message in a bottle

detach yourself from the seeming
successes and failures of your children

 by doing so, you become able
to be one with them at all times

you do not live your life
through your children

 therefore they are free
to find their own true fulfillment

The Parents Tao Te Ching - translated by William Martin

m e s s a g e   i n   a   b o t t l e

and at once, I knew
I was not magnificent



unemployed again - late in the game

I’m looking for a job where there’s room for my spirit to grow 
(easier said than done)

I've been most fortunate
in having rewarding employment
jobs that I liked (ok most)  

it’s always been important and especially so now

it's becoming more of a challenge with each passing day
in a fixed timeline tock-ticking and where relevance 
becomes an exercise in irreverence 

my home is in a world vibrant, fragrant and abundant

by a field near water with blue sky and clean air

less - is more
 

 

I’m thinking about what it will be like 

sitting on the rocks of the southern shore of Lake St. Clair 

on a cold cloudy day in March 1969

where I lived as a 12 year old boy in isolation
parents split - spitting strangely - stupidly

living with Dad and this woman - an old flame fermenting
who hates us because we're just in her way
she just wants him - not us
baggage
  
me and my younger brother
Dad always gone, out of the picture
so yeah, both parents
in absentia 

Dad drinks, everyone drinks - a lot
whatever
beach-combing - a daily ritual for David and me
finding shit that washes up 
 

looking out, just the sound of the waves 

and the hollow, haunting cry of the seagulls

floating by (going with the flow)

I can do this
looking up
 

  

it's all in the absorption

seeing a corked clear bottle drifting my way 

lifting it out - removing the slippery, cold green seaweed 
opening it - a piece of paper - wow! 
this handwriting looks familiar 

it’s a note from me, written 47 years in the future (March 2016)
unraveling the roll and absorbing it in the quiet

it reads as follows ...

.

I want to think about progress in nature

I want to see the stars and
thank the gods
 

I’m 59 and there’s not a whole lot of time left

and I want what’s left to count for something in the world

spending time thinking about what we don’t want 
(or what has gone wrong) 

is a waste and I’d like those years back - gone 

I want to spend time thinking about what I do want 

I want to inspire people
everyone around me
 
that being said, I am consistently reminded 

that we live in a world 
made up of shapes and things

circles, triangles and squares

and that thinking out of the box

means compromising the integrity 
of the infrastructure

 

there’s black and white
then the primary colours then - ok
I think you get the idea
 
rules are important because structure is important 

without them there would be no order in the universe

so I respect our rules and laws - values and beliefs

providing one doesn’t get stuck inside them

magnetized to the dots on a flat white page 

with an inability to connect them

let alone distance oneself - seeing the bigger picture

from a fresh new perspective (from afar)

this for me is what life is fundamentally about 

that willingness to take a step back and appreciate

what goes on under the surface

or beyond our exterior

utilizing our resources 
to their utmost
potential  

listening to her nautical narrative 
silently sung
 

between the lofty lines 

the magic that exists in all things 
and yet remains elusive 

to the naked eye

m e s s a g e   i n   a   b o t t l e

 

 spending time thinking about what I don’t want 
is a waste of everyone's time 

I want to spend what’s left of my life 
thinking about what I do want


and at once, I knew
I was not magnificent

there are those who would say no
I would do nothing differently - me?
I would do everything differently
starting with this
 
 

I love you friend

may you live abundantly 
and love every single, breathing moment 

that remains

 

big time

hi there
I'm on my way - I'm making it 

enough about you
let's talk about

ME


“a man wrapped up in himself 

makes for a very small parcel.”

John Ruskin 

B I G   T I M E





so much larger than life

"I feel like I'm too busy writing history to read it"
Kanye West

 

we're so alone as children
growing up in a weary world 
where there is so much tension

my parents were really at odds and I felt it
left out 

the constant fighting - the make up sex

only with another, when he/she

isn't looking

"just go watch TV"
right, Batman, F-Troop and Time Tunnel re-runs
just a kid - no clue

hey shit - I've seen this one already 


every afternoon in black and white
and all before a wieners and beans supper
summer 1966 - wandering

why is everyone so scared?

