Welcome from
Piph!
Party
Line
12/19/00 11:44 AM
100
percent of registered voters
in the good old USA
were called to duty, to make a choice,
upon election day
the people chose, their voice was heard
and this is what they saaaiid...
49% of us don't give a hoot if your candidate drops dead!
so one side says "we won the vote"
50% gets us the bone
whats wrong with them? can't they do math? 49% stayed
home
25 percent is the best they did
and same with their ol' buddy
the majority spoke, our candidate won!
and his name is "Nobody."
so when they're all done squabbling
and all the courts are silent
the truth be told whoever wins
had better not be defiant
the majority's sick of political whores
we can't tell the difference between Gush and Bore...
49% of us say what's the point, the corporations are
gonna keep the floor!
Always and
Never is Now
12/20/00
09:36 PM
hi all, nice space here at m-web... having spent some
time reading many posts here (kinda to get a little
acclimated), you all have inspired this one... thanks for
your muse
always and never is now
certainly i must be
somewhere
amid the impressions...
this food of life;
these good,
and ill, familiar
and unmet
can't shake this sense of
so many things
that only ever touched me
by proxy...
never really counted
'cept to have
passed
through
left a wake
leaving things
unintended
willy nilly i am filled with
what to think
what to say
how to be
NO! i say
STOP
NO! i say
QUIET
NO! i say okay, smarmy ghost
on my face
coated my insides
i grant you being
and yes,
it was me
and yes,
it is also me now
i take it all back
i trade it for life
and with my okay
i sign
your ghost warrant
your diminishing empire
i will never be you
i can never be you
for i am
older than the hills
connected to the stars
presence in the present
no thing
under the sun
decides
my posture,
crowns
and kills me
the distasteful becomes fodder.
the despised...
a feast for the soul
i eat myself to hold i


Mystique
12/27/00
09:12 PM
in a
crowded room
some information
penetrates
the din
.


song
(I wish
you could hear the sweet and sorrowful music that
accompanies this song)
I wrote this song for a man who is one of the greatest
and talented and most underappreciated artists i have
ever met
The man can't see his beauty
Been told too many times you know
You just don't tow the line
You can't be good enough
And the man he makes it all alright
In the deep dark chambers of his heart
it breaks beneath the pressure of
his lonliness
Can't you see
the pain behind those eyes?
Don't pretend, you know the
truth's a better story
than any lie
He cries to break the silence
of this empty place
I never could have loved you from inside
this cage of memory
In your eyes I burn
You make me try and
I have been away for so long now
Don't wake me up
I've seen too much
The chasm can't be crossed
So easily today
I don't need the pain now
contentment here inside my tears
I've finally found that place
where I can hide from you
Not happy but suspended, oh oh oh
I'm dead inside my dream
I thought I wanted contact, No oh oh
I just want you to leave
Me in my sleep
.


what
this
01/08/01 08:02 PM
what
then
this model
this layout
this plug and play river
of artifacts
found and lost
fancy and plain
oh, sparkling jewel
and darkest
night
what say you
body
this habit
this uniform
built
with
and without me
crowning glory
and at once
elaborate trap
what then this I
this witness
this eye
that marks
infinities
and countless
passes
innumerable chances
to get it right
to do
to be
what this i ask
i say to you
what this


conduit
01/08/01
07:57 PM Conduit
Hair raised… some 'one' is watching
Moving to acquiesce, yielding the presence
Grandfather squirrel's eyes meet mine.
Fixed, not staring, but serving
The eye of Creator turned upon itself,finds the squirrel
ready.
Fibre optic conduit He employs the cleanest channel.
In perfect balance, service, grandfather questions not
the post
Nor obstructs His view with even one byte of self.
this is an older work, but i post it here for fun. i
just love this poem. best to all, piph


the
weight of my dreams
01/09/01
07:02 PM
the
weight of my dreams
has tipped the scale of my present
to the past.
and yes, they are all true.
and yes, sorely well substantiated.
and they happened,
did happen.
happened to me.
and this big thing from my past
well you just know
nothing compares to it,
supercedes it,
nothing comes close.
and it was real.
did happen.
happened to me.
so how does the real
become dream?
and how does the past
outweigh present?
it happened.
it really did happen
happened to me.


go
on!
01/15/01 07:48 PM
weren't we just cozy peas
all grown up imagining
... food comes from the cupboard
days belong to the heart
life is mine
i can fly.
we dream of bliss
'cause we came from bliss
see why we got to forgive?
by the time we get to raising you
we already fell
already forgot
are you gonna remember?
forgive yourself
for believing me and
go on!
eat the food of the Gods
and
raise
the lot!


In reply to "Labels maketh the "man"
Oh
to be seen.
Fuzzy boundaries.
Taking a stand.
There is a place
Where your karma stops
And mine begins.
I'll meet you right there.


Re: Small Moments
01/27/01
07:28 PM
Hiya
Di...
your poem of light gave me this
little poem of dark
"Oh, how i wish
my moments of heartstrung glory
become my posture as
i walk thru the day
but alas, my multiplicities of I
are always pulling for first chair!"


