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Facebook Divinations

by Daniel Cooper Clark on Sunday, November 15, 2009 at 11:28pm

"Contradictions are complementary," said the scientist Niels Bohr. And on this very subject he said so very much more, like, "How wonderful it is that we have met a paradox." Niels took such great pleasure in thinking outside the box. "A great truth is a statement that is as true as its opposite," he courageously declared. No one else dared posit it. When his agitated opponents would put up a royal stink, he said, "We are in much greater agreement than you think." His conclusion from experiments where precision reigned A to Z "When it comes to atoms, language can only be used as in poetry." A philosopher among scientists, Copenhagen was his school. Niels Bohr was not a bore. Niels Bohr was not a fool.

Out of a Job
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Tuesday, November 17, 2009 at 7:05am

i'm out of a job my employer said so long gotta stop my sobbin might as well mow the lawn unemployment benefits all run out no more on the dole i don't even count does the darkest night

come just before the dawn

By Daniel Cooper Clark · Tuesday, November 17, 2009

I'm going to live forever, because I only live for today. Everything's getting better, because I let it be that way.

Bring You Bliss
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Sunday, November 29, 2009 at 7:42pm

Bless the morning bless the day bless the people on their way. Every day and every week may you find the love you seek. Every month and every year may you see and may you hear sights and sounds that bring you bliss. God is giving you a kiss.

The Music
By Daniel Cooper Clark · Wednesday, December 2, 2009

If I see the mechanics of infinity, but don't hear the music, it's no use to me.

Leapfrog Around
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Wednesday, December 2, 2009 at 7:14am

I was awakened by the barking of the birds, the ding-dong of the dogs, the chattering of the church bells, the smashing of the squirrels, the roar of the rocks, the twittering of the trucks.

The Name
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Wednesday, December 2, 2009 at 7:17am

A Name To Whisper, A Name To Whisper Whisper, Whisper, The Name, The Name. A Name With Drama! A Name With Drama! Drama! Drama! The Name! The Name!

Weird and Wonderful
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Wednesday, December 2, 2009 at 7:19am

it feels so weird to feel so wonderful why did i fear that you had come to pull me down into despair cuz now i'm in the air high up above the ordinary world flying in love with my sails unfurled weird and wonderful

The Usual Pictures
By Daniel Cooper Clark · Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Babies and kittens and sunsets are the usual pictures that one gets by email or Facebook or Twitter. If Aunt Flo sends me mo' I'll omit her!

By Daniel Cooper Clark · Wednesday, December 2, 2009

This morning I woke up out of a dream with a new word - PANJOY - universal happiness.

by Daniel Cooper Clark on Wednesday, December 2, 2009 at 7:29am

If matter is spirit and spirit is matter, then fatter is thinner and thinner is fatter, down is up and up is down, round is square and square is round, hot is cold and cold is hot, nothing is everything and everything's naught. If we deny duality, we ruin all reality.

By Daniel Cooper Clark · Wednesday, December 2, 2009

MEIKKIE Mantra: Everything Is Krishna - Krishna Is Everything

Im a Fool
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Wednesday, December 2, 2009 at 8:54pm

Im a fool cuz my wife says so Im a fool and she ought to know she sees my doin stupid things most every day and when Im doin nuthin Im just in the way so exceptin the exceptions that only prove the rule Im a fool

by Daniel Cooper Clark on Wednesday, December 2, 2009 at 8:57pm

You can have your London You can have New York I'll take Sebastian Where I live and work You can have your traffic You can have your noise I'll take Sebastian My haven of joys

Delirious Extravagances
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Wednesday, December 2, 2009 at 9:04pm

it ends in a pit of repulsive disgust when I gladly submit to my impulse of lust I drive to extremes in my quest for the crown I'm swimming upstream but it carries me down

Serving You
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Thursday, December 3, 2009 at 8:19am

If I could remember everything, I would surely be the king of the universe. If I could accomplish every task, so no one would ever have to ask, I could do much worse. If I could never make a mistake but I don't have the skill that would take so I'll keep on living while I concentrate on serving you.

Toilet Training
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Thursday, December 3, 2009 at 8:28am

The retention of stools is a social behavior imposed on the sensual body. Don't look like a fool! Don't lose Father's favor! Hold them in 'til you sit on the potty!

Someone Else
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Thursday, December 3, 2009 at 8:38am

I keep repeating my old pointless game It's all my own but stupid just the same If that's the best I can do by myself I'd better get some help from someone else I will not trouble you with all my woes I've got some dreary stories goodness knows And though some others dragged me down to hell I will not blame a thing on someone else My guilty pleasures are my favorite food But what I'm chewing is already chewed My journal sits alone on my bookshelf I've got to read a book by someone else

You wouldn't think I'd do this any more It gives me pleasure but it's such a bore Perpetuating something I once felt As if it's from the life of someone else Oh I might be the world's biggest fool I'm going nowhere stubborn as a mule Before the ringing of the old death knell I'd better change into a someone else Oh yes I need a new identity With understanding of Infinity And if I let me be a better self Then maybe I can help someone else

Country Girl
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Thursday, December 3, 2009 at 1:20pm

A dream: I'm on a train somewhere between New York and Philadelphia. Or perhaps it's a subway. I become aware of a person sitting in the seat to my right. I think it's a girl or a young woman. There's an atmosphere of purity about her. I feel shy. I don't feel right about looking at her, as if she's too sacred. She's singing something softly. Among the words I can hear "Krishna, Krishna." Her voice is bell-like and clear. Then, more loudly and very distinctly, she sings "Vishnu Bhakti." It fills my ears, my brain, my soul. The train stops. She gets up. I'm looking down and see her bare feet. Clinging to the soles of her feet there's dirt, but not city dirt - good earth, as if she'd been walking along a forest path. She's a country girl.

Dear Swamiji
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Monday, December 14, 2009 at 11:32pm

Dear Swamiji: This morning as I walked by the Christmas tree in our house, I found myself making a little bow with my hands in a prayerful position. Is this acceptable in your tradition? Dear Daniel: Yes, it is very nice. But why you are not bowing down to all trees?

A Book of Faces
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Monday, December 14, 2009 at 11:48pm

I can't hold it back any longer the total expression of the life force of the self out into the world united at last the inside becomes outside with all other inside-outsides complete oneness with everything the absolute freedom of transmission and reception of energies no more secrets "A yogi has no private life" the continuous interchange among multiplicities in one network of ecstasies.

