Musings - 2021
6755 words.
Some typos. Some draft work.
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Imaginary Paris
Sitting down together
while I share stills of
my time in imaginary
Paris.
And where do you
wish you had been?
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Poem
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The Great Awakening poem
or simply rolling over like a
rodeo going back to sleep
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Poem
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Marisa leaving
Something about it
Lacing her shoes
I looked again
And she’s gone
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Poem 1/22/21 4:19 pm
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NOT POEMS
Kristin Ihle - Dr. Dose poem shuttle story
I met a psychologist. Another psychologist. Again. And I can’t for
the life of me remember how we got onto the topic of micro dosing.
I’m sure I brought it up. I had just finished the Michael Pollan book “How to Change Your Mind” which is about a resurgence in the science of psilocybin.
Micro-dosing, apparently, is a ‘new’ way to introduce hallucinogens into psychiatric practice.
There has been some study, more recently, that seems to indicate
that showing a person larger reality helps them break free of
addiction. And she had a personal story. Her daughter-in-law had a
heroin problem. They found a clinic or retreat in Mexico. She
went. After a short while returned clean and shiny as a brand new
penny.
Unfortunately she did not clean up her connections. She kept her
job. She kept her friends. She kept her habits. And within six
weeks she was back to heroin addiction.
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qq for Amelia
I ran across a quote the other day that reminded me
of you. I searched online for an attribution and could find
nothing. The quote is this: “You fall in love with the people who
make you love the person you are when you’re around them.” I
wonder if you have run across this quotation.
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Placebo Poem
We may think of a placebo as a pill.
I see it more as an agreement, a belief,
an acceptance of the story that you,
and the practitioner, put together.
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1/17/21
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Summer Sleepy
a thin summer sheet
albino python partially
draped lengthwise
along
a body caramelized by
the long day sun
ample thigh and
rib meat
showing
window open slightly
drapery breathing
underwear kicked
off to the
floor
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poem
1/16/21
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Traveling Sand
I pop out of my nap dream
like stopping on hyperdrive,
huffing and puffing, short of breath,
lips all dry. I must’ve been hanging my
dog head out the window, sniffing other
star clusters.
I had been composing the invitation
to my visitation and something
must’ve startled me.
Let’s review…
If it’s 5 January 2021 then I’m still alive and you haven’t missed
anything at all. Not to say you can’t still miss it somehow.
It occurred to me to release this now.
I’d like you to bring a thimble full of sand, your favorite sand,
clean I hope, and add it to my sand collection and the collection
of community gathering.
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, and more than enough sand. Think of
it like party food. Take some with you. There will be containers.
Please take some fluff. Don’t make me take it all.
Then, some day, even on your way home, when you’re feeling holy in
the moment or even sacramental, drop me at waters edge.
Ocean, lake, river, creek, even a swamp will do, it’s gotten too
dry in this life. .... Get up and get to work …
You can buy some sand if you need to from the big box. You don’t
need to have anything delivered from the Sahara or gaudy like
that.
Regular. Or special to you sand would be sweet.
Bring some with. Stir it in. Take some with.
Here lies the rest of David L White
...
© 2021 David L White
poem January 5, 2021
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Jigsaw Map poem
Anamorphic constellation
The stars in your eyes
You little twinkle, you
1/10/21
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Performance placebo poem
You might not be sure whether
Tab B belongs in Tab C but
at some point you agree that
this is what you needed to
help you heal.
1/21/21
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Shuttle Gardener
I took a guy to work today. He’s a gardener. It’s a big place.
He asked me to come around the back side
because the gift shop was busy.
He’s a master gardener. Lifelong. And I asked him to tell me some
of his favorite parts about his work. He said the best part is
it’s quiet and peaceful. And miraculous. There are plants and
animals no one‘s ever seen making an appearance on a regular
basis.
No one has ever seen? Well, perhaps. But these are different
because…
Because why? No one has judged them. They don’t have names.
They’re not listed in the scientific journals. No one has measured
or photographed them. No one has figured out how much
they’re worth on the open market. No one has set up a production
assembly line. The plants appear like miracles.
Mind you, there are certainly plenty of plants in the garden that
people do know the names of. Oak trees etc.
I asked him if there were tours. Yes, but you have to be naked.
Naked? Yes. Not only without clothing but without recording
devices of any kind. And you have to go one at a time so you can’t
compare notes with anyone else on the tour. And this last
recommendation is the most difficult. There’s a short
psychological evaluation you have to take regarding your
judgementalism. If you’re a little too harsh they have a nice lounge
off the gift shop.
