

© Jan. 1, 2012 Philip G. DeLoach

Song of Day and Night

Song of Day and Night

You know when the morning looks at you
and sings of Mysteries
and the Trees take up the chorus
one by one.

Singing in Harmony with the birds,
the Rose Colored Face of Morning gradually gives way
to the bright Lyrical Chant of Day.
We are alive and we are Here.

As the day progresses it mellows it's tone
to a more relaxed color … Greens and Blues and Browns …
The Chirp and Tweek and Rustle
Letting the Ones Who Know that someone is afoot.

The Raven croaks "They are Here!"
Nothing moves without notice.
Every warble, every shaft of light reflected
on the dust of the day
shows where we have been and where we are going.

You sing so sweetly,
you Sky…you Siren of the Living Earth.
How can we not Hear?
How can we not know?

You leave us a Lullaby of Stars
in the Blanket of Night.
Each Star sings it's own Note.
A symphony of tiny bells to lull us to sleep..
To Dream of days to come, and ways to go.

Sing me to sleep tonight Sky…
Tonight, and I will thank you in the morning...

© Jan , 2012 Philip G. DeLoach

The Other Side of Now

The Other Side of Now

I find myself standing on the other side
Of what I thought was reality.
I can see the other side but cannot touch it.

I am gripped in the quantum clutches of time/space...
Being at once torn asunder and simultaneously
Reconstructed in first this place and that place.

I look in the mirror and there is no one there
Looking back at me.
Other times I look in the mirror and see
rows and rows of mirrors reflecting the same me
over and over.

The same me but in a different setting,
a different time and place
I wonder who is the real me that I call "Me"?
Days and nights flash by like the windows of a speeding train

In each window there is a Me looking out with a puzzled look
Mouthing the words "Where Am I?"
The days and nights the darks and lights
Become years as time speeds up the closer I get
To whatever destination I am supposed to have.

I feel the pull of a presence that is overwhelming
Calling me out. Calling my name.
I have many names.
Names that have changed with the
Seasons of my life.

Seasons of happy times and sad times
of Death and Birth, Creation and Destruction.
I have participated in them all.
They are all necessary lessons on how to be human.

The Universe of opposites. A Universe that is as small as a pin point
And as large as the largest thing imaginable at the same time.
I am here...I am there... I am nowhere ...except where the "I" that I am is.

Push a button, blow up the world.
Pick a flower and blow up a Universe.
They are both the same.

Peace is to not have to wonder any more.
Peace is to know the paths and the destinations
and the fact that that all exist all the time in one place and in one time,
the Everlasting Now.
Nothing else exists.
Everything else is illusion.
Smoke and mirrors.

We wait for the world to wake up and discover
that it has been sleeping
for thousands of years.
Many histories have come and gone and
still more regenerate.
A Phoenix being born of Fire.

I wish that Peace was possible.
Paradise is within our grasp.
Except for the failings of mankind in seeing
what the important things in life are.

What flight we could have over cloud tops and moonbeams
with the wind in our hair and the smell of all seasons
of Eternities blowing from nostril to mind.
Sights, Sounds, Smells, all become one bright wind
that blows within and without us.

The ecstasy of complete freedom.
The Serenity of complete Peace.
The warmth and comfort of Unquestioning
and Encompassing Love.

To be what we are supposed to be
And what we really already are
except we can not realize it until we allow
ourselves to experience it.

We must take that step into the unknown.

© Dec. 20, 2011 Philip G. DeLoach

Spiral Wind

Spiral Wind

I feel the rush of the blue white wind.
Spiraling upward ... ever upward.
There is a chill running up my spine as I soar...
I am going up and disintegrating as I travel.

I am still whole, I am still me.
I can see, feel, hear, smell, touch,
but I cannot speak.
There are no words to describe the ascent.

There are places between places and places
Where inside and outside exist together.
The love of the Universe is so expansive
That time and space matter no more.

I am. ... I am here.
That is all that matters.

I know not the destination of this wind.
this maelstrom of sound light and movement,
blue, white, blue, white...
Swirls of rainbows interspersed.

The roar is so intense that it is melodic.
There is a background of celestial music
incased within the upward and outward movement.

The songs of millions of Angels all in perfect harmony
Sing to the Joy of Being.
It is a special gift to be able to hear these sounds
And to feel the wind that dis-assembles but does not harm you.

You are whole and you are free.
You have been delivered.
You have arrived.
Home at last.
I am going home.
Home is here now.

© Dec 2 2011 Philip G. DeLoach