The Boy in the Stiff Boots


I beg you take courage; the brave soul can mend even disaster.” — Catherine the Great

Being on the spectrum, is like walking in a stiff pair of boots. Your feet hurt, and you have no flexibility. Yet you can see above the heads of others because you stand taller. And that is where we both begin and end…

Upon a recent night I hear him say. “Oh Babylon, how your walls have fallen, how you have destroyed me, how these stiff boots cannot my feet contain.” And since I wonder at such his words, I move closer, for there is a haunting of the spirit, that preludes, the creation of G_D’s sweet grace. And such further I hear him phrase. “I am broken by your name, blessed be, my only shame, fill me with your flame. For it is I have seen such terrible things, my mind plays in such a grotesque game.”

He is born with stiff boots, a strength that is built on hurt, justified, by what the world has done to him, what he thinks G_D has done to him, what life has done to him, and yes what I have done to him. And he has become unconquerable, and strong, building a daemon so angry it possesses his given name. His beautiful name. And he stands so stiff and tall in his stiff boots. He curses the stars above Babylon because they never make him whole. He never fills full.

Please help the boy in the stiff boots is my claim, on the altar in your name. Bending low, patterns drawn in your image I say. Day after day, night after night let your sweet essence enter his human cage.

And how these many days I pray, and how I will bless your unmitigated names. She-ma Yisrael, Adonai eloheinu, Adonai echad, each night I claim.

She comes in the mystery of a falling rain, and before he is born, she fills his soul. She comes in a desert place before I even know his name and claims the payment for his change. And in the city of the dead, G_D comes to claim that which I even did not know. And while he screams, and the Mediterranean rolls, this lord, this Adonai comes and makes his eyes glow. The earth opens and takes his pain, in a holy flame. My baby boy, his eyes like mine, a hazel grain.

And how these many days I pray, and how I will bless your unmitigated names. She-ma Yisrael, Adonai eloheinu, Adonai echad, each night I claim.

She comes in my stiff boots of memory, in the archetype of my soul. She is all unto me, the mix that makes me whole. And just like he is unto me, every cell that makes a family sensory, we share the same. In your name. Oh, how I come to you, in your mystery, I thank you, while this world wanes. I know my son’s story, how you built him in all your glory before the world was named. And like him you made me, stiff boots made of chemistry, that which fills our brain. In that we walk from day to day. In that we walk from day to day. And that is where we both begin and end… – 06.17.2022 – דָּנִיֵּאל

 

In Marriage by the Witch’s Gate


“Stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires”. – William Shakespeare

My love, my love your all I ever see.

My heart beats in my ear, my eye will not see shadow, or color near. Oh, thought you have left me, tongue you cannot cry or speak. For I am a lost, consumed by faire fire and light, devoured by the craft of those sounds that cannot speak. And I must know you….

By the witch’s gate, in the sea of reeds, breath of female love, gives me mystery.  Oh, you are the stars of Babylon, with your eyes so green, mother to our magic children, born from matter drawn from we. On the salty tides, with a crown of leaves. On the grace that brings a shutter, let me fall upon one knee. Let me go forth now, pronounce my love of all of thee. By the oath of love, I bring my seed in thee, until this life has passed, then on eternally. By thy olive hand, waves a mystery, under this canopy of stars, starts the life that we will be. By the sworn oath, by the earned destiny. By the growing clouds and circles, trouble cometh, bare it all with me. By the witch’s gate, I marry thee. By the witch’s gate, let sovereign be.

By a song of praise, inside a seal of stone and weed. Comes now a silent witness of a world unseen. Be it he or she, we bend ourselves to thee. Something gifted by hosts of angels, finds a place in we. Forge it a gift to me, I give it back a seed. Know you now my treasure, better than breathe in me. That November moon, seen by a swamp tree, has a bite gone, from its periphery. Bended bands on hands show imperfectibly. So is our life defined, dark messengers cry to blessed be. By the witch’s gate, I marry thee. By the witch’s gate, let sovereign be.

Shadows move, to clear the fog away, some humidity decides to stay. Open now far heavens guide us here by the witch’s gate. Our lives together bound by only what we take. Oh, this fire does clear the gloom, takes us on toward better to a different moon. Clearer than, man-made prophecy. My love, my love your all I ever see. Praise the ties that bind us, mother from her wound. What we weave. By the witch’s gate, I marry thee. By the witch’s gate, let sovereign be.

My heart beats in my ear, my eye will not see shadow, or color near. Oh, thought you have left me, tongue you cannot cry or speak. For I am a lost, consumed by faire fire and light, devoured by the craft of those sounds that cannot speak. And I must know you by the witch’s gate.