My Body
By Daniel Cooper Clark · Wednesday, December 16, 2009

My body is not my enemy. But if I am my enemy, my body is a battlefield. And if I am my friend, my body is an instrument of peace.

so wonderful
By Daniel Cooper Clark · Friday, January 1, 2010

it is so wuhh-nderful to bring haaa-ppiness to ehhh-veryone oh yehh-s

Vaishnava Gold
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Sunday, January 3, 2010 at 9:46pm

For me, the literature of Vaishnavism is like a gold mine. From it we can extract the most precious substance. The nuggets in Sanskrit and Bengali have great value. But by themselves they're museum pieces, kept in a glass case, or in a secure box. To have a life in my world, they must be translated, as gold nuggets are made into gold ingots with comprehensible amounts

of value. Still, that is not enough. The ingots are still sitting inert, apart from my life as I live it. I want the gold to enrich my daily experience. So it must be fashioned further, into things of beauty - jewelry, or statuary, or perhaps gold leaf to enhance the beauty of furniture or other objects. The raw material must be made into works of art. The wealth of the past must be minted as coins of our present realm. The reworking of the gold does not change the gold itself. It is still a substance of great worth. In fact, the reworking of the metal makes it more valuable. It has gained both in beauty and utility. Its external shape has been altered, but its true internal composition remains the same. The Vaishnavism of the present day may not bear any immediate resemblance to the Vaishnavism of long ago. But show it to expert assayers. They will pronounce it one and the same in substance - Vaishnava Gold.

Emilia Japonica
By Daniel Cooper Clark · Tuesday, February 9, 2010

The only reason we have these eyes - to see the sights of Paradise -

Willy and the Fairie Queen
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Thursday, March 25, 2010 at 7:37am

Willy Nilly's gazing up into the sky, when he sees the Fairie Queen descending so close by. She walks to Willy grandly, holding in her hand a tender little flower in a golden bowl of sand. "Willy Nilly," she says, "Do you have the will to put this tender flower upon your window sill, and give it fresh spring water, a little every day?"

Willy Nilly does it. Then he hears the flower say, "Hear me Willy Nilly, fall under my spell. Look at all my colors. Sniff my fragrant smell. I love you, Willy Nilly. I love you oh so true. Kiss my velvet petals, and you will love me too. Join with me, my Willy. We'll have a flower child, a multicolored damsel, half human, growing wild. Animal and plant she'll be, a mythological mix. You and I will save the world with our genetic tricks." "Oh my lovely flower," Willy Nilly says, "Your intoxicating words have gone right to my head. I'll marry you my dear, in the church this afternoon. And then we can make love underneath the moon." They populate the Earth with a wonderful new breed, the Hybrid Kingdom people, growing like a weed. All disputations vanish. All weapons rust away. Peace and love and harmony have finally won the day. So this is how the world becomes a better place, with leafy flower people, a blooming human race. Green stems are a-swaying above dancing, prancing roots, because the Fairie Queen puts Willy to good use. The moral of this fable is, amalgamation's good, whether it be physical or merely understood.

Appreciate this fact of Life: we are all next of kin. All living forms are Consciousness no matter what the skin.

Hate Me As I Walk To My Death!
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Sunday, April 11, 2010 at 10:07pm

I've been wrong all these years made deception my career. It confirms my darkest fears that I'm a fool. I've made it look like I'm all right, and kept the truth just out of sight, serving up gemutlichkeit like Mr. Cool. Oh, I've been slier than a fox, hid my secrets in a box, secured with demon locks, encased in lead. But - I've been outed! I'm a liar. So before my sins mount higher, construct my funeral pyre. I'm better dead.

by Daniel Cooper Clark on Sunday, April 11, 2010 at 11:33pm

Having tasted loving service of Lord Krishna's lotus feet, there is nothing that will swerve us. There is nothing half as sweet.

Promo for Plan of the Insightful J71
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Tuesday, April 13, 2010 at 11:24am

We're living in the world of the future, and my dear you couldn't be any cuter in our personal rocket transport, going to the Moon for low-gravity sports while back home the robots are housekeeping, and the children are peacefully sleeping, getting programmed with DreamTeacher's knowledge. At age ten they'll be going to college! We've worked hard to achieve this control. They say that people used to grow old! Now our bodies are perpetually youthful, until our employment is no longer useful to the evolving Plan of the Insightful, and it's our turn to get recycled. Oh what joy, as our parts are redeemed to build a bigger and better Machine!

Jeweled Trees
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Sunday, April 18, 2010 at 9:20pm

On the shore edge of Actuality, by the deep ocean of Potentiality, beyond what any one of us can see, is the secret place of She and He, where they keep their love a mystery, even out of range of Spirituality, though nothing is above Spirituality, where they give us their love compassionately, playing delightful games of such ecstasy, in a riverside forest of jeweled trees.

Nice Thoughts and Noble Ideals
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Thursday, May 6, 2010 at 8:04am

Nice thoughts and noble ideals flow through my fingers to the page. But who can live a perfect life? Not me, not now. Anyway it's a good thing I can't be perfect. The impurities, bless them, humble the arrogant spiritualist. As my life snakes around, it must follow maps that contradict the design of my private utopia. Still, my beliefs stand firm. They're the destination, no matter how many detours I take. Somewhere, sometime, I will live that way. You can't take that away from me. In my present practice, this is how I mix the ideal and the real: by minimizing the harmful, maximizing the helpful, and making a lot of mistakes along the way. I do want my daily life, despite its clumsiness, to be the substance of my philosophy. I offer my idealistic words merely as supporting evidence - testimony about the meaning of my life as a whole. In the end, whatever theory or philosophy I advance has no independent worth. The value resides in my actions.

The Lovely Saint
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Thursday, May 13, 2010 at 6:15pm

"Don't look at my face," she said. "My face is too pretty and if you look at it you will not want to see the face of God." But I was already looking at her face and I couldn't stop. "Don't hold my hand," she said. "My hand is too graceful and if you hold it you will not want God to take your hand." But I was already holding her hand and I couldn't stop. "Don't kiss my cheek," she said. "My cheek is too rosy and if you kiss it you will not want to taste the sweetness of God's love." But I was already kissing her cheek and I couldn't stop. She was a saint, always talking of God, so that I knew no difference between her and God, and felt that my love for her was my only chance for salvation, and I couldn't stop.

The Core
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Monday, May 17, 2010 at 9:54am

Concerning intoxicants, Prabhupad said, "We have got the come-down tendency." What goes up must come down. Action and reaction. How to go beyond that? After all, we must have our ecstasies. Consider this. The core of any specific material ecstasy is a specific spiritual ecstasy. I can discover that spiritual core by probing deep into the material ecstasy while in the midst of feeling it. Not while pondering it before or after, but while deep into it. That's where the core is. It's no good to deny it or reject it or suppress it. I'm doing it, I have been doing it, I must face it. I have to accept it and get into the core of it. It may seem at first that the core is nothing other than delusion. But ultimately the spiritual heart can be found. Yes, this requires the proper intention and discipline, but it can be done. There is a definite spiritual realization/experience corresponding to the features of the material ecstasy, whatever the type of intoxication, whether it's drugs or liquor or sex or money or power. For me, the core reveals itself as words that I repeat later in the form of a mantra, to keep the realization and the experience alive. I'm not necessarily talking about a traditional mantra. It may be something unique to my life situation, that doesn't apply to someone else. It's personal. But the process is universal. When I identify and later repeat the spiritual ecstasy, then I don't have to repeat the material ecstasy. I don't have to come down.

