Two souls, split from one
Encounter each other
In this life.
Naturally opposites and opponents
They work against each other
Because each took different traits
From the original soul.
Mutually each despises the other
And silently plots to destroy
They are unaware of the truth
They don’t know there are countless others
Ripped apart before birth
Perhaps they meet in battle
A fierce fight
Hand to hand combat
The survivor stabbed the victim
In the throat
But he has problems reintegrating
Because of a gnawing emptiness
He says a part of him died in the war
But he cannot know
The devastating truth of that statement
He killed a piece of himself
Maybe two soul-halves meet
At their place of employment
One is highly competent
The other causes problems
But they must work together
Day after day they face frustration
They may spend their entire career
Wishing the other would go away
They deprive themselves
Of the joy they could take
In their work
Because of the daily struggle
Against an unstoppable force
There are hints they don’t see
Small similarities they share
Something in common that
They can’t quite grasp
Like the battlefield enemies
Ultimately they will know the truth
They will one day discover
After this life has ended for both
That the one was the other
And the other was the one
When they opposed each other
They opposed themselves.
A creative force is engaging me.
There may be a psychic force, too
But it is one step back.
While learning to draw
After some struggling
I felt a click.
It was just a small shift
Like a tooth falling into a notch
While shading a cat’s face.
The project began
When I opened a book about
How to draw cats.
The drawing began as the book showed
But then I started shading it
To look like Max
While working on his right cheek
That force took over
And guided the pencil to
Just the right places.
Other changes are occurring
I’m writing more, for one
Take this for example.
I’ve been framing
My best pictures
Choosing the right mats
And the right frames
I’ve never purposely
Matted a picture before
But I know when I’ve
Gotten it right
Because I feel that click.
When I’m on the couch
With my eyes closed
Searching for an altered state
I can feel myself searching
For that slight dip in the road
Like a safecracker listening
For metal tapping metal.
The closest I get is
A fleeting image
But sometimes there’s more
Entire scenes open up
Under my eyelids
But as soon as I realize it
They are gone
Then I get up so
I can move on to another project.
Because this creative force
Will not let me rest.
I’m in a strange place
But I don’t know it
Because I know my way around.
I’m walking down a road
I can run for 3 or 4 miles
At an athletic pace.
Later I will ask myself,
“Where is this place
That I know so well?”
Because I’ve never been there.
But right now I can feel the wind
And the ground contacting my feet.
I don’t try to understand
How I got here
It’s just a natural place
For me to be
Suddenly I am ripped from this place
And it dissolves before my eyes.
Even my eyes vanish
And the wind and my feet.
And I realize I’ve been dreaming
Of one of those familiar places
That I can only visit
In the dream world.
I close my eyes
And I see darkness
But within that void
There’s an onslaught
Of shapes, images, lights,
And other worlds.
A dark shape
Wearing a fedora
Approaches on the lower left.
A black shape surrounded in blackness
But highlighted by a golden shimmer.
He stays there for several moments
And I wonder if he has a message for me
But he just stands there, faceless.
Words appear on a page
That I cannot read.
They taunt me
Seeming almost readable
But slipping from my grasp.
An infinitely small point
A small speck of nothing
Hurtles toward me
Until I recognize it as a number
Whose meaning I cannot guess.
It grows in size until
It’s as large as my head
Then passes through me.
Glowing lights roll past
Yet they pause to look
Back at me
As they wonder what I am.
Perhaps in their reality
I am just a random image, thought, or sound.
Maybe I’m as incomprehensible to them
As they are to me
But they are real
And I know I’ll see them again.
When I close my eyes
We’ll stop to gaze at each other
I look at each of them
Each one around me
Standing sitting working driving
Going about their daily activities
I never thought about it before
In a moment of clarity
I see through the camouflage
And they're plastic
Alive but not really there
Conscious but not completely
Some teeter on the edge of awareness
In a dream and thinking
But unaware of the dream
I left my body
And took a stroll around my house
No transcendental experience
No communion with God
Just walked down the hall
Petted the cat
And walked through
The front door
Without opening it
Now today I can't see everyone
The way I did before
I sit on the floor
In my own plastic body
Trapped for the moment
The clarity comes and goes
And I even forget
And go back into the dream
But now I know
And knowing means
I can't forget
As I get swept up in life
On the physical plane
A few days before writing, "The Plastic People," I fell asleep on the couch reading Seth, Dreams, and Projection of Consciousness. When I woke up around 3am, I realized it was about the right time of night to attempt projection. I went to bed, and laid on my back, hands at my side.
Each time I would completely relax, I would start to feel myself hit the in between state, but then either another cat would jump on me or I would be jarred by my wife. Somewhere in here, I thought about how we have a fortunate circumstance where the bed is pointed North and I tried to visualize that helping me out. I finally got frustrated and rolled over on my right side. It may have been here where I thought about my head being North.
