Relativity

In a reality of the limitless space
of an expanding universe,
where galaxy sized clouds of dark matter
move at right angles
to logical expectation,
how unimportant is the fact
that the neighbour’s dog
defecates on my lawn?

Desert Campfire

Outside the myopic circle
of light,
the Range Rover crouches
like some cubist sculptor’s tribute
to the humped beasts
the vehicle seeks
to replace.

The stars, just inches overhead,
act as ancient signposts
to the fabled secrets
of the Rub al Khali,
“The Empty Quarter.”

The restless dunes
huddle close,
then sprint for the horizons
of a very different reality.

The sand, coaxed by the night breeze,
sings its abraded song,
of death, of renewal,
of eternal change.

Echoes

This is based on a lady I saw going through the airport a while back.


The youthful twinkle,
through rheumy eyes,
belies her hag’s body
that transports vibrant spirit
through dwindling days
of this long journey.

This same spirit broke hearts,
and caused her young men
hot and fevered dreams.
She walked with pride,
and the secure knowledge
of who she was
and what she could do.

Memories of birth, death,
tragedy and joy,
were behind her now,
and her eyes reflected
the person she once was,
and, to her,
would ever be.

The Dream of A Crazy God

The Dream of a Crazy God

Grey O’Ryan woke in a state of panic induced by his terrible dreams. A sheen of cold sweat covered his body, and had dampened his bed. He lay there, trying to collect his thoughts, and quiet the adrenalin rush his dreams had brought on. The dreams were always similar in content, and had been occurring since he was a child. Recently, however, they had been increasing in both frequency and emotion. In these dreams the colours were not quite right, and, often were of hues that he had never seen before. The central figure in the dreams was not defined by a body of any sort, but rather by a feeling of intense sadness. Grey knew that this pivotal character was somehow intricately connected with him, with his life and his future. The sheer emotional weight of the character’s sadness and hopelessness always made Grey, in an observer role in this dream, feel overwhelmed, depressed and spiritually drained. His studies, at Halifax’s St. Mary’s University, were suffering. The book-work connected with his Political Science major was a mental load at best, but with the effect of his dreams Grey felt that he was unable to give his best to his academic pursuits. Grey had spoken at length with his mother, at the family home in Glace Bay, on Cape Breton Island, and she seemed to feel that the dreams were connected to his Celtic and genetic heritage. Magna O’Ryan was a latter-day Pagan, and had devoted her life to the study of pagan and ancient Celtic rituals and myths. Magna was the seventh, and last, daughter in the family of Eireann Burke, herself a seventh daughter. Magna had explained often to Grey her theory that the myth about the seventh son of a seventh son having strong psychic ability was the product of a male-dominated society changing the myth to detract from the truth. She believed that the Celts had been a matriarchal society, and the psychic gift was, in the past, practised and held by the women, not the men, of the Celtic septs. She tried to calm Grey’s concern by assuring him that the emotional intensity of the dreams would diminish in time, and, in the interim, advised him to try to discern the message that the dreams were trying to convey. Magna was convinced that there was an important message trying to reach Grey from his unconscious mind. Grey dressed, had a light breakfast, and headed out for his daily run around the Halifax Commons. The day was foggy and damp, and added a gloomy accent to his already negatively charged emotional state. His run did little to lift his spirits. Back at his flat, he sipped his coffee and read the daily paper. As usual, most of the news was depressing: a swarming in north-end Halifax, an armed robbery, with violence, in neighbouring Dartmouth, corruption at the highest levels of the United Nations, and the increasing quagmire of the United States foreign policy. Grey had long admired parts of the Hippie movement of the Sixties, and found it amazing that such a diverse group of young people had been able to change established society in so many ways. He looked on the Movement as sort of a modern Children’s Crusade, and, with the ongoing bad news a daily occurrence now, he often wished for a return to the peace and love of a gentler time.

**********

In a reality in a different dimension of Time-Space, where all the parameters of our reality are not applicable, there exists/existed/will exist a young entity who is extremely disturbed. His keepers have him sedated, and monitor his progress constantly. This youthful “god” had been, prior to his sedation, responsible for the destruction of almost countless realities containing billions of various beings. His keepers posited that the medication would eventually cure him, and deemed his incarceration necessary for the Cosmic Good. The immature entity moans in his troubled sleep. His vivid dreams frighten him, causing him to toss and perspire. He dreams of a small, beautiful green planet with blue oceans and wondrous white clouds. The tenants of this planet are exceedingly violent, and their technological development is based upon inventing new and unique ways to plunder their planet, or to wreck destruction upon their fellow beings. He “sees” through the eyes and mind of a young Canadian man named Grey O’Ryan. In the entity’s reality, this sharing of the senses is accomplished through a common act called harmonic kinship. The harmonic feedback engendered by this act occurring between realities is, however, driving both of the participants, host and parasite, into severe and irreversible psychoses.

**********

Grey O’Ryan woke crying bitter tears. His depression surrounded him as a dark and dense tangible cloud. Running to the kitchen, he violently opened the knife drawer, before slashing both of his wrists, and running, screaming, into the early morning street. Fast-acting paramedics were able to stabilise the young man’s vitals before the ambulance reached the QE II Medical Centre Emergency room. Before the day was out, he would be transferred to the Psychiatric Ward for confinement and Psych evaluation. His doctors are concerned about his screaming, and the ranting during which the young man shrieks incessantly, “The god is crazy, he’s crazy, he’s crazy, and he’s killing us all...killing us all...killing us...killing...”

**********

The young god screams once, and awakes. His keepers rush into his room, but are too late: the crazy god has willed himself out of existence. Meanwhile, far away in time, space, phase, and reality, a small green planet ceases to exist. And never really did.

**********

If Today Is All There Is

If today is all there is,
and Spring’s promise in the air
leaves Winter chill behind,
while a gentle southwest breeze
scours cobwebs from my mind,
     I am content.

If tomorrow I am gone,
I have known the love of family,
and the comfort of a friend,
the laughter of my children,
summer days that never end:
     I am complete.

Should tomorrow be without me,
my children understand
that they are one with me,
and the lives they live
will echo of my touch:
     I am part of them.

When the East wind blows tomorrow,
with the perfume of the sea,
the world will turn as ever,
no less for losing me.
My life as celebration:
     the way I chose to go.

If today is all there is
then I rejoice in all it brings:
I weep with each new sorrow,
and sing with each new joy.
I treat each day as Heaven,
     and today is all there is.

The Hippie Heritage

Driving to work today, I was listening to Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young singing “Four Dead in Ohio.” Those events of 4th May, 1970 came back to me instantly. I was in my last year of Naval Service, and on a Trade Course at Fleet Communication School in HMCS Stadacona. I watched the newsreel that evening, and was unable to understand how a nation could send armed soldiers against demonstrating students, killing four of them at Kent State University.

Since then, of course, the Hippie movement has faded from popular view, leaving only echoes of a popular philosophy that, in its’ heyday, seemed destined to change the world for the better. Some subscribers to the original philosophy, myself included, continue to believe that the world would be a better place if love and peace, rather than buy and acquire, were to become the leitmotif of a new Renaissance, in which the corporate bottom line would be reinvested in improving the world for all of us, in which we, the citizens, would respect the rights and differences of others, and condemn those who act to destroy a peaceful and caring environment.

Part of the Hippie Manifesto included, but was not restricted to, the following:
Rejection of established institutions, and the fact that such established institutions were not to be questioned, nor changed
Criticism of middle class values as sole arbiters of a moral and societal norm
Opposition to nuclear weapons and war in general
Consideration of various aspects of Eastern religions, and movement away from Judeo-Christian religions
Championing of sexual liberation and the responsibilities that such liberation entails
Founding of “intentional communities” and cooperatives
The wearing of non-traditional dress, especially ethnic, native-American, clothing and natural beads, bright colours, and tie-died Tee shirts
Espousing the use of natural psychedelic drugs (entheogens) such as marijuana, peyote, psilocybin, mescaline and LSD, in their search for universal understanding and fulfillment

After the debacle at Altamont, and because of the introduction of addictive drugs into an increasingly commercial (and outlaw) drug market, and an increase in enforcement violence and social wariness of the movement’s adherents (thanks, in part, to the likes of Charles Manson), true believers went underground. Various incarnations appear today, but they lack the sincerity of the originals, and are often mistaken for New Agers. Many have embraced their inner Boomers, say “thank you, sir” to the Man, and recycle only spasmodically.

Other than having formed my present persona in no small way, the Hippies have left us the following gifts that have, indeed, contributed to making our world a better place in which to live.

An awareness of other religions and cultures, and the fact that they have as much to offer as the Judeo-Christianity Western society.
Popularisation of a vegetarian lifestyle.
The belief that the Corporate Establishment is abusing Mother Earth, has brought about renewed interest in recycling and other environmental issues.
Interest in organic foods.
A mellow outlook on life, together with the belief that the temporal world is a manifestation of human thought and consciousness.
Elements of Romanticism and Transcendentalist philosophies have become more mainstream.
Less competitive forms of exercise have become popular such as hacky sack, Frisbee, dancing, surfing, and spin-sticks.
Mixed race relationships are completely accepted by mainstream society.
Female equality is well on the way to becoming a reality.
Increased interest in natural childbirth, breastfeeding, and raising children more lovingly and peacefully, and an ascendancy of the idea of the importance of the individual, and individuality.
Alternative media, including music, poetry, neo-comix, newspapers, art films, etc.
Open discussion of sexual matters in public media.
Acceptance of alternative lifestyles (gay, lesbian, transsexual).
A wide range of personal appearance options and clothing styles have become acceptable, all of which were uncommon before the hippie era.
Co-operative business enterprises and creative community living arrangements are widely accepted.
Interest in natural food, herbal remedies and vitamins is widespread.

As Jim Morrison is supposed to have said, “It ain’t the destination, man. It’s the trip.”