Maybe In The Dark
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Thursday, May 27, 2010 at 7:33pm

I accumulate money, and generate thoughts. But I haven't the cunning to transcend what rots. My tangible body is made up of time, out of atoms revolving in samsaric decline. I possess a body,

but who is it who's me? May I ask who is calling? Just the wind in the trees? I'll try to look, with my eyes closed. Maybe, in the dark, it glows.

by Daniel Cooper Clark on Thursday, June 3, 2010 at 11:02pm

Music and art open your heart, hearing and seeing into your being. Swim in your dreams! Follow their streams until they open into the ocean.

I Forgive You
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Saturday, June 5, 2010 at 7:53am

driving up I-5 from Tijuana in the old Mazda Rotary 12A my new ex-wife and I did what we wanted untied the knot and we were really feeling great had a good time shopping south of the border without any of our marital strife real quick the divorce papers were in order and we were free at last to have a brand new life on the dark highway up north of San Diego the Wankel steady at 3500 rpm she was sleeping we got just what we came for and I softly said to her this little hymn I I I I forgive forgive forgive forgive you I forgive you I forgive you myself I forgive myself I give myself to you you I forgive you I forgive you myself I forgive myself I give myself to you

It was ironic that through 10 years of our marriage

I had never felt the way I did that night But the errors of the past I won't disparage And in the here and now here's how I make it right I forgive I forgive I forgive I forgive (repeat) you I forgive you I forgive you myself I forgive myself I give myself to you you I forgive you I forgive you myself I forgive myself I give myself to you

The Transparent Head
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Saturday, June 5, 2010 at 8:18am

Heroic! Triumphant! Spectacular! That's how I feel when I'm loving you. But then sometimes I feel more like Dracula The Undead - and my head - blocks my view. So I'll sever my head from my body, and bury it out back in the woods. And in the morning, when you discover me, there'll be no more coulds or shoulds. Then you'll kiss me in causeless forgiveness, and a new head appears on my neck transparent! How wonderful this is! I can see! And I show you respect. When my vampire veins are empty, I lie in wait, consumed by envy, a coward, cleverly concealing how inside my heart I'm feeling. Snarling, around my heart I'm sneaking, instead of simply, plainly speaking. But, seeing you from God's perspective, no longer is my soul defective.

How To Be Brave
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Saturday, June 5, 2010 at 8:21am

"Mistakes Were Made" by Tavris and Aronson "Sophie Scholl" directed by Rothemund a book and a movie, together they gave living examples of how to be brave.

By Daniel Cooper Clark · Saturday, June 5, 2010

cordless speakerphone is a baby in my hand with my daughter's voice

by Daniel Cooper Clark on Saturday, June 5, 2010 at 8:26am

Please, don't use "preposterous" to mock the Rhinoceros, who is much less absurd than the old Dodo Bird. Praise the beast, I should think, 'cause the Dodo's extinct, while the Rhino still storms with its Miocene horns!

by Daniel Cooper Clark on Saturday, June 5, 2010 at 2:19pm

We used to have Problems. Now we have Issues. We discuss them, not solve them. Problems, I miss you!

Me, My Body, and God
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Sunday, June 6, 2010 at 8:01am

God loves my body God loves my body God loves my body and I love my body too I love my body I love my body I love my body and My body loves me too My body loves me My body loves me My body loves me and My body loves God too My body loves God My body loves God My body loves God and I love God too I love God I love God I love God and God loves me too God God God God loves me loves me loves me and loves my body too


The Dragon, the Gem, and the Grace
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Friday, June 11, 2010 at 8:24am

Here, deep inside my sin, is the place where I must begin. Here, where life is bleak, lies in hiding the secret I seek. Here, breathing flames of hell,

a dragon keeps me captive in its spell, grasping a gem I must eat! to transform all my bitterness to sweet. My mind provides me a sword to cut though mighty sinews, clever wards. But flames deter my attack. A good shield is the one thing I lack. Lifetimes in this cave I've spent with no means to be saved. My heart has been too weak. But within it a voice starts to speak. "I shall set you free. I am your shield. Trust in me. Advance into the fire. Sacrifice is what I require." I have no other hope. I let go of the end of my rope. And, though it makes no sense, I attack, careless of consequence. Into the flames I run. But - a collision knocks me down, stunned! The fire, just atoms away from my body, has somehow been stayed. My hand, with its own purpose, reaches out to touch - a smooth surface. I see, if only a glimmer, that I'm pressed against a large mirror. The reflection gets more clear. First my hand, then my forearm appears, then one part at a time, I see the body's image is mine. The dragon has dissipated. In my face, care-worn but elated, I view my ancient foe, and the gemstone I must swallow. I do. I wake up from my dream. My love and I lie by a stream.

She kisses me on my face. "Thank you," I say, "for your grace."

The Effect of Global Warming on the Migratory Patterns of Otters
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Friday, June 11, 2010 at 8:35am

Hotter water's not for otters. They prefer to play it cool in a chilly woodland pool. Better swimming holes are closer to the Poles.

Bundling Cut Branches for Export
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Friday, June 11, 2010 at 8:26am

I lean and kneel, and feel a leaf. So fine! But knife ends life. I file and tag, for GATT, the data. Ta-da...

God Loves
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Tuesday, June 15, 2010 at 11:32pm

God God God God

loves loves loves loves

God loves

God loves God loves God loves God God God God God God God God God God God God God God God God God God God God God God God God God God God God God God God God loves me loves me loves me and loves you loves you loves you loves you and loves me loves loves loves loves loves loves loves loves loves us loves us loves us and loves them loves them loves them loves them and loves us loves loves loves loves loves loves loves loves

God is love God is love

God is love and Love is God Love is God Love is God Love is God and God is love God God God God God God God God loves loves loves loves loves loves loves loves

by Daniel Cooper Clark on Friday, June 18, 2010 at 7:53am

when I was 10 years old or so i had a short wave radio i heard the world i heard the voices i heard the spurious-sideband noises now i'm up here pushing 70 online gizmos just what's meant for me i share my world i share my voices i share my silence and my joyful noises

by Daniel Cooper Clark on Saturday, June 26, 2010 at 10:46pm

the nudest nudists bare their Souls don't care if you see the holes where Within shines through they've got nothing to hide Inside

by Daniel Cooper Clark on Monday, June 28, 2010 at 7:32am

Walk the silent secret path in the morning all alone, far away from war and wrath, in your private safety zone. On the cushioned woodland floor, left and right foot make no noise. You have passed beyond the door looking for the cowherd boys. Deep within the conscious heart expands a world of forest glades don't hold back, it's time to start Krishna's with the cowherd maids. It feels divine, there's no denying even when you can't stop crying!

