The Thought of Time

No Matter How Sick

2011-02-25T00:02:00.001-08:00

The time will never be right

So pretend your clock is broken.

You will never be hungry enough

until you are too hungry.

You will survive

and survive

Wilted as a half-forgotten house-plant

lingering in sickness from sea to shining sea

The air reeks with fear

Mind-wolves latch jaws to nodding necks

Scabs form and break apart

where the lab-monkey is biting its own tormented hand

Seemingly immune, the science goes on, as if the monkey doesn’t matter.

Seemingly immune, the Lexus drives on, as if the protester doesn’t matter.

Sick-time cannot be used for protests- no matter how sick the system gets.

Dunsink

2010-12-21T01:32:00.001-08:00

Tooth long and mange-ridden-

mud creeps up hooves

Pale blood makes the biting tooth look longer

spheres of frozen dew cling to blades of prostrating grass

winter’s fallow table: the landfill’s eggshell-thin top layer

Greets the shallow sun as it does the horses

who beat the ground warm with their coming ghosts

Warm breath condenses in cold air

the shuffling of time rots out thinly nailed shoes

The horses of Ireland are left to wander into death

Thinly nailed shoes scuff down newly cobbled street

Winter rain splashes down and back up onto glass and steel markers

closed, closing, out-of-business, to let, unceremoniously vacant

time, grey cloaked and ribs showing, shuffles on

boom-town Dublin busts its banks, floods the debt of the world

This tribe of horses, abandoned to Dunsink, starves on

- unknowing disk brown eyes dulled and stupid with hunger

This garbaged line of eight and a half pound hearts

These creatures left to die by we creatures left to die will die

and rot, and rot, and rot…

We creatures release ourselves upon the tip to graze upon the world’s castaways

and grind our teeth on thin grasses, thawing out blades through clenched friction.

soiled necessity seeps up, decayed, subsumed pressing of waste

the cold garbage-fed-surface will-less-ly breaks apart and wetly receives

the newly equine dead.

A Holiday Hit @ Amazon.com…

2010-11-29T14:27:00.001-08:00

People of Earth. Get your copy of “Overcome Through Constancy” at amazon.com.

It is only $7.00, and it qualifies for free shipping on orders over $25. So, if you want that hat for $20 and need to spend another $5 to avoid shipping charges, you know what you want.

Seriously, that is like 30 cents a poem.

Follow your water will.

Buy it Here

A Season of Silence (A tribute to Dave Niehaus)

2010-11-11T23:20:00.001-08:00

Turn the TV off, Niehaus has moved to the radio.

Somewhere, in the dust of my possessions, is a box

There, my scorecards are kept- hundreds of Mariners games in numbers and lines-

The seasons of my life can be seen in the pencil marks.

They are proof to the memories he gave me

as I penciled along at home.

The season of Niehaus is over:

Yet, the boxes of scorecards in all the closets, in all the minds, in all Seattle-

those are his.

Through a friendship formed with so many he never met, those are his.

Long drives home, home,

to the sounds of Dave’s telling

that epic poem of innings.

They are over. He is home.

As any good poet knows, he knew,

there was something more in the telling.

Dim the lights, turn down the volume, spark the radio off

Let us usher in this season of silence, this long fallow winter, with a death.

Let us listen as the silence rises like mist from the empty grass.

Then, in Spring, when we are ready- let us gather and yell out together, for Dave

“My oh My!”

Healing Work

2010-11-08T23:53:00.001-08:00

Working across the many abstractions between us, I try again for an ounce of real communication. I try again to hear and be heard. It is hard work. It is exhausting- I lose myself in and to it.

I find myself despite and because of it- talking. Then hearing. Then witnessing.

For now, we are talking about thinking about feeling about something… about something… I ask again.

Then I falter, and resort to teaching.

about a diagnosis, about a pattern, about us all, then

I fail and fear a waste of time.

Think, I think, about asking about a question that was asked about a question I had about a thing that happened, or could happen, or might happen, or hasn’t yet but should/might/will happen.

We are discussing discussion itself, and the nature of talking about that discussion. All of this with ghosts and others who are not in the room, with systems and cultures and histories neither of us understand yet both of us speak from and to.

It is the vertigo of twisting spiral yellow-stone church tower stairways.

I hold fast.

It is the falling,

failing,

filtering, perspectives of intricate lenses-

I hold fast.

shifting, clutch-less, in and out of some optical trickery machine.

I hold fast to the battered and windswept vessel of our time together. Send my mind to the depth of all imagined existence. I calm the raging confusion of my mind and ask, and ask, and ask again, again to be able to hear.
My question is not for the other- it is for the space between us. It is for the inarticulate Truth to hold its forked tongue while I work to heal a wound I cannot see, yet I can hear it- i can feel it- loud and distant as a single archer’s arrow falling on an English shield at Hastings.

Distance- and distances- are at once conquered and confirmed.

Open

2010-11-02T00:20:00.001-07:00

There is no emptiness, not even in (the) space (between atomic nuclei and valence shells of electrons).

abstractions of sameness

mythical parts and wholes

a net spinning in a child’s hand

make daily life possible

wet legs, rolled jeans, head down

paper lanterns, wicks within burning the “emptiness” to show the fault

fish fly through and in the emptiness of lake water

river’s current is a moment is momentum is illustrated in glowing dots

plastic handle, nylon weave, total focus on the task

the flames draw up the fullness of the planetary blanket

Closed, internal world, supposing circle, borders real and imagined

Hands and arms force through empty air the net through fish-full waters.

The box has been opened. There is no longer room for it to be closed.

Caught. At least an inch long, the boy has pride in gleaning something from the nothing of the net.

Now Available: Overcome Through Constancy

2010-10-11T20:04:00.001-07:00

At long last a collection of poems by D.H. Shultis has been made available to the general public. The first market-ready version of some serious brain bending stuff.

In celebration of this occasion- I’ve posted a preview from a novel that started out life (in my head) as an epic-sci-fi-poem. This is one of the poem parts. The novel is so close to being done I can taste it in my teeth.

Oh yeah- and I put my other novel on sale- save 10% on your new and revised copy of American Scum. It is like a D.H. Shultis holiday- only it is another kind of holiday- the kind that should be questioned.

A Celebration of Domination

2010-10-11T20:00:00.001-07:00

light pours out of the universe.

star systems covered in red and black

boot heels and blood

faster, easier, less thinking, bigger explosions,

live longer, be healthier, let the machine work for you. See how easy it is, how much more time you will have, see the big picture,

we will have this planet with human life on it or without.

You need not be harmed. You will see the benefits of mechanizing and regulating this process.

Yet it is you who will be mechanized (dehumanized).

You will drown in blood- it doesn’t matter if it is your blood,

your enemy’s blood,

or your friend’s blood. Blood is blood.

Forget Adult- Be Interesting (Part II)

2010-08-20T19:35:00.001-07:00

(part one is below)

Robin Marantz Henig’s recent NYTimes article just keeps on giving- me a headache. It is really troubling me.

She writes:

If society decides to protect these young people or treat them differently from fully grown adults, how can we do this without becoming all the things that grown children resist — controlling, moralizing, paternalistic?

Umm- from this perspective you will inevitably be controlling, moralizing, and paternalistic- to just about everyone.

I am going to work this sentence out!

“Society deciding to protect these young people…” Who, in this sentence, is society? Obviously, it does not include ‘these young people’ who may or may not need protecting. Instead, it is (presumably) adults- whatever that means. It is probably not elders (because they might just need protecting too). Nope, I am pretty sure society here means “fully grown adults” as in people at the middle of the bell-curve of the life span.

Society is then made up for- and of- fully grown adults. They are the only real people. In fact, when we say person in this way, we mean a person like us- everyone else is not quite a “full” person. So,this article and this new sub-unit of adulthood has a dangerous and subtle side-effect- it redefines who is considered fully human to our society- effectively cutting out those who can now be considered partially grown adults. It is certainly an oppressive perspective to take- people like us are ok- everyone else may need our looking after- they need us to “treat them differently”. Differently from whom, from what- shouldn’t we treat everyone with care and attention to just who in the world they are? Or, should we “treat everyone the same”- after all everyone should be the same (normal- like us).

Welcome again to the normality trap. Adults, as we real adults define it, are normal- anyone in any other group (a child, an adolescent, an elder) is different. It is a really easy trap to fall into- especially when you are the one being considered normal.

Consider this tree:

Is this tree sick? Is it normal? Is it an adult tree?

Well, consider it (or other similar trees) in context:

If this first tree had grown and continued to try to grow branches all the way down its trunk, and not just at its tip- it would have wasted a ton of energy and probably died. The thing that makes this tree look odd is that people have cut down all the trees around it- they have shifted its context. This same mistake would have us comparing one group of 20 somethings to another group of 20 somethings. A 25 year old today had become and is 25 in this particular moment, in a particular culture, with a particular set of experiences. Comparing that 25 year old to a 1965 25 year old is shifting the context- cutting down the trees.

“How can we do this” I think I’ve covered who is included in this mysterious we. This referring to protect or treat differently. “Without becoming all the things that grown children resist?” There is no becoming- you are, unfortunately, already there. We humans naturally resist other people’s sense of what we should be doing- and we do so for some damn fine reasons. The most important reason we ignore, resent, or even despise other people’s attempts to control or judge us is because we know they do not really know us and our circumstances- no matter how well they know us. If we did not tend towards this kind of individuality we would still live in caves and not dare paint anything but the animals we hunt. “Grown children,” really? Is that what otherwise adult people are who don’t own a house, or have never been married? We are all children- forever. We all have parents, so we are all children. Stealing the mantle of adulthood and calling everyone else grown children is a pretty exclusive thing to do. It is also imbued with the venom of judgment- that adult is what a grown child should be- but these ones aren’t quite there. Thus, you have indicated that you can be nothing but, by virtue of the limits of your perspective, “controlling, moralizing, and paternalistic.”

Next sentence:

Failing to protect and support vulnerable young people can lead them down the wrong path at a critical moment, the one that can determine all subsequent paths.

Whoa. Hold on there. Life is an ongoing and ever shifting set of experiences. The end point of human development is death. Each and all of us, no matter our current age, are at a developmental moment that can determine all subsequent paths. Every moment is critical- so no moments are critical. Every snowflake is unique so they are the same in their uniqueness.

You say, what we do now determines what we will be in the future. Perhaps causality is different even from this. Perhaps where and what we will and need to be at our death determines what we were and are in our life prior to death. Because each moment determines and effects each other moment, there are not really moments and paths that “can determine all subsequent paths,” are there? Is the universe so limited as to be tied to our linear post-hoc ergo propter hoc concept of time? Both senses of causality (traditional and reverse) are limited- so perhaps causality is a useless perspective when it comes to a human life. (I have a short essay on Sartre’s life that details this idea…if you are interested let me know and I’ll post it)

Win or lose- for the rest of your life- depending on what you do right now- I mean it right now! This Vegas-style sense of causality, of permanency, is really messed up- and to me is the cause of much of life’s needless stress and anxiety.

I think the underlying limitation to this perspective that it considers human development as a process from birth to adulthood- with adulthood being one large vegetative mass. That is a terribly depressing myth. What a nightmare it would be to think of our lives as peaking at adulthood (whenever it occurs) and then coasting from there until death.

Ask an elder how their life has changed from 30 to 70. Or from 50 to 80. Ask, and then really listen. Is a 6 year old more of a child then a 15 year old- or less? What is childhood? Does it ever really end? Do we not carry our 6 year old self and our experiences of being 6 with us all the way through till death? Sharing, taking turns, patience, these are lessons of childhood- and are lessons of adulthood. The lessons of life are ongoing and the experiences of life are ever-useful.

We are constantly being and become our selves. There is no attainment, no moment of glory to be and have it all. There are glimpses of who we are, moments of clarity, of peak performance, of transcendence; and there are moments of toil, of hard work, of maintenance. We get better at things, our perspectives shift, our focus changes, our skills change, our relationship to the universe alters itself. Development, like real happiness, is not akin to a football- it is not something we can have and hold and put into our backpacks. It is something that just happens, in moments. We ebb and flow, in, through, and around our unique course and pathways; and all of this according to our unique circumstances. We develop into, out of, and back into our truest selves daily, momentarily, yearly, and above all throughout a lifetime- and in however much time has been and will be granted to us to take air and live.

Forget Adulthood- Be Interesting (Part I)

2010-08-20T15:50:00.001-07:00

“Keniston called it youth, Arnett calls it emerging adulthood; whatever it’s called, the delayed transition has been observed for years.” If it has been observed for years, maybe “delayed” isn’t the right word at all.

This sentence is evidence of a troubling perspective at play in Robin Marantz Henig’s article, “What is it About 20 Somethings?” The entire article can be found here: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/08/22/magazine/22Adulthood-t.html?pagewanted=1&_r=1.

Delayed compared to what? This article is built on the supposition that there is a correct or normal cycle of human development- and further that this normal cycle is the same across cultures and time.

Even our physical development is heavily influenced by environmental factors- the average age of the onset of puberty in the US has been dropping for at least the last century. I invite you to do some brief research on the ages of menarche and menopause across time and cultures. If you do, you will see that these physical developmental moments differ greatly according to environmental factors. The most obvious (and measurable) factor is diet. Other, more abstract factors, are probably also at play- cultural pressures, medical technology, life stressors, etc.

Physical development is the simplest kind of development to track- because it is easily observable and measurable. If this most basic and concrete kind of development is subject to environmental factors then it makes sense that other, more abstract, kinds of development are also subject to environmental factors. This article misses the boat entirely when it comes to the social realities that have highlighted and perhaps caused the social realities it discusses.

Consider the following realities of US culture as you consider why people aged 20-29 may not achieve the traditional behavioral and social trappings of adulthood.

The average cost of a home in the US is around 1050% (yes, one thousand and fifty percent!) higher now than it was in 1970. (Since 1967 the Median Household income has increased by 31%)
- So, taking this into account, homes are only 1019% more expensive! Buying a home is a much different proposition for a contemporary 20 something than it was for a 1970 20 something.
A large number of Baby Boomers are choosing not to retire.
- This is creating a massive clog at the top the career ladder. No one can move up to replace the numerous boomers, and so there are fewer openings on the ground level.
Unpaid internships. This is a cultural phenomenon that should have gone out of style with indentured servitude. It pretty much did- for a while. This terrible work arrangement has come back in vogue- and is all but required for many professions
- Thus, those entering the labor market don’t always get paid. Not getting paid for your work changes what you can afford to do and consider.
Many contemporary cultures would think it silly, selfish, and wasteful to expect a young person to buy their own house.
- So, maybe it is as much a cultural reaction to our (in the US) shifting ecological perspectives as it has anything to do with the economy. Waste is waste.
Shifting educational expectations. A B.A. is the the new High School Diploma, an M.A. is the new B.A. and a PhD is required to be considered ‘very educated’.
- Especially in the US, all that education costs money. Starting off adulthood with $40K of debt is likely to change your feelings about striking out on your own.

It makes much more sense to look at the phenomena this article points out as symptoms of cultural changes- as symbols and signs of the nature of contemporary existence. It is only when one takes a absolutist’s perspective that these patterns are evidence of a “delay” or an “abnormality”.

Human behavior is not controlled by some overarching set of rules, programming, and/or patterns. It is much more set by the dictates of one’s contemporary cultural reality than it is by any function of biology. Who was thought of as an adult in 18^th Century Paris is very different from 18^th Century Tokyo, and each are different from 21^st Century New York. These differences do not mark abnormalities in human development. They mark differing definitions, expectations, and abilities that were associated with adulthood in those places and times. Development is a cultural phenomenon.

How would a human develop outside of culture, outside of human contact? They would die in infancy-(consider the infamous, though perhaps apocryphal, ‘Russian Baby Experiments’). Or, if they did not die, the result would be a human life-form that had developed physically but not socially (as in a feral-human). It is more correct to consider such a human as having developed according to their needs and experiences- rather than having developed abnormally.

Most of the things the article discusses are behavioral and physical realities. It does not adequately take into account psychological/spiritual/ethical/epistemological and/or social growth. This is the really terrible mistake this article makes. Is human life all about getting married, having kids, and buying a house? Are we really nothing more than consumers of the American Dream? Surely, adulthood is a perspective- a cognitive pattern- as much as it is a set of behaviors.

Consider the tried and tested Heinz dilemma- the one where the guy can’t legally acquire lifesaving medicine for his wife. The medicine exists- and it works- it is just that he can’t get hold of it any way except stealing it. Should he steal it?

A 5 year old and a 75 year old could both answer “yes, he should steal it”. So, this 5 year old and 75 year old would (presumably) behave the same way- they would steal the drug. Of course, they would (or could) have very different reasons for stealing the drug. Such differences are important- these differences are how we discern between a mature point of view and an immature point of view. Abstract ethical reasoning is available to you whether or not you live with your parents.

I would argue these abstract kinds of development (ethical, social, spiritual, inter-personal, emotive) are much more reliable measurements of adulthood- opposed to whether or not you reside in the same structure as your parents, have physically produced a child, or have attained a “career” type job. Such a limited and normative perspective is rooted in classism, racism, sexism, and every other ism. The perspective is based on what a “white, hetero, Christian, middle-class, biological male” would do- this is the mythical “norm”. It is the actual norm most Psych research is/was based on as well (ask Carol Gilligan). Although we are getting better at including “different” people- we still tend to do it with an eye to this stale norm. It is not the norm that is at fault- it is the perspective that there is a norm.

So, are we only our behaviors, our bank balance, our credit history and the content of our CV? Are we each and all supposed to be like a 1950’s middleclass white man? Do we have to compare ourselves to each other, and everyone to some nebulous norm? What is it about 20 somethings? You ask. I ask, what is it about people who want everyone to be normal?

Forget adulthood- be interesting.

Metric Time

2010-07-26T14:47:00.001-07:00

So, I’m writing this science fiction novel ... I’m sure someone else has done this before, but I made this chart for my own perspective.

I don’t want to convert to this calendar or anything- I have a hard enough time with metric measurements of physical space.

I just thought if human culture spread across several planets and no one lived on Earth, chances are a new way of tracking time would develop for the sake of inter-planetary communication, trade, and travel.

After all, if a day wasn’t the measurement of the rotational speed of the planet you inhabited..why would it matter what it measured? Why not go base 10?

2010-06-13T17:17:00.000-07:00

The Anarchist’s Letter:

2010-06-10T14:33:00.001-07:00

Attention all Governments and Peoples of the World,

I hereby declare my independence from any and all nations. I live only under my own dominion. I peacefully and totally secede from the world of organized government. I disregard the notion of tacit agreement and do not believe that any geographical boundaries apply to my person. Though I do not believe we truly possess anything, to that which I have added work I have gained dominion. That which I have dominion over should be considered an extension of my self.

Effectively, that which I own is to be considered as, though not limited to, my physical person. My firm belief that no person has the power to hold dominion over any other prevents me from being a member of your, or any, State. Because I do not believe in your collective or individual dominion over me, or my property, there is no need for this document save its use as a declaration. I do not write to receive your approval or recognition. I make no threats, as I have neither wish to harm nor for myself to be harmed.

I am one of a number of individuals who have gathered together to live in absolute freedom. The land that we dwell on has no strategic value, and provides only enough for us to subsist on. We have nothing of any use or threat to you, your families, or your country as an entity.

We do not declare ourselves a new nation, but individuals with no need of citizenship.

We declare and claim the following truth as dependant only on our existence, and as a right, absolute and irrevocable: All people are born and remain throughout their life in absolute freedom, having total dominion over their person; said dominion shall not be infringed upon without the free consent of the infringed.

There is no authority over ourselves save ourselves.

We the undersigned declare ourselves, as individuals, absolutely autonomous:

No Privacy

2010-05-26T00:11:00.001-07:00

I build my life in the rain- in the wooden houses- in the dampened wild woods

in cement linear patterns marked by tri-flashing lamps

life in open places-breathable

I build it in Social Security Offices I've never been to

In Departments

holding paper and numbers attached

to the letters and fact-making of my birth.

fact-making of crimes, achievements, remarks and unions.

I close the numbers off and call it privacy

I upload a thought-attached to that name and those numbers- and I fear

some spirit-like connection will make its electro-snaky way to the life of rain and wooden houses

Why do I fear as the electrical wild melds with the dampened wild?

Why do I fear as a digital representation of me is transmitted and retransmitted-

do I fear my description as recalled by a passerby –as she translates her memory of me to her friend?

do I really own the digital carvings of the reflections of light from my body?

I am more the other side of the cage.

I am no privacy.

I exist! Here I am! See me! Hear Me! Feel ME!

I do not fear your knowledge of me- I embrace it. I exist for it. We exist for each other.

Share more. Fear less.

Heretical Zombie Time- (Happy Halloween)

2009-10-31T22:42:00.001-07:00

"It ain't even raining," Jack said.

All three of men present recognized that the sound which had just occurred was nothing like thunder whatsoever. Yet all three of them agreed to call it that, for now.

The three men stepped out of the workshop. Carl, Jack and Mike stood aghast in their matching blue overalls with names embroidered.

Careful rows and columns

suburban cemetery

now disturbed.

But neither by mourners, nor by vandals has its peace disrupted.

Ashen smoldering earth and exposed caskets piled up at random intervals; as if placed by drunken gods, or angry lice.

Breathless, frozen in wonder, the three men watched as coffin lids fell to the ground.

A popping like freshly opened jam sounded as some of the better quality coffins were opened.

None of this in unison, more like twisting an ice cube tray.

Carl pointed to a woman draped in white cloth, she stepped out from a coffin and ran her fingers through her long dark curls and stretched as if waking, as if preening for a lover.

Neither Mike nor Jack noticed Carl's pointing.

There were plenty of corpses to look at.

Within a few moments the graveyard was full of life, as each and every risen coffin had opened and each of them had a single figure, clad in white, standing next to it.

Shallow, empty, and reflective white- the color of that guile called purity.

Pallid and doubtful fear bound the yet to have died and been reborn, bound them to open eyes, unmoving feet, and voiceless mouths.

Mike dropped his coffee mug and didn't notice.

Carl held fast to his clipboard, his knuckles turned white from the pressure.

The workshop sat atop a hill, all the graves were set before them, and now this ghastly scene.

The bleached and unstained whiteness in their robes caught the morning sun and they shone bright as little lamps.

Terrible whiteness, horrid pale and looming frenzy, corrupted thoughts of piety and perfection draped their rotting limbs.

The wind stood still

they stood silently still,

their perfected pale faces upturned and waiting. There is no doubt to be had, no more proof then their faces, upturned and waiting.

These were the living-dead, the resurrected.

The risen dead move in silence, all in the same direction. From across the globe the risen are moving toward one spot, lines are drawn with satellites, the paths intersect in the Mediterranean Ocean. They walk atop the water. They stand leaving three circles. The center is the largest open space, and all of the risen face it. The others are in line with each other but not with the central and largest circle. Three days pass and not one of them moves or makes a sound.

Three days had passed when the tide and waves subsided. Three days and the skies cleared to empty azure. On the evening of the third day just as the sun sets down into the Atlantic a violent and rushing tunnel of light descends to each of the smaller circles. A single figure in robes of blue and white descends to the central circle. Hands outstretched the figure is a man. His olive skin shows only in his hands, feet and face. The risen dead move nearly in unison, each to their knees , each spread open their hands and arms. They are so tightly packed arms interlock and overlap, palms upturned they make no noises. The shafts of light dissipate and 6 men 6 women float above the gathered risen dead.

Trumpets sound the marching of the dead-one's army. Trumpets and the heads of dragons roar. His bloodied feet, his wounded side, his silent ardor.

His saintly, golden, white and zealous army now a zombie hoard, with king and crown descended.

His offer of eternal life affected, his sinless crown of death's disciples, his open mouth, the sound of water spreads apart the world. It is Zombie time my friends, they call it Armageddon.

Autumnal Dirge

2009-10-31T22:15:00.001-07:00

haven't done a sad one in a while

haven't tongued the rotting bleeding ulcer in my mouth

haven't seen autumn's phlegmy gaze, or held her rain slicked leaves in hand

while together we sink and rot to muted orange-brown mush.

yet autumn is here. So sing me a dirge.

sing of the trembling leaves sloughed off like costume jewelry-

adornments mere and haughty pasted on for summer's party.

now to mud and cooling earth departed- feeding roots where life's departed.

hum the sound of rotting salmon- spawned that once 'fore death's long famine.

paint the changing colors of bloated fish carcasses,

rising puddles,

darken the edges of hand-like branches -exposing arthritic taughtness in their creaking

Plants are forcing life to root- and within. Dropping waste so as to live.

Animals, we, and in our opposites, are hoarding,

piling up the wasted things,

and waiting, pacing, finding woolen hats ,

lacing boots, piling wood and filling gourds

wide-eyed we prepare for, wait for, and hope to not be offered a seat at winter's fallow table.

Counting Zeroes Sold Out

2009-10-22T16:33:00.000-07:00

I am making more copies of my little book of poems. The first batch has sold out. The next batch will be available through Orca Books or through me personally.

To all those who bought a copy, thanks for your support. You've paid for the second batch.

More poems coming this month. I promise.

What then of the uniqueness of my soul?

2009-09-21T23:40:00.001-07:00

Conversation gets rubbery… non-committal

judgmentally an index finger slides across wire rimmed glasses,

I feel myself a slick of red against the inner curve of a hand warmed wine glass … mere smeary remnant

he's talking about parallel universes

existences where we took down the orange instead of the fateful apple

, or so he says.

I tell him he's talking about the uniqueness of our souls

and I can't quite tell if he agrees:

either (with my statement),

that he is indeed talking about what I say he is talking about;

or (with my assertion),

that he has described a system in which we share (and therefore cannot have) a unique eternal self;

or,

he's describing the plot of The One (with Jet Li);

or even,

that he took the road less traveled by- and so what? it didn't make any difference.

9/9/9

2009-09-09T12:57:00.001-07:00

Nonsense and numerology

the perfect prize of nine zeroes of zeroes 27 outs and 27 batters

nine players, nine innings, 3 bases times 3 outs.

9/9/9 – day 252 of the year 9 (2+5+2=

Attraction is a function of

symmetry- meaningful meaninglessness

appearance of pattern, illusion of form, disruption of fluid totality

when, by taking away a single grain- a heap of sand becomes a grain of sand

neither the sand nor the heap have changed,

and yet they have.

the sand is still sand

the heap still was and always was- yet is now dispearsed

there is no digital – countable- knowable shift from thing to thing.

change is happening and happens

digits align and mindful patterns cease to occur and occur.

the ball is thrown and gets halfway there- and halfway again.

is to be thrown and missed or hit.

Life has happened and is happening

a specific fluid unknowable way

until you've danced it you can't know the dance.

Yet there is a difference somewhere between not knowing and not dancing.

Furious Jailor

2009-09-09T12:47:00.001-07:00

Derided, forgotten, furious jailor

pinwheeling keys un-cribbed mobile

sleepers free and many gather

field, wet grass,

cold mist, adjective noun

we are a gathered army with neither uniform(s(ity)) nor opposition

save each other

I turn the blade over in my hand

out of the sheath (it came that way

(I/thou/thee/thine shall fall upon it that way

turning to another: save each other (that way

or turning on them: save each other ) that way

just standing around

youtube clips replay the first hug-like stabbing

grainy–distant-conspiracy quality- in the nude

wakeful dreamers scream themselves to sleep

reminding connections to connect,

reminding us we are not apart.

cold war = standing around looking murderous

hot war = pretty much the same only the blood goes on the outside

Counting Zeroes

2009-08-26T13:39:00.000-07:00

Available now exclusively at Orca Books in Olympia, "Counting Zeroes" by d.h. shultis. This collection of around 30 poems spans 6 years of writing. The collection retails for just $5. Each book has been hand bound and signed by me.

It would be great if you bought a copy. It would be even better if you let me know what you think about the work.

D.

Between Waveform and Regret

2009-08-23T23:18:00.001-07:00

Between Waveform and Regret

Ramblings from some love-torn heart,
a fellow resident seeking recompense, waveforms vibrate and transfer through my ears,
his clichés mount and form scale model promises, cities wide and ankle deep
momentum, praise, self-incrimination, all a pale storm hastening his returning.

books stacked on end decry a fortress of thoughts unusable
techno-trick, he speaks to us all, sense boundaries surmounted, yet
disconnection remains a feat unmovable. thought-lines
leapt by circuits, penetrated air, Tesla’s clever discovery dissected into cells.

An ear on the other end of his call, an existence and gender I assume
projecting onto him that which is in me (he, below my window, may merely speak to move the air)

she (in my imaginings) has the key to times returning, relational mending
his words are garbles to me though sounds of languages I know
his tone -in known, familiar, patterns- speaks libraries for me,
but not to me- tuned in and only close enough for static

my mind speaks this same voice to me, filling dreams and waking hours
tilling memory for a stone of error
tumbling the rough and bleeding stone to brilliant sheen
a glinting hateful opulence – remorse— a remnant of lucidity
a carcinogenic luxury of experience,

I sing time’s mutations into trials nightly
terrors and inquisitions (I as witness, judge, prosecution, and accused am cast)
I plead for chances:
even if only imagined self can dance, I dance
the phantasmal curiosity of ghost-runners and second chances.

The real and trying voice from below winces and pleads with more vibrato, (a singing tear or words?)
my ears this tone do know though these lips are sealed by pride to such hopeless words
my voice will never utter the true and dreaming wishes
for my voice is a product of a watery will
and my dreams a product of a power yet unknown, too powerful to yet invoke.

A Function of Time

2009-08-12T11:20:00.001-07:00

Time washes us clean

to nothing.

Biology, meet chemistry and sub-atomic physics

…at a sordid bus stop in the near future.

Halos and horns fall into dust and ashes.

The ideas of halos and horns fell into dust and ashes.

Souls collect weak charges,

repel

attract each other,

widening the cosmic void.

Minor injuries heal and have happened.

have always happened and continue to not be so bad.

Reborn you rise and are doing exactly as you have always done.

Reborn.

What is reborn to the already dead and born?

What is a halo to a suffering mass of poorly organized biology?

A function functionally functioning within a functional system of functioning functions.

Reset the dominos, Chuck I dare you.

Make them rise again to fall again

forever, like the Sisyphus freak you admire.

A certain chaos floats to the surface of a cup of coffee in the form of misled cream.

You dance like Bruce Lee and fight like Elvis.

You die like Elvis and are reborn like Bruce Lee.

as a terror, an atomic dragon bellowing in deep space.

The loom restarts itself every thirty million turns.

The sun storms out into the space once occupied by a little blue planet.

For a universal moment we are one with the Manatees inside an atomic radiation storm.

NASA would paint it a thousand shades of green and post its picture on their site…if

every atom on earth wasn't converted back into its previous composition and structure.

Standing too close to the microwave never sounded so fun.

If, what a meaningless word...

if.

I prefer function.

Moment of Experience (the)

2009-07-31T12:13:00.001-07:00

Broadening out into days of years

Acres of thoughts plowed under

Are you remembering to rotate your crops?

Think thoughts thought again

Tidal waters

estuary silt

fish poop/fertilizer

cool river water meets

nuclear cooling tower water

slicked skin bath water warm- maybe now I'll have superpowers

fresh water Columbia meets

salt water Pacific

force personified- reminder of geology's whims

14 miles of tumult

NMLBS (National Motor Lifeboat School) Coastguard training ground

for the worst possible conditions

"Graveyard of the Pacific"

My mouth produces similar results (I hope)

Eternity is momentary

entropy personified

Perspectives changed daily.

..and to the Republic for it is falling.

2009-07-24T00:40:00.001-07:00

Capitalism is incompatible with democracy. A strictly hierarchical monetary system, such as capitalism, subverts the egalitarian underpinnings that a true democracy needs to survive. I will take a little more time to elaborate on my views here; but first a little history lesson.

The government of the United States has never been truly democratic.

The United States form a republic. There is a difference, and it is a major one- and it has nothing to do with the two most popular political parties. A democracy is a place where the people actually write and vote on the laws; a republic is a place where people elect other people to do the voting/law-writing/governing for them.

I have nothing against a republic, per-se, after all who would want to live in a country where everyone was in politics? Seriously though, think of the logistics. You think congress is slow? Try writing a law 169 million people will vote on.

Thus, the United States has an in-built division between the people and their governance (the government).

Why does government matter to you when its officials act on behalf of those with the most financial influence? Why does government matter when your boss makes more prescient decisions than a politician ever will? Why does government matter when it is the bank that owns your house, controls your income, dictates your mobility?

Why do governments matter when capital rules the world?

Governments matter because they can regulate the flow of wealth, they can insure fair treatment at work, they can insure there are no barriers between its people and the necessities to life, and governments can protect the rights and liberties of the people.

Surely, the Constitution of the United States sets forth a free-market capitalist system, right. You know, the much touted free-market. The glorious and necessary free-market. Well the 3^rd paragraph of Section 8 stipulates that Congress has the power to regulate commerce among the states. It says so expressly, almost exactly. Read it. The power to regulate commerce with foreign nations and among the states.

The Constitution doesn't just list powers for fun, you know, things that Congress might want to get to if they have time. The Constitution doesn't grant Congress the power to call old friends, wear sunscreen, go to the gym, or to visit their moms more often.

Congress has the duty to regulate commerce among the states. Let me boil this down for you: in a republic the people elect the congress; and in our republic the congress regulates the commerce. It kind of sounds like we live a socialist country. That is, a country where society rules over not just its government but its economy as well. Pretty scary, but democracy is. It is set up like that because it is necessary for the people to protect themselves against pirates, profiteers, and scoundrels. Only laws can do that.

Take healthcare. A government run health care system can still make a lot of people rich, they would just have to work for it. You see, for profit companies make profit for investors (people who are already rich enough to sit back and siphon wealth from the system). If you are a nurse, a doctor, a manager, a janitor, or a director of a major health center you should get paid for your work, and will. If you just want to sit in your helicopter buying and selling stock via satellite then pick something else to invest in; pick something fun like a toy company or amusement parks. Force that toy company you control to raise its prices on the latest doll, and leave chemotherapy prices alone. Picturing a do-nothing-wealthy-investor-guy with a lapdog in one hand and a Blackberry in the other making $100,000 off my uncle's heart transplant doesn't seem quite right to me. The hospital staff that arranges and performs the surgery making $100,000 for doing their job well seems like a natural consequence. This is regulated commerce. This is America. This is Democracy.

Universal healthcare now. Egalitarianism now.

Chariots and Vengence

2009-07-09T13:42:00.000-07:00

No, excuse me, I think I know a real warning when I smell one.

He came as Patroclus dressed up like Achilles
in godly golden armor, and just died.
shrieking mad, sucking at air,
happy to get all deaded up for someone he loved.
Achilles, being mostly invulnerable, didn’t need protection, he was at home crying for his mamma, shouting profanities at Agamemnon.
He and his tent stank
like that chemical added into natural gas.
Petulantly refusing to play hero anymore,
he took his ball and walked off.
Hearing his bonnet ring (with Patroclus' head inside) the fight came back to him.

Zeus and I know pal, we know, we were trying to defuse the situation
when that mousegod came in, throwing his virulent iodine godvenom like voices
at the sun bleached walls and mortals. What’s a few more dead Trojans to us pal?
Achilles was not to be harmed,

Apollo, you dick,

this situation is a little more complicated than you seem to think.
you were supposed to be more like the sound of a clock-tower’s sniper’s rifle
coming in only after any brains and casings into death and dirt depart. got it?
Alone, Toy-Boy couldn’t have hit the Wooden Horse with that arrow. Apollo, you dick.

Medicine Free-for-All

2009-07-08T23:16:00.001-07:00

So here is my modest proposal: do away with insurance companies altogether and force everyone to pay in cash out of pocket before they get treated. No credit, no IOUs, no money = no treatment. That way those who can't pay don't clog the system, they just die. The humane thing to do would be to offer inexpensive euthanasia for those without money; but no subsidies, no charities, if you can't even afford to be medically euthanized, you probably deserve to die on your own anyways.

Now, you might be asking about people who show up to the ER unconscious, without ID or their wallets. What if they can afford treatment but can't complete the transaction? No worries. It is a sticky situation, and one that requires us to show forethought. Thankfully, we have the technology to monitor just how much each of us is worth at any given second. The best way to handle this would be to graft microchips into everyone's skull- the microchip would be like an ATM/Debit card and a link to all your financial data. It would need to be grafted into the skull because otherwise those who could pay may be mistaken for someone who could not. Think about it, what if you lost your torso (and wallet) in some freak yachting accident, and then arrived at the hospital only to be denied treatment you could easily afford? Hospitals and ambulance drivers could scan each unconscious patient to see which ones had money and which ones did not. Hell, why bother with sending the ambulance, I am sure a scanner could be built into the 911 system. To prevent wasters from dialing 911 when they know they can't afford treatment we could institute criminal proceedings against those who seek healthcare knowing they cannot afford it.

Children's microchips could be linked to their parent's accounts, if their parents wanted to pay. Some parents may have to make the difficult decision that it just might be cheaper to let this one die, you can always have more. Unless stipulated in a living will, any funds or property associated with the individual would be considered available to pay for treatment. Healthcare providers would know even prior to diagnosis who was going to be treated and was not. Because it would cut down on lengthy and possibly damaging procedures, this system would also make it much easier for the sickest among the wealthy to benefit from healthier transplant organs.

Obviously, we would need to make sure that no one helped anyone out. That is, only first-degree relatives can pay for each other's healthcare. Accounts could only include husbands, wives, and their children. It may take some fineries of law to deal with blended families, but the lawyers among us are a clever bunch and I am confident they could figure something equitable out. Each account would have to be linked to families, and once you are 18 your account must be separated from your parents. Rich families, do not worry. Your soon to emancipate sons and daughters would just need to be given their trust-fund at 18. If we did not have this rule, poor people and misguided philanthropists might band together and make a shared "healthcare account" in a way to game the system. These shared accounts would be susceptible to widespread humanitarian efforts to subvert our healthcare system. Sure, it may seem helpful to share the wealth with your neighbors, but these schemes would be magnets for malingerers and con-artists. In the end paying for healthcare for the poor just encourages them to stay poor. A country of philanthropists is actually a country of co-dependents. Besides, we all know that if you can't afford to live independently you can't afford to live at all.

These accounts wouldn't need to be specialized medical accounts, the chips would give the medical professional access to all your financial details- and the right to transfer ownership of any property, stocks, or bonds you may have that are needed to cover your procedures. The elderly and the chronically ill could decide to shelter some of their estates from healthcare costs, thus ensuring that their children are left with their rightful inheritance. Again, in some of these cases people may choose to die without treatment, saving their family from the economic blight of treatment costs.

Now, I am not proposing anyone eat their babies, after all think of how much safely having one would cost. But this proposal may lead to other great social benefits. The poor would have less children who lived because parents who could not afford the delivery would be turned away. Eventually, this would lead to clever companies offering cheap sterilization procedures for men and women who did not want to risk childbirth outside of the hospital they know they could never afford. Thus, it would reduce children born into poor families. Which in turn would increase the happiness on earth; we all know how happy rich people are, and how the poor are constantly miserable. The fear of dying in childbirth would also work well as a deterrent for sex out of wedlock. After all, paternity can't be easily established until after the baby is born, and unless he is your husband (or the established father) he can't help pay for the delivery.

There can be little doubt that this system would also lead to lower overall costs, a significant reduction in wait-times, more patient responsibility, and encourage healthy economic competition among providers (competition as we know is the driving force of a healthy economy).

The transition would be long and painful as providers would need to figure out just how much they've been charging all this time. People would also have to be given some time to arrange their finances so that no unwanted connections existed (imagine if the ex-husband was still on the deed to the home, or on the title to the car!). This transition would put us ahead of the rest of the world, especially those who have succumbed to the pandering of the needy and the poor- erecting monumental socialized healthcare systems that allow everyone equal access to treatment, regardless of ability to pay. What next? What next? Would we give out police coverage for free, education, fire protection, water, air?!

(re)Writing History Books

2009-07-08T21:52:00.000-07:00

Terrorist + bad press = failed Revolutionary?

‘It’s a real cowboy operation,’ -Krushchev decided,
15 Jupiter class- intermediate range
protecting Cuba from US invasion
DefCon 3- halfway up the scale
the insurrection can create the conditions needed
lithium enriched to 40% lithium6
The fundamentals are rapidity of attack,
they didn’t really know what to expect
surprise, well managed sabotage,
Bravo exploded
“there was this huge fireball with these turbulent rolls going in and out...
seizing the arms of the fallen enemy..
...like a diseased brain, it was much more awesome than a puny little atomic bomb”
bottles with inflammable material,
with fuse lighted,
all designed to fit the bomb bay of a B-47
shot from a sixteen calibre shot gun
much more effective over greater distances
..only One Space existed..
than traditional Molotov cocktails
The great civilizations of Asia and Africa were,
from this point of view,
huge anthropomorphic vegetations.
The AEC chairman told Eisenhower’s press secretary
not to worry, the dying crew of the -Lucky Dragon- were probably Red spies.
The Castle series continued
Morgenstern: 110 kilotons-a dud
Alarm Clock: 6.9 megatons-not a dud
Yankee (Runt II): 13.5 megatons
Nectar, weighing in at a slight 6,520 lbs: 1.69 megatons
‘why buy a cow when powdered milk is so cheap?’ – read the wire back to D.C.
Meat should be preserved in the form of dried beef
tasks of non-combatants extremely important
the mass man regards himself as perfect
necessities of the guerrilla are: clean guns
to capture ammunition
and above all, good shoes
the problem (of Atomic energy): the State Department panel decided,
is ‘a problem of the ability of the human race to govern itself without war’
why not simply cease being governed?
ratchet it up to DefCon 2
SAC readies 2,952 nuclear weapons
no less than 112 Polaris SLBM’s
scorpions in a bottle
3He + D -> 4He + p + 18.35 MeV
bomblight from its outer surface
revealed the break through
of the developing explosion
before the mass had time
to swell, much less to move.
an armed group
engaged in the struggle
against the constituted power,
colonial or not.

Zombie Man

2009-05-12T01:08:00.000-07:00

Yes, mom, I have a zombie-man

I can’t take him back to the store

'cause I didn’t buy him

He followed me home

I can't re-bury him

I didn't just dig him up

how would I know how to use a backhoe?

no, this guy at school said

ma-

yes, I will let him feed everyday

and take him for (slow) walks

and clean up all the parts that fall off him

I do remember what happened the last time

but if he hadn’t been buried in his Nazi uniform no one from the synagogue would have cared

yes mom, I remember.

this one is different, I think it was a dentist or something

how should I know if its housetrained

or fixed

I don’t think they can do it anyway

at school, mom, I learned about it at school.

no I am not on drugs

yes, I have done my homework

yes, I did remember to buy milk, you are drinking it right now.

now please mom, can I go play with my zombie

man.

TV Must See TV

2009-05-12T00:55:00.000-07:00

He learned to watch (stare)

As the lights form people (corporate reporte[lia]rs)

And the images tell him to want things (new!)

He learned to be quiet (docile)

He learned to listen (subdued)

(this) (space) (now) (vacant)

Keeping Time

2009-05-12T00:45:00.000-07:00

Long days folded across a life
… a city
a habitat
designed to
keep the mind occupied.

Tragic eyes burn concrete
… downward inconsistencies in pavement

we come to each-other already broken

mud slowly turns to sand beneath the surface
…a river?
poison dissipates on the hour with the tide

closer to the surface now, wondering where our reflections have gone
or is that wandering
briefly now, briefly
take time
away from more important things

the days are still getting longer
as spring winds its way into summer
our lives are still getting shorter
as biology reminds us of something

II
like the coin coming up on edge
one or two of us manage the riddle

cut the Gordian foolishness apart
alone is apart

instructions on not giving away the game:
roll your eyes at key moments in conversations;

walk the crowded streets a little slower,
a little less interested,
for you the game is already over.

matter of time

until you can die;

and know what it is the dead know.
It should be better to be alive.

Soul?

2009-05-06T12:40:00.000-07:00

yes, I have one.
he answers quickly and not just to himself
but, I don’t seem to be using it much

thinking the heart to ice
attacking emotion without reason to stop
me dividing parts from parts
rotten fruit throwing sadness
gloriously ripping skies asunder
her holy wake

she, parts seas, electrically speaking
she, completes completion, anatomically feeling
she, divides emptiness, spiritually dying for us

see, i figure,
if i am a man
my soul must be a woman
balanced like a targeted apple

apples originally thought to speak
speech originally thought of apples
originally, apples spoke of thoughts
to the snakecult and snakes// apples taste good// to arrows

Tele-ify

2009-05-04T10:08:00.000-07:00

Tele-ify

You’ve been shown all along.
there is no one else to testify

King-snake slithers into
in front of
behind
the microphone
polished wood
benches, old dorm room buddies
of buddies

same polished wood
fraternity handshake

tv’s cycloptic camera(s) surround them//their costumed performance
short hair, black suit, a conservative tie- you aren’t meant to even notice

now the gutter is to be filled
millions/words, words
vomitous abyssal meaninglessness
formalized posturing
adherence to law
choke the air like a frightened skunk
or a pair of mating birds

shutter against the mind

you forget he was answering a question

I would like to thank the /scumbag/
from {( )}
for agreeing to testify today

testimony without translation from legalese
unpronounceable in English untranslatable into justice
no relief from the bloated gambit of language these monsters in suits spew
you’ve been shown all along that what profits the companies profits this country

I would like to thank the senate
for agreeing to televise the circus

Perception Time Again

2009-05-04T09:50:00.000-07:00

Perception Me a Cowboy, Drugstore,

perception me a dude way out there on the open, Indian-free-range.

Or Barry the Giant old Pirate a gun in hand, saying

‘live free or die chicken’, to me, a Christ figure!

shit for brains Barry is just a cold glimmer

of sunshine tinting off a rattler’s guilty fang

venom drips, apple shaped, off the wound inflictors’ perception

me a dude way out there on the range?

a gun in hand, saying,

‘you’re as hard as that one with a pool of water, a goose, and a dead guy.’

look to me and see, Darkmerica,

a shit for brains dead guy Christ figure

weapon, meet a guiltless hand

saying, ‘perception me,

cowboy, you killed my perception,

prepare to die

with a drugstore awareness of a quarantined art conditioned museum.’

doesn’t that rhyme with mausoleum? Try multi-plexoleum.

I had the weirdest dream,

and you were there,

and you, (a gun in hand

and you, (saying

there is no place like…

no place like this drugstore, cowboy.

no place like a tepid pool of consciousness, like home.

home in on the range

this .45, in the other hand, is loaded.

‘Surprise I am not left handed’, I say slurring my best New Mexican accent.

finger on the trigger, strung out like gore

(gore yet to be poured from my then shaved head)

onto a comically painted cement floor. ‘Don’t Tread on Me’ says the flag.

a gun? already in hand all safeties off, squeezing … squeezing... placing... the unfiredable weapon back

onto the range top. (kitchen)

I’ll just have to go and try again, ‘perception yourself a cowboy,

drugstore-awareness, I’ll say again, of art, question mark,

I think I’ll add question mark.’ ‘I don’t care

when dinner is mom, and I’m not suicidal,’ is said by Barry,

‘nor, mother, am I a rattlesnake Christ figure’, we’ve got her there. Barry rattles

…neither am I’(left handed), is said too, but not by Barry.

Fangs retract, sun goes down in west, and that’s it, that’s the ballgame, go home

cowboys and gentlemen and perception yourselves lucky.