(Wash your own dish)
Wash your own dish.
Your karma is your own.
Signs aren´t important.
DISH CONSCIOUSNESS IS PART OF TOTAL CONSCIOUSNESS.
To become aware of others is to become aware of yourself.
DISH CONSCIOUSNESS IS A PART OF TOTAL CONSCIOUSNESS.
DON´T LET ANYTHING OR ANYONE
OR THIEVES IN THE NIGHT
LEAD YOU ASTRAY
LEAD YOU ASTRAY.
IT´S WINTER NOW,——
As for conversations with dogs,
A handful of dry dog food each morning
-if you can beat the chickens to it.
Close the door.
People waiting and eating;
The winter sun, clear through everything.
No dishes washed this morning
Because the water froze.
Chinamas´s Chance –placer.
Twenty-five sacred yarrow sticks each way.
An icicle falls from the rain spout.
An orange rabbit
Waters a purple flower
With a blue pail.
Two small birds sitting on a bush,
White stripes on their heads,
Looking for a meal among the pale green buds.
Winter has no clothes.
As if no one were here.
Sunlight coming through
The translucent plastic windows.
Wood sounds. Water sounds.
Three boys rough-housing in the corner.
At the dinner table:
“I´ve been here three or four months now.
People come and go-
But it takes time to get used to a new school….”
One moment please.
Cut wood Load the truck
Brush Bill drinking beer:
“Me an´ my gal
I fell down,
An´ she kept-a-pickin´.”
A dead madrone; one pine snag.
New Years Day – Warm as spring
The frost is beautiful on the winter ground.
Red tag, needles and leaves.
Snow and mud frozen hard as rock.
Footprints of a dog; footprints of a man.
A truck gone through an hour ago,
Crushing patterns on the larger puddles.
Surface Frozen Solid
Now I walk. A blue sun.
What is cold
And what is cold.
Tobey said a piss pot froze.
An icy sponge in the sink.
Walked as far as the Johnson Claim this morning.
Stacha killed two white leghorns.
Ice casings on all the twigs along the creek.
Good morning; Good morning
One day past, three days past, one day past.
Chairs; coats; walls; beams; stove;
Table; people; trees; water;
Creek flows by.
The night froze.
Morning came –
The dishes were washed.
I´ve been trying to write poems
for months now-
Words come as easy as
A cord hanging from a latch to the center of the door.
Moroccan prince, glued to the wall.
Shit comes out.
Thud at the bottom of the hole.
A naked tree waiting to be planted.
Christmas is over
Walk across the floor, walk across the floor.
The woods are free
You and me
Roots are free,
No dishes washed today because
The water was frozen all day.
A brown ceramic cup´s terminal existence
On the table: Phill: “This place is very brown.”
And Jesus said:
“Split wood and I am here.”
There was this bird,
A wren –
Darting in and out of the wood
It doesn´t seem to mind I´m here.
Never mind, wren,
Chop wood, pieces falling onto the pile,
Sounds in silently quickly moving
In high vibrations – this; this.
“I know there´s a worm in there somewhere.”
Paper wraps around stone; stone breaks
Scissors; scissors cuts paper; paper wraps-
Water still froze.
Carrying water in jugs to wash the dishes.
Let´s totally emerse.
Stars as real as blood
The fire roars
Chuck´s night in a dishlist world.
The reason anything means everything
It´s all the same
Purification takes place
Carrying water in the moonlight
We go out to trade piss for water
Purification by rejection of this and that
Is fixation keep turning
“The truth is pretty old” : IHVH
Moonlight dancing on the ripples
Cold fingers farmed on my belly
But still incomplete
We come out to trade piss for water,
Water for piss
Piss for water
In the same direction.
Quietly, near dawn
Four souls, half asleep
Fire consciousness fire
Rumbling in two drums
Sound of the creek
Wallpaper clinging to the walls.
Two roosters crowed
In the dead of night. Perhaps these
Roosters parallel us.
A baby cries.
Cat´s in the kitchen, stealing bread,
My cup is on the bookshelf.
Cats and people
Crouched in the Browntown Café
Waiting for dawn to be served
Some dreaming; some awake.
When the big changes come
Leave the mind to itself
Be here now
Don´t expect me to say or do anything,
Even when the tears come!
Leaves on the ground; snow;
It feels like spring,
Buds in the winter sun
Snow that cannot say they;
Waters that cannot say we;
Are flowing together
Come down to the river
Come down too!
It´s so fast no one can see
Where it´s going.
“He´s trying to dam it up!
But it still flows
The big stones never move
Could never confine a river
It just flows through, around
-to be posted on the henhouse door
TO ALL CHICKENS:
Any chicken wishing RELEASE from this world
Of Suffering and Fear and Desire into the
PURE LAND OF CHICKEN SOUP, PLEASE
Contact the cook, who (maybe ) is sitting on
The pot in the center of the coop.
There are no justifications!
There are no escapes – this is the real thing!
Guaranteed results! – No refunds.
P.S. this notice applies whether or not
(whether or not you can read or not)
ANY DAY NOW
All things must pass.
– There is nothing to say
– Dish night
The henhouse – within
Sitting on the roost; the rooster
Pecking, shoving, and scratching.
The sun is down, the sun is down!
-all center here.
“You gonna pluck him?”
“Sure, I´ll pluck him.”
-why not take me!
Dish consciousness is total consciousness
-the dish said to the spoon,
The pots get done.
Love that crusty sponge!
-the chicken knows!
-dishes to be done.
“Look at the look in his eyes.”
“He´s pressing up against me¨.”
“He´s afraid of the light.”
“Let him go before he gets away!”
-The chicken knows.
No more dishes to be done.
-there´s nothing to say.
Where´s the moon?……….on the rise, last quarter
-the rooster crows at dawn……
It´s an ordinary day.
Nothing to say….
(Good morning! Good morning!)
-this silly rooster has mistaken the …
The moon for the sun!
When the time comes,
One chop and the job is done.
The universe, some vast cup
-never needing to be washed.