Tuesday, November 29, 2016

Why did the Chicken Cross the Road?

Why did the chicken cross the road?
Perhaps to reach his humble abode. 
But it was snowy and icy on that fateful day
and the middle of the street was no place to play.
During the crossing,
a driver was flossing,
unaware of the chicken ahead.
He slammed on his breaks,
but under the flakes,
lay the chicken, silent and dead.
Now we know to drive real slow
when the roads are filled with fluffy white snow.

Monday, November 28, 2016

Your Move

He wrote a poem cloaked in syntax. The facts lack, but the truth is clear.
I do not fear the repercussions of this tale.
If I fail to boil a better brew of ideology, will you follow me?
Breaking the law and reaping its harvest, the continuous flow continues
on into the next line...
Will you find that this is prose?
Who knows what is what.
Is a dream fact or fiction?
My addiction makes me wonder. So i plunder your mind.
One more time, will you fail to realize?
The surprise is supreme. It means a bit more of what you think.
So think. 
It's your move.

Saturday, November 26, 2016

Life of a Toilet

A life of a toilet--
pissed all over
covered in slime.

I know that mine
hasn't been cleaned
in over a year.

It's clear
that living
things
are growing on its surface.

So, is it alive?

Dive into
its fountain of youth.

Turn your head against the torpedoes.
Where nobody goes--
the darkest melodies.

In the end,
the porcelain throne
is a target of obsession--


gives option
of eternal thanks
for abled
bowel
movements.

Care to weigh
your seat
against it?

It wouldn't be
the first time.

Friday, November 25, 2016

haiku (Sitting on the Pot)

sitting on the pot
hunched and pushing for dear life
I groan and give birth

Thursday, November 24, 2016

Thanks Giving


Slowly, he raised his cup to his forehead, blessing its contents and thanking God for its sustenance and nutrition.  Opening his eyes revealed a deeper understanding of the meaning of this meal.  There was more than just food sitting on this table made of alabaster wood.  It was a gift from the universe that was meant to propel us into higher vibrational frequencies and understandings of our time together.  

We recognized that every movement we made was a movement in and throughout a sacred space.  Every word was a noted choice rather than a necessity. With each syllable, we made the decision to express only the deepest levels of our soul.  Moving slowly, we took each other’s hands and bowed our heads in prayer.  Relating our thanks and cherishing this and every experience that arose within our fields of consciousness, the fogs of our minds cleared and we again began to realize our connectedness to the all.  

For a brief moment, the lights in the room dimmed and our spirits shone forth a bright array of translucent colors and patterns.  Honeycomb pillars of fire and webs of life hung in the corners of our field of vision.  After we finished expressing our tokens of appreciation for this and every moment to come, we ended with the hum of Om, the ancient primordial reverberation of our and everyone’s ancestral origins.

Echoed back to us were chimes and pulsations that brought the light back to its original luminescence.  We looked and smiled at each other because we knew how interconnected we really were.  This was not the first time we had shared this feeling.  Each time, however, was like a special gift.  When this gift was opened, the present was presence and it allowed us to linger in a state beyond the realm of time.  The essence of these meanderings and internalized emotion made us cachinnate deep belly laughs that cleared our lungs and enlightened our chests.  Our bodies became energized with tiny electrical sensations.  The totality of it all would have brought us to tears if we hadn’t experienced it before.

With a great sigh, we gently lifted our utensils and began consuming the organic feast that lay before us.  Each bite was an exquisite gustatory sensation that exceeded the last.  With eyes partially shut, we experienced the juicy passion of the meal at hand.  Each of us felt extremely grateful for this opportunity to share the warmth and nutrition of this meal.  Sidelong glances with smiling eyes indicated that we all felt the same way.  Smirks of understanding and happiness kindled the vibration an even higher level.  

The meal itself took many hours to complete.  From the moment we began making it to when the last morsel of food was absorbed into our systems, it spanned nearly the entire day.  We were never in a hurry to start or finish such projects.  The act and interaction in these times was the core of the festivities.  We found out long ago how to take our sweet time and appreciate every moment as it came and went.  We often took all forms of hiatus to dance, sing, stretch, or laugh.  The silliness was part of the purpose for these times.  Like children, we molded our creation in whichever ways we desired.  Whether it was lava cake or spaghetti sewers, the pure essence of it all held a holy spirit of communion that was typically experienced only in dreams.  

When our session was complete, we again bowed and paid our respects to all the plants, animals, hard work, and energy that went into creating this meal.  After the prayer, we sat in stillness for quite some time.  Nothing need be said, for it was in the stillness that every part of the day culminated in absolute beauty and tranquility.  Lifting our heads, our eyes rested on the soft show of polychromatic flora.  Before us lay a bouquet of five flowers that sat in an ornate vase upon the table.  Each fragrant blossom was a symbol of our friendship, growing in sweet individual essence and becoming even more wonderful when organized together. We each took one and promised to add it to our personal collection of pressed relics from similar times passed.  Hugs and a few tears formed as we embraced in an effort to remember this time until the next. 

Quietly and carefully I descended the steps from this magical place of worship.  We never knew when the next time might be that we could get together in this way, but we knew that it would arrive whenever the time was right.  On my way home that evening, I understood how important it is to make every moment, every movement, and every choice a conscious decision to raise your awareness of every moment, every movement, and every choice.  In life, we need only to slow down and feel the motion of your body and consciousness interact with all of reality in order to experience a fullness of life.  Doing so will amplify our humanity and connectedness to the entire universe.  Again, I cried a hearty and abundant laugh.  Chanting and recanting the sounds of old, I drove off into the depths and dark of the night.

Wednesday, November 23, 2016

Thanksgiving

Turkey basting and
Ham tasting
Amidst family and friends.
November's feast--
Kings and queens would be jealous--
Smorgasbords-a-plenty.
Genuine hospitality
In all walks of life.
Visions of sugarplums draw near.
Imitating the original feast.
Nice and neat, right?
Gather all.

Tuesday, November 22, 2016

What Would You Say?

There once was a man from Kalamazoo
who couldn't quite figure what he should do.
He tried to play banjo, but that was too hard
so he built up a garden, perfecting his yard.

The plants died quickly, the weeds took over too fast.
Even his cactus became a plant of the past.
So he bought a dog and named it Ben.
Living together, they became best friends.

All seemed great, perfect, and right,
but then Ben escaped and ran into the night.
The man put up fliers, but got a ticket for solicitation.
Then went into debt because someone stole his information.

He lost his home, the only thing to his name.
He cursed his luck, but knew he was to blame.
He moved to the streets and begged for spare cash,
for slowly, but surely, he was saving a stash.

He was saving to buy thousands of bees.
With that many bees, he could do as he pleased.
He'd make a fortune, selling their honey,
but, before he got started, some bum stole all his money.

Broke and starving, and clinging to life,
a woman found him and became his pretty, young wife.
He loved her in every possible way,
but soon they divorced. It turned out she was gay.

Back on the streets, caught in the rain,
heart still hurting, stabbing with pain,
he ran to a bridge that crossed a cold river,
climbed over the railing and started to shiver.
A wicked wind whipped a threatening blow,
swaying so slightly, he need only let go.
He wondered why he should try to hold on
when everything he loved was taken or gone.
If only he had a friend to confide
all of the pain he was holding inside.
If you met this man on this terrible day,
what would you do, what would you say?

Wednesday, November 16, 2016

Clarity in the Abstract

The abstract is difficult to manifest and express into reality because of its undefined nature.  The brain has a hard time grasping at meaning when there is no clear definition or defined boundary of the idea.  Once something has been labeled, it is much easier to think about.  However, the depth we take this labeled idea to is incomparable to the depths that one must go to bring forth the abstract.  Don't let it slip from your mind, for the clarity is already fading.

Monday, November 14, 2016

Simplicity is Finest

A perfunctory tune may ruin our vibe, but a tribe set against singing too loudly might have intended for this absence of energy all along.  What we deem as wrong might be right for another.  Our brothers across the globe move with the sound of nature surrounding their peripheral being.  While we cling to format and regimented creations, their elations come from a natural setting. 

I’m betting that the bird chirps as it ought to, for it has got to give all that it has in order to continue its upward flight.  In spite of the reckless nomenclature we base our society around, the ground still stands sturdy, even though the birdy has evolved beyond this realm.  Let us use film to track our journey as we expand our minds in a time of great change.  In the end, our range will be great.  Hopefully we can relate to the simple sounds of our primal relatives once again.

Monday, November 7, 2016

Year 1

A satirical interpretation of the 2016 election madness:

The year is 1.  We've been deceived by our president and overpowered by the Russian President, Vladimir Putin.  He swooped in like a horseman of the apocalypse, bringing in war and disparity.  America, once a nation full of promise, has been knocked to its knees.  The spirit of liberty and happiness is extinct.  Welcome to the revelation of mankind, the divine disclosure of existence coming to an end. 

It all began in the Gregorian calendar year of 2017.  New president, Bernie Sanders, was elected as commander and chief of the United States.  His campaign ran on a foundation of promise provided for and by the people.  The election campaigns were a tight race.  Hillary Clinton was the forerunner, followed closely by socialist Sanders, and business tycoon Donald Trump. 

Everyone thought that Hillary would become the first female president.  However, just before the elections, she was arrested by the FBI for conspiracy to supplant key positions in the parliament.  They dragged her to prison kicking and screaming.  It wasn't a pretty sight.

With Hillary out of the picture, the burden fell on Bernie Sanders' shoulders to clench a quick victory before the madman Donald Trump took power.  Everyone feared for the reputation of the United States if Trump became president.  Without hesitation, the majority of Americans voted for Sanders and laughed as Trump tried to talk his way out of defeat.

During the first year of President Sanders' reign, everything seemed to be going very well.  He implemented a universal health care system that provided free medical relief for any legal citizen of the United States.  He raised minimum wages so that everyone was making an equitable income, and even managed to tax the super wealthy and distribute the funds throughout the nation's educational systems.  Those who remembered, equated the state of prosperity and happiness to that of the 1950s.  People rejoiced as Sanders seemingly met all American's needs.

Beginning his second year as president, Sanders promoted a peace treaty with many different countries around the world.  He promised a world full of wealth and abundance, much like what was happening in the U.S.  One country he was particularly fond of bonding with was Russia and its president, Vladimir Putin.  Sanders promised that this relationship would pave a new path for humanity.  Little did we know the extent of his promise.

The U.S. and Russian military joined together and began taking away the rights of citizens.  The economy collapsed and was rebuilt into a digital chip system.  If anyone wanted to buy or sell, they had to be implanted with a microchip.  The chip also provided access to universal health care, personal information, internet access and much more.  Although this devilish device was optional at first, eventually it became nearly impossible to survive without it. 

Small contingents of U.S. rebels fought against the quickly growing oppressive regime.  They were soon defeated, dispersed, or disbanded by overwhelming military and financial power.  Those who remained fled into the mountains. 

Near the end of the summer, black helicopters blotted out the sky.  The choppers fired down rubber ammunition on all the vehicles and pedestrians in the streets, subduing all citizens much too easily.  Black clad military personnel swarmed the area and ushered unmarked citizens into giant holding facilities reminiscent of football stadiums. We later realized the facilities were abandoned Walmarts.

I was one of the many who were still unmarked by the new currency exchange system, commonly called the chip.  In the stadiums, men were separated from women and children, and forced to run laps until they couldn't run any longer.  Drained and terrified, many men reluctantly agreed to receive the chip. 

There was a man wearing big, round spectacles on a stage that had a gun resembling a sort of syringe.  He put it to the men's forearm and, with the decompressing sound of a nail gun, shot the chip deep into the arm's muscle tissue.  The sound was sickening and the men screamed in pain.

I refused to be marked by such beasts.  Those of us who refused to receive the chip were tied, gagged, and hooded.  As several of the military men escorted us out of the room, I heard a military general reeducating the crowd.  "The year is 1," he commanded.  "You are now part of a global alliance of national powers invested in the betterment of humanity.  Those who refuse to participate will be imprisoned.  Those who join will be set free." 

As his voice faded into the past, I wondered how I could escape this terrible nightmare of a dream.  This was something straight out of the scriptures, something no one had ever anticipated.  Revelations may be real, but the rapture is incomplete.  Thrown into a holding cell, I found a rock and began scratching against the wall, marking this message for humanity.

The Delusion of the Illusion of Control


The delusional illusion of control slipping grants the gripping state of anxiety.  Proprietarily speaking, it’s all in your head.  Reality is a reflection said by the sayer of couth intellect.  Inspect more deeply, for external chaos is the perception of internal calamity written across blank pages that we interpret as this or that in relation to our circumstance and state of mind.  Find that it’s always been this way and always will be.  Choose to breath, or don’t.  Freedom is here.  You have the key.  Set yourself free...if you want.

Saturday, November 5, 2016

Compiling Sentences

Challenge! Draw this character and send your drawing to JourneyHolm@gmail.com.  I'll upload the image to this blog post.


The other evening, I stumbled upon the most peculiar sight.

As I walked home from a study group at my friend’s house, I saw, underneath a soft street light, the strangest character I had ever seen. The first thing I noticed was his enormous head, which was the size and shape of Bigfoot’s finest foot. His ears were pointed like an elf’s, and he had Nike eyebrows above big, round eyes, which were the color of aqua-blue pools that seemed to float in the middle of his head. Moving down his face was a long Pinocchio style nose, which protruded outward like the end of a broomstick. Around his mouth was a long white beard that was as white as snow, and at the end of the beard dangled a single, black comb.

As I was wondering whether or not he had forgotten that the comb was even there, I suddenly felt sheer and unexplainable horror. As I looked closer at his mouth, I saw misshapen rows of pumpkin colored teeth set into old, purple, worn-out gums. Was this man even human? His lips were pink and chapped to the point of having several cuts about them because of their arid texture.

He started looking at me and as he did I felt an extreme desire to run away as fast as I could. Before I left, though, I saw how neatly he had parted his hair. To one side, he had combed his hair to look like a beautifully colored rainbow. This alone would have made up for all the grotesque features, I thought, until I saw the other side of his head, which was shaved bald, like a baby’s. He smiled a toothy grin and waved at me, as if to say hello.

At that moment I knew it was time to go. I turned and ran back to my friend’s house as quickly as I could, and never went down that street again.


Where did this come from? This was an assignment for a group of 7th graders practicing writing purposely descriptive sentences about a specific feature on an imaginary character.  I took all of their ideas for separate characteristic features and combined them into one person.

Friday, November 4, 2016

The Wise Worm

Once after a windblown storm
I met myself a slimy worm.
It said to follow him to There--
a place so grand he wouldn't dare

Speak of such a supple sight,
a place so bright and filled with light
that it consumed the passerby
with rapture and a large French fry.

He said that someday I would learn
his ways of boogers, grime, and squirm,
and if I wanted I could see
the way to live completely free.

I followed him across the yard,
down a ditch a onward toward
the road beside my dad's driveway
on the day before our garbage day.

Then he squirmed into a box
and wore some fries like Goldilocks.
Beaming like a bright sunflower,
he asked if I would help devour

The smorgasbord of sodium, potatoes,
and cardboard painted tomatoes
that no living creature could ever turn down.
This, he said, is where abundance is found!

What could I do?
What could I say?
I tried a few
and they were ok.


Copyright 2016. JourneyHolm. All Rights Reserved.

Treasuring Trashy Treasure


Trash
rancid, toxic
littering, polluting, despairing
wasteful debris, hidden gems
finding, admiring, exalting
fortunate, rich
Treasure

Lotus Sutra

Good morning, you beautiful people. For those select few who don't already start your day this way, might I suggest clearing your mind before a stressful or productive day with the Lotus Sutra.

My suggestion is to listen to it in head phones (I dare you), but if you listen to it through speakers turn up the volume to the point where it drowns out everything else. As you listen to it, let the sound wash out all other thought. Embrace the nonsense.

Part of meditation is to perceive without judgement. This is so far from ordinary that the nonsense should produce an unbiased (without interpretation) response in the brain to what is happening. I know it might be a bit different than your normal routine (or what is acceptable in conventional society), but give it a shot. 

 If you listen to it all the way through, it will greatly help you start your day off on the right note (eh, eh, anyone?). If you start to feel vibrations or tingling sensations, focus on filling and spreading them throughout your entire body as you listen. Let go for just a few minutes at the beginning and end of your day. 

I'll let you be the judge as to how it changes your life. Let me know if you listen to it all the way through.