Beautiful Path
poems by
jay dancing bear
Dear Reader,
During the winter of 1996-7 I housesat for a friend in Santa Rosa, California. For me, as for many of us, winter is a time when I go inward, and I found this to be a particularly deep winter.
Although I have been a songwriter for over 20 years, I have rarely written words without music, yet this winter I found myself seized with bursts of inspiration which demanded to be written down, to the point where I had to carry a notebook everywhere.
In Santa Rosa there are several creeks with trails alongside where one may walk and avoid some of the most abusive drivers I have ever encountered, and the creeks are beautiful. Many of these poems were written on these walks. A few earlier writings are included.
Often I would walk a few minutes, stop, pull out my notebook (spiral), write some lines, put it away, walk twenty or thirty feet, pull out the notebook again, write some more, etc. Even in town I would sometimes feel compelled to stop in the middle of a sidewalk and write, because I have learned that inspiration must be honored and if I didn’t write it down as it was coming, I wouldn’t remember it correctly.
Well, there you have it, the story of how this work came to be.
Namaste,
Jay Dancing Bear
Contents
Love Speaks
Adieu!
Glowing
Kissing a Rose
27th Birthday
June 13th
In Exile
Broken Shell
Waterbreather
Home
Where is Peace
Who Can Judge
Buried Treasure
American Walk
The Good Guys
Done
The Artist’s Manifesto
Gratification
Mint Tea-Bonnie Doon
Nine PM
Beautiful Path
Love Speaks
i didn’t come into your life
so that you could have a nice
safe
cozy existence
i came to bring fire
to light you like a bonfire
to burn out all impurities
leaving you shining
beautiful
radiant
strong
capable of rendering wonderful service
a great cretan urn
baked in the fires
now holding precious cargo
wine
or perhaps olive oil
which shall be served at the feast
all make merry
Adieu!
It was nighttime
I could not find your door
having been there only once before
and unable to see in the dark
You are young, too young for me, but
Your soul is old, older, perhaps
than mine
which is quite old
I recognize you and
I believe I amuse you
You are quite regal in your bearing
but plainspoken
adieu!
Glowing
Alone with you
at night
Candlelight
Naked
Warm
Glowing
Kissing a Rose
kissing a rose
stem on my palate
thorns between my lips
tongue poked deep into the flower
the petals
so soft, so delicate
as I caress them with my tongue
my tongue swells up
blood stains my lips
life is like this
I embrace her
experience
unite
love
bleed
such pain
such sweetness
unbearable
exquisite
when it’s over
god holds me
close with his hands
and comforts me
with love
amin
This is a song I wrote for myself on my 27th birthday
Many hard years have come and gone
many good ones too
the poetry of a flower obscures the fiercest proseodist
the lessons I have learned I learned many times
before they got through
I try to see myself in a clear light
as I am
Inner divinity notwithstanding
I am still a man
June 13th
June 13th
it is winter
the wind blows outside my window
when it was sunny i wished for darkness
it seemed more appropriate
when the sun shines the people go into the streets
sometimes we need barriers
when i’m with you sometimes i need to be alone
when i’m alone sometimes i want to be with you
do you think we can work out a set of signals
or should we just use words
please leave
i didn’t mean to hurt you
please stay
but i wish you would leave
and come back tomorrow
In Exile
i am odysseus
washed up on these shores
many years from home
i though i had stopped journeying
i will never stop journeying
this stoic front
this scheduled life
just one more island
i could leave in a minute
goodbye, but
where to next?
these islands
they used to reveal me
now they hide me
who am i?
and
who are you?
when i know these answers
with the flesh and bone of my body
i will be home
but, until then
i wander the earth
doomed
lonely
unloved
broken shell
broken shell
left on a beach
are you a piece of my armor
which is crumbling
and without which
i feel naked
waterbreather
sitting in the remains
my self made isolation tank
you see no bubbles
though i have run out of air
i still breathe
home
turning my face and my footsteps towards home
this is as far as i can go
polar opposite-180* away
i was a woman, now i’m a man
i was a man, now i’m a woman
whatever i was, i am now the opposite
and as i continue around the circle
i begin the descent
into the atmosphere
of the world which bore me
colors
give glory to the sky
and the clouds
are perfect
home is a place in my heart
long abandoned
never empty
dreams sleep there
beautiful dreams
which i am sure you would understand
if i opened my heart
to you
Where is peace?
I have enough food
I want more
I have enough money
I want more
I have enough sex
I want more
I have enough books
I want more
If I just had more to eat
I would feel better
If I just hadn’t stuffed myself
I would feel better
If I could just get home
I would feel better
If I could just go out
I would feel better
If I were just ten years
younger, older, prettier, smarter, lighter, heavier
more energetic, less manic
If I just had more friends
less people taking up my time
if, if, if, if, if, if
where is peace?
Distraction is the name of the game
Unfullfillment fulfills my ego’s need to be
Just being, too difficult to be that
Safe, no, too stupefying
Where is peace?
Where is peace?
Who can judge?
In prison
a prisoner of my own shame and fears
a circular wall around me
large spikes
barbed wire
facing the world outside
Inside
a world of my own
with it’s own weather
fair weather and foul
dark clouds and sunny days
loneliness and peaceful solitude
Dreams
of building a bridge to the outside
and sharing gifts
Meanwhile
the days pass
the years pass
life passes
whether this is good
or ill
as it should be
or utmost failure
who can judge
not I
god has given each of us
certain cards
and we must play the hand we are dealt
as best we can
who can judge
not I
buried treasure
An old map, held together with tape
A treasure map
difficult to read
the tape obscures the writing
but still
What is essential
is available
to those with perception
American Walk
walking down innumerable nameless streets
not nameless to the people who live here
but nameless to me
someone who is walking for the walk of it
the conquerors of old
invaded in waves
and swept aside the previous wave of conquerors
like old newspaper
this land we walk on
the phrase “this land” means so much more
than the ground underneath our feet
this land
conquered
invaded
stolen from the previous inhabitants
now we
the “americans”
chew our nails in fear
that our turn will come and
we too will become
slaves
of new masters
dispossessed
homeless
lost
The Good Guys
dedicated to American Foreign policy
we are the good guys
you are the bad guys
you must be the bad guys
otherwise
we might be the bad guys and
that is unacceptable
you are a bad person
I know that you are a bad person
so you must know that you are a bad person
otherwise
how could you disagree with me
I am right
you are wrong
it is obvious
why don’t you just make life easy and agree with me
then you can be a good guy too
of course then we will have to find another bad guy
so that we know that
we are the good guys
Done
rushing, rushing, rushing
scenery slides by in a blur
mind
click, click. click
Soon I’ll get there and
then I’ll get someplace else
I get a lot done
don’t I
The Artist’s Manifesto
i am an artist
fuck you!
give me money
feed me
buy me my drug of choice
fuck me
oh Sacred Spirit of the six directions
please take this bourgeois society
and collectively shove it up the ass
of the Great Mother
they deserve it
for not recognizing my greatness
humbly yours,
an artist
Gratification
a constant flow of gratification
is not gratifying
when
nothing is enough
Mint tea-Bonnie Doon
drinking mint tea
hot sun
green trees
birds sing
lunch
on the deck
in the sun
brown rice-vegetables
on a blue plate
ahhh, bliss
Nine PM
Pastel shades of evening
the tree outside my window
what more could i ask for
than to see the beauty of the sky
Beautiful Path
.
I walk this path
every day
watching my breath and
hearing my mind race
It’s a beautiful path
often I don’t see it
but when I do
it’s a beautiful path
Socrates Thalassos (formerly jay dancing bear) -----The Adventure Continues! 