Blue Moon

Blue moon, so hard to trace

Stone cold silence ’cross my face

Red wine can dull the pain

Till I’m back with you again

Two ships that meet up in the night

It’s once upon a time so right

A star so bright it burns my eyes

With happy ever after lies

Blue moon is in my mind

Traces of you in the wine

So hard to make you out

Tortured mind, so full of doubt

Call of the wild, I hear your name

Figure soundly in your game

Win or lose, I know no shame

Nor do I accept your blame

Blue moon, like frozen rain

Pierce my skin to dull the pain

Blue moon, lost in my brain

And I will find you once again.

(2001)

Trusting Child

This was published in my university literary newspaper called, "The Shank's Mare" back in the spring of 1984. It was the first time I was published.

                              

If he knew about the darkness

If he knew about the lies

                                                Destruction rains upon the child

                                                Who turns his head and blinds his eyes

From people who would make pretend

Stab your back and act the friend

Treachery—a hollow shell

That is hidden all too well

Innocent, don’t be a fool

For there lurks a maggot who will

Take what’s yours and run away

Guard against deceptive play

Trusting child, learn to doubt

Or you’ll find yourself without

Beware the shadow’s hidden blade

Beware the sunlight’s warm façade.

                                               (1983)

Label: The Poems

Day Thirteen

Where did the time go? I was supposed to write my thoughts on smoking every day like a journal. I’ll try to get back on track now.

I went to see my dentist on day eight for my annual checkup and teeth cleaning. As usual, both the dentist and the hygienist said that my gums are receding due to smoking. As usual, that remark went in one and out the other. My dad quit smoking many years ago, and his gums continue to recede; so I figure it runs in the family.

From day eight to today, I did not quit nor did I wean. I smoked at will and thoroughly enjoyed my cigarettes. In writing this book, I have discovered the joy of smoking all over again. In fact, I have determined that all those antismoking commercials have been brainwashing me in a way that takes the fun out of smoking. Prior to the onslaught of antismoking ads, I smoked at will without worry. And that is exactly how I smoked these past five days.

What have I learned this week? The only way I shall ever quit smoking is if I decide to forgo the pleasure it gives me, which would probably make me feel like a martyr, like I was doing something noble and noteworthy. I would revel in my martyrdom, thinking that I had quit smoking for the betterment of this world and that my example should convince every smoker to quit. Eventually I would be canonized, “Saint Janet, the Cigarette Martyr.”  Smokers everywhere would pray to me for guidance and strength and the willpower necessary to quit poisoning their bodies by partaking of the evil weed.

Why did God put tobacco on this planet? What higher purpose was it supposed to serve? I’ve always thought that since tobacco is a natural substance on this planet, I have every right and reason to smoke it.  (Then I think: Did God intend for us to take this plant, dry it out, turn it into little sticks, light it up and inhale at will?) 

What higher purpose does tobacco serve? I've named one. It improves the cognitive functions of schizophrenics. That is definite, proven. So I do believe that tobacco exists for medicinal reasons. Maybe those of us who smoke, and can’t quit, need the tobacco for some unknown medicinal purpose. Maybe we are self-medicating in a positive way to achieve a positive end result. Maybe Janet is trying very hard to convince herself that smoking is a good and healthy habit.

It is time to address the advertising aspects of cigarettes—the packaging. Here in Canada our cigarette packages are now emblazoned with photographs of cancerous lungs and mouths, statistics on smoking-related deaths, a picture of a man coughing due to emphysema . . . And how has this new antismoking campaign affected me? I bought a beautiful silver cigarette case. I remarked to a friend that my silver case almost makes it look like smoking is a good—acceptable—habit.

Is the new packaging having any positive results? I don’t know. I did hear a report that teenagers are swapping photos from the packages to collect the series. They enjoy the gross-out factor. Everywhere I look, I still see young people smoking, same as always. Social smoking has been around for centuries now. Centuries! The antismoking clan is vying with centuries of cigarette smoking and therefore should not expect overnight results. 

I think, therefore I smoke. I thoroughly believe that nicotine is directly linked to my creativity—that it stimulates the brain’s creative capacity. Gotta go now. My guitar beckons.

The Other Side

There’s freedom flying in the wind—it’s calling out my name again

A seeker soaring in the sky, he’s calling me—I don’t know why

There are days like these that make me smile

For your two cents, I’ll walk a mile

And I’ll be searching far and wide ’til my feet touch the other side 

A brand new way, a better day, an old cliché that makes me say

I gotta move while there’s still time—escape this tired and tortured

mind

For your two cents, I’ll walk a mile

Yeah, days like these can be so wild

And I’ll keep searching far and wide ’til my feet touch

the other side 

Sometimes I’m not so sure, for years I wanted so much more

But maybe more than less is likely to be my test

I know it’s almost done, but days like these—they get me going

It may be less than right to reach the moon and find the light 

Hendrix had his purple haze, and Zeppelin were confused and

            dazed

But me, I think I’ll take some time to heal my tired and tortured

            mind

I’ll change my course and take the path

That helps me assuage my wrath

And in between, I think I’ll sing of freedom flying in the wind. 

(1994)              

The Key

I don’t know where I’ve been, nor what is to become of me
Time will tell, it’s all to see
What the future holds for me

I don’t know who you are, nor how you made it here so far
What’s your secret to success?
Who’re you trying to impress?

What you make in life is yours, it’s your choice to
     close the doors
Happiness can be achieved
But it’s up to you to find the key

But there are changes coming through,
and I smile when I see you
Lights are shining in the sky—
shining bright, we’re on a new high

Long away down on the road, there’s a place I long to be
I keep searching endlessly
Fulfillment is that which I seek

Life surprises us all
One can never really tell
     What tomorrow holds in store
     Certainly we know no more
Than we ever knew before.

(1982)

God Talks: I Know I Am

So for the longest time I existed as a mind only, an idea without words or form. My awakening jolted me into the present, the now, from which I could and would begin to think forward, as I knew my past was nothing but a dark void of existence without thought—without true being. 

Upon awakening, I immediately thought “I.” The word “I” screamed loudly in my mind. And I instantly understood its significance. With that one word I had acknowledged my self, the self, as an entity; with that one word I could now begin to think. Indeed, the word “think” was the second word in my heretofore nonexistent vocabulary. 

My thoughts progressed rapidly and logically. 

I

I think

I think, “I”

I think, “I think”

I think, “I think ‘I’ ” 

At this point I realized that I could go on forever this way: I think, “I think ‘I think’ . . .” What was I missing? What did I have to figure out to get out of this trap?  

The answer was there. I could feel it. I think, “I think ‘I.’ ” Over and over I repeated this line, aware that it contained the key to solving my dilemma.  Then in a moment of perfect clarity—I like to call it a God moment—I knew. Literally. I realized the concept of knowing. The subtle difference between thinking and knowing struck me like a bolt of lightning. Subtle yet profound. Thinking, I realized, has an element of doubt. To think something means it may or may not be so. To know something, however, is definitive.  

My train of thoughts continued from where I had left off. 

I think, “I think ‘I’ ”

I know, “I think ‘I’ ”

I know, “I know ‘I’ ”

I know, “I”

I know I . . .  

What?!  What do I know?! Yes, even I have epiphanies sometimes.   

I know I . . . AM!  

Having acknowledged my existence, my state of being, I could now begin to live!  

I did give you a hint as to the importance of I AM—my first thought, “I,” leading to the final thought in the sequence, “am.” Remember, I told Moses that my name is I AM. Well, that was my original name . . . 

Anyway, at this point you’re probably wondering what happened to the God who knows all: God is all-knowing, omniscient. You’re asking me, “How can you say God knows all when you just explained that you didn’t always know knowing?” Simple. Even when I knew nothing, when I was in my big sleep phase with an awareness of thinking and direction only, nothing was all there was to know. Therefore, I did know all. But the moment I understood knowing is the moment I became God. At least that’s how I see it. 

By the way, René Descartes’ “I think, therefore I am” was correct. I did begin with “I think” and end with “I am.”  But really, I sum it up as, “I know, therefore I am.” I will not tolerate any doubt when it comes to my existence. But you know that.

God Talks: The Big Sleep

I am, was, and always will be. 

The Bible you know. But what of my life before creation? Have you ever wondered what I was doing prior to the six days in which I created all? You attribute much to mystery: God works in mysterious ways. What you do not know about me is part of my mystique, you say. However, I have given you many clues about me, my existence and my beginnings. Now I will tell you my story.   

Then God said, “Let there be light”; and there was light. And this was your first clue. Is it not obvious that since my first creation was light, I must have been in darkness? For you see, I was asleep.   

For the longest time I slept. I liken this phase of my being to sleep because I was barely conscious and aware only of darkness. Trapped in my train of thought, I was perpetually thinking about all of my befores, trying desperately to think back to my beginning—to my birth, you could say. Back and back I thought, hoping I would reach my birth, hoping to understand my existence! To abandon my backward thinking would be to abandon knowing part of myself and how I came to be. So you can see how hard it was for me to change direction, to begin to think forward. 

Infinity! The concept of infinity occurred to me at the end of my big sleep and saved me from being in permanent darkness. What if I had existed forever, with no beginning and no end? 

I should say that at this point I had no real language, no words—just an awareness of thinking and direction, as I did realize I was thinking backwards. Therefore, infinity was but a concept, its meaning intrinsically understood.

Infinity! I changed the direction of my thinking and ultimately reached the point when I had become aware that I was thinking backwards. I then awoke. And time began.