 

WTF - whatEVER

that super-hot distraction

been there - done that 
it's my destiny

recreational substances in abundance
all you can eat pleasure
 

ok, blow-job of the century dude
I had it ALL figured out by the time I turned 17
parents split 7 years - whatever

by the time I was 20 
I was a god

when music came along - it became my friend

I wanted to circumvent the relentless rain
living large - well at least
in my head 

inventing a new position in opposition

it's what kids in pain do
the secret stash

desperate measures
welcoming me

bring it 

there is no limit to what someone 
with a large supply of cash and credit can do

TV taught me that
school - was well, functional at best
zero creativity

in the quest to see our name in lights

 its called validation
that all important stamp 
of approval 

 it stems from our infant years when we are desperate 
for love and attention from our parents

if we don't receive it 
then we spend the rest of our lives 
chasing it in other forms of unattainable attention
in that wet white-wash 

wishing

like being a rock-star, prostitute, criminal
even better - all at the same time
playing in some shitty bar for free
just for her approving smile

whatever it takes

anything to get that validation

even blowing a trust fund 

in a bad return investment

or three  

nothing matters anymore
I'm broken - bankrupt but
I can make it

back 

the place where I come from is a small town
they think so small - they use small words  
  

wanting to be someone - anyone famous  

doing whatever it takes

plastic surgery even

nothing matters

anymore

 he's beautiful and talented

just like I am

whatever it takes

making headway - actually realizing something

staking our claim in the absolute abstract

and yet real - for just a moment

that 15 minutes I was promised
a long time ago

it's all I want

and I'll squeeze it
till it hurts

America's infatuation with the celebrity 

that elusive class of elite super-humans

powered by glamour, glitz

and lots of cold hard cash

opulent omnipotence

important impotence

immune

 these mythical creatures 
have been bestowed an almighty status 
indeed viewed as an elite
eclipsing

shadows shape shifting  

a separate species of own making
that fixture in society

adored and remembered

whatever it takes

I'm going there

whether you like or not

whether it helps or hurts you

because it's all that I have

to hold on to

because it's what I need

to feel real

B I G   T I M E

and so, ladies and gentlemen

validation 

is the subject of my valedictory address, this evening

looking out into a room of blank faces

but not me
I'm smarter than that
I worked it out

so yeah, enough about you
let's talk about my new selfie

some call it 'classic rock'
I call it classic

ME



so much larger than life
 

 

phoria

one step ahead 
just breathe

until then, I'm a refugee 
and I need to run

dateline:  July 20, 2016
.


 

p h o r i a



 

  

 I think they call it "Collateral Damage"
Special Forces loves making big messes
but don't like cleaning them up
learned this 7 years ago (when I was 2)
when they showed up in our village, Mosul
in north-west Iraq - before we had to move here
to Syria 

Out of the frying pan, and into the fire

First time they came in
spewing their special everywhere
George W called it "Operation Enduring Freedom"
I call it operation clusterfuk, right
I mean, whose freedom?

certainly not mine 

My feet hurt and I'm really 
hungry - so

fuck off 

Parents?  what parents?
Crisis?  what crisis? 

 OK

You send your groomed boys over here
sporting their latest iPhones and Tresemme' hair gel
showing off his girlfriend "Britney" in a shot of her
wearing a skimpy bikini, by the pool - back home
to the jealous rookie, sitting beside him - "fak, hot dude"
smiles all around - good for ratings
right - whatever

munching on a cold dog from camp
before they land in Damascus
heading north - to us 

"You're ok Spencer", pat on the back
"and ya, that haircut?  intense" - inhaling the mystery meat
mustard drip on our full metal jacket floor
"relax dude"

heart rate acceleration and a few fries
short of a happy meal here - thump 

"Boeing V-22's always shake when they're landing
bolts fall out - collateral damage (LOL)
been here, done this"

"gimme a high 5"

looking out at sand and dust
temporary structures 


"you rule dude"
 

That's me, in the striped shirt
just wanting to touch his massive gun
10 minutes before they blew the gas station up
ya, the one where we were living
because Abdul (owner) was on the list
of those questionable, ah
not questionable
any more

So yeah - Abdul is dead, more bugs - more flys on red flesh
hot sun - time to move on

Back at the ranch ...