For Susan. My love, my love your all I ever see. – 11.30.21 – דָנִיֵּאל

 

Far end of the Black (Cherokee Park)


“Some whisper holy, holy, but they lie. Some cry rapture sweet Pontifex Maximus, but they do not know. I lay in the secret places, where the wolves eat their meat, and I wait for you to call Lord”*.

I came to Colorado, to the park of the Cherokee, to wild places, to see the light, the fading light, and there was black. Into heaven I rose, into lonely lands, on my own I found memories of some things, tragic spells that I lacked. And those places, so high and free, those dwellings of stone, those places that seemed so black, brought me back, so high they were my friend, and they brought me back. I am a soul who has come too closely to what is not right, and by virtue, what is right, and here in these high places, where there is black, there is light great light.

So close to Wyoming here, so close to G_D, and yet he hides, there among the sandstone, and conifer, the pinon and deep shadows. My frown turned into a debt, my childhood scars, no one knows about, those frights, and glass defenses shattered by life. I cast them into that pool of sand, and it turns into black, while demons dance all along my back, my white, white back. And ruins they come, throwing their stones everywhere around, and it seems they place themselves on the meadow where I might never find my way back. Holy, holy I cry, turning to see there in the wild place, the far end of the black, the stones form around me tight, a place I might find. A path to breath in light.

I came to Colorado, to the park of the Cherokee, to stop what was black, to resurrect a magic of right. You see my fears, have made the one of the world something, lost to my sight. And it was cold, frozen beyond anything, close to what I had ever been told it would be. And the wind blew from left to right, from left to right, for all that is known, he is not, for he is foreign, hidden in a sea of compassion and darkness, waiting at the far end of the black, in light.

And he called me Daniel in the park of the Cherokee, his dances were waves of light, I Am, I Am, he gave me with liquid rays, that touch, that kisses me, at the far end of the black, at the farthest end of the black!

“Some whisper holy, holy, but they lie. Some cry rapture sweet Pontifex Maximus, but they do not know. I lay in the secret places, where the wolves eat their meat, and I wait for you to call Lord”*. – 08.17.2015 – דָּנִיֵּאל

*The Chronicles of Mihai – Daniel Swearingen
* Far end of Black – J.R. Richards

Ruins


There oh Ruach fulfill in me, springtime of a destiny,

Rain in ruins, and what’s now green,

There my shadows build a hall of kings,

A hall of kings.

And Ruach fills my ruins with glory.

The train of his robe fills my shadows with glory.

Are we not candles in melancholy black, falling like ashes while no one looks back? Neurons in transit, a darkness of attack, ruins in corners hidden, a high so many lack. Falling like poets on a dusty road, writing to edges where nobody goes, and ruins and pieces, these parts that give back, oh those lonely byways, light that pain attracts. Have you built a cabin, one that leaks in rain, wood that is your story that celebrates your pain? Ruins on dusty highways, pictures looking back, an issue of our century, genius of our tack. Ruins, I’ve seen them bloody, shells of men in pain, and a glory of what’s hidden, in the writer’s rain. For when the brow is furrowed, worried, sights unseen, that ruin of all depression is where G-D’s light is seen.

Tested in great fury, scratches on your back, those who do not worry are those who should look back. For their sits an angel, dark temper in his sleeves, watching special failures, to see those who do not leave. When in all dark passion, when in charm you lack, G-D will kiss your blindness your ruins he will take back. For lonely is a fullness, shadow is a rite, unto you who do not see straight, is a way for light. Come now build your character in ruins that are unseen, gold in tested fire of anchors staid by kings. Ruins that call a people, where only ghost still sing, rising in your fortune, turn around and see.

Settle with the liar, those who hold you back, those who pretend that ruins are things that you lack. Go beyond the picture, those definitions seen, descriptions of your weakness, those teachers that cannot see. Delve into your darkness, pastels that turn to black, commandeer your shadows, your G-D he wants you back. It is now here in all Ruach, that breath that shakes the sun, your night that’s held you’re willing, and the light that brings you back. Your ruins they are spirit, a conscious of your past, a forward of your person fulfilled you should look back, your light is shadows past, your light is shadows past, your light is shadows past.

There oh Ruach fulfill in me, springtime of a destiny,

Rain in ruins, and what’s now green,

There my shadows build a hall of kings,

A hall of kings.

And Ruach fills my ruins with glory.

The train of his robe fills my shadows with glory.

Ruach – A Hebrew word meaning “wind” or “spirit“. In its prophetic form as Ruach HaKodesh it is derived from the Talmud equating Divine Inspiration (Ruach haKodesh), and a Divine Voice as the word used to refer to the Spirit of God, or Holy Spirit, in the Tanakh. For me Ruach that most holy of holy’s resides in the ruins of my soul. 07.16.2015 – דָּנִיֵּאל

Even Faith (Leