Monday, October 31, 2016

All Hollow's Eve

Costumed kids collecting candy,
creeping down the street,
feeling high and sort of sneaky,
chanting trick or treat.

Giggling ghosts and half-pint horrors
come knocking at your door,
begging you to give them gifts
and always wanting more.

On this night of fear-feigned fright,
underneath an ugly sky,
there is a boy with half a knife
gouged deep into his eye.

He's lying still upon a lawn
with no one else around.
Is he dead or is he waiting...
just waiting to be found?

A group of ghouls call his name,
but still he doesn't stir.
Not until they gather round
can they be truly sure.

So, one by one, they cross the lawn
that's wet with dusk and dew,
silent as the midnight hour,
until the boy bursts, "BOO!"

The children scream and scatter out
into the fading light,
pretending that they can't be scared
on this All-Hallowed night.

Copyright 2015. JourneyHolm. All Rights Reserved.

Thursday, October 27, 2016

Satan's Song

Satan's seduction stirs society,
singing sweet songs selling sin.
Sistine sanctuaries sate semblances
so seekers stay still; such sordid sorrows.
Somewhere, someone stands strong,
saying, "Stop sitting silently!"
Still singing, Satan stockpiles
sundry sellouts stupefied since Sunday.
Swiftly, seduction snatches souls.
So simple.
So sickening.
So sad.

Wednesday, October 26, 2016


I woke up to Emma jumping off the bed.  Too tired to take her out, I mumbled, "Not now," as she pulled at the covers. I peered at the blurry clock.  Still four hours of sleep left.

She began sniffing around the room like a bloodhound.

"Go to sleep!"

As she settled on the floor, I reached down to rustle her fur. My hand landed on cold, clamy skin. That's strange, I thought, already halfway asleep.

She started breathing asthmatically; short crackly breaths.


She barked her response from the hallway.

I froze as something tugged at the covers.

Copyright 2015. JourneyHolm. All Rights Reserved.

Tuesday, October 25, 2016

What Makes a Monster

What makes a monster is his teeth,
set in deep a drooling sheath.
His eyes are fierce and full of hate,
locked on targets, none abate.
His claws are long and sharp as knives,
stained red with blood of victim's lives.
His scaly skin, a sickly green,
spawns visage of a hellish fiend.
When he's near, children cry--
the sound of his sweet lullaby.
His name is spoken in hushed tones
for fear that he will gnash their bones.
What really makes a monstrous beast
is a heart as cold as those deceased.

Copyright 2015. JourneyHolm. All Rights Reserved.

Friday, October 21, 2016

Don't Read This!

This is a purposeless entry meant to serve a point.  There is really no reason for me to be writing this right now and there is certainly no reason for you to be reading this right now, but, I'll tell you one thing, I can read your mind.

For example, I know that you are reading this right now and thinking to yourself that I can't read your mind.  Now you are rejecting the notion that I continue to read your mind and are thinking that you know what I am doing.  O that was obvious wasn't it?

Thursday, October 20, 2016

End of the Bourgeoisie

Rise up and take back your power!

The sea slowly swirls up the steps creating a panic that rises with every breath.
The potential for death is but an arm’s length away, yet it feels so distant.
Engulfed in thrashing waves, our small vessel fights for its life—resistant.
The boards of the boat groan against the constant barrage of freezing water and ocean spray,
If they hold together, we may finally appreciate the dawn of day.
Otherwise, we will sink into an icy prison—our destiny—
derived by the blind production of higher classes and pedigree.
Perhaps we sailed out too soon, making a wrong decision.
The cracking of the hull symbolizes the end of the bourgeois vision.

Wednesday, October 19, 2016

Tao and the Buddha Nature

The last leaf falls upon the forest floor,
breathing life nevermore.
Replaced by a bud that takes its place
In essential essence, they have the same face.
Is there a difference between the two?
There probably is if it’s up to me or you,
because we see through egoic eyes
and therefore believe these egoic lies.
If truth be told, the leaves are the same,
but still you play this egoic game.
The leaves are Buddhas and they are all around,
on top of the forest and below on the ground.
For if we were to truly see,
we'd see that there is no leaf, but moreso a tree.
But wait, it's not over, you still see division and distinction.
Eliminate this derision and put into extinction
these thoughts that we are separate from all of this.
Once this is done, what's left is bliss.
But don't get greedy, Mr. Needy,
this bliss is not for you or me.
For so long as we think in terms of me or I,
we will be living in a blissless lie.
However, if you sit and relax your mind,
leaving all the world behind,
You'll start to be in the here and now.
Those who understand call it the Tao.

Tuesday, October 18, 2016

A Slow, Soft Inchworm

A slow, soft inchworm rapped on my driver-side window while I sat at a stoplight earlier this afternoon. Nearly a millimeter long, it's fluorescent lime-green body begged me to allow him inside, so that I may save him from impending highway hell. Filled with a sense of the divine, I realized that its life was in my hands.