Over time things come and go and I’ve never seen this year and of
course he took me in a service entrance on the backside of the
garden. When I left him I decided to go see the roadside
attraction. Low and behold if it isn’t the Garden of Eden itself.
The parking lot’s full of tour buses and family campers. There’s a
line waiting for photo ops at the Tree of Knowledge of Good and
Evil. (as if it’s the only tree in the place.) God and the snake are
juggling apples. Adam and Eve are autographing palm fronds.
The gardener did say you can come back anytime. Even after hours.
On the far side there’s a hole in the fence. You can keep your
pants on or, clothing optional. You can take photos too. But no
one will believe you.
There are cameras and sensors though. Actually brainwave, heart
muscle, detectors. Your intention is relayed. If you are overly
judgmental you will be escorted out immediately.
....
1/22/21
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Happy People
Yesterday I was riding with a guy. We passed the cemetery. Kind of
pretty. Quiet. Snow on the ground. He looked over at me and said,
“Look at all those happy people.”
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1/21/21
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Safe sound here now
Reported turmoil elsewhere
Is not here now.
Still safe sound
1/7/21 poem
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Announcing for the First Time Any Where
Hobo Daze finally meets Alphabet Zoupe and,
announces a new wagon in the parade,
Doctor Dave’s Traveling Medicine Show.
We’re getting the band back together.
We got big a Chunk of Nothing
and we’re happy to share.
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Poem (c) 2021 David L White
Sunday 1/10/21 7:40 am
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The Blank Page
tabula rasa
what to do with the sheet, the page,
the yawning abyss of ever
ever never-ness
yawning, yowling
baby, not bored, still screaming feed me
What to do with anything
ya damn well get your hands on?
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© 2021 David L White
Sunday 1/10/21 8:07 am
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Lying there, usually flat and sassy, often black-and-white and
unapproachable with attitude.
you think it’s attitude or you just don’t get it not for you
Rather it’s an invitation beyond slow down but actually seek
connection and Begin to move
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Poem 1/23/21
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Off Road
The keys for the
Hundred Mile Morning
are hanging on the board.
With other drivers strapping in
the dealer has no vehicle for
this next leg of my journey,
yonder we wander, off road we go,
moving at the pace of creation.
© 2021 David L White
October 21, 2021
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There is nowhere else unless, until,
we drag our here to there.
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6/2/21 Poem
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We’re getting the band back together.
Big Chunk of Nothing and we’re happy to share.
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Poem (c) 2021 David L White Sunday 1/10/21 7:40 am
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art word poem
If good and evil is a question
the answer is in the middle.
The word ‘and’ is in the middle.
Good And Evil. It is
between, as a bridge is between,
two edges of a chasm. Let go.
Jump off. Fall in.
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1/22/21
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Sound Healing
Reduce the noise.
Sound health. A little dusting. A tuneup. New strings.
Turn down the negative audio component.
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I confess to naughty things and imaginings
I’ve done to you
with you
Imaginary Friends with benefits
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12/30/21 poem
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I don’t need a story.
No one is asking.
Not sure how …
Wow.
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poem 10/29/21
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You can scrunch a peach And I can hold a prayer ,
while we both here in other rooms
together in our underwear
... © 2021 David L White Mid-July Beautiful Indoors Poem
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Paper, Palms, and Portals
It may look like the turkey that the kids brought home and hung on
the fridge. That’s OK. It’s great camouflage. The outline of your
palm is a labyrinth.
Start with a palm face down on a piece of laser paper.
Trace it in your mind.
Trace the shape with a pencil or a pen.
Trace it with your finger.
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NO PAPER
Now, slide away the paper and, with the index finger of your
dominant hand, trace your other hand. Palm up. Palm down.
I’ve heard it said that a person cannot tickle themselves. Try it.
Trace gently.
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PARTNER WORK PLAY
In the interest of consensual, non-carnal, connection,
A finger massage. Take turns. Make small talk. Or pretend you’re
looking for an insect bite. In other words… you’re helping one
another. Attending. Breathing and being.
Scary? Maybe. Better than a hug. Get both. All. Get all.
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First actual draft 1:58 PM November 14, 2021 Dedication: KF
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Rude tuna sandwich
The tuna is rude because
it came from a can.
Red onions are chopped,
tossed up in mid air
artfully and in slow motion,
by a blind-folded matador.
And these two items are
dropped, simply, on slab bread
with mayonnaise.
Rude tuna wonders ...
“Why bother to make a salad?”
Sandwich.
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October 21, 2021
poem
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I’m calling off my search for God
and going into recovery mode.
The ghost dogs are howling.
I’ll meet you at the Garden of Eden.
laden with gifts of fewer judgements.
Without our notions, we will be
completely naked and slip through
a side door. If anyone asks tell them
God sent you.
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July 31, 2021
Poem
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I
do
not
know
really,
mostly,
usually.
Faith
Hope
Belief
Guess
Hunch
Notion
Theory
Feeling
Opinion
Thought
Suspicion
Reflection
Hypothesis
Assumption
Expectation
Perspective
Speculation
Supposition
Instead of
Let it Go
you might just loosen your grip
a bit.
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Your medicine, meditation, mantra, mission statement,
and marching orders are all right here. It is the language we eat.
We can program upgrades into our circuitry and cells
because we said so. Because I said so.
My belly gurgles with desire and I stir my soup over the fire
of exuberance. Alphabet Zoupe contains all the letters in the
English language for use in your new story.
Start like this: Zoupa! (think gusto and exuberance)
Here’s to your health!
Here’s to napping
after lunch.
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Empire Crumble Cake: a recipe
Pissed that you missed my explicit wishes to cease chasing
opinions and conserve energy. Energy for the war, I mean,
referenced by you, in this time of coup. I need quiet time
to gird my loins, sharpen pencils, et cetera, et cetera.
One might think I need to press my talents to the bloody front
or my pen is not worth the paper it scribbles on; that somehow
art requires utility weaponized. Yet, here you are, with your
fully loaded, mouth, sniping rapid fire opinions at my generals
and direction- friendly fire perhaps, damaging still ... opinions.
Had I assembled all the facts, right, left, and center, and
lined them up like soldiers, there still exist the unruly band
of dissidents, waving flags of dissonance, cognitive and
otherwise. Indisputable facts, my ass.
It has been said that one needs to choose a side. Right or
wrong. Pro or con. Black or white. And I may say the choice
is between war and peace. And I’m choosing peace. And quiet.
Herewith I remind that I mentioned, early on, that I am near
deathly sick of my very own opinion, even, as well. The drums,
the gunfire, the bloody screaming; friendly fire perhaps / damaging
still. And you, you, are making far too much noise. Your location
has been compromised. I recalibrate the cannon.
I’m ordering a detachment of my detachment a seal team of
troops to bivouac deep in the thicket of your curious imagination
Listen for my camp tune; a reveille, a revelry of reverie. whisper
with me, quietly ... until it's
time to cut the horses loose and ride higher; launching biochemical
offensives of oxytocin, serotonin, dopamine so that it reeks of love,
joy and wonder, so thick and heavy that even moving … moves carefully
We will dance together on Smoke Signal Rock and watch the facade
of empire crumble. There will be cake.
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© 2021 David L White
After the insurrection poem
1/16/21
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Tropical Lockdown
The tropical lockdown
has encouraged me to
excavate the underneath
or nearly everything
while I am aware of
storm surge flooding.
Get in.
Grab on.
Get out.
How much the worth
in reclamation and
at what cost?
Or start, restart,
somewhat anew
fresh perspective
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© 2021 David L White
Sunday, December 12, 2021
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Seemingly shiny,
superficial membranes,
separate the simple
and the other complex.
A mere touch may allow
access to the realms.
Ask and be transported.
Attend and transform.
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Copyright 2021 David White
March 13, 2021
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In the bedroom, away from the television,
I hear the spring birds, outside the window,
singing, at dusk
They must’ve gone to sleep as I write now
Still I am away from the television
listening to myself sing this song
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April 8, 2021
7:42 PM
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As if to simplify
Let me tell you
how close to perfect
it (1) seems.
It (2) goes pretty quickly
if we don’t compare
anything. ???
It (1): the here now
It (2): the telling
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© 2021 David L White
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A writer merely
starts a book. The reader
finishes it.
- Samuel Johnson
This quotation spoke to me immediately
and directly to any teeny, tiny tendency
I have towards perfectionism. It certainly
includes artists and entertainers in any genre.
It includes your favorite quarterback.
Creators create.
Consumers critique.
Free at last.
Free at last.
…
David L White
(c) 2021
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Enough is
Enough is
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Welcome Home
Levitate a galaxy
in the palm of your hand.
Spin it with your breath.
Pretty cool, right?
And as you move it
you may very well
discern faces. Your
own perhaps, too.
Welcome home.
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Copyright 2021 David L White
November 24 9:28 AM
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Audience Art Box
Whether country western lyrics or political cartoons,
the audience very rarely comes in the bag with the art supplies.
The Artist needs to trot, two step, waltz, shuffle or otherwise
dazzle enough eyeballs until someone sees them in
alignment with whatever the eyeballs are already selling.
