Monday, September 15, 2014

Portland's Finest - Poem (Slam)



Portland’s Finest

Cuttin’ phone poles
Cuz I hate the noise they make
Environmental terrorist
Cuz I am not a fake

Cop cuffed me, cussed me, hit me and smiled,
“Lissen here, boy, you gonna be here a while
I wanna know your name,
Where you’re from
Your game
Tell me who you run with
What the fuck you are
Or its gonna be a long night
In the back of this police car.”

“I see, cop, you wanna know who I am?
I’m the impact between the four horns of two rams

I’m the dream that makes you awaken, panting
Lost in an ocean, alone and drowning

I’m the way that your wife looked with lust at that man
That could rip you in half with own bare hands

I’m the daughter you had that you couldn’t protect
From the boys with the drugs that you have to inject

I’m the gang that you fear that shot up your friend
Unlimited weapons and funds with no end
That slink around corners and fall through the cracks
That make you feel like you’re under attack

But that’s just the beginning my badgering friend
I’m the war that you started that has no end

I’m the kid that you hate just because he’s black
That might be a suspect so rat-a-tat-tat

By the fear in your eyes I know that your size
Is shrinking behind the false pride that you hide

So do what you want cuz it’s all coming back to you
The abuse that you levy, to me, is nothing new

I belong to an army of people that look like you
That mix with your crowd and drink with your crew

Make you nervous? It should, bitch, cuz we’re all around
Infiltrating your culture, waiting for the bell to sound

And when the bell sounds and it’s time to take action
I’ll be looking for you with a pissed-off faction.”

He looked around.
No one could see.
He un-cuffed me
And set me free.

