Author Archives: Marcel

Stained glass

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O behold!
radiant gem
inverted prism
kaleidoscope
of unheralded magnificent beauty
eyes and ears of
unknown realms!
Each of us
a perfect aperture
light shining thru
stained glass
mosaic
adding its own unique
vibration
hues.

With every death we die,
with every moment
we
let go
of what is not now
of what we can’t hold
of what is not us
we clean our
glass
our window
more clear
more pure
more radiant
– light shining
its full radiating
brilliance,
we hear our true
self
humming along
humming birds
humming
in
the great celestial choir,
symphony of
all Beings in
eternity

 

NY 4.11.13

 

Fear

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An ode to you
oh Beast!
What are you?
You seem so powerful,
all pervasive, ruthless, yes merciless, indiscriminate, indiscreet and secretive all at once.
.
Who are you?
You who holds reign with the worst of
dictators and tyrants,
on par with
molesters and torturers,
your kingdom far outstrips all the
fiefdoms and nations combined
as your pincher claws
reach,
clench and
grope
across the globe.
You turn people’s lives upside
down,
hold them in a
chokehold,
and lock them in a chamber without
windows,
no air to breath,
in darkness ,
a stench of waste and things
rotten
and decayed,
a dungeon, a prison for life, nothing short of
hell
as we imagine it,
.
you make people do things in
desperation,
you make our bodies reek,
a pungent
odor of
lives
lived in the
shadows.
.
you stare us down, immobilize us, threaten us, squeeze the life out of us, all in the name of
protection and
self preservation.
you make us
thicken our armor, raise our shields, sharpen our weapons, and fortify
our bunkers.
.
you make us walk
the plank
rather than even consider
the alternative
.
And yet,
you are nothing.
.
Nothing but an empty shell –
lifeless,
if it wasn’t for us
feeding you
.
O hungry Beast,
feeding you,
endlessly,
a constant stream of
guilt, self hatred,
self annihilation,
doubt, second guessing,
spite…..
.
The table is set in full galore and with
incredible riches
day after day
because we won’t quit on you
loyal slaves
.
And yet,
you are nothing.
.
You are nothing
but the projection of our
ongoing resistance
to life,
to love,
to being one
with One.
.
Your power is only
because
you serve a secret
agenda;
OUR secret agenda:
to stay separate, claim
our “otherness”, claim
our superiority,
our independence.
To not surrender to life.
To not surrender to Love.
.
mythical stories of the Fall. Lucifer. Adam and Eve.
the fated
bite
in the apple
.
Sadly
we have been portrayed as
sinners.
Our so called ‘fall from grace’.
But the story, the “truth” is so much more interesting than that.
.
How could we be in the realm of
Love
if we even didn’t
know it,
were not aware
of it?
How could we truly participate in this
Feast of Love
if we merely obeyed orders of a (dictatorial)
Higher Power?
Fell in line
without question,
without doubt,
without hesitation
and yes
perhaps resistance, even
resentment?
Without
putting up a fight,
worthy of what is at stake:
total bliss?
.
Overnight Faust and Satan and
a long line
of exotic
masked demons,
beasts and half gods
stop
being the villains
we can project our resistance on,
and merely have become
facilitators,
props
in this
eternal dance
we
dance.
.
The only way,
ultimately,
is
for each and all of us
to make a
choice:
.
come Home,
or stay out a
little longer.
.
.
.
** On an aside: this is where math, signage and language diverge.
Zero or “Nothing” is the only way to graphically express something that paradoxically holds “everything” – picture the round circle, the Omega -;
One, expressed as the number “1”, suggests the quality of distinct individuality but does a poor job of communicating the sense of  “being one”, being connected, joined, without apparent separation.

 

Mandate

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My in-breath,
my out
breath
That’s all the
mandate
I need,
to
Be!
To express,
my Self
– a vessel,
my own will not
withstanding –
my hole in the
lampshade,
sun among suns.
NY 3.30.13

What IS

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A titillating solo run
by Herbie
running free,
devising his own
alternate universe
parallel
fifths
alternate
voicings
parallel
universes
mixing it up
all
within a 32
bars
or so,
being
on the edge of
experiencing
one realm
or another
nasty
wedge of deliciously
odorous French
cheese,
the legs on a robust
unknown but
highly pleasant
red
and
knee-high brown
boots
covering black
leather
underneath
a
fiery red coat
raven black manes,
Persian princess
riding B63
a
copy
of the
Bhagavad Gita
– in Farsi no less –
in her delicate hands
a counter tenor
sailing
on the wings
of Couperin
through
imaginary
Cathedrals
in an
endless
sky
Is it all just about
a heightened experience
of
what  is?
NY 3.30.13

Sound poems

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Impromptu sound poem I

Impromptu I

 

Impromptu sound poem II

Impromptu II

 

Sound poem – Untitled I

Untitled I

A few words about this nifty little player: there’s a mute button to the left. Click on the bars to change the volume. Clicking on another player will automatically close the current player.

(if you’re in an adventurous mood: open several windows, and the sound files will start to overlap…)

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