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Thursday, March 19, 2015


Origin tale


The first principle is in fact the most important principle.  In our world today there is nothing that is taken for granted as much as art.  The irony of this being that art is the basis of all things that humanity has ever contributed to this earth.  Using the logic that it is claimed we all possess, try and rationalize now.  Would there be language were there no cave drawings?  Were there no language would the sciences exist, no science would there be medicine? This tree can go on forever and ever.  Why?  The root is art, the root is creation, more so the desire to create and the need to understand the creations of others.
Sometime a very long time ago, mankind decided that it wasn’t content living and dying without leaving something for others to learn from.  Somehow connecting himself to the future through more than just procreation.  And thus the first cave drawing is made.   This is a level of human development and growth.  The desire to exist beyond the confines of your current shell.  This is the realm of Gives Stink Through Rhythm, through her this need is affirmed.  Not many people know this, but she used to be a pretty drab girl.  Downright dour. 
Day in and day out she would remake the same landscapes, the sun would come up and it would go down.  There were no seasons then, no concept of temperature or even feeling.  The place moved like an automaton not being driven by anything, not being halted and not truly living at all. Disheartened she would float through the Universe without a form, without the very will to actually sustain one.  Just a lifeless lump of stink that could’ve been more. 
The Great One of the Most Stink saw this and knew then and there that this creature must be given a renewed lease on being.  She was stifled, chained by the bounds of her own lack of limitations. Somehow, yes, somehow, she must be set free. This became the greatest puzzle and ultimately the only one that ever really mattered when all was said and done. How, oh how? How do you free a creature that has no bounds except for the ones of their own making? 
The rationale was surprisingly simple. Since the Great One of the Most Stink sees and knows all past, present and future the answer was discovered while observing the odd earthbound creature known as a cat. It was in essence the problem of herding cats. Cats don’t herd well because they have no similar tendencies other than the state of being a cat.  And being a cat means that the utmost concerns are self reliance and comfort.  Cats are most self reliant and comfortable when they are being true to their natures’.  Which relates directly to appeasing all matter of ‘in the moment’ discoveries. Cats pay attention to anything they please which means they pay attention to everything making a day an exhausting endeavor. But cats are free from the machinations of their limitless perspectives.  Why? Because at no point and time do they let everything they can do get in the way of actually doing it.
She was drab and dour, never knowing when, where or even how to start. The problem with being without limitations is that there is no form to assume.  There is no criteria for right or wrong, there is no justification for up or down.  There is just the is, just the void. There is no comfortable spot.  But couldn’t you make it?  With a wide array of everything available on your plate the plate can have nothing at all or everything you want.  Choices must be made.
So the Great One gave her a task, a simple, simple task.  Build me place, a place where all color lives, build me a place where all thought is alive, build me a place where fanciful creatures strive, build me a place where anything can survive. 
With the chant ringing in her being, giving life to her form she gave herself hands so she could shape these creatures, she built herself eyes so she could see the colors.  She gave herself legs to move through the terrain, she gave herself a back to support her legs, she gave herself arms to move her hands, gave herself a head to hold her eyes, put the head on a neck so she look away as she worked, gave herself a nose to smell the life.  And finally she gave herself a voice to make it all sing.
With this voice she declared the first principle. 

To exist is to create, I create my own existence.

First there was rain, water fell from the sky, then came the winds to move it as she saw fit, on to warmth, cold, brisk and dusk.  Then the stars the heavens, moons and mass.  Leave it open for more things to inhabit as I comprise.
This loosed the beast of creation into the Universe, the void rapidly filling with wonders untold.  She carried on and on creation after creation.  Her worlds multiplied and compounded straining into and out of each other without rhyme or reason. What was dark became light and quiet had sound, motion stopped and the still covered ground.