--Eric Marley
September 2014

Inner Child: Occupation and Response - Essay

Inner Child: Occupation and Response



"Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?" -- Mary Oliver
Part 1: The Occupation
Well, Mary, the first thing I am going to do is grow up! I am going to smother this pathetic inner child that is always asking annoying questions. I mean, they never stop!  And they’re so stupid. For example, last night he looked up at the sky and asked, pointing at the stars, if those are the eyes of his friends that haven’t been born yet. Can you believe it? What an idiot. And once he asked if the clouds were people, just a different kind of people. I laughed. Everyone knows what clouds are; they are vaporized water that coagulates. And stars are just big rocks.  It’s not rocket science, kid! Oh, and he’s so distracted! He’ll be walking towards a bug on the ground and then stop and look at a flower for ten minutes, and then go pick and eat a ripe cherry tomato and then be sorry he missed the bug! Ugh, I don’t think this child has much of a future without my adult Self stepping in to intervene. So that’s what I’m going to do.
Once this child that is so obsessed with play and learning nonsensical things has been taught that those are not the ways of happy adults, and to aid in this endeavor, I will send him to school where he will sit in a class to learn the lessons of life. He will be instructed by teachers that may know a lot, but we will keep them to one subject for maximum efficiency. The kid will sit to his normal limits of attention, whatever the adults say is normal anyway, and then test him to make sure he has memorized the facts that were presented. Integrating the facts with practical life experience will happen, or not, but experience is not as important as the facts themselves, as anyone knows, because you can get experience down the road. If this inner child rebels, acts out or especially daydreams, we will make certain he is brought back into line with others that are on a track of success. To the extent that he conforms with the standards that are set up for successful people, he will be happy. He will belong. He will have many friends.
Now, we all know there is trouble in the world. When that happens, we go to war. What I hope for my inner child with his one wild and precious life, Mary, is that he will learn how to be patriotic, that he will pledge allegiance – not to Life, or to Creator, or to the happiness and well-being and awakening of mankind to our heavenly Connection, but to a flag and to the concepts that the leaders of his great nation say are important. To defend what is his – or what the leaders tell him should be his – for these it is worth risking his wild and precious life. In these evil times, we know that what is rightfully ours will be threatened by those that disbelieve us. And to defend his rights and those of his offspring so they can have anything they want, this is a critically important endeavor. He will defend the right to the lifestyle of a civilized nation. We worked hard for those rights. We sacrificed for them. I mean, we didn’t, but someone did. So it is our responsibility to not only defend these rights, but to find ways to sustain the lifestyles we deserve. Build a fence to protect your stuff, growing inner child – so you can be happy, and your offspring can be happy, too. It is not your responsibility to worry about the residents of other nations. Your nation is what matters. This should be apparent.  (But it probably isn’t to him yet, haha).
Once he is out of the service, with his one wild and precious life, I hope my inner child will go work for someone, for that is the way of safety. Sure his creativity may feel stifled at times, but that is why he gets two weeks off per year, to go find his bliss again, so he can return energized for another fifty weeks. If he stays long enough and does well, he can get more days off – whatever the company says he can take. He can sail oceans and surf and fish, as long as he comes back. If the company doesn’t sell or change management or go through any hard times because of dishonesty, greed, mismanagement, or the larger economy faltering, he can one day get money for not working and look back on his life from a place of physical disrepair with the satisfaction that comes to someone that has given his life to what matters.
During his years of working, this inner child will need to find God. For that, he will need religion. I hope he will find one that gives him direction about how to know God, that has pre-formed rites and rituals that keep him in line, so he doesn’t do anything to offend the Great Deity upon whom he is dependent for favor. With luck, he will never feel the need to ask questions that would estrange him from his great God. With even greater luck, he will have experiences that make him feel closer to Him, and hopefully those experiences will teach him not only that he is right, but that others are wrong and that their sacred experiences  are from the Enemy of All Righteousness. There is no doubt that this successful son will be at war with this Enemy the whole of his life. May he vanquish him and stand atop his dead body with the flaming sword of justice in his hand, pointing it towards the sky which is the home of the Lord. I hope this for him.
There is much work to be done for this wild child of nature to have a successful life. Let the training begin forthwith. 
“Come on, kid, get in here.”
Part Two: The Resistance
My name is Alexander. I don’t know how I know how to say what I am about to say. I don’t even know how I know what I am going to talk about, but I do.
I heard that man talking a second ago. I don’t like what he says. I am only five years old, and I already know that what he says is not right.
I know a lot more than he thinks, but he doesn’t think what I know is very important. Like sometimes I lay in my bed and listen to the rain on the window and it sounds like when my cat walks down the hall and it makes me feel warm inside. And sometimes the moon breaks through the clouds when it’s still raining and each drop holds its own rainbow, like its own little world. I watch them shimmer in the moonlight that comes from so far away and it’s like it makes them alive, just for me. I feel special, I feel close to the One who made the raindrops when I see that because I know that in some way, everything is just like that. I look up at the moon and it makes me smile, even when it’s not raining. And when I see it poking through the clouds, I think of my mother. She’s soft, like the moon. The sun can be hard. Once I got a sunburn and it hurt for days and then my skin even peeled off! The moon never does that. The sun makes everything so … so much. But the moon, especially a full moon, gives me just enough. These quiet times with her make me want to be nice to my sisters, too. I don’t think that guy knows that the moon and I are friends.  I feel the same about the earth, too, except a little different because it has a different personality to me. He would say those things are not important. That’s not right. And what that guy said about my question about the stars wasn’t right, either. In fact, I know he’s wrong. Those really are the eyes of my friends that haven’t been born yet. I know that when spacemen look at them close they are rocks, but from a distance they are my friends, looking down on me. I know that because they tell me stories of other times, times I don’t remember when I am alone, when we were all together. The stories all sound familiar, even though I don’t remember them without the help of my friends. I don’t know how it works like that – that they can be one thing up close and another thing far away and how I can hear them inside me, but that’s how it really works. They come to me all the time. I could say more about it, but when he was making fun of me and how I love everything – the bugs and flowers and tomatoes – that I can’t get enough of those living things, it hurt my feelings. It’s not my fault. I just… love everything. (shrugs). What’s wrong with that?
He talked about school, too, that guy. I’m not going. I’m not. He can do whatever he wants, but I am not going. (Long pause, frowning). But if he makes me go, you better watch out because I am not going to follow their rules. I AM going to daydream, all the time, unless they say something that lines up with what I already know inside me. I won’t listen to anything else, from anyone that tries to teach me. I know more than people think. All new stuff has to agree with what the stars and moon say, and what the dirt and the bugs and sky says, or I am going to ignore it. It’s like there’s this straight pole inside me that is made of truth. Any new idea that comes to my mind has to be straight like it is or I am throwing it out. If a part or the new idea is bent and a part is straight, I can maybe keep the straight part and throw away the rest. If too much is bent, or if the teacher is mean, I will throw it all out. Teachers should be nice because anything that lines up with the pole inside me agrees with the moon, and I told you the moon is like my mother, and the earth, and all that is Real. If Teachers are mean, it’s because they hold too much inside them that is not real and that will make me doubt everything they say. Good luck, school, teaching me anything that disagrees with the stars. I will not listen.
After talking about school, the man talked about war. I don’t understand war. It looks exciting to me, but it also looks like it hurts everything good. I guess there are reasons that someone might have to fight. Like, if someone was going to hurt one of my sisters, I would fight, even if I was scared. I am the oldest, and the biggest and strongest. If my parents weren’t around, who would help them? First I would try to talk it out – I would try real hard because I would probably be scared– but if that didn’t work, put ‘em up! (Puts ‘em up, smiling a gap toothed grin). But the thing that made no sense to me was the part about allegiance to the flag. It seems like that is not a good idea. The flag isn’t the one telling people what to do; it’s the people that have the power behind it. Anyone knows that. And if those people say to do things that don’t line up with my inner pole, what then? What if they only want what’s good for them, and not the people? I’ve heard the pledge of allegiance. I even said it. But I am not going to say it any more until they change it to say:
“I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the republic for which it stands, as long as the leaders agree with my inner pole, one of many nations that are all under God, that promise to try not to divide themselves from each other, with liberty and justice for all.” I like that last part the best. I don’t think they’re going to change the pledge of allegiance for me, though, so I am not going to say it anymore. I’m sorry I ever did.        
That guy also talked about working for someone. That just seems like school for grownups that forgot everything; forgot how to be happy, forgot how to play, forgot how to hear things like stars talking, forgot about their inner pole… (Appears to think hard). I guess there has to be work in the world. But it seems like people should just do what they want to do for work and spit up the hard jobs or the bad jobs between themselves. Otherwise, who would haul the garbage? Who would (smiles and chuckles to himself) clean my room? Some things have to be done, but there’s no way I am going to spend my … what did she say? … “wild and precious life” sitting in a school for grownups. No way. My inner pole wants to throw up when I think about that. It wants to wither. I think that’s what the workers’ bosses want to happen. It makes the adults easier to boss around.
And can I just say that church sucks? Why would God create a whole world and then only visit the places that man built? God doesn’t like man-made stuff. He wants man to like God-made stuff. Of all the things that guy said, the part about religion was the worst. The worst! I want to make my own religion, and have one member in it: me. I want to do whatever God tells me to do, and I want to hear her in my own mind, with my own words. I don’t know if God is a man or a woman or a child or an animal… I kind of think God is the perfect mixture of all those things. Whatever he is, all I want to do is be in front of him and I want him to be in front of me. I want to see the tracks of God everywhere. I never want to forget what my heart tells me, what the moon and stars and owls and dolphins and all the people who love each other say: that I am somehow a part of God. I don’t know how, but something inside me tells me that. And when I whisper to myself when I am going to sleep, “I am a part of you, God. Thank you for telling me that,” my inner pole sings.
I think this adult that wants to possess me is going to have a harder time than he thinks. I know that in some other times that I don’t really remember he had an easier time with me. But not this time. This time I am walking my own way. I am looking at the sky. I am standing on the earth. I am holding to the trees.
This time, I am me.