Re:
For Sweetness
01/27/01 07:20 PM
and
what, but my lover's adoration
could hold me so dear
bring me to myself
focus my sadness true
and move mountains if so be it
that my soul could fly by night
and sing by day


sierra-desert-song-of-piph-and-sierra-desert-song
01/20/01
00:28 AM
i felt with the dragon
my-own burning innerds
laid and splayed
tired confused
how could i miss it
so long?
yet there
right in front of mine-own eyes
pretending to be
instead i loved the dream
you're as smart, so why do you pretend?
and stretching myself to fit the wound
i howled at the past
like it deserved my attention
like it was right
and might
and today
right now
and just now when i say so
and little at a time
just moment by slippery moment
i reclaim my presence to mine-self
this present
and our possibility for being


Untitled
02/08/01
07:42 PM
what
the eye misses
the inner eye measures
the flesh wobbles
and sugar looks sweet till we overdose
the souls depths outweigh
a passing vengence
and only when we react
from fear
or slide
from jealousy
or slip the cover o're the inner eye
to sleep
or rest
or just give in
do we fall into our own
darkened dreams
mistaking them for something
outside ourselves
outside our grasp
beyond our mazened polarities


the
best part of me
The best part of me has hit a wall.
If there was ever anything to this Work for me
it has become lost
or inaccessible
or just plain burned out.
What began as a journey
has become a drowning in still water.
What began as movement
has become concretisation.
What began as leverage
and the joyous giving up of attachment
has become more attachment.
This ship has left the shore
and I am not on it.
Today I am beaten.
Someone said "We are square dancing,
come and we show you the steps."
Today they have danced on to a new dance,
with different steps,
and it is as if the old dance is a strange and foreign
language.
Even taboo.
The best part of me is now a ghost
and my present self it's slave.
I take the opportunity to announce defeat.
I take the moment to say
the best part of me
the one that was willing to journey without expectation
is lost.
Dead and gone.
Just gone.


Re: just cozz
02/22/01 00:27 AM
myth-smyth
cored and
drilled
mined for diamonds
made by time and pressure
and one avari-glint out of the corner of the eye
draws me in
pulls me close
selling a measured peek
at free unbound manifestation
hey, what do i know... it's just what the poem evoked!
best to you as always, piph


Why
I am an Indian
04/04/01
silver screen fantasy
city of dreams
and clogged arteries.
if only you could
see yourself.
be killed like me
by that satellite view.
the petri dish
its culture budding.
this smear on the earth.
you have gone too far.
and can only
go further.
give me stars at night and air to breathe.
you have stollen my life.
my people.
my heritage.
america the booty full.
the crime.
pollution.
the only thing left
is what's left
of the indians
you killed.
dull.
dead.
consumers and servants.
only then
and not a day before
the new god science
gets this life extension thing
worked out for the rich...
and only when
they must endure the culture
the horrible paradigm
and serve it for
three
or five
hundred years...
only then will man
be moved to be human.
and do the right fu*king thing.
how long have we been sleeping?


unconscious
love turns to hate
05/01/01
How lonely the soul
that again embarks
the sorry journey...
a search for one who feels and thinks and loves
with open heart and mind.
The ego destroyed
a thousand deaths
to the one who opens
her heart to the unworthy.
I gave my all to a man
who just cannot believe that
love conquers all.
He thinks time does.
All for nothing
but not for him
'cause he still has time
until it runs out... and it will.
just wanted to say this is a very old poem...
no need to feel i am in a bad way. but this poem
was written maybe in 1987 or 86 i forget.
anyway, there is a lot of poetry about love, and love
gone wrong, and the pain of love, and betrayal of love,
and hopes and dreams of love, and unrequited love and
love, love, love...
but i think this poem has some fundamental truth about it.
not cos i wrote it, but because we project so much on the
lover unconsciously, well how can we honestly expect that
tower not to fall ?
so i put this here, and maybe i post one more short one
about how we love unconsciously. how we love the lost
mirror of ourself and then when it falls we hurt and
blame and well, sometimes just kill all the life out of
the dream to be in a place to toss it away with some
amount of dignity.
but this is false dignity. that person was always and
will always be the love of that life. we need to grow as
humans to understand love in oursleves, and learn to love
consciously, and save our beloved brothers and sisters
from our own unconscious love... the love that is about
need.
sorry for the rant. piph out.


In
reply to "Wattever" by Wyldestorms
05/01/01
i fell
in love with a grain of sand
and held in adoration
in loving observation
i am taken by the shadow of a flower
it supported
and falling in love
the flower divine
forgot the sand
and with eyes held sway
caught the shadow of myself
holding the flower
entranced in self forgetting
the flower eyes turned up
found instead the star all dazzling
and wished to fly beyond
to where our sun
neither heats nor lights

Beautiful
Day (re DiCat)
05/30/01
10:17
never met a shadow
that didn't look
like some false conclusion
i had drawn

Trying
for a Question
06/17/01
yes, my royal presence
we have been kidding her mightily
the absolute assimilated
nothing short of annihilation
and to stop
is worse than to go
but god forbid the schism
and tell the ego when the hand
of fate choking the life out of it
extinguishes the beloved
false personality
you can f*ck up a business deal
a bride and groom
but to fail a life work
what to do?
make fire from ashes
air from the void
working backwards for scraps
how foolish? and i wonder
how to pay...
how to pay for this one


Back Home Next
Design and
Graphics Copyright © 2000, Moyra/MysticPC.
All Rights Reserved. Words and Poetry Copyrighted by Piph.
|