But why the creation of others?  Such a question that it confounds why would the creations of others hold any weight when one can create all.  She who Gives Stink Through Rhythm found this a conundrum that she could not get around.  She was greedy with creation taking it on as her realm and hers alone.  Her creations had actions repercussions and sequences that she ignored for the sake of always creating more. The nature of creation is forward never backward.  Creation is not a stability, it is a wave, motion moving forward an undulating reaction.  Her creations had creations, their own changes to document.  Soon the place was much too crowded.  Things interacted in unintelligible ways.  They bumped and bruised they clashed and strained.
The Great One observed what was unwittingly wrought. She was free, too free and now had boundaries in another way.  She needed a level, a place a function to see to.  The idea was to free her of all inhibitions and here she was now prisoner to one.  Fear of stopping, of creation ending. She had no concept of temperance, no thought for progression. An end in being a reason to start over and a reason to stop.
The Great One pulled from the gnashing the clashing and grating.  Pulled from the bumping, the grinding the bruising. Given form from conflict a mate to see to these ends. Thus He Who Reeks of Intent is born. The job was simple and they were bound as one.  For every mess is made let your will make it undone. No one knew more of the need for balance and temperance than he, the creation from the void of imbalance. Filled with purpose and scope, scale and desire, He Who Reeks of Intent created Plan.  He was swift and sharp as he held her in check, so well balanced they were, his force she couldn’t reject. Where she was creation changing and streaming, he was solidarity, the foundation for beginning.
He told her truthfully what the issue was with her endless creation.  No rhyme or reason, no path no course, such a foolish design. There must be a plan.  To make a plan there must be intent and intent is the consequence of purpose.  What end does your creation see to?
She was confused and torn not understanding the line of questioning. Purpose was a word that held no sway over her mind, no consequence to her creation.  But he insisted, what is the purpose to your creation?  He pointed to a cloud buzzing with lightening and rain. This creation of yours knows what to do, it sees to its end and gives reason to. He pointed to the grass that grew on the land, then to the animal that grazed on it there.

There must be purpose no matter how big or how small it is the responsibility of each creation to make it, its own.

Saddled behind her they moved through the Universe.  He shifted her spaces and closed her holes, he connected her dots and even fastened her clothes. There was a small hole that he didn’t close he left to be open.  She argued why would he leave it so.  He closed all her others, connected dots and shifted her worlds. Why this hole, why is it so special not to be closed.  So tiny it is it couldn’t really matter.  So tiny it is why would it not just go.  He had been waiting for this knowing she would demand that he explain.
This hole is open because it is too small to allow passage, it’s open because it has no connection to anything.  This hole is too tiny to do anything but be.  It is a reminder that sometimes creation is its own purpose and reason.  Creation has to be respected whether done by you or me.  This hole is the whole, the signature on the piece.
She didn’t understand the course the feeling behind his words.  They seemed foreign and tense.  He told her the way that the Great One created him.  We are bound one and the same, I am of you and you are of me. To deny any of you is to cut away from all of me. 


The Great One watched the couple that strife had created.  The woman confused by the nature of the bounds they shared.  So there would be a being that would show her the way.  One much like her living to create but in a different way.  From the symphony created by the swirling planets and stars she was formed seated on a comet, hair blazing with the tail, One To Stink for All blazed across the stars in front of the couple.  Without thought or consequences she came up to the hole and placed a strand of her hair there making it a star.
They only watched the spectacle as she flew on by.  By then He Who Reeks of Intent thought it odd enough to ask.  This had not been part of the plan.  And he couldn’t reverse the actions done by this new beast. It served no purpose, it left nothing in its place. Why would you leave a part of yourself there?  Doesn’t it belong to you with you?
With a smile and a laugh that echoed thorough the abyss she chastised him as silly.  We are all one, one and all I am you and you are me, where you are big I am tall.  I span this plane in every breath, I span this space in every spot.  I see you there and see me there all holding firm.  Where I to go you go with me whether you want to or not. I exist because you do and the opposite is true.

To destroy you I destroy myself so I must give to you.

She Who Gives Stink Through Rhythm finally understood.  Creation needs purpose but purpose needs giving without both there is no creation.  The song of creation hummed through her as the words from this new entity vibrated in the corners of the universe. He Who Reeks with Intent contemplated her oddly.  So is this part of the plan?  He wondered. Creation then plan so that it is prepared to be gifted.  As I give unto her I give onto me, as I am the same as she before me, I am the same as she is far away from me. 


Gives Stink Through Rhythm called for He Who Reeks of Intent to be silent letting the song of One To Stink for All ring clearly in the distance. Without a thought they both moved to find the source of the song.  She was somewhere near yet far echoing along.  There was something more they needed to know from her.  Something else her song was trying to say. The message was clear yet unspoken, almost like a wisp of air.  They followed far and long and eventually caught up to her.  As she sang she built, pulling locks from her hair, parts of her arms, patches of her legs, bits from her comet and finally the largest piece from deep within her chest. She stacked and shaped, clumped and dumped as she sang to herself.

If you want to learn a song you must listen to it play
If you want to hum the words you must know what they say
If you want to stay in pitch you must find the proper key
If you want to sing it well you must know the melody
If you want to do it right you must think in symphony
If you want to make your own song you must embrace harmony
Because the only way to make a song is in synergized unity
Let creation and purpose meld with giving for the sacred trinity

You understand, she asked. 

You can’t know until you learn and you can’t learn something that you aren’t listening to.

They watched as he was born, Stink That Stands Alone.  One To Stink for All sang a song to grant him life:

So that someone always knows the song of unity
I build you now with my parts of dubious impunity
As I always sing I need someone who always hears
As we are one, I’ll be your voice if you will be my ears
As I move through this plane shall you stand still
Learning is a thing of balance not a trial of will
Listen to the lessons being sung in this open space
Let the song of harmony state and declare your grace

They watched as he shook off the stardust and debris.  Standing tall and firm he nodded to the three.   The couple that strife produced regarded him loosely as One Who Stinks for All continued on her way.
Leave him be, she said as she left, he’ll always be as he is listening to every breath.  When you forget the song because you’re lost in your own creations, he’ll be the one to make sure it’s sung no matter the occasion.


The Great One of the Most Stink was pleased with the helpful addition made by One Who Stinks for All.  The mistress of unity was correct and yet short sighted on one simple avenue.  With the rate of which she gave herself away for the cause what would happen when she was all used up?  This was an instance The Great One knew could not happen.  Knowing they were ready to create a being that would help, The Great One turned to the couple strife created to see what they had learned.
She will burn out in time, she is too sparse with her parts, she doesn’t create more she just shifts what’s there. Was what Gives Stink Through Rhythm told her purposeful mate.  What we need is a plan to balance her out, a place that repairs all that she’s forgotten about was his reply. Is it necessary to rhyme, asked Gives Stink Through Rhythm.  No got caught up in her ambiance, He Who Reeks of Intent admitted.
So the couple pondered on just what to create.  They thought long and hard about what would make things right.  They thought of what they learned.  Creation, with purpose became a gift to bestow on others. There must be balance and unity, they must know all parts of the song and appreciate all that put forth the effort to make it possible. The being that they created would have to be respectful, understanding, compassionate and more than anything else appreciative.
What do you appreciate about me, Gives Stink Through Rhythm asked her mate. He answered without hesitation, Your creations. And you me?  Your purpose.  With this in mind they took parts of her creation instincts, combined with a section of his focus, foundation and creation with the lessons learned about harmony.  She sang the song and he joined in as they took the parts from all around them and as they watched One That Stinks For All had done before they fashioned creature from nothing.  The creature was still and didn’t move, and they stared wondering what to do. The song that always sang became higher pitched Stink That Stands Alone looked pointedly at the couple and with a slight gesture pointed to his own chest.
What is the song about, Gives Stink Through Rhythm asked.  Love was his answer. They pulled the new being closer and as one they pulled from their selves and thrust it into the other. Newly born this creature cried in out in her first breath.

Only through love is appreciation gained and only through love can it live.

The new creature built was a salve to the place in ways that creation and purpose couldn’t be.  She rearranged matter, developed time and gave the space leniency. Sharps were blunted and straights would bend, the healing spray of diplomacy. Creation had longevity and would sustain.  Plans had a pace that they followed and would maintain. The song was clearly timed and paced, the melody so very clear now.  She swopped and dipped dancing lively to the new found sound. Strings flew from her fingertips connecting here and now.  They even flew behind her to capture what had passed.


Pleased with themselves the couple enjoyed their creation.  They watched in humble acceptance of the things that changed.  But soon it wasn’t enough for Gives Stink Through Rhythm to watch.  She grew restless and bored watching her creation have all of the fun.  So she stared creating again as she had before foolishly done.  Because he was enrapt with their newest gift, He Who Reeks of Intent didn’t even notice. It wasn’t till the new creation began to cry in earnest did he pause to see what has so distressed this lovely creation of theirs.
Then he saw what had happened to break their creations heart.  The careless disregard for what she had created as Gives Stink Through Rhythm systematically destroyed it.  Her lines were breaking and her balance was ending.  Time was morphing and disarray was happening.  He Who Reeks of Intent became solemn, not sure how to combat this problem.  It seemed inevitable that as soon as this stopped it would just begin again. Then he noticed that silently from his post, One Who Stinks Alone was offering him a hand.
He looked into the hand of the one who would never speak and took the offering that he presented to lay at their feet.  I see now, he thought as the cries grew deafening behind him. There has to be another creation that tells us of the past.  One that lets us know what we can’t repeat what has come and gone.  The true path and plan should go forward never back.
He looked at the offering that came from One Who Stinks Alone himself and added in his memories of what had come before.  He sealed it up with his will so that it didn’t leave.  In this creature would be the pain he had been breed in.  In this being is the pain creation can wreck. It would know the song and know the words because of the one who always listens.  He added the will to harm those who refused to hear.  Force upon them the very pain that they stand to inflict.  In this way and only this way will there be balance.
He rose like a wraith such a frightful creature, his feature dark and countence untenable. He went to Gives Stink Through Rhythm and she immediately stopped.  She jerked once and fell into a stupor.  He turned to the other who was crying still and gave her much the same.  He then went through methodically and rendered everything new.  As they woke each one they knew what had passed, time was in place again and they were repentant of their crimes.
The couple regarded their creation feeling shameful for their acts.  So selfish was their thoughts they hadn’t even bothered to give her a name, thus she was dubbed for all time Stink Which Carries On.
As for the other they couldn’t explain. The Great One knew only he would be able to name him.  This creature they fostered was necessary.  A creation in response to a creation. Only the Great One had the concept of the past, created when Stink Which Carried On made time.  So he dubbed this new beast What Once Stunk Stinks Again.  He knew his name and answered instantly.

Don’t forget your past just leave it where it lies

The past belongs in the place it was breed, a mistake now gone that generates wisdom instead. None of the others knew what this past was, they merely understood that the activities they participated in made terrible options.  They knew that they didn’t want these things to happen again.  No regret just knowledge of what not to do. They carried it with them so that they would never forget this pain from what they did.


The Great One of the Most Stink admired what had been created.  Everything was accounted for save the one thing that they all had so they didn’t miss.  Grace.  With this in mind, the others were beseeched and each made an offering from the depths of their beings.  The thing that they believed in most, Creation, Purpose, Giving, Listening, Appreciating, Rectifying and they put it together to bestow to the far reaches of the Universe.  The Great One merely blew over it and out she sprang fully formed, the things they believed in most, the Stink That Will Not Die, their sweet pungent Stink of Ages.  Like newly formed light she infused the others with all that she was, the peak of all of their wills combined.  Through this they were fortified, joined and made whole.  Each realm connected joined from the couple that strife created to the unsavory valleys of deeds gone past.  From the tendrils binding all together to the singing and listening to the song of creation.
She observed all around her and declared for all to hear.

All you believe in with all of your being makes me the best of you

All The Parts

There are so many parts of us that should be seen to and kept
From the top of our heads to the tips of our toes with each aching breathe
The broad side of us against the narrow core of us
The breadth of us to the very shallow of us

All another piece that comes together to make the whole
From the memories we keep now and lose as we grow old

To the muscle that powers our moves
To the tissue that DNA provides and proves

So I must choose a keeper for my many parts
Is it possible to find just one to update so many charts

So one I choose to care for my body
With you thirst will be seen to whether pure or bawdy

Another I'll entrust with my mind to keep it young and fresh
Each day should be full of knowledge clean with wash and dress

So that leaves my heart for you to insure that it always beat
Fill my life with love that can be felt from head to feet

So that leaves just my soul that I can't seem to fit to a tutor
Perhaps that one is just for me to look after and succor

If there was just one keeper how idea would that be
Just one person to see to all the ends that make up me
It's a dream I can't fulfill, one that has no true match
So I'll try to see to the whole with one by one patch

But the thought always lingers that if there is but only one of me
And with all my parts gathered close to cause me to be
There must exist the other end that looks out with such disheart
Knowing that there must be one who can see to all the parts

Tuesday, March 17, 2015

The Stages of Woman

Our mothers they teach us to be who they are and as penance we lose our first love

Our friends beseech us to act as they desire and for this we lose our next love

Our loneliness forces us to discover that we can only be what we are and within find our last love

As we stop craving the love of those that crave only our pain.  As we stop seeking that for which only wants to give us our fondest desire of being destroyed. Fascination with being put out of our misery begins to fade.

As we finally look within for what cannot be found without. As we finally look within to the cradle of the truest deception.  The whispers are clear and ever growing louder as we face what all have tried to hide.

Who said that I was flawed, who claimed that I was without.

So hard to believe that they didn't deserve you, much easier to believe that you are the problem.

You only get back what you put out.

Have I, all this time been the maker of my own pain.  Have I, just now begun to realize that I am worth so much more than they say. worth so much more than I say.

so much more than they say, so much more than I say, more than they say, more than I say, than they say, than I say, they say, I say

I say,  I am a woman, I say I am worth so much more than you will ever know, I say that I hold all of who I am, while you hold none. I am strong enough to yield and fierce enough to give, I am hardy so I will stand and I am confident so I will rise to any challenge.

I am. . . .power. .  I am. . . .joy . . . . .peace. . . . . I am. . weakness  I am. . .undeniable . . boundless . .  I am force. . truth. .  submission . . .decadence. .  I am . . .malleable . . .distraction. . I am  absolution . . mystery. . . .I am. . . .temptation . . . . .rejuvenation . . .exaltation . .  I . . .loyalty . . . .am. . . .reckless. . . .imperfect. . . .I . . . . love . . . . human . . . am. . destruction  . . .rebirth .  . .life. . . .
I     am    flawed.

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