thru schizoaffective eyes

  listen to me sing

 https://youtu.be/2aRTiVFQi9M https://youtu.be/2aRTiVFQi9M

  CW 11 I like to wake up early and listen to the crickets out my window I relish the silence, even the sound of a car going by seems somehow natural at this time of day. People may be rushing to get started but the sounds feel more calm but still electric in their exciting possibility. The air smells crisper. It is during this time when I like to sit and write. How is the meaning of Contemplative Writing different for me this morning? The sense of wonder is alive. Knowing I don’t know, but wonder means I still pursue the wisdom. CW is meaning the process for me. It finally sinks in that it is not a style of writing but a way.

How do the fireflies see my headlights? How does a bird view the shoreline? Little zipper he follows because from breakers fish rise. How does the fish see the trough beak, of a gliding pelican? Scooped up in a bucket then black. And how does the night see the day? Estranged friend, political opposite, unknown, unimagined, never touched, except two brief moments at dusk and twilight, sunset and sunrise when the light and dark mingle, and world’s spheres pull closer for such a fleeting short time. But noon will never know midnight. Noon will never reach out to midnight to comb her soft hair or invite him to dinner with no one else there. Noon and midnight are as distant as opposite ends so they dream and envision and write poems imaging their counterpoint has a wild side. Maybe noon sees midnight as risky and loud when in a peaceful place it’s just not true. Maybe midnight sees noon as too hot when in a temperate winter noon ca...

  2010 I remember conflict between me and other students, because of how I approached the world then. I remember a young woman named Brittany who was a Quaker who argued with me a lot. I remember arguing with Adam even though I wanted to be his friend, both of their friends. Experiences that stand out Folding a paper crane at Snug Hollow bed and breakfast How everyone interacted in that moment How I felt separate from others then especially but still was somehow glad and grateful for the experience. Walking on the snow down to the sport fields on day one Coming back and making a haiku Feeling emboldened because you kept encouraging my abilities I felt zero apprehension about whether or not I could do contemplative writing for the first time I just remembered a guy named Michael Huckstickler. Was he in that class? If so I remember him much more clearly in my peace and justice class. I barely remember him in CW. I remember a really ni...

  I am sleeping in the most beautiful dream I've ever had But I just realize waking life is being bombed and starved and interned What will I do? My sleep is almost perfect  But if I don't wake I cannot use my voice and platform  Use the remaining sliver of  Democratic liberty  To join forces And try to save this world