But then I thought I might as well relax one more time and I dropped right into a weak lucid dream. I thought I was out of body at first, but if I was then it wasn't here at the house. As I fell through the darkness, I came upright, and outside. Things were very dark and I was having trouble maintaining focus.
I traveled around the back of the house towards some trees and a small fenced area that could have been the fence around a dumpster. I also have the impression of a few people and an old Firebird, the kind with the 80's flaming bird. However, everything was only half there, and none of it was actually in my yard. Seth had said to just explore your own house at first so you get comfortable being out of body. Instead of doing that, I was in some sort of dream world. I realized that this wasn't what I wanted and snapped back, either to my body or just awake, but with my eyes still closed.
I tried to project again, and this time, I got it. I was out and standing in our bedroom. It seemed very real with no distortions. I didn't look back at the bed, unfortunately. I drifted down the hallway up to the place where a blue LED night light is plugged in. Bailey, our cat, was there and he could see me and he wasn't sure if he should be afraid or not. I came down right to the floor and petted him, which seemed to calm his nerves.
Then, I went out into the living room and went right up to the front door. I pushed up against it, trying to ease right through it. I stopped with the door halfway though me, and I remember some sort of sparkling effect.
I believe this is where I snapped back to my body and opened my eyes. I think I went back into some sort of dream state after this, but I can't remember what happened. I may have returned to the place with the people and the Firebird.
I spent a great deal of the time over the next few days thinking about what had happened. For years, I've wanted to have an OOBE, but have had limited success. This was so simple and so real. My thoughts weren't a debate about the validity of the experience – I was sure it had really happened. Instead, I was struck by what it had further proved to me, that we are non-physical beings inhabiting a physical body, playing out our roles in life.
All I could think about was the way that being back in my body felt something like being back in your clothes after being naked. I felt like I was just plastic and so was everyone else around me, but the difference was that I knew it and they didn't. This realization made it difficult to concentrate for many days, but the feeling faded with time. That feeling and conflict led me to write this poem.
You’re still there
I go to the cabinets
I go to the fridge
I convince myself that
I don’t even know what I want
But you are there
I read what you wrote so many years ago
And I’m amazed at it
Smoothly with a taste of Angels
You wrote that
Your influence has been increasing lately
By many standards, it is a small influence
It even seems logical
The way you say it
Have a beer
You make sense until about the third
And I rarely exceed that
So it seems only fair
I work hard
So what’s two or three beers
At the end of the day
But part of me remembers
Your stronger personalities
More dangerous things
Like Wild Turkey
Vodka, Rum, Jack Daniels
Those smooth tranquilizers
Are harder to stomach these days
But back then I could barely stand
The taste of beer
Ah the taste of it
Now I love it more than any other drink
I remember how bad I thought it was
When I was a kid
But now somehow you taste amazing
In that form
What bothers me
Is the daily enchantment
Ending the day with a mind
German pint bottles are the best
But Icehouse will do
As it does now
But every day!
Every single day with rare exception
I ignored you one day recently
You took offense
And your retaliation was brutal
I had a long sleepless night
And your voice grew louder
You even sounded logical again
A quick shot of Jack
To drown out the pain
Of lying awake in bed
But I made it through the night
Only to encounter you on the next
Yesterday I read what we wrote nine years ago
Almost ten really
I forgot that you were a daily voice
How long has this been going on?
I can remember stretches of time
But how long?
And how many?
I don’t know
I am your main affliction
You have others, but I’m in charge of them
Coffee in the morning
To send you to the moon
After I’ve sent you to sleep
Then you go on to the battle with food
You did very well
With refusing carbs
For so long
But then that helped you refuse me
So I put a stop to that
I put little whispers in your mind
How about Jack and Diet Coke?
No carbs in that
Brilliant wasn’t it?
It took the advertising agencies years
To copy that one
That was 1999 after all.
But now, I’m in control again
What’s a piece of chocolate here and there?
One piece or 5, it’s all the same
Dark chocolate is fairly low carb
I know you see the weight creeping back on
And you blame the carbs
I’ve got you where I need you
At the end of the day
You are worn down
From a day of
Troubleshooting, problem solving
You come home beat up
And I don’t even have
To pull a fast one
To get you to the fridge
I’m bottled or canned
But you prefer me in glass
Especially glass stamped $2.52 from Kwik Liquors
Weihenstephaner Hefe Weisse
Nothing like a German
To carry you away from your
Daily moronic dealings
I build a buzzing wall between you
And your troubles
Sometimes you tell me you will leave
But I know better
You can’t do it
You’re weak and you’re mine
No, you don’t know what you’re talking about
Just tonight I was thinking of making this the last
But then again, so was last night
After tonight, I could see how long
We could stay apart
Hmmm, dangerously worded
That implies that we might get back together
You know we will, so why even try?
But there is more of you in the fridge
I spent money on you so I can’t
Just throw you away
See how logical I am?
I know, it will be easier to stay away from the store
To not spend any more money on you
Finish up what’s in the house
There’s a fifth of Cuervo in the cabinet
I bet if I drink that fast, we won’t talk
For a very long time
Ooh, that’s not fair
How about you make up a bunch of
Lime Jello with that Tequila?
Or some frozen margaritas?
Wow, that sounds really good
Where do you get your ideas?
I’m convincing, what can I say?
From stillness comes
A little voice
But growing unstoppably
Until it can no longer be ignored
Then still growing until it drowns out
All other thoughts
It knows what it wants
And it means to get it
It doesn’t care about you
Only about itself
It convinces you that it will bring pleasure
But the only reward is its silence
Your sense of taste is enslaved
To its bidding
On an empty stomach it penetrates quickly
Washing away your senses
It tells you that drinking more
Will make it feel even better
Until you are lost in it
Unable to think
Consciousness fades out
Disturbed sleep takes over
Tossing and turning
Pain and nausea
Awake in the morning
With anger at having listened again
But the voice is gone
That’s it, never again
Today starts a new leaf
The nights will be more productive
Screw the voice
Later in the day
From stillness comes
A little voice
Growing to crescendo
It must be silenced.
We are threads woven in an infinite fabric
That stretches into eternity in all directions
The strands are without beginning and without end
Our paths cross unnumbered other threads
Others run parallel with us and never intersect
Each of us is connected to the others
All are one within this tapestry of existence
Yours is the thread next to mine
You are there, by my side, transcending time
Under clear blue skies, a gentle fall breeze passed almost silently around me. With the temperature in the low 60's, the air was perfect and now free from the haze of summer's humidity. This was our first October in our new house. We knew that the panoramic views from here were stunning, but it was especially beautiful today. Built on reclaimed strip-mine land, our two and a half acres are surrounded by open, rolling spaces which seem to have been carved from somewhere besides southern Indiana.
My wife Sarah and I arrived at my mom's house in the late afternoon on the Fourth of July, a Thursday. Our plans for the evening included attending the Saline County fireworks display in Harrisburg, Illinois as we have for most of the last few years. Heat, humidity, and a complete lack of wind made the air seem like solid matter that created its own kind of drag as we walked. While it wasn't as hot as it could have been,
Endless vistas of exploding frogs
Spreading through the darkened corners
Consuming night and convoluting
My mind's awareness of the physical
My gentle drifting off to sleep
Becomes a rush of vivid color
Unveils a landscape dark and red
Maybe a dream, perhaps a vision
A large black wolf slithers up to me
His eyes betraying evil sentience
To his humor, he lowly rumbles
"I know how it all comes out"
His hot breath penetrates my soul
I wonder at his words and he says
"I'm from a place lacking time
Where all existence is at once
"I'm a messenger from the realm
From before life and after death
I know who dies and when and why
I've seen the pains of your whole life
"When passing through your dreaming lands
Where in one you find me lurking
Standing, glaring with my sneering smirk
Then brace your heart, a death is near
"I'm just a player in the endless vista
A vital member of life's game
I should not be a creature feared
I mark the path that takes you home"
Glazing the surface,
just out of reach,
yet pulling from the core.
Dimensions touching lightly
yield tiny scraps.
At the tip of consciousness by day,
it pulls me away at night
to allow a visit there.
Fourth hour roamings
free of gravity's pull
mutter blurry stories.
by returning to reality.
Something surrounds us
that most cannot see,
holding existence in all its forms.
just out of reach
yet pulling from the core.
Burning desires roar within.
Will success and love be found?
Immediate wants lurk infinitely driving
Eating the silence of me
Sleep's majesty absorbed with open eyes
The curse of the firstborn....
Pursuit of the parchment yields confusion
While the answer lies in dusty corners
Covered by tradition and blindness.
It screams my name
begs my presence
demands inner attention
and pulls at the depths of being
Only a father's wishes could keep someone
The voice is right and it has won
Change sneers on the horizon...
an evil grin
and after only four years.
In May my adventure ends
I am here
knowing you as you know me
I pull at you and infiltrate you
One ounce or twelve, it is all the same.
I calm the burn, the desire, the frustration of
Let me take you away
Smoothly with a taste of angels.
Let me be your endless vista
Numbness flows in apathy's river.
Why feel it?
I'm the enchanted land of childhood
Lands of your control and others of torture.
That swirl of mind
That chaos of consciousness
You are the voice
calling my name
telling me things I shouldn't hear
about trains, liquor, and laziness
I know you are there
Daily invasions mark your method
You ask so much
And give so little
Why are you there
Stop tormenting me
You ask so much
Knowledge of true reality grips me
Unlike other people
Other voices speak truth
I only hope that I listen to them
before I listen to you.
Explodes with its
Deteriorate with the
Expulsion of night's
As light gives
Always knowing it's not
Darkness will reign
Absolved of its inherent
Creation in hopes of
Yes, this was from high school and was written to help memorize an answer key to a test that the teacher had foolishly given us to look at overnight a couple months prior.