Oh, those poor dinosaurs.
Yes, they didn't have what it takes to endure.
Right. The ultimate test of superiority is the ability to survive.
A twinkle and a glint.
And a high-five.
And she nagged on and on
In that harsh belittling tone
Til finally he took out his gun
And sent her on home.
Looking for peace at any cost.
And he attacked her on and on
With that harsh belligerent tone
And she finally took the frying pan
And sent him on.
Real deadpan.
Looking for peace at any cost.
And then feeling guilty
And uncomfortable with the silence.
And feeling lonesome oh so lonesome
For that is all they'd ever known.
They took their own lives--
To make amends for the loss.
Looking for Peace at any cost.
And Peace at any cost
Is what the Fools say
As they lay themselves down
And forever stay that way.
And some of us laugh and smirk and even weep
At those who turn the other cheek
For they don't know how the world beats.
And it's no matter anyway--
Just excess soul escaping.
Looking for Peace at any cost.
And Peace at any cost
Is what the wise men say
And that's their battlecry
That allows nothing to get in their way.
Not buildings or bodies or ideas anyway.
And let us get behind such bravery
And those willing to kill and die
For the world is always ready
For a piece of this martyr pie.
And it's no matter anyway--
Just excess souls escaping.
And it's not us being lost--
Just a righteous search for Peace at any cost.
And on and on they march
Bombing, destroying, killing.
Turning the world into
A funeral pyre
Of bodies and buildings.
Stacked to the sky.
And now everyone dead.
Everyone gone.
A natural conclusion.
To this search for Peace at any cost.
And we lost shades gather round
To gaze at the two new arrivals
Who've just come down
And we open our cartoon mouths
But there comes no sound
Only interminable echoes
That grow and grow
And we may never know....
But the cockroaches do.
As they twinkle and glint.
And discuss anthropology.
And give each other high-fives
Cause they're the last to survive.
And at least they've got it.
Peace at any cost.
Has anyone ever seen
Or touched such well-formed clay?
And what is Self-Actualization anyway?
Have you ever held it in your hands?
Or is just the hot breath
Of a deluded madman?
And that which causes you to bruise your nose
on well-formed walls--
Thinking you're some damn seagull.
Like the lure of Romance
On a dangling limb.
We hang in the balance.
Oh, look there's Maslow himself
Hanging from the highest branch
Waiting for the rest of us monkeys to get in on the act:
And it's Monkey high,
and Monkey low
And 'round and 'round we go.
Jumping from limb to limb
And chasing our shadows.
And Freedom stands on one side
And Security the other
And take too much of either
and you're on the rocks, my brother.
And we know love could lead us through
For we've held it in our hands
And watched it slide too
Like grains of sand
And though it's perfect
We are not
So it hides
Under rocks
And broken vines.
And it's Monkey high
And Monkey low
and 'round and 'round we go.
Falling from limb to limb
and chasing our shadows.
And Plato's got half an egg all over his face
And we're still not at home in this place
And his is still the best pick-up line:
And if you listen closely
You can hear from each vine:
'You complete me.'
And I came as a frog to a blind date once
And she as the fairest princess intent on lust.
And who knows what that kiss
Would've done to each of us.
And ok you're a victim
In the wrong place
At the wrong time
And you become an accomplice
When you do that kind of time.
And it gets harder and harder
To keep starting over
Again and again
And yet arent these little deaths
Just a rehearsal for the end?
But I could be wrong--
Maybe it's just a scream.
And a whisper.
And that really is all.
And it's Monkey High
and Monkey Low,
And 'round and 'round we go,
Falling from limbs,
And chasing our shadows.
My good buddy of 20 years,George P. Highwater, has posted a wonderful idea of what education should be.
Unfortunately, I'm reminded of my brief stint as a Humanities teacher.
That's me there, pouring my heart out at the podium, trying to make the poor unsuspecting, somnabulent students see/feel what Van Gogh was experiencing. Of course, I have no idea what Van Gogh was actually experiencing, but I do know what it made me see--and that's what art is all about, the connecting us to the essence of who we are. And in Van Gogh's case to the essence of life itself--and not the explanation of, but the essence itself. And that which is burning there inside the bush.
But Dr. Sweatman...
Just call me Ray.
We learned in psychology 101 that Van Gogh was a psychotic.
A psychotic???? A psychotic? I'll show you psychosis!
And I run around the room, screaming like a wild Banshee and banging on desks until I wind up back at the podium and crumple to my knees and lower my head.
Silence. All eyes alert now.
And we listen to the silence for a bit.
And I look up: And say softly: I suppose you learned in Science that if you give something a name then that's it, it's finished. No fear, no joy...just a Caution Label saying do not mix with other medicines, and flush out with water immediately if ever swallowed. And call a doctor immediately. And everything will be ok.
More silence.
And can you imagine what it would be like to look up into the night sky and feel a force a million times stronger than the brightest star light--AND not to be able to turn that off????
Silence.
Well, can you?
No, Dr. Sweatman. That would be psychotic.
And I shake my head in a wiggle of cheeks and give up.
And the rest of the class: Can you please just tell us what we need to know for the test?
And what is this Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man? Do we really have to read that?
It makes no sense. And it has a liberal slant.
And later, I go over Waiting for Godot line by line. And most of them just can't go there. It's just too much of a test of their own faith. It's too real. It takes too much thought. Too much searching, just trying to figure out the author's perspective. And, of course, it doesn't advance their careers at all.
And you really do have to watch what you say these days.
There right before the final exam, a young lady suddenly announces: I can't do this essay. I'm a dyslexic.
And I remark: Well, I'll just turn you desk around, and it'll be ok.
The class roars with laughter. A note soon finds its way to my file.
And my days as a Humanities instructor are numbered--as is the study of Humanities itself.
No, I'm afraid Education has indeed been absorbed by Greater society--just another hairy arm of the profit-at-all cost Monster.
I know i'll never be able to describe this
transcendent shimmering glow
at the heart of Jerry's solo.
so I'll content myself with floating atop it
and losing my acrophobia and acrimonia
Inside this rainbow.
And so what if the Devil is beatin' his wife?
It's just a little rain
On an otherwise sunny day.
And what does he know anyway?
And buzz off Icarus
yours is another sphere--
And, darling, your wings look lovely
Won't you lose that fear
and take a chance on me
Way up here.
'The thing about a classic is that every time you come back to it, you see something else in it.' Grandma said to the little girl by her side.
'And what do you get out of it today?'
'Oh sweetie...I see the beauty of a love so strong that the world cannot contain it.'
The little girl smiles.
And after the reading.
'What do you get out of it today, Mammaw.'
'Oh I see that the intensity of passion never lasts.'
And again after the reading.
The little girl inside her smiles.
'And what do you get out of it today?"
'Oh, I see that Love is so powerful and yet so fragile--that one must always find it deep in one's self."
And again much later, as the Grandmother is dying...and the woman is reading to her.
'Oh, mammaw...what do you see today?'
And she replies softly, through hard-earned breaths.
'Water, my child....the sound of water flowing back home.'
And the woman closes Romeo and Juliet. And holds her Grandmother's hand--and watches her fade off to sleep. And as she listens to the rain pitter patter on the window pane, the tears start to flow. And she smiles,
knowing full well that this is but a separation...and that she will always be able to find her.