Quantum of Consciousness
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Tuesday, June 29, 2010 at 8:36am

Reality, Reality are you a unity or a duality or just a collection of wandering dots? Fantasy, Fantasy you're what I care about, can't you see you take command of my wandering thoughts. Fantasy or Reality, what's the difference to be lost in a dream, or logical inference they're both a disease of a feverish mind with body and soul left far behind. Soul and Body, Body and Soul Compassion and Passion, they're all that I need. They're my twin engine plane, if God is my goal if my quest for satisfaction is going to succeed. The engines drone I vibrate their song "Quantum of Consciousness" can you hear it?

by Daniel Cooper Clark on Friday, July 2, 2010 at 7:51am

Thanx to y'all & thanx to the Danish physicist Niels Bohr for helping me to accept the "complementarity" of everything, and to the Bengali avatar Chaitanya for his presentation of "simultaneous oneness and difference" resolving itself in love, which itself is a paradox of passion (self-directed) and compassion (other-directed). The contradictions that bewilder the mind are what make the sparks fly! Ya know, the Venus-Mars thing... Oh well then, thanx to D. H. Lawrence too. (Hmm...all male...I should really be giving thanx to the Goddess...)

The Non-Locality
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Sunday, July 25, 2010 at 9:19am

Alice and Bob went out for a night of dancing at the Subatomic Club. All the Particles would be there - what fun to dance with them! They met Abe and Babe, two cute Photons, the perfect couple. Abe and Babe were in a quantum state, flawlessly fitting together. The two were different but one, cancelling out to a peaceful zero. "Let's dance!" said Alice. She took Abe out on the floor - they danced and danced, spinning away. "Let's dance!" said Bob. Bob and Babe went spinning a light year away in the opposite direction. Then Alice had Abe do the left-spin. And a light year away, instantaneously, Babe was doing the right-spin! How did she know? What passed between them? Where? When? Why ask? Abe and Babe are entangled - always together, no matter how far away. It's their favorite dance - The Non-Locality!

How Does It Come To You?
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Monday, August 2, 2010 at 9:11am

My next question is, how does it come to you? How does the poem arrive in your brain? In what form, what shape, what kind of packaging? Does it come as a song, with verse, chorus, and bridge? Does it come as a sonnet, with three quatrains and a couplet? Or as a daily conversation, like William Carlos Wiliams or as long declamations, like Whitman or Ginsberg or like the densely packed images of Wallace Stevens? Because the poem always arrives with its style built in. The form and the content are one in the poem and can't be separated unless the poem will die. You might be able to cleverly construct a poem rationally almost as you would figure out a mathematical equation, out of bits and pieces of the world you find around you. That's more a work of the eye than the ear, and there are of course visual poems in this visual age. But as far as I'm concerned, the ear is uppermost. A poem is something you hear as it comes to you of its own accord, demanding entrance, shouting or whispering, never leaving you alone, forcing you to the keyboard, taking over your life and making you forget paying the bills, insisting that it traverse from who knows where out into the world, where it belongs, because it belongs to everyone, not just you, loyal slave, servant of the truth, servant of love, servant of the sound you hear that will tie us all together. The poem arrives with its own priorities of form.

By Daniel Cooper Clark · Friday, August 6, 2010

For you good and faithful, the gifts of God are great. For feeling fully grateful, fulfillment is your fate.

Dinner With the Baby of Hearts
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Thursday, August 12, 2010 at 6:03pm

"It's all been said before." No, it hasn't. Each moment is completely new and original, arriving here dew-fresh, held in the hands of the midwife. She, The Infinite, smiles as she lavishly deals out her vast deck of cards in a blizzard of possibilities, all different, raw, and ready to be cooked in the casserole of experience.

by Daniel Cooper Clark on Monday, August 16, 2010 at 9:20am

I began to tell him that science has found a way through to consciousness, to spirit, and maybe to God. But he got all huffy and red-faced, and stopped me before I could finish. "The word science means knowledge. From the Latin - look it up - scientia. Knowledge, huh? You wish! Tell me about the ten dimensions or is that eleven dimensions, hmm? While you're arguing about that, I'll let Schroedinger's cat out of the box, very much alive, thank you, and very capable of catching mice, which is really the kind of knowledge science gives us. Nothing deep really, but techniques for bodily maintenance. I'm thankful for that, as are we all. But if I want knowledge, to know what's behind it all, after all, I'll run an experiment on my soul, and contemplate the data of eternity." Funny, but in his own fashion, he had said what I wanted to say.

The Copenhagen Interpretation agrees we can't know anything here for certain. Alain Aspect's data confirm there's another world, a unified world supporting this world of relativities. There, the souls of cats are eternal. Mouse-souls too, and me and you.

Walk at Dawn
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Wednesday, August 18, 2010 at 7:22am

Walking on a long straight street someone in the distance is approaching. Lots of time to think of how to greet, and when to greet - it musn't be too closely. My strategies erect a solid wall so the other will not know that I am fearful. This stranger might do anything at all! But etiquette demands that I be cheerful. White t-shirt and tan Bermuda shorts he's not so big - an old guy, walking slowly. Oh, it must be my acquaintance Mr. Schwartz! Without his dog, he looks so very lonely. Relieved, I let my shield fall down, and the space between us opens up to music. The player of that transcendental sound offers me a gift, and I accept. I choose it. It is a glimpse of God within the heart of Mr. Schwartz, now not so far away. No more need for me to feel apart "Good morning! Good to see you this fine day!"

Lost Loves
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Friday, August 27, 2010 at 7:15pm

I weep for you, lost loves. Helen, you gave birth to me and nursed me oh all the others are just attempts to steal you away from Rodney. Kathryn, your doll face and angel voice on the movie screen gave me the peace and ecstasy of heaven. Lili, you gave free rein to your ilicit uncontrollable lust in fantasies that transported me into dark delight. Penny, you looked at me across the desks in American History class and your face is imprinted on my mind through the years. Diane, you were a naked force of nature and gave me the knowledge of body and soul and a philosophy of simple living. Judy, your energetic happiness and true friendliness with all who came your way lifted me out of my morbid adolescent introspection. Carol, from the moment our eyes met on the school stairway among the crowd I've been yours no matter where you are. Gail, it was only a weekend but you swirled around me like the weather and your ample bosom is my metaphor for deep satisfaction. Ludmilla, as you danced your beautiful form took on a mythical aspect and grew in my mind to archetypal magnificence. Kim, out of our tentative and trembling first steps to traverse the intracacies of college-mixer awkwardness we found romance. Dale, you were so pretty and sweet and virginal I aspired to your goodness but my cynicism couldn't get past your "golly gee." Connie, Connie the warm the deep yes how our identities fused sharing impossible passion and Lawrence and Wolfe and Joyce. Lylli, you and I were soulmates in Provincetown but the lure of success took me to New York and loneliness. Carla, I suppose it wasn't love but God bless your freedom and generous abandonment during our tryst-night on the movie set.

Michele, you are the only one and there never will be any other because our marriage marked my entrance into manhood. Michelle, please forgive me for my stupidity and I suppose we never should have married but God gave us a precious Rose. Deborah, your sparkling crackling sense of adventure returned me to the world of the living and reminded who I really am. Shirley Ann, beautiful dreamer and schemer you captured me with your southern mountain charms and I am forever grateful. Veronika, do we actually know each other or are all those images only a representation of my desire for unattainable Olympian bliss? Ellie, you are the love I haven't lost and the love that sustains me and the wife I always wanted so I weep that it took me so long.

Left! Right! Left! Right!
By Daniel Cooper Clark · Sunday, September 5, 2010

Slogans and myths and symbols and labels sum up the politics of people unable to see under the surface of demagogues' lies. Those tempting seductions won't work on the wise.

Haiku Contra Whitman
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Thursday, September 9, 2010 at 12:20pm

Sing a song of God. Don't sing a song of yourself. Walt, be transparent!
(I'm a life-long admirer of Walt Whitman's poetry. I'd be much the poorer without his "barbaric yawp." So why write this? Because the words came to me as I was slowly waking up a few days ago. There they were, and I didn't want to reject them. As WW put it, "Do I contradict myself? Very well then, I contradict myself.")

By Daniel Cooper Clark · Friday, September 10, 2010

languages are linkers bridging brains of thinkers readers hearers viewers joined as one words and tones and pictures many merged in mixtures connecting me and you as God has done

Florida Lawn
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Sunday, September 12, 2010 at 2:40pm

January's grass does not need mowing. February's grass is hardly growing. March's grass - give it a trim. April's grass is soft and thin. May's grass bursts up with vigor. June's grass gets even bigger. July's grass demands much more. August's grass is waging war. September's grass is long and tough. October's grass - Enough! Enough! November's grass is finally less. December's grass gives me a rest.

By Daniel Cooper Clark · Wednesday, September 22, 2010

When she inhabits you When the image of her body occupies every space inside your body her arms in your arms her legs in your legs her eyes in your eyes and every cell and corpuscle of your body is individually an image of her body so that even though you are "you" singular you are also "you" plural When she walks inside your walk

When she talks inside your talk her beauty making you beautiful her joyfulness making you joyful her youth making you youthful her nakedness making you weightless When her life lives in and through you expanding your life in radiance When she occupies you When she inhabits you then that is When you know you love her

By Daniel Cooper Clark · Friday, October 8, 2010

It must be so. Out of the dead bones is distilled a drop of sanctity. Out of the confusion, revisited so many times and now compacted by honoring the acute will of one hundred justifications, through tremendous tremorings, shuddering nightfalls, generous knives engendering wounds, my repetitions filtering out the unneccessary humiliations, now stopped. Now staring. Now opening, the heart of service beats naked, glorious. Her eyes are burning. The confidential truth, a hurricane of metaphysics, sweeping away all but the sweet land of love. Do I think I've reached the end? It is only the beginning. I climb the hill against the shrieking darts, and keep on climbing. Two thousand bodies, my false selves, rip away in the storm that flails me. Her arms reach toward me. My only possession is her desire for me. I give her my body constructed out of the rock of suffering, an inconceivable weight populated by all dwellers on earth, impossibly rising upwards powered by my yearning for transmutation. I scream out the primordial sound, my tongue writhing like a snake, the guttural gropings of a first language, giving way after eons to a vocal orchestra of celestial sonics. The sound disperses the mist, the dust, the agony,

and I die to the old life. I give pleasure to the Goddess, to the Mother, Mother Goddess. I take pleasure in the Goddess, in the Great, Great Mother Goddess.
(The last two lines are sung.)

She Is Everyone
By Daniel Cooper Clark – not posted

I cannot go to the Mother Goddess by renouncing the world. She is the world. Only by traveling deep within her body of the world can I get to her. I let her occupy my mind. I let my mental body-image be transformed into hers. I bring every atom, every wave and particle of her world-body into my body as I travel. I bring the whole world with me to her bright heart, her heart, the portal to the other world, where her Absolute Body is Queen and we are all her willing slaves, delighting in her and giving her pleasure. It is so wonderful to give happiness to everyone, and She is everyone.

GT: Give and Take
By Daniel Cooper Clark – not posted

I give pleasure to the Goddess, to the Mother, Mother Goddess. I take pleasure in the Goddess, in the Mother, Mother Goddess.

Oh Yes
By Daniel Cooper Clark – not posted

Dear Great Mother Goddess Dear Great Mother Goddess Dear Great Mother Goddess Oh Yes Oh Yes Oh Yes Dear Sweet Mother Goddess Dear Sweet Mother Goddess Dear Sweet Mother Goddess Oh Yes Oh Yes Oh Yes Dear Great Mother Guru Dear Great Mother Guru Dear Great Mother Guru Oh Yes Oh Yes Oh Yes Dear Sweet Mother Guru Dear Sweet Mother Guru Dear Sweet Mother Guru Oh Yes Oh Yes Oh Yes

Free Will at Dinnertime
By Daniel Cooper Clark · Thursday, October 21, 2010

Victor Lindlahr said, "You are what you eat." Some foods make you bitter, some make you sweet. But I think the opposite's more important by far. You choose what to eat. You eat what you are.

President of Poland Joins Fanatic Hindu Cult
By Daniel Cooper Clark · Sunday, October 24, 2010

I used to dance the Polka, but now I chant the Shloka. I've given up frivolity for good. No meat in my pierogi!

No more I smoke the stogie! My Guru has me living like I should. I want to make Warszawa cent percent Vaishnava, and Sanskrit shall become our mother tongue. I'll deploy the Polish Army in war agianst the Karmi! We enforce the Vedic law, pointing gun!

D.T. Ditty
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Thursday, December 2, 2010 at 11:08pm

Doughnuts glow, Gentile, until cat food's bright, Bold sage good-turns, and saves, and loathes to pay; Cage, cage in tents your dining on delights.

The Sport of Killing
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Sunday, December 12, 2010 at 8:55pm

Military Pride feasts on those who've died. War is Legal Evil. But the problem's with The People. Don't blame the Government when Public Sentiment so quickly turns the Flag into a bloody rag. Had no one Rallied Round it, the fracas would have floundered. For that we need a Mind of a different kind Peacefulness within seeing War as Sin. No, we're just too willing to play the Sport of Killing. "War's over if you Want it." Some do, but most Support it. And a Victory Proclaimed predicts More of the Same.

by Daniel Cooper Clark on Wednesday, December 15, 2010 at 10:47pm

Bernie Sanders filibustered in the Senate - more than eight hours bravely speaking truth to power. DC nabobs don't pass muster. Democracy? Plutocracy! You aren't rich? You get no justice. He exposed the filthy cowards Bernie Sanders filibustered! (The poem is structured as an "Octain," a form invented by poet Luke Prater two days ago.)

They Say Hare
By Daniel Cooper Clark · Saturday, December 18, 2010

The sages' way: they pray all day. They say Hare, Hare, Hare. The sages pray our pain away. They say Hare, Hare, Hare.

The Great Prevaricator
By Daniel Cooper Clark · Saturday, December 18, 2010

He's not the man he said he was, while vying for the post. It's politics! He won because the liars get the most.

By Daniel Cooper Clark · Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Allow, allow, allow it all. Allow it all, oh yes. Oh yes, allow, allow it all. Allow it all, oh yes.

Dead and Gone
By Daniel Cooper Clark · Tuesday, January 4, 2011

I would pass a sobriety test. The bed of coals in my chest can no longer be ignited. My passion's passed on, unrequited.

By Daniel Cooper Clark · Monday, January 10, 2011

one meter high boy in white karate dogi quickly thumbs iphone

Oval and Dot
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Sunday, January 30, 2011 at 10:06pm

OhYes WhiteyBlacky OhYes Oval and Dot OhYes EggSperm OhYes Oval and Dot OhYes DeviDeva OhYes Oval and Dot

OhYes GoddessGod OhYes Oval and Dot
A poem? Well, an incantation - and an explanation of the profile image I'm using - the oval being the primordial feminine, the dot being the primordial masculine. The poetic method, aside from the repetition, obeys a numerological rule: the letters of each line must add up to nine. (O is the 15th letter of the alphabet, 1+5=6. So, O=6, H=8, Y=7, E=5, S=1, that totals 27, 2+7=9. And so on.)

by Daniel Cooper Clark on Wednesday, February 2, 2011 at 8:11pm

You're skating along on a dull black sheet of smoked glass and, if you were to stop and turn around and peek down through your skate scratches, you'd see another layer below of smoked glass with you skating on it and down through those skate scratches to another layer, another layer all of them with you, skating down and down they go, round and round they go, in a spin, in a spiral spin and up, if you care to look there you are! Up there! Skating along without knowing! Hello! Hello! He can't hear me! He keeps skating skating up, up to the next layers, where I already am, millions of me's illusions of me's lost in time forgetting everything but the layer I'm on now. Just keep skating, boy! Keep your eyes on what's right in front of you!

If you were to know at this moment every moment of your past and future, you'd go mad! It's too much for your brain. Leave it up to God. Just keep skating. That's the plan.
(Or, I could say there's only one me, but many facets of me, each one based on a different sequence of memories that defines the identity of that facet. And it's impossible for any one of the facets to perceive all the memories of the other facets. Also, it's impossible for any facet to ascertain if it's the "real me." The real me is the consciousness that keeps its eyes on God.)

Among the Pictures
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Tuesday, February 8, 2011 at 9:06pm

Everything we see exists eternally. Unbounded, without limit, eternity's infinite. Everything fits there with lots of room to spare. Each particle of time is listed line by line. Each inch of cosmic space never leaves its place. Each miniscule event is parked without a dent. Each show on NBC was there in 10 B.C. Your fleeting vague emotion has a cubicle it goes in. The smallest distant twitch occupies a niche.

The pizza you just ordered comes to you prerecorded. The facts a genius knows were there, in columns and rows. Within eternity, days wait for you and me. The sacred and profane are equal on that plane. Scenes of hell and heaven are adjacent in that setting. Eternity is filled with photographic stills scattered in a chaos. Are actors there, to play us? Eternity and time are dead. They're not sublime. That is not enough. It's only lifeless stuff, until consciousness is added and reaches in to grab it. Continuum and flow make the movie go. Consciousness continues. It animates the statues. How does life arise? Now for a surprise. Pry open logic's locks. Let loose the paradox. Infinity's unbounded, it cannot be surrounded, but this I truly pledge: the endless has an edge. The formless has a form. It is not forlorn.

Incomprehensible, to us not sensible, the boundless database has arms and legs, a face of supreme divine beauty, a heart whose only duty is to worship, love, and give in short, to fully live. This vast perimeter might be known as Her, or She, the Feminine, where all life begins. She's both egg and chicken. Oh, how the plot does thicken! She's not a thin life line, a skinny film on time no, a sliver of sideways eight is infinitely great. (Eternal mathematics takes mental acrobatics.) Her consciousness pervades the region of the shades. Eternity - yes - honest is the body of the Goddess! So then, who are we? Fish within her sea, made of conscious stuff, her substance - that's enough to give us permanance in her eternal dance. So, what forms are ours? Are we beasts or gods or flowers? We choose among the pictures whatever image fits us, according to our mood, violent or subdued. Be it good or bad,

a lifetime's to be had possibilities across infinity. Here's the hitch, my friend. Most come to an end. As we lived that one, so the next's begun. But there are some others, hidden under cover, worth an ardent quest, for they are the best. Attracted by those pictures, first obey some strictures, then spontaneity takes over and you're free from death and from perdition, from pain and repetition. These are the lives of service, serving the highest purpose, completely free from fear, inside the spirit sphere. Here Goddess and her Boy dispense out sweetest joy in constant springtime season eternity's best reason. Do you accept this mission? It is your decision.

Oceanic Adjuration
By Daniel Cooper Clark · Friday, February 11, 2011

Too long you've bowed to minor deities. The spirit, gnarled, recedes. Let go! Unfurl to higher fealties! Be bold, and arm your deeds!

Introduction to Nasalism
By Daniel Cooper Clark · Saturday, February 12, 2011

Get to know your nostrils what they take in, what they send out. Become their apostle yes, surrender to your snout!

By Daniel Cooper Clark · Monday, February 14, 2011

The light pouring out of my pores is liquid love it's The Mother's milk!

Make It
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Sunday, March 6, 2011 at 8:07am

I don't really know. I really don't know. I don't know. Really. Really! I don't know! Is the truth what I feel? The truth is what I feel. What I feel is the truth. What is the truth? I feel. Love, show my will the Way. My will, show the Love Way. The Way will show my Love. My Love will show the Way. Life is all you make of It. It - is all you make of Life. All you make of It - is Life. All of Life is you. Make It.

by Daniel Cooper Clark on Friday, March 11, 2011 at 7:51pm

She sailed in, on her boat, on the waves of my life. I had never seen one like her. All the rest of them faded fast out of sight, all their faces now just a blur. I tied tight her boat to the dock of my mind. We held hands as she disembarked. And there in the sun we lay down intertwined. She took charge then and there of my heart. She'd bought a hotel on the coast of Brazil to serve as her palace of dreams. Hypnotized by her beauty I obeyed her will. She was Mother, and she was the Queen. As her son and her subject I photographed her in the marbled and filigreed rooms, the most passionate poses allowed undeterred for my camera's wide angles and zooms. "Lovely boy, lovely body that I call mine," she sang in our tropic heat, "we join nude together in this world out of time. No love was ever so sweet." Dresses and costumes and lingerie, sheer, sliding off her revealed her form, voluptuous breasts on a slim shape without peer, long legs for whose praise I was born. And her face, oh that face, chimerical face, now sultry, now innocent, sweet, heart-shaped, deep-eyed, full-lipped, full of grace, dark hair coiffed scattered or neat. But deep in her eyes, sad knowledge, profound, swam in liquid that never made tears. She gave to her voice a piquant sound that concealed all she knew of my fears. In the park, on the beach, we danced naked all day. The paid-off police stood and smiled. But at night, dream-in-dream, I could see far away a rift I had not reconciled. I'd gladly responded to her siren call. She gave pleasure to body - but soul? Was she illusion? Not real at all?

Was I sinking down a dark hole? I'd dedicated myself to spiritual truth! Where did - she - fit into that plan? I felt I would never stop tasting her fruit would I end up a 'dirty old man'? Then in a dream that transcended all dreams, she appeared, so brilliant and clear. Her voice rang out like a bell and it seemed her words poured into my ears. "I'm your Mother," she said, "but what Mother am I? Do you know all the Mothers you have? Aside from the woman who heard your first cry, there are others to make you feel glad. Dear Great Mother Goddess - the Willendorf form, Dear Sweet Mother Goddess - Radha, Dear Great Mother Guru - the one Brooklyn-born, Dear Sweet Mother Guru - Nikaia!" "That's my name, Nikaia. I've come to teach you the secret within your desires. Yes, 'sex is the hallmark of the spiritual world', the source that enlightens your fires. Infinite orgasm is the center of all, orgasm rushing out in a mood of service and love that we call The Absolute Truth without doubt. "That feminine source includes the male and manifests him - as her God. We're part of her. All our duty entails is helping her worship her Lord. The thrills that I give you are just a small part of the thrills of spiritual sex! Direct your devotion to the Loving Pair, Radha-Krishna, Goddess-God, Oh-Yes. "Oh-Yes, they're the ones, and the One that we seek in all our material games. Put your head on the floor, bow down at their feet, and pronounce their mystical names. On your in-breath, think Oh, out-breath, think Yes. Pause at the peace in between. Do it freely, day and night, not under duress, to feel - a joy that's supreme."

I stay in that dream that isn't a dream, while sleeping and awake. The Sweet Mother Guru put me on her team. I do everything for her sake. It started as madness, escape from the real, but somehow she saved me from doom. She knew that I only wanted to feel the pleasure of being consumed. Consumed by the real, consumed by the truth, consumed by the infinite sea, enraptured and intimate, no longer aloof, loving eternally, gushing, expressing, dancing in bliss, joining the chorus of souls, I won't find anything better than this a play with a permanent role.

That's When I Really Need You
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Friday, March 11, 2011 at 7:55pm

Oh, when I'm feelin' blue, that's when I really need you. Oh, when the sun don't shine, that's when I need to know you're mine. When I'm happy and we're having fun, it's so good to be close to someone. But when I'm feelin' blue, that's when I really need you. Oh, I can act real mad, when deep inside I'm just so sad. Don't let me push you away, 'cause you're the one who makes my day. I just don't know what comes over me, but you pull me up and I can see. Yes, when I'm feelin' blue, that's when I really need you. You give me flowers Lord knows how you help me get through the hours like nobody else.

Oh, when the tears roll down my cheeks and I frown, and I wring my hands, no one but you understands. I can't recall how I ever got by without you to hug me when I cry. Oh, when I'm feelin' blue, that's when I really need you.

Miyagi Prefecture 2011
by Daniel Cooper Clark on Sunday, March 13, 2011 at 10:19am

Oppenheimer rendered the Sanskrit in 1945 "I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds" plundering manic barbarian A-bombers throwing rocks, throwing spears, throwing Scuds greedy Wall Street financial criminals gutting out the middle class to join the one percent strict Mother's fires, floods, earthquakes, cyclones smashing the best efforts of civilization humans are part of Nature we're told yes just like tectonic plates we crunch and destroy "Better to have a quiet life eating mush" said Toshiro Mifune in the Kurosawa film but the quiet life is punctuated by loud explosions that open our eyes to the suffering heart Buddha said, "The world is on fire - get out" in what condition to get out - dead or alive? save your own skin and get out of here dead serve those who suffer and get out alive for ever and ever amen

By Daniel Cooper Clark · Tuesday, March 15, 2011 at 9:46am

ive given up poetry for pottery ive given up cleverness for clay a pot is nothing but

what it ought to be whereas words often turn and go astray

The Lost Yuloh
by Daniel Cooper Clark · Thursday, March 17, 2011

(Yuloh: a long iron or hardwood stern-oar for sculling a sampan) Low goes the night deep into the psyche, confounding reason's neatness. Dwindling charms of day twinkle hesitantly on the opposite riverbank. My friend the sterling silver mongoose displays his cobra tattoo to the passersby on the brick tenement streets as we search for the lost maple yuloh lost in battle - and perhaps hidden cleverly inside that long baguette in a bakery window that reflects behind us the sea over which we must travel to an island just beyond the horizon, whose glow we see - not rising like the sun a trip requiring the sampan - and the yuloh which we have lost.

The Affirmatives
By Daniel Cooper Clark · Monday, March 21, 2011

Oh Oh Oh Oh

Yes Oh Yes Oh Yes Yes Indeed It's True Yes Oh Yes Oh Yes Yes I'm Loving You

Select Foods
By Daniel Cooper Clark · Sunday, March 27, 2011

There was a man did a-shopping go, and he bought bananas three bought black grapes in a plastic bag vegetarian was he turned up his nose at the fishy smell in the store, and quickly quipped, "If it runs or swims or flies away, I'll not partake of it!"

For the Love of Garbanzo
By Daniel Cooper Clark · Wednesday, April 6, 2011 (to be sung operatically in a phony Italian accent)

Garbanzo - fruit of a million years Garbanzo - how I love you today Do you know - how I have shed my tears Do you know - I cannot go away I saw you there on the shelf And my heart did a flip and a flop I could hardly contain myself And I knew that it never would stop Garbanzo - how I adore your form Garbanzo - how I love you tonight Do you know - I love you cool or warm Do you know - that I love every bite Garbanzo - Garbanzo!

The Information
By Daniel Cooper Clark · Monday, April 11, 2011

The information will crumble. All too soon, the edifice we've created to neatly freeze the Entirety will display tiny cracks like spiderwebs. The skin, we will now observe, has been breathing all this time.

We thought it was a hard, lifeless shell. But no, our sparkling monument containing all the numbers of all the atoms of all the things and ideas and feelings was a human construction and never stopped being a life form like us. And like any mere human it will go crazy from being corraled and bound up tightly according to rules of reason. It will crave to slake its thirst and will stick out invisible tongues to drink from the ocean of Chaos surrounding its perimeter. It will guzzle and suck and slurp slowly at first, through the hairline cracks. Then as it swallows more and more Chaos, the cracks will become fissures inviting the invasion of the indeterminate. We'll be able to look inside. The precise definitions of the matrix are getting fuzzy, a little mixed up. A car dealer in Lima, Peru advertises a model that performs slow rotations along its front-to-back axis as it proceeds without touching the road. Flowers for sale in Bruxelles change species and varieties every two minutes. The Nikkei persistently reports trading figures derived from Edmonton hockey scores. Soon data breaking out of context will gather to form a small vortex of bits that travels around, twisting rapidly, peeling more data off rational structures, gathering size and speed, a tornado of bits, increasing its size and and speed, finally encompassing all the information, becoming a giant blur vibrating with the sounds of all the world's recorded voices and music, a deafening din, the only thing we'll hear now that our computers and televisions are silent, mute, empty of content. We shall not see, beyond the limit of our intelligence, the enormous vat of Chaos, into which has dissolved the information.

by Daniel Cooper Clark · Thursday, April 21, 2011

Concerning religious topics, if someone asks me, "Do you believe that?" or even worse, "Do you know that?" I answer, "I'm so gullible I'll believe anything, and I'm so limited I know nothing. But I can say this: I like it. I like it! It appeals to me." Which is true, and puts the conversation on a personal level, where it always is anyway. Belief and knowledge are beside the point. Religion is all about affection.

What Will Be
By Daniel Cooper Clark · Friday, April 22, 2011

The aftermath of a decision can’t be graphed with precision – salutary or deleterious or ordinary it’s mysterious.

by Daniel Cooper Clark · Friday, April 22, 2011

Stuck in the Pripet Marshes for days on end after the threat of prison, could be worse but can't hold a candle to eating snipefish off the coast of Peru, or clabbered milk that Lena offered me. I'm annoyed. I'd missed the Bologna train and got caught. Didn't heed the tocsin ringing in my head, my faithful warning signal - missed the "window," oddly enough while gazing at a Palladian window of exquisite design in Rome, and got nabbed. The informal extradition by black Fiat took me to Kiev at dawn. The goons were hungry and left me tied up in the car, so they thought, for a breakfast of biscuits and coffee. I made my escape. A boat going up the Dnieper took me north a few miles to Vishhorod, where I walked into swamp country on P02. Hundreds of miles of marshes, beavers, badgers,

surround me as I hide, like the old-time bandits who evaded the Ukraine police, under the water as we've seen in many a movie, breathing through reeds. My concern is not the cops, but radiation they say is still a danger. Chernobyl is close. I'm tired of running away. But can't stay here with chiliastic dreams - un ange qui passe. Mordecai expects me. Rouse, you! Impatience goads me on like Hokusai's wave. Yearning for action impels me. Take wing! Becoming an angel for myself, I leave the swamp, plucking a hyacinth as I go, finding meaning.

Go To Sleep Little One
By Daniel Cooper Clark · Sunday, June 19, 2011

Oh how I love you, darkness, so soft for eye and ear. You ban the glaring sharpness it cannot interfere. Deep in your foggy cushion, I leave the blare of day. And freed from pullandpushing I simply drift away. My boat sets sail in evening, upon the ocean top. Fantasies will please me wherever I will stop. The stars in patterned dances, sing love songs to the moon. Their heavenly romances will be my story soon. Such busy dreaming pleasures, that never have been told. My friends discover treasures our pockets fill with gold. A tree that's good for climbing, holds me as it sways. Our cat commands an island with secret tunnel maze. We chase away the monsters,

and turn them into dust. Then blowing on our conches we chant In God We Trust. My dreams will last forever, alive inside of me. They'll make the morning better three times three times three.

Triage of Verbiage
By Daniel Cooper Clark· Tuesday, July 12, 2011

I want to drink a stupefying beverage cuz everyone's addicted to the new verb Leverage! You can't say Utilize or Take Advantage Of nothing but Leverage is what to make a habit of!

3 4 Time
By Daniel Cooper Clark· Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Oh Radha Oh Radha Oh Radha Radha Yes Krishna Yes Krishna Yes Krishna Krishna Oh Oh Oh Oh Yes Oh Yes Yes Oh Yes Yes Oh Yes Yes

Radha Krishna Radha Krishna Radha and Krishna Radha Krishna Radha Krisna Radha and Krishna Oh Oh Oh Oh Yes Oh Yes and Yes Yes Oh Yes and Yes

Make Somebody Happy
By Daniel Cooper Clark· Saturday, July 16, 2011

In this world of birth and death, of gladness and of grief, give your love out right and left, for time is just a thief. Make somebody happy. It doesn't matter who it is. Make somebody happy. That's the reason why we live. The sadness that is going round will never go away. So make somebody happy. Don't put it off - do it today. The one who's sitting next to you, by choice or maybe chance, while not perfect or absolute, deserves a friendly glance. Make somebody happy. It doesn't matter who it is. Make somebody happy. That's the reason why we live. The sadness that is going round will never go away. So make somebody happy. Don't put it off - do it today. Wars go on without an end. Say a kind word to a friend. Make somebody happy. It doesn't matter who it is. Make somebody happy. That's the reason why we live. The sadness that is going round will never go away. So make somebody happy. Don't put it off - do it today.

One Love
By Daniel Cooper Clark· Sunday, July 24, 2011

Krishna is the happiness Krishna is the pain Krishna is the sunshine and Krishna is the rain Krishna is everything Nothing else exists And if you're in love with him He'll give you a kiss