Browse Topics

My Favorite Time Of Day

Late afternoon, dawn, 9:15 am

The Witch, The Swan, And The Middle Class

I’m not praising the middle class, but we are returning to the problem of why so many of our poems carry no values except private ones. I think the universities have had a part in this. One could say that the M.F.A. programs de-class a young poet.

The Gabriel Books

Education

“The Gabriel Books” are a series of small cartoon books.

What Is Sex?

The cherry-on-top, some kind of magic glue, the whole world

Quiet Mind

An Interview With Matt Lippa

Each thought, each feeling, each idea, each sense, each desire creates a pattern. Usually, thought is random, desires are random, fears, worries are unchecked. They’re working counter to each other; there’s a lot of confusion. So what manifests in the person’s life is chaos. Well, you can control your mind and determine what will manifest in your life.

A Book Of Games

A Course In Spiritual Play

Your mind can smile. Did you know that? Try it right now and you will see. Amusement without mockery is divine. Laugh softly at yourself. Notice how everyone does the best he can. There is no one undeserving of a gentle pat and the light touch of your love.

Ordinary Mind

An Interview With Allen Ginsberg

It could be said that sympathy is our most powerful tool, because nothing stops it, except disaster, but disaster’s impermanent. Hell is impermanent as well as heaven. Therefore there’s nothing to stop sympathy; even in the middle of deepest illusion you can be aware that something else is possible when you see things as outside of yourself and can bear with them.

Selected Poems

Call Them By Their Names With Passion

“Name and form” the rishis call it. “Function and form,” biologists reply. Parallels accumulate. Coincidence perhaps, but I am forced to wonder. How much power is in a word, and can I make it mine?

Stories

Along the banks of the river Sharaim hang silver bells that dance in the wind. The bells have always been there, and man has always heard their gentle melodies while travelling upon that river. No man knows who fashioned the bells and arranged them along the banks, for the bells existed before man’s curiosity came to be.