there is, of course, too much
when i left Bangor
i made it to Acadia national park rather quickly
there was some thick traffic
so i decided to pull off at a little rest area
where there were two old men in cars waiting...
i walked through the woods a bit
and i hadn't had sex for about a week
so was feeling horny
one walked up to me
seemed very tired/dopey/bored
not hard at all
i kinda thought the experience was fun because of how odd it seemed
but he wasn't into it and i wasn't into it
(nothing much happened)
and he walked off
i got into the tree
and imagined myself making love to the forest
just enjoying the sexual energy swirling around me
and then into my mind crept a friend i met recently
of whom the sexual energy was quite strong
mainly because we'd not been able to have it...
-- see, i've often found that
the spark of sex can fire a lot
but if you just culminate quickly
the magic of the art of making love
you could make love for YEARS
oh, this can get quite tyring
i don't indulge in it very often anymore
but this man, because of circumstance
(as i'm trying to yank his pants off after we've fallen off the couch)
"i'm in a monogamous relationship" (though his boyfriend was on the
other side of the country...)
i've been dealing with that a lot lately
that is to say
and their Lovers
which i step between
and worry about burning them, or their lovers, or myself
and being gentle with it
i step slowly
i feel already that i've damaged relationships
though at the begining
(and this was a few years ago)
i remember thinking that it was OK
(as a friend once put to me: "jealousy is the feeling when you know you
could be better for that person than who they are spending their time
the relationship wasn't something that i really resptected for it's
(which i didn't understand)
but only for it's form
that is, that it was a relationship of a man whom i did love and
and only felt tender towards his lover because of my love for him
(my how i digress)
i learned that just because a lover of mine loves someone else
does not mean that this second person would be at all good for me
the art of deliberation
i have been building that mechanism
(i'm tired, let me refocus)
i was in the forest
and this new friend of mine pops into my head
and he becomes the energy of the forest...
i'm on the road into the park
and have been wrestling with time...
i had expressed the intention to ride a ferry
to see the coast of Maine
which is quite wrinkly
and best seen from the water
i was told
my first try, in portland, i walked towards it
kept going to little places along the way
got to the boat: missed the last one.
drove two days
with intention to catch it in Rockland
got there very early in the day
so i went looking for books
and book stores
and keep being distracted on my walk to the docks
i walked up as the last ferry was pulling away.
i drove in a rush down to Bass Cove
and got there just in time
(with a little time to spare)
and jumped on the ferry
grabbing a book ( i had recently bought)
and a jacket (just in case the sea breeze was cool)
and some water and nibbles
got on the boat
it was a beautifully clear day
and high tide
i clamboured out on the rocks on Swan's island
and found a place to sit and read
taking off most of my clothes
basking and baking myself in the sun and the hot rocks
finding star fish and seeing barnacles lick the water
and see urchins!
strange black things that flocked on the surface of the water in the
tide pools like fleas...
i got absorbed...
reading "Song of Myself" to myself outloud
being with Walt Whitman again!
inspiring so much in me
i was filled with inspiration by my new friend yet again
who inspired me to get this book (though i have had many copies in my
day of "leaves of grass" i have never read this poem)
so many ideas came into mind:
being an american--
we have escaped the past
we have run from the past and out ran it!
we are free!
free to be wild and dirty
free to be lusty and open and loving
free to enjoy
free to explore
what happened to america?
-- i read a book last week, first night in the van in maine... on the
side of a road, dirt, against the trees, faraway.. but still littered
i read a book called "Faraway Places" by Tom Spanbauer
(he wrote "the man who fell in love with the moon" which dragged me
through life in a whole new way that was very enriching... i read it
two years ago and have been looking for this one, his first, since)
i read it entirely that morning
when i woke
the book is only 130 pages
it's climax crashed me to a shuddering yeping mess
which is impressive:
i've not cried like that in YEARS
no no .
one of the most heartwrenching things in the book
was his way of showing how america wasn't about being free at all
through the eyes of an innocent child
(well, not so innocent... but 12 years old)
run away from the past?
run away from God.
once i was god.
then i was the universe
then i was the earth
then i was man and woman
which beget which beget
i was a million things
and have fragmented to six billion
who am i anymore?
if i run away from my past as being a one omnipotent being
and run into my present
here i am
surrounded by myself
God in everything
God as everything.
living as god as everything
of course of course
but LIVING it.
well, it's a feat ,indeed
i have often thought it
but often my life lives differently.
life is strange
and for some it is about one thing
and others it is about many things
and some just see god clearer
i am someone who didn't really know about god
didn't really know about love or jesus or any of that
when i was a kidd
i was only aware of the earth
i guess i come from a lineage of beings that was animals
i don't know where i come from
i ran away from my past
i'm an american...
but aside from all of that
i'm on this rock on the island
thinking about god
and the ferry pulls in
i think to myself
>>oh, i'll just catch the next one<<
it was another hour of reading and thinking and writing in my journal
when i realized
that was the last ferry...
but another one came in an hour later!
so i ran to it
and got to it
"nope, not going back tonight"
that was the night of the Black Out.
i watched the tide for HOURS
i watched the sky and the water
i could not sleep
it was too cold and damp
i was awakened
i had matches
but everything was wet
i could not light a fire
the tide went out
the tide came in
(trying to sleep, just crunching up into a ball)
feeling no remorse
i really need to learn this lesson about time
i always forget...
i sang to myself
as the sun began to rise
i ran across the island
through the forest
getting very wet
but not too lost
to find the sun
the library is closing
i must be off
perhaps when i write next
i will be more focused
see you then..