Or, one could wake up as inauguration poet star
wearing Oprah’s earrings and, magically an agent,
booking you on talk shows for a few,
giddy days
Good is good, right? Quality and quantity is the
critic and consumer choice.
If I lift only my very own self, Let that be enough.
...
© 2021 David L White
1/22/21
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Nap Time
a thin summer sheet albino python
partially draped lengthwise along
a body caramelized by the long day sun
ample thigh and rib meat showing
window open slightly drapery breathing
underwear kicked off to the floor
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poem
1/16/21
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Hope Salts
Someday we will be together again,
smiling near, sharing air,
just like old times, all brand new.
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(c) 2021 David L White
Early Sunday for jp 1/17/21
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Oprah’s Earrings
We were needing a group hug some Oh My God some trans fixation
We were all ready to catch our breath to
and with that pair of hands dancing incantations.
Raspberry raisin in a bright yellow butter cup beamed straight up
in a spotlight heartbeat
a decent piece of poetry
refuses to any more lie flat on the page to go dark and gather
dust
once the magic hands have blown it life and raised it up
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© 2021 David L White
January Saturday 23
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Heaven
Safely lost in the library.
Books just like trees where
underneath the covers they share stuff
after a while immersion grows toward fluency
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Poem 1/23/21
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Junk Drawer Coffin
You know that old saying
“You can’t take it with you”?
This is a permission slip. Get cremated,
or some ecological upgrade, and take
your shit with you. Put it a box with a
nice marker.
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© 2021 David L White
1/22/21
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Placebo Team Agreement
Placebo Poem
We may think of a placebo as a pill.
I see it more as an agreement, a belief,
an acceptance of the story that you and
the practitioner put together.
…
Apparently your belief
is the principal ingredient.
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(c) 2021 David L White
Poem 1/22/21
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Imaginary Paris
Sitting down together
while I share still photos
of my time in imaginary Paris.
And where do you wish you’ve been?
We have time. Do tell.
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Poem
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The Great Awakening poem
or simply rolling over like a rodeo
going back to sleep
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Marisa leaving
Something about it Lacing her shoes
I changed windows And she’s gone
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Poem 1/22/21 4:19 pm
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Lying there, usually flat and sassy, often
black-and-white and unapproachable
with attitude.
you think “it’s attitude” or you “just don’t get it”
Or “not for me.”
Rather it may be an invitation beyond slow down
but actually seeks connection and begins to move
...
Poem
1/23/21
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River Dance Cafe
Watch your thoughts … the gurus say. Just fine for watchers, yes?
Listening … I … hear so much more. Now my body jumps to change it
up.
Let's dance with our thoughts jazz boogie, two step, line dance,
ballroom, waltz, fill in the blank, or simply sway in the breeze.
Resting between numbers at the River Café, we people watch and …
there … look … beyond … the flowing. Listen.
…
© 2021 David L White 1/30/2021
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POEM
Two shovels, random not rhythmical, in and out of time together,
scraping sludge off the apron of the driveway, before the tomorrow
storm and deep freeze coming week.
Rubber boot heels clopping on the dry sidewalk, carrying sludge
away from the initial, five foot anchor piles
An occasional bird tweet in blue, blue sky and the immense quiet
of the snow cover on our dead end street.
I can see the breath and hear the breathing.
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2/3/21
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Opinions et cetera
I’m less motivated to craft a story plausible to either one of us.
I'm not feeling particularly collaborative at this time.
Creative energy calls me elsewhere.
The Muse has my number.
It’s an emergency.
Gotta go.
Later.
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Poem 2/28/2021
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The ways this could be different
Perhaps infinite or innumerable
Not that our computing couldn’t handle
big numbers but that I, for one, would
run out of steam long before the tomorrow,
or later date of any final tally
The caring is missing. Especially since
the speculation removes me
from this exact moment.
it removes me and here right now
and ….
I’m happy enough
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poem 3/29/21 3:49 am
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Most of us are busy redefining the universe
moment by moment. The poet however is
on stage doing sound checks.
Rhythm, meter, assonance, dissonance,
consonants, tooting and tuning the long vowel
pronounced vow-elle, alliteration, internal rhyme,
playing with it all so that it moves so that the
audience may sway. And hoot their approval.
The poet has little dreams for his percentage
of concessions and merchandise. Perhaps
an agent in the future.
There’s enough feedback from the empty seats.
...
Monday, March 29, 2021 6:40 AM
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In the bedroom, away from television,
I hear spring birds, outside
the window, singing, at dusk
They must’ve gone to sleep as I write now
and I’m away from the television still listening
to my self sing this song.
...
April 8, 2021 7:42 PM
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Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional.
Perfection is inevitable. Good And Evil are optional.
Thinking is inevitable. Conclusions are optional.
Options Available
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poem 4/13/21
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Momentarily Forever
“The hell with joy,” I say,
‘Let it rain on the parade.
Sugar momma promised.
You know what she said.”
Know that I heard this also…
I could sit with you, catch your eye,
hug you maybe, hold your hand,
scratch your back, not say a word,
as long as not unbearable.
Not a word. Temporarily yours,
Love. Sugar momma promise.
...
Poem for JB 4/30/21 6:08 am
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Only Moments Remain
By only I do not mean few,
depends on what you do,
there may be fewer if you
are waiting for later to arrive
Meanwhile, during the in between,
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May Day 5/1/21
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Jade Green
Do you think that there are more colors of green
in the early spring than in August? Or are there
the same number of greens but by then we’re jaded.
I asked Camelia, bilingual Spanish and English,
if verde is the color green. She verified the verde.
What color green is Verde? Or, what are the names
of the other colors of green?
She could only think of three. Grass. Pine.
That’s only two. Neither of them
jade green.
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Poem 5/4/21
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River Dance Cafe
Watch your thoughts … the gurus say. Just fine for watchers, yes?
Listening … I … hear so much more. Now my body jumps to change it
up.
Let's dance with our thoughts boogie, jazz, two step, line dance,
ballroom, waltz, fill in the blank, or simply sway in the breeze.
Resting between numbers at the River Café, we people watch and …
there … look … beyond … the flowing. Listen.
…
© 2021 David L White 1/30/2021
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Saturday mid morning
Tasty, sweet, and if you bite down too hard
you may bust a tooth
and choke to death.
The fruit of the tree of knowledge of good
and evil also contains
the pit of hell.
Yeah. Spit that out.
...
(c) 2021 David L White
2/6/21 poem
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Wistful, wonderful love.
The separation that is not distant.
The isolation that is not alone.
Wistful, wonderful love.
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2/6/21 poem
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As if to simplify
A seeming, shiny,
superficial membrane
separating the simple
and the ever complex.
A mere touch may allow
access to the realms.
Ask and be transported.
Attend and transform.
…
© 2021 David L White
poem 3/13/21
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Watch your language.
Watch your thoughts.
Listening works, too.
Listening to your self.
Speaking out loud.
Activating your voice.
Out freaking loud.
Play along.
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(c) 2021 David L White poem
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Betty Elsewhere
Gary Chattanooga, Sandy Indiana, Betty God knows where.
The couple of garbage sleds parked in her driveway point to
her back patio full of worldly furniture, sitting in the rain.
Bye bye, Betty Elsewhere
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poem April 11, 2021
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Theory and practice
We can speak about higher vibrations,
as if, beyond theoretical.
We can also practice that speaking;
rising up as theory indicates.
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© 2021 by David L White
May 22, 2021 poem
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Stirring the soup as
steaming aroma rises wood
spoon clacking pot
... Poem Haiku 2/6/21
Saturday after noon
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Naming Rights
It's your life. Mostly.
Call it as you see it.
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poem 6/23/21
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Wonton pierogi poem
You can scrunch a peach
And I can hold a prayer, while
we both here, in other rooms,
together, in our underwear
...
© 2021 David L White
Mid-July Beautiful Indoors Poem
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...
On the evening that the UN issues a code red for humanity she is
hosting a graduation dinner at El Beso for her Monday night class.
The Tuesday class is also invited.
We may split a fajita or nachos. Also, it’s raining like hell.
We’ll have the umbrella. To go.
...
(C) 2021 David L White
August 21 2021 poem
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Picnic in Rumi’s Field
Hold Up and the River Bank
Discuss debate speculate form hold
deliver opinions of little consequence
Win lose right wrong
Like waves or tides or recurring anything
I stretch my comfortable position.
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Sunday poem
Close above the tree line
geese flying south over the
river and before I could even
think of camera I looked up
and left it all behind
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Modeling
Nearing autumn, yet spring is springing with seeds reaching for
the light, tendrils stretching, buds blossom, harvest into soup …
simmers
She tells me she’s a model, Chicago bound for now and yet I see
none of the runway stereotypical, nonchalant, aloof, learned way
to stay safe when everyone wants something I, too, do wish now
merely to be seen
She is looking into, more than looking, seeing into me, notable,
and I am not afraid to be seen so clearly. I actually feel felt;
cared for.
The table is set and we eat this fleeting moment
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© 2021 David L White September 17, 2021
poem Hawa Mohamed Hawa Arbow
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Listen. We are breathing. Together. While reading this.
I’m amazed. Hope you, too.
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Poem September 29, 2021 8:24 PM
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Everything and Enough
The quest continues as
less an actual search
and more of a
meander.
Hey. Look. There.
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poem
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You need to be heard.
Possibly by your own self.
I think you already know.
Say it. Joyfully.
Ears for rent. Eyeballs extra.
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poem 10/17/21
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When the sky is the same
color as the ground and there
is no horizon in the snow, the
geese go by, honking at the
silhouette of trees,
and whistling through
my pencil paper
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October 21, 2021
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It was amazing to meet Rumi in that field
out beyond right and wrong. Old friends.
We lingered, and with nothing else to say,
moved on. It’s no place to build a house.
Spoils the view.
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Poem October 29, 2021
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Velveteen Frankensteen
I stitched this little dummy together
from scrap fabrics thrown on
the floor and draped over the bed.
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11/5/21 poem
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What are you going to do?
Just love while silencing the background noise.
That is the going
and the doing.
It happens like that in Hollywood and real life. Too.
Intense. Not howling, but the dissipation thereof.
Silence overwhelming until all is well.
Run it backwards. Find the All is Well and the
quiet might just pop up
and say hello.
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poem 10/28/21
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Blossoming into irrelevance
The impossibly complex does not seem to stop
until and when you do not poke it anymore.
Momentarily simple
superficially
I’d hate to know so much about it, that I might tell you,
in order for you to decide if I do or not - whatever.
It’s easier for both of us if I don’t know.
Or describing the here and now by wielding words
as sharp as, or, similar to Ginsu knives,
portioning and plating Here Now into chunks
with differing Use By dates.
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11/3/21
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Reprioritization algorithms
Juggling space time mirror balls
without the circus noise and
cotton candy on everything
invite me into flow so that
only the dance remains.
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poem 11/3/21
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poem
Mind Expanding does not require
psychedelics. Words and
meanings are a lovely step.
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Thursday November 4, 2021
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Blossoms
The swish of the all day night shirt
dancing from window to window,
following the day long sun
while looking for pencil,
paper, coffee, glasses.
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10:40 Poem 11/2/21
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Sit on talking rock under a
breathing tree near living water
and me with a kite in the cloud puddle
fishing for yum yum custard pie
____________
© 2021 David L White
DLW Poem Nov 20 2017 5:42 AM
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Palms: presence and portals
It may look like the turkey artwork the kids brought home and hung
on the fridge. That’s OK. It’s great camouflage. Trace it down.
Hang it up. The image can act as a labyrinth; a path home to you.
Start with your non-dominant palm face down on a piece of copy
paper.
First, in your imagination, trace your palm to the paper.
Next, with a pencil or a pen, trace your hand, on the paper.
Now, trace the tracing with your finger.
Slide the paper away, and, with the index finger of your dominant
hand, trace your other hand. Breathe loving. Palm up. Palm down.
We’ve heard it said that a person cannot tickle themselves. Try
it. Trace gently.
Partner Portal
Find a partner for a massage of fingers. Take turns. Do the tracing.
Make small talk if you need distraction. Eye contact is optional.
Or pretend you’re looking for a sliver or insect bite. In other
words … you’re attending one another. Breathing and being. It's
touching.
Try palm writing with each other. Alone works, as well, if not
better. Palm writing? Write love into your skin. Write your name.
Love me.
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© 2021 David L White
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For instance:
“A writer only begins a book. A reader finishes it.”
– Samuel Johnson
This quotation spoke to me immediately and directly to
any teeny tiny tendency I have towards perfectionism.
Beyond writers and readers, it certainly includes
artists and entertainers in any genre. It includes your
favorite quarterback. I rewrote it.
“Creators create. Consumers critique. Free at last. Free at last.”
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Using the alphabet soup to sustain myself while I work up ….
I love you.
That appears to me to be a very fine use of language.
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© 2021 David L White
DLW 11/14/21 2:56 PM poem
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Micro Tai Chi
One smooth move, Intensely present.
Who knows? You?
Do tell. What? What? What?
Run the forms later maybe.
Move now. Love now.
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Copyright 2021 David L White
11/22/2021 Poem
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Hobo Daze*
You can safely, find yourself lost,
relax, explore rediscover awe,
wonder wander, micro momentarily,
simply play the day
If you seem unable to schedule self time,
then please take a rain check from this
official sounding fictional holiday as my
gift to you. Let’s go get disappeared.
You. I’m already there and back.
Interdimensional Picnic and Parade
April 12th @ 11 AM
Meeting at the River
Rain checks honored
It’ll be good to see you.
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Copyright 2021 David L White
11/23/2021 Poem
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Star Seed Blossoms for Thanksgiving
In the valleys of the Slower Branch Ranch
we cultivate compassion, grow hope, germinate joy -
seed, stalk, leaf, and root, bud, blossom, flower, fruit
in digging that dirt and kissing the breeze we watch
in amazement as the stars seed the fields
here now, me the feeder, you the eater,
it works both ways simultaneously of course, you know,
I cannot grow it all and I have to eat, too.
We pause in this moment of grace and
I thank you for your work
here in the dirt
________________________________
© David L White for Thanksgiving
11/23/17 1:56 - 2:15 am
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Crystal, long time friend, I feel like my teddy bear life came home
from the seamstress. My buttons are tightened, limbs are stitched,
and my smile glued on straight again.
Thank you for your call today. All my heart, David
11/23/21
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Word, as a pill, a placebo perhaps.
Consume it joyfully. And blow
it out your ass.
Word.
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(c) 2021 David L White
11/24/2021 Poem @8:26 AM
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Sandblasting
I’ve heard of people searching for sea glass
on the shores of Lake Michigan. As if that could happen.
Maybe we could call it sand glass. It’s probably the sand
that does most of the etching anyway.
And glass? It’s made of sand, anyway.
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(c) 2021 David L White
12/02/2021 Poem
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Yes. No.
Is. Is not.
Does. Does not.
Do. Do not.
Should. Should not.
Never. Always.
poem Dec. 2021
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Pantry
What is in the cupboard now?
Find what is there.
Later that will change.
We remember.
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(c) 2021 David L White 12/2/21 poem
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How many ways could things be different?
How many ways could it be exactly as it is?
Let’s start counting. We will make lists.
Or one … maybe.
You take your body to the doctor and your car to the garage
How often do you kiss yourself, luxuriate, massage?
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Dec. 2 2021 poem
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DID YOU KNOW?
You can summon a thesaurus with a Ouija board.
Seems kind of obvious after you figured it out, doesn’t it?
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What the heck?
Do you ever have that insurmountable problem that, in retrospect,
you look and say what the heck?
It’s almost embarrassing how obvious and simple it turned out.
I hate to even mention for fear of looking stupid. I don’t think
I’m alone. It’s a comforting thought.
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Circus Mindful
Envision Design
Promote Practice Schedule Perform
Trapeze Clowns Tickets Elephant Shit and
¡¡¡ SHOW TIME !!!
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(c) 2021 David L White Circus Mindful Poem
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Don’t
know.
Yet.
And, if you don’t find out until ever is over,
it’ll still be all right. Promise.
Check with me when ever it’s over.
I’ll give you your money back.
Keep your receipt.
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(c) 2021 David L White Poem 12/13/21
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Tropical Lockdown
The tropical lockdown has encouraged me to excavate the underneath
of nearly everything while I am aware of storm surge flooding.
Get in. Grab on. Get out. How much worth in reclamation and at
what cost?
Or start, restart, somewhat anew fresh perspective
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© 2021 David L White
Poem Sunday, 12/12/2021
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I’d like to make lunch in the summer time in the kitchen with you.
In our underwear. One of us might fart. We both will laugh.
Thank God the windows are open.
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Poem 12/17/21
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Enjoy the cookie
It seems as though much of the talk about manifestation is simply
… talk about manifestation. About the thing. Not quite the thing.
It also seems similar to breathing practices. Sometimes we breathe
intentionally because of all the reasons we breathe intentionally.
And otherwise, when we forget, we are still breathing. And so,
here we are, in all our manifest self-ness. Just like that.
Here. Have a cookie.
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Part Two - Enjoy the Cookie
The practice of being where you are,
and not wishing it were otherwise,
can be a fun game too.
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Copyright 2021 David L White
Saturday 12/18/21
Full Moon 5:33 AM
Poem
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Hang on. Relax.
Why would I want to learn anything any more?
It doesn’t look like conversations get much traction.
If I wish for contentment, a little joy and peace, awe and wonder,
then it is here, at hand, every time I check.
Ah yes, the present moment, here and now, hang on.
Try it someday. Maybe.
Hang on. Relax.
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© 2021 David L White
12/21/21 poem
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A photo, like a postcard, to a pen pal. The visceral, visual
”thousand words” and a few words personal.
December 21, 2021
poem - an idea for my pen pal.
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You’ve decided to take time for yourself. Perhaps you’re joining a
drum circle. The anticipation is also good for you. This is all in
advance of the actual drumming. This is in advance of the sound
and physical upper body dance or if they are standing drums and
standing and running. But first you decided to take care of
yourself. A huge component in any healing methodology.
You. Choose.
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12/22/21 poem
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Because I said so
You might’ve heard it. You might’ve said it.
Usually it seems to come with a frown. And when we turn it upside
down, it may act like magic, matter-of-factory, acting magically.
Because I said so. Abracadabra.
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(c) 2022 David L White
Early Day Date January Poem
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Ride Share Model
Nearing autumn, yet spring is springing with seeds reaching for
the light, tendrils stretching, buds blossom, harvest into soup …
simmering
Hawa Arbow is a model, Chicago bound for now and I see none of the
runway stereotypical, nonchalant, aloof, learned way to stay safe
when everyone wants something, I, too, do wish something merely to
be seen
She is looking into, sees into me, notably, and I am not afraid to
be seen so clearly. I actually feel felt; gladly, cared for.
She wished it. We shook on it.
The table is set and we eat these fleeting moments.
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© 2021 David L White
September 17, 2021 poem
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Garden of Eden
It’s everything else that the cartoonist Zuleta left out of this
picture that intrigues me.
Here he has drawn all the players, and the ground they stand on,
and not another thing.
Let’s send them out to the gift shop for a moment to perform and
sign autographs.
While they’re offstage, we’ll take a minute to look at the Garden.
Unnamed. Unmeasured. Unjudged. Perfect.
Contrary to what you may have been told there is no gate,
guarded or otherwise.
Reduce judgement bit by bit; incrementally. Drop your fronds.
Get invisible. Lose your self. Move at will.
There must be more to it. No end to possibilities. ‘
Let’s sit awhile and enjoy the beauty.
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© 2021 David L White
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An early step in sound healing may be cleaning your environment.
Reducing toxic audio abusive audio inputs. Turn off the news.
You heard it before. Or simply reduce. Step-by-step.
Sound healing begins with changing your audible environment.
Word, as a pill, a placebo perhaps. Consume it joyfully.
Word.
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(c) 2021 David L White
11/24/2021 Poem @8:26 AM
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At love / with me
Sometimes we may say in love.
Since I finally started with me it’s getting easier to be at love
and carry it along with me to share, as if,
as if at love
… © 2021 David L White poem
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My gift may be less about the art as a product and more the art as
a process. Let’s look under the hood. I think you can drive this, too.
… Poem 12/28/21
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Tunneling the David Range
Exploring, mining, blasting, excavating the overburden, tunneling,
spelunking, hiking, camping, and kayaking, all in the hope of
recovering the long fabled treasure of Generalissimo DahVeed.
Off Road leads me home.
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© 2021 David L White poem
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I’m venting about invention requiring inventory.
Sometimes I wish I’d been pre-vented
from asking in the first
place.
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© 2021 David L White Poem
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Morocco in a coke bottle
I mentioned, to Bob, my imaginary sand visitation ceremony where
celebrants mix the sand they brought into my open urn cremains
Bring some. Take some. Please release me when you feel holier than usual
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust and sand in your back pocket
The little bridge over Southwick Creek as it flows into the Bay is
a lovey place … the eastern edge of Edgewater Park, in Williams Bay.
I’ve walked over and back my whole life. Why not now too?
Well, Bob opened up and offered to bring double pinch of Morocco
in a Coke bottle
Sahara, baby. Ain’t that swish?
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C 2021 David L White
12/31/21 Poem
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Since I got off road with my driver job and retired the clock in
the calendar have melted a little bit, recipe reminiscent of
Salvador Dali.
I am noting the choreography of my foot fall and trail.
I’m hiking and camping the David Range. Not spelunking. I’m not
kayaking. Just wandering deeper and deeper in. Finding interesting
stuff in the digs. And there are areas where I have opened up
blasting and excavating. Small areas. Exploration. We need to
extract some building material for the legacy house. The alphabet
soup memorial library and test kitchen.
Only recently after all these years, insert years here, did I
discover that VerandaNanda was the gatekeeper in mind reader and
my other imaginary friend, the illustrious Dr. Dave, also
practices in the library. He dissection analyze his words and
phrases. For no good reason. Nothing we can monetize or capitalize
on anyway.
It turns out the library is actually a large without buildings.
But the lodge is built over a Hot Spring that is fed by the
fountain of youth. Quite a deal.
... ...
Consuming Exuberance
Added Zoupa Gusto
Jargon Lingo Salad
Power Full Tasty
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© 2021 David L White
Poem 12/31/21
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