--Eric Marley
September 11, 2014        

Monday, August 25, 2014

Parting Circle - Prose

Parting Circle

Higher vibration
Indigenous nation
Calling your station
We
Have now to conform
But not with the norm
We align with Jesus
And Mother Teresa
With snails and trees
And dolphins and seas
We reject your religion
Make careful incision
Remove your dark cancer
Insert a Ghost Dancer
Heal from the inside
Grow a new Earth beside
Which we stand


Clasping multicolored hands


While outside will be found
The linear time bound
The Bush’s and Cheney’s
And other detainees
Of insane cultures
Our vomiting vultures are full of you…


Drop your Halliburton weapons and step in
We will part our circle for you
Just leave your tank toys
And Navy Seal boys
And powerless Rangers behind


I think you’ll find
The peace of mind
Your inner boy
Was killing for…

--Eric Marley
August 2014

Thursday, August 21, 2014

Barefootin' - Essay thing



It’s the weekend and I’m at home, so I don’t wear shoes.
I walk in the forest without shoes.
I walk up to the neighbor’s house on grass and gravel, without shoes.
I walk on my front porch, in my house and storage area without shoes.
Without shoes in the forest my steps are silent. I move like an owl.
Without shoes, I sense reality just that much more. That snail I stepped on in my dark and Light temple yesterday? Not only did I feel it, I heard it. I stopped and looked down at a Being whose life I had altered, probably ended. I would not have heard it or felt it had I been wearing shoes.

Wait, Eric. You would have heard it.

No, actually I don’t think I would have. I was walking on an overgrown gravel road that cuts through it. The shoes I would have been wearing would have had just enough scrape in them to camouflage the tiny snap I heard, and I never would have felt it, even wearing moccasins or my old Vibram 5 Fingers shoes that I loved so much. Instead, as it happened I slowed from barely moving to stop and I bent down and looked at the tiny life. I don’t know if snails sleep, but I am certain that at the beginning of the day, however it starts for snails (snail coffee and donuts on the weekend, I would imagine), he couldn’t have fathomed with his snail mind that his life would end in a few hours.

