5/17/2023

stand tall in the face of the blatant lies

Straw, by Susan Hable



Blessed, blessed, blessed.

Now to bury the dead while the soil is weak and the grief is strong, to shovel them under and to say the words of god and heaven and life everlasting, world without end, amen.

Now to dream and hope and plan and pray and work and build and do and be. 

Now to breathe the cool air of quiet midnight under the bone moon, the sound of darkness, the pull of emptiness, the power of being alive and alone, the power of still feeling the strength of the machine inside of the body. 

Blessed, blessed, blessed.

Now to love; someone, anyone, everyone, to embrace another soul, another body, to speak and to listen, to hold and be held, to share it all, every last thing, the day, the night, the slow years and the fast ones, to grow, to become more fully yourself while accepting the difference of each other. 

Now to speak the brazen truth, to stand tall in the face of the blatant lies and the cruel hatred, to say no as fiercely and severely as your bravest yes, to cast down the liars and the fast-talkers, the deniers, to refuse to back down to that which is false or evil. 

Now to wade out into the river, to let the current take you, to just relax and go limp, to go under to another world, a water world, life, death, suffering, release, bliss, to float and be free, the darkness first and then the light. 

Blessed, blessed, blessed.

Now to climb out on the muddy bank and hold your arms up to the sky and give thanks, to praise, to be fully present in this body and on this earth, all while still wet and dripping. 

  Now to close your eyes and let your soul rise up from your body, up through the sky, up through the clouds, out into space and through the milky way, to let your soul move on other dimensions where you are the light and the light is you, free, true. 

Blessed, blessed, blessed.

james lee jobe






The most ideal landscape is the one that is.

Lynn Crawford


moga almeri - choreographer, Doing It To Death


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I have a small non-speaking role in this film. I am walking across a busy plaza, past stalls where people sell things; fruit, vegetables, scarves, crafts. like that. Everyone is speaking spanish. In the distance there is festive music. As I walk, I am carrying your heart in a lovely blue bowl. Your heart is bloody, and as the camera zooms in, one can see that it is still beating. With each beat, there is a small squirt of blood. The bowl is large, and about half full of this blood. The sound of the beating gets louder as the camera gets closer, until finally it sounds like a kettle drum, and drowns out the noise of the plaza. The camera rises up to a close-up of my face. I am smiling, and at no point in this film do you ever find out why. Just past my face, there are birds taking flight. 

james lee jobe 






Each of us may be nothing more than a moving wave of change, but we are waves able to know this fact. We rise and fall in an infinitely deep and timeless sea, upright and undisturbed. We share the vast dignity of awakening.

Sallie Jiko Tisdale



It was titled, THE BOOK OF JOBE. 
I turned the page and read. It said that I died 
Deep down, in the center of the world, in rock 
And lava. I closed the book and returned it 
To the crowded shelf. "How strange this life is," 
I thought, as I sat and waited for the earthquake 
That would swallow me down. "Still, 
I just don't believe in fate," I said loudly 
To all of the books staring down at me. 

james lee jobe



Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished.

Zen proverb



John Lee Hooker, Bad Like Jesse James 


May my neighbors turn to me in times of need, and may I turn to them in times of plenty; that I might always remember to give, to share, and not just what I have, but also share what I am.

james lee jobe 



Thanks for reading today's post here at the poetry zendo. You might consider supporting this blog with a small donation through the Buy Me A Coffee link just below. My mobility issues no longer allow me to work. Many thanks, jlj 

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