I decided to have mercy and rolled down my window to allow this innocent fellow into my car. My heart warmed as he inched his way toward the interior of my vehicle. At one point he stopped and looked up at me, as if with a smile, to thank me for my kindness. I could see his tiny pinpoint eyes and gave him a little wink.

The green light was fast approaching, so I mentally willed my new friend to hurry and make his way to safety. When he approached the gap of the rolled down window, I realized that he was too small to make it across the black plastic slit between the outer and inner part of the window. Feeling generous and extremely gentle, I went to help him across, intending to free him on a juicy leaf in my back yard once I returned home.

Reaching out as carefully I could, I missed picking him up and accidentally knocked him into the deep, dark chasm where my window lay concealed, forever losing my freeway friend. I thought that maybe, if I rolled up the window, he would be sitting on top of it, safe and sound like a king conquering a new land. He wasn't. The light turned green and I was forced to drive away.

Not one car around me sensed this great loss. Not one person could imagine my sorrow. I wondered if this is how God feels every time divine intervention takes a turn for the worst. Would this inchworm have lived if I had decided to leave it alone? These thoughts and feelings of loneliness filled my mind as I raced away from this morbid scene forever.

Sunday, October 16, 2016

A Soft Drizzle

Sitting silently, listening to the soft sounds of summer rain cleansing my tension and washing away all the pain.  The dripping drops a delightful dew not meant to wait for morn.  Breathing breath brings bits of insight--sensations like a child being born.

Eyes are open and then they close, sitting firmly upon the earth in my pyramid-like pose.  The grass so green my heart can hardly handle its soft swaying upon the ground.  If ever there was a perfect moment, surely it has been found.  

When rain hits my spine, it never really trickles down a direct or single line.  It blankets my body with chills that energizes the rain to steam.  With such a saturated appearance, there is only glow and gleam. It is in this moment that I realize my place in time.  All that's left for me to do is finally finish this rhyme.

Emerging From a Funk

On the darkest and coldest of nights, the stars shine brightest.  Twinkling their lights upon the Earth as new ones forever come into birth.  They are truly epic sights to see.  I’m glad they’re not just for me.

Have a wonderfilled week everyone. May you be in alignment with your truest nature, never feeling out of sync with your natural flow, and continuously striving for a better, deeper understanding of who you are and why you are here.  Recognize that each moment of the day is unique and filed with potential for complete happiness, relaxation, and understanding.  Do not rush in any way.  Rather, slow down to fully realize all that is.  Enjoy yourself and do what you do as best as you can do it.  You are the hero of your story and it is up to you to change the world into one that you desire.  Fulfill this realization, for it is all you.  It always has been and it always will be.

When you dig a well, there’s no sign of water until you reach it, only rocks and dirt to move out of the way.  When you have removed enough; soon the pure water will flow. –Buddha

Thursday, October 13, 2016

Release from Samsara

Release from Samsara

Our soul inhabits the body like water flowing throughout the earth, allowing for the possibility of life.
Our body is like the earth, from it all experienced realities spring into existence. 
Realities become life.  They display themselves as projections of the mind. 
From the mind, ideas grow like a tree. 
The trunk of tree is the knowledge and foundation of self. 
The foundation of self begets many branches of thought. 
These branches are belief systems.
Belief systems give birth to a multitude of ideas. 
Ideas are like leaves.  They bud, grow, and change with the seasons of life. 
They rarely ever stay the same.  Rather, they typically fall away to make way for newer, more refined ideas. 
These ideas cater to the particular branch or belief system that they spawn from. 
If a branch of a tree falls away from the trunk, it will drastically change the tree.
Rarely do belief systems fall away from the foundation of self, for the belief systems are part of what make up our knowledge of self. 
Sometimes the trunk will give birth to a new belief system, but rarely will it allow an old belief system to die and fall away. 
However, there are other beings that have the ability to cut off certain belief systems.  This will likely be painful and radically changing for the tree.  These beings are teachers or gurus.
The guru’s job is to cut off all the branches so that no belief systems are left.
Once this is complete, the trunk will likely die.
When the trunk dies, so do all ideas and thoughts that it beget.
The mind has no outlet, so it recoils upon itself and reflects upon the body. 
When it starts to observe the body, it realizes that the body is made up of water. 
The water, then, is what is left when all else fades away.
The water is the soul.
From the soul the body is given life.
From the body, the mind is born.
From the mind, the self grows like the trunk of a tree.
From the trunk, belief systems grow like the branches of a tree.
From the branches, ideas are born like the leaves of a tree.
Leaves are the ideas of each unique belief system.
The leaves grow, change, and fall away with each passing season of life.
As old leaves fall away, newer, more refined leaves take their place.
These newer leaves will also fall away.
A guru is someone who cuts off the branches of the tree, eliminating the belief systems one by one.
As the belief systems fall, so do the ideas about the belief systems.
Without the branches, the tree cannot survive.
Without the branches, the foundation of self withers and fades away.
It eventually crumbles into and is absorbed by the earth.
Without the foundation of self, the mind is forced to reflect upon the body.
When the mind reflects upon the body, it realizes that the body is made up of water.
The water is the soul.
This is our truest self.