Nothin' like a little 'male bonding' before 
shooting up everything, everywhere
fuckin' some serious shit - up

On a mission of "mercy" ... flying high in formation
here to throw rocks at the hornets nest (yet again) and yes
we get caught; families killed 

or displaced and where do we go?
Your first tour of duty guy
 
hey Spence - you ok?

oK, we'll find home somewhere
 
In a wooden box or hanging on in a crowded boat

with no life jackets, food/supplies, no toilets

messing ourselves because we really gotta go

 hoping to make it to some island that's supposed to be out there

it's a dream I keep having
thirsty, water - anything for just a sip

Some rich billionaire - so they say, whatever

 options and opportunities are sworn to secrecy

because if they find out, we may be followed
and shut down permanently

.


In the outskirts of Deir ez-Zur
280 miles north-east of Damascus
a 9 year old boy lays peacefully in a muddy ditch
wondering what to do

Red explosions in a black nightsky
I'd like to take them out
all of them

shoot back, imagining
ammo 
 

Iman was separated from his family after a drone strike
3 days ago - and hasn't eaten anything since 
the Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant
moved into the area about a month ago
where people now scurry-scared of what's coming

Gathering rations - praying for
a future

Iman, has no idea who they really are
only that they want something that he doesn't have
His mother cries out because the family is minus one
moving on without him - he is/was her baby boy
perilously uncertain of what tomorrow will look like

 Whether they will still be alive - reminiscing ...
that clay walled room, in the back of a rural gas station
the place they called home for 4 days, blown up
burned and turned to rubble/ash

just a week earlier

Word is, they were headed north - for Hamrat
where the U.N. has set up a temporary shelter patch
food, drinking water ... rest

Only he has no idea - how to get there

Word is, there's life after death

It's a rumour that's been spreading around
and that it's all about faith - in God/Allah
Delivered and recycled in prayer before bed
songs sung in the twilight in Mommy's arms
in a world turned dark, 24/7

Monsters - everywhere
east west north south - sores on my mouth
It's dark and I'm scared - so is she

Haunting echos of sub-sonic rumblings in the distance
My stomach crumbling for lack of sustinence
reminding me of what used to be here

Sweet rice in reach
 and yet another storm on the horizon
running for cover

red rain is falling


and yet there is a soothing quiet in the madness
forced to leave this place, then the one after
and after because the pounding is relentless
into another shelter

Getting lucky in Deir ez-Zur
because Daddy knew Abdul
and he had a storage room out back
where we could stay for a few days
Me and my four sisters, Mom and Dad
2 mattresses and some blankets
an out-house and well out back 
sweet rice with raisins
and a bug infested dog
named Amira (princess)

 Maybe a week, hoping - maybe
time to think

I thought the Americans were coming to help
but it's not helping - we're stranded here
Daddy told me that it was the Americans
who created the IS, and that they
are just as evil

Something about oil/money, power and control
Personally I think it's more about ego
Entitlement, boredom and neglect
I mean this part of the world
is a toilet

Americans just love fucking everybody's shit up

So ya, I believe Daddy - only because
when the monsters come, they come 
driving American Humvees
tanks and guns and
they are fighting
each other
now

Tyranny arrived here about a year ago
and they were all sporting hardware
designed and made in the USA
stolen by those who were 
born here

and who the Americans are fighting now 
I'm not sure which is worse 
the Americans, or 
the monsters

People who look like me but are nothing like me
I'm confused - someone
explain this to me

They say there's a new consciousness in this world
I would like to test that theory - right now 





p h o r i a


 

crush in bodies of mine
all that searching all that pride 
now by calling force you out into the night

getting no fire going this time

  
hop scotch in barbed wire

I'd like to remember something good
like to go somewhere even better
I just need a sign, a signal

direction

I don't know what to believe in anymore
I don't know who to believe in anymore
If there is a God - I don't know
if he is real


Daddy, clarify
over & out 

It's just one unique perspective
in a world that would appear to be detached
from what really matters


No please, take your time, no rush God no
just relax - we'll meet
again

Until then, I'm a refugee 
and I need to run

one step ahead 
just breathe

 

.