So now you know: I held communion with a dying snail in my forest of dark and Light yesterday, because I walked barefoot through it.

Today is different. I don’t get to stay home today. Today I have to go meet up with a bunch of people and do some heavy work. Not wearing shoes would be dangerous. I saw my cowboy boots in the corner and sighed. It’s my footwear of choice when I have to wear something on my feet. I love my boots, but they’re… boots. I walked over to the drawer under my bed and pulled out wool socks, which are also my choice year round. They’re red and grey and thick. I like the way they look and they make my feet feel the right kind of snug with my boots. I pulled them on. My feet felt like they were in a couzy. I hadn’t even realized my feet were cold.

I sighed. It starts.

What starts, Eric? You have something against warm feet? What the hell is wrong with you? I mean, other than the fact that you sometimes talk to yourself through your keyboard?

No, warm feet are nice, but I am getting into the habit, more and more, of living close to my authentic self. (Muffled self-laugh, kind of a snort, really, followed by, “OK Eric… socks and Reality… please… by all means, proceed.”)

Well let me start by saying I have cleared things out of my life, often at great personal sacrifice, that did not / are not resonating with my soul. From possessions to people, if it’s not working with me, it’s out of here. As I do this, it’s like how the sun burns away the morning clouds. First a little blue appears, and then more and then more. It doesn’t happen all at once. At first, you’re not even sure the clouds are going to part. Over there to the southeast… doesn’t that look like more rain coming this way? But no… the sun wins the day and by noon you’re napping under skies so blue you forget there were clouds ever.

And my point?

The point is this: there is cold in the world. The earth provides that. There is also rain, sun, clouds, blue sky. Insulating ourselves against all things that could be termed uncomfortable is where all the wars in the world start (removing religion from consideration, unless one could consider “unknowing” a type of egoic discomfort – which of course it is). Discomfort is a great teacher. Just as I mentioned above, I get to more fully experience what it means to inhabit my human body when I carefully choose which discomforts I can safely allow. I mean, I AM in control of that decision. I’m not going to walk in front of an amorous bull in springtime to see if I can outrun him in the name of defining my humanness, reality, masculinity, whatever. That’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about allowing my spirit to get as many messages that have their genesis in contact with the Earth as possible, as long as they don’t disrespect or endanger the organism that my Soul possesses. My body is a thing of the Earth. I suspect my Spirit chose to be here in this place and plane. So why would I try to insulate It from the very things that make life here unique? I also suspect that Creator allows for messages and hints of truth to be communicated through contact with the Earth. This may be a stretch, I have to admit, for anyone who hasn’t come to this conclusion on their own.

For example, I want to share some very literal messages I have received in the past few years as I’ve become a barefoot aficionado:
1.)    The faster I walk, the more my mind spins out
2.)    When I am barefoot in the forest, I barely breathe out of respect for the stillness…
3.)    …and that stillness permeates my Being and allows a feeling of Connectedness to settle on me like a butterfly on my heart. I really like that.
4.)    Sometimes it’s best to sit –like when my feet get sore or its too hot to walk on pavement (hint: pavement sucks) rather than go everywhere all the time. There are limits to healthy mobility. I suspect that if we listened to our bodies (feet especially) more, we would be home a lot more often.
I really value these messages and I find that they pass the test of experience for me. When I make daily decisions considering them, I feel more self-love. My soul is pretty amazing, so self-love is in alignment with Truth. That’s what I mean by that.

Other things I am experimenting with more frequently include:
1.       Sunglasses: just a gut feeling that my eyes don’t want to be wide open all the time, and that chicks dig sun and smile wrinkles. Hey, I didn’t say I was perfect or that my motivations always involve leaps in consciousness.
2.       Radio: Propaganda is great (not really), and do you ever really pay attention to the messages that are pouring into your consciousness and physical space through the glorious medium of music (or sports talk radio for that matter)? It’s alarming. Put music to something and it’s a part of me. Case in point: I can still sing tons of Mormon hymns, and do at times, and I haven’t heard them for years. I can also “sing” Kid Rock’s “Cowboy” nearly flawlessly given a karaoke machine and a few guffawing friends. This cancels out the LDS part. And then some. 
3.       Cars: The Universe broke my MINI Cooper, and then my motorcycle. “You drive too much, dude. Go hang out at the forest when you’re not working.” I am SO grateful to have accepted this situation! It’s changed my life for the better. That snail may not think so, however.
4.       Fast food: Some is less-worse than others, but most fast food doesn’t feed my body anymore. It fills my belly, but I feel like crap after I eat it and I’m hungry again sooner than I should be. Do you notice this in your life, too? My body is not only a temple, it’s an antenna. The better it works and healthier it is, the clearer the messages I can receive. That’s worth passing on certain types of food… usually. Except those Taco Bell apple empanadas. Hey, they’re apple!

There are a few things I haven’t figured out how to live without, like asthma medicine, a car and money, although the healthier I get, the less of all three I need. And I am convinced that in the case of the medicine, my food and lifestyle choices have a huge effect. The closer to Source I live, the less of that problem I have. As for the others, I didn’t create this system and culture and feel it is not time to leave it just yet so I have to have money to live like I need to for my daughter. I live in the boonies so I can feel place-peace twice a day, so I have to have a car.

I guess in the end, I have certain habits that insulate me from the messages my body would send me. Since I started walking barefoot out of pure joy of feeling, it’s taught me a lot about how this culture requires nearly mindless insulation from our souls to even co-exist. I wasn’t sent here to not feel. I was sent here to feel it ALL and then decide what to do with it. I want to live like that. I have one chance in this place and plane. I want to experience it, even when it hurts.

Barefooting helps bare my soul. Think I’ll take a quick walk in the wet grass. 

Raft - Parable or something



Call me crazy, but I’d rather know.

I was floating down a lazy river on a comfy raft on a warm day. I like the river and I had this nifty map, too. It told me all the rapids ahead. I caught fish and ate them while I was camped on shore at night. The stars were amazing, too. I was pretty happy. Every once in a while I would come across some rapids that were not marked, which could cause some problems, or an expected take-out spot would be unexpectedly missing so I’d have to find another. I suspected the map was old but it never caused serious issues so I let the creeping concerns go unheeded. Then one day I was napping in the sun as my raft drifted along and I noticed some guy on the shore yelling. I opened my eyes and there was a wild man on shore.

“Falls! There’s falls ahead!”

 That caught my attention. Sure enough, there were. I grabbed my paddles and started paddling like crazy and I barely made it to shore, just before it was too late.  

So I go chat with the guy on the shore that saved my life. You know, to thank him. He had clear eyes and dreadlocks to go with you might call a silent knowing, like he had grown the forest himself. I ask him what I should do next. He just shrugged and said, “All I know is that I saw you and your raft and knew that you wouldn’t make it without my help. So I yelled.”

“Well, thanks, brother,” I say.

“You’re not much safer here on land,” he continued. “There are bears, poisonous snakes and plants, and you may starve. But at least you’re not dead by drowning.” His smile was compassionate, radiant, and deadly serious at the same time.

I looked back towards the river, and with a rustle of leaves he was gone.

I remember looking down at my map. Trusting it had almost cost my life. I realized I really had no idea where it came from or why I had decided to use it in the first place. I went to the shore and looked again at the falls, and then at my map. Maybe I had just missed it? Nope. It’s not on there. In a split second I came to the conclusion that the map was worthless. If my map missed that one spot, how can I ever really trust it again? I can’t ride the river, therefore I don’t need the map. Or the raft, for that matter. I pulled it far ashore and tied it to a tree. I guess you never know. But then I thought, you know, I do know. I cut it loose and pushed it back into the water. The last I saw it, it was airborne. 

Since that time, I’ve been chased by bears, wolves and cats and eaten poisonous plants and thought I was going to die. At times I wished I would. I’ve broken bones that I’ve set myself and gone for days without food. But I’m still here, and I am beginning to know the forest. I run into other wild men and women who give me a tidbit of info here and there and then vanish into the brush like that first guy. Sometimes they hang around for a while, but generally they show up at odd but perfect intervals, tell me something I had to know right then, and then leave. I’ve seen faeries and gnomes and other creatures I scoffed at before. They cannot always be trusted to tell the truth, but they always teach a truth of some sort, and their timing is impeccable.  

What I’ve found is that the truth that all the Beings teach is this: the forest is alive and speaks a language that will save you. While you are learning the language you may think the forest is trying to kill you, but no one knows anyone who’s died in the forest, as dangerous as it is. It’s scary sometimes, it really is. At times I wonder if it had been better had I not been warned, if I had just been permitted to launch off the falls. But those thoughts are fleeting and silly. The only people who have died, the old ones say, are the ones that gave up on the forest (usually after some fearful experience) and got back in the raft and tried to navigate it with their own faulty maps, which have never been updated. They can’t be; the river changes all the time, and it’s different for everyone.

Eventually everyone gets out and walks into the forest. We all do. It is our destiny. And we are never alone.