“War”

7/29/22

You don’t need

a Ketamine drip

to talk to God

or a fifth of Jack

to take back

what’s rightfully yours.

 

Psychedelics

are a “rabbit hole”

to another dimension.

 

But what’s on the other side?

 

A conjuring

of your own mind

like a flying bus

or dragon

you can tame and ride?

 

Or how about

a terraformed planet,

pledged with the green blood

of “little green men,”

a megalomaniacal vivisection

in exchange for earthly bodies

to hide in plain sight?

 

Or something more ominous

like demons disguised

as angels of light?

 

Godspeed

if you’ve dropped your keys,

hat or hash pipe

into the “rabbit hole”

of delusive fantasy,

whirling and writhing down

an eternal abyss of insanity,

further and further away

from the drain of objective reality.

 

Alice’s quest to find answers

in Wonderland

is as promising as Sylvia Plath

resurrected to find faith and sobriety

at the next Burning Man.

 

So what should we make

of the Cheshire Cat’s quote

“Imagination is the only weapon

in the war against reality”?

 

Is imagination and reality

really at “war”?

 

Or is this just an incendiary claim

aimed at unsuspecting children

used to settle a personal score?

 

Don’t we understand

the more

we seek to escape

from the subterranean structure

of what’s real,

we become our own mercenaries

and steal our own joy

at being authentically

whom we were designed to be

in the presence of a real

life-and-blood deity?

 

All the while,

missing character-building opportunities

hidden along the road

of a razor-sharp reality.

 

Lewis Carroll,

ironically and unwittingly,

swallowed the sea

and choked on the apothecary’s

(Morpheus’s) metaphysical prescription

of the “red pill,”

remaining content

under the spell

of ignorance

from Goethe’s conviction,

“Few people have the imagination for reality.”

 

So are we the philosophical few

or those who view

the debate as an either/or fallacy?

 

Aren’t we called to gather and sew

opposed to those who tear

and pluck the grey hairs

from the braided fabric

of the quintessential freedom

to suffer in ecstasy?

 

Imagination is a gift from above

but not at the expense

of the space-time continuum

called love.

8/8/22

Friends feed the inherent desire in every single one of us to be seen and heard and remembered. And that makes us feel immovable and immortal as if the universe itself came alive to witness a miracle. And nothing we say or do will ever be forgotten. (This hints at the foreshadowing of a personal relationship with the ultimate Being—immovable and immortal—who is closer to us than a brother and who created us to know Him and to be known by Him.) But what if this convivial concept of friendship escapes us?

Read More »

7/29/22

Godspeed

if you’ve dropped your keys,

hat or hash pipe

into the “rabbit hole”

of delusive fantasy,

whirling and writhing down

an eternal abyss of insanity,

further and further away

from the drain of objective reality.

Read More »

7/22/22

Our reassurance

is His willingness

to be caught in the cross hairs,

a red dot

at the intersection

of an atoning fare

and a predetermined time-slot.

Read More »

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