New Assigment for October

Assigment due on Oct. 14, (full moon)

Topic:

Describe or illustrate, elaborate or portray the greatest challenge you have ever faced in
your life at this point in your existence.

This can be physical, mental or psychological, spiritual. In any realm of your choosing.
How did you deal with it? or, otherwise?

thanks.
Marc Anderson

Birds of the Season

"Tomorrow, which never comes but already is, I'll be here again, and still. You can meet me - if it's meant to be" -a bird of the Season

How many sentences were still in the night, but which she heard clapping, on leaves and against stones. "Throw! Throw!" the clouds sang to the breeze that went through her sun woven hair. Early fall, and sweet apples hung from starlike branches. Orchards running among lanes of sunset colored rivers and tall feathery trees, the ones that monitor the world quietly when the snow makes them into blue giants under the moon. You could fill your basket and feed your horses with the textures of this place. Her home that she knew, with the birds of the Season.

And she heard music - like the kind that chimes in and out - weathered with joy but held by Sadness. And short small drums of sound mixed up with her footsteps there outside the cabin. Kicking leaves and saying sorry. Acknowledging her belly becoming a womb. The music was Sounds and they were empty to the World, yet still, somehow by magic, always somehow, encompassed her entirely. Timpani, forest rustling, laughter of someone's mother, and the same smiling sun that hung there day after day. She was wild - held onto her own free will like the trees labeled in bark, and picking off scabs like wounds that never cared. The Season hastily awoke in the East and she was the curtain it held open long after the bow.

Two large hogs had been murdered openly and she wanted only one thing - To demolish the presence that it had left behind. It stuck to the surroundings, an Orange Persistence...an unsettled continuous cry in the night. The babe inside was making its way in its own world. The forests it knew - vessels. The skies - her fluid. The air - the blood. Opening into new space she had somehow known to prepare for it, she itched and grew faster with the Time it became, then slowed. There were ringing feverish birds relaying messages between them. Things like, "Hold tight" and "Momma is here". But real birds - blue birds - with gentle beaks, known to sit atop those feathery trees near the orchard, the shed of the neighbor, the room where she slept, denying the hoarse cries of the wetlands and of the restless hogs, would write - scribble down on the page, what she was to hear next. The message of the Season and who she could become, she read: "It's Me"

Reasons

Thoth had spake that all truth was in reality a half-truth.
I can fathom that reason also abides toward the same parameter.
In the relativity of existence, the way of finding absolute measure is not possible.
Einstein's general relativity theory.

If reason is generalized, then it is within the context of a given space within time.
Reason is a taught reflex. The inner core of idealism is reason itself.
It is both linear and frozen in dimensional space.

Thomas Aquinas, in his quest for mapping a perfected universe adopted reason.
This was the death of God itself, for it was but a quest for a mental construct of
the reason for God's behavior in the material realm.

Spiral is a derivative of the word Spirit. There is nothing predominantly lineal within
the natural worlds. Reason is angular and it does conflict with natures process.
Reason has driven vast agendas of the high priests who imbibe this mental
spew and bribe all they can with the grandeur of the proposal.

In closing, reason is rife with conflict. It is separated from love by an almost
impassible gulf. It is wholly left brained in nature and has been a contributor
toward holding open the seeping wound of duality.

Reason itself is helpful in managing the priority of living outside of its context and
influence. Reason. to me, is a mechanical programming apparatus.

I am in reality, myself, of no mean importance. There is no reason behind, or before me.
The moment I establish reason in my cyclic existence, I enter a conflicting hell.
Dreams are ignored because they are counter to reason.
The psyche is counter to this construct.

I have seen reason in my life experience, but only as if viewing from the rear of a
caboose as the country side recedes away. It creates more anticipation because
reason or rationale can have no lasting effect.

I take a harsh view of reason.
There is not anything infinite about it.
A few mathematicians have driven themselves insane by attempting to
apply reason toward the apprehension of infinity equations.

In all of creation, God, being outside of time or space, is also beyond reason.
The joy of existence and love knows no reason.
The politic of reason is dead.
Light is freedom.

Marc

Homecoming

After the shout-fullness
The night walk of drizzle-damp
A step of amble-anger
A step of re-verse rage
A step of slip-on shamewear
A step of knowing-broken
A step of push-around
A step of replay let-down

A breakthrough guided-grounding step
Into consolation star-sky rhythm beat
Forward faith-fashion fixity
Stride to center circle-clarity
Pace of peace practice-ability
Surrender miles of humble-honor
Bound up to moon-morn welcome mat
Home

unfamiliar face

where did it all go wrong?
hushed like early sunday morning.
what do you have to say?
what do you have to change?

i can’t breathe.
i can’t sing.
the birds look down and laugh at me.
i can’t evade this twinge.

when will it fade to memory?
when will you become an unfamiliar face?
should i try to forget your name?
will these thoughts and words last for all time?

what do i tell them?
what will they say?
my world collapsed on that cold autumn morning.
home is a long way away.

in the end i’ll leave it all behind.
none of this is going my way.
will i find the life i need find?
it's possibly all in my mind.

i’ll say i’m being tested.
i won’t be dealt more than i can handle.
everything happens for a reason.
it’s all part of a bigger plan.

i won’t blink.
dusk will turn into day.
i will not lose myself in sorrow.
i will not lose myself in memory.

tomorrow is another day.
i’ll try to forget.
but i have to believe.
everything happens for a reason.

Life in Six

Always blooming wildflowers in my path!

consciousness awakened; laughing, skipping, running free!

Explorer of unknown awareness, craving enlightenment.

Life in Time

Anxious iconoclast clock winder, both ways.

Six-Word x Four

Childhood
Hallway's end crybaby waits. Nobody comes.

On Writing
Where do I put the comma?

Present Day
Never without book. Seldom without smile.

BeLife
I believe "Life is Worth Laughing".

Six Word Life Story

Went there.  Found God.  Happy now.

Everything Happens For A Reason

NEW ASSIGNMENT

The topic for this month is to write a story, essay, poem, etc., or an argument for or against the idea that "everything happens for a reason."

Also, Aunt Sue has a "subtopic" she would like to add on to this months assignment. Our first two-for-one month. Here's the website she was inspired from: http://www.smithmag.net/sixwords/ It's basically a 6 word memoir, tell your story in 6 words.

Have fun!

Assignment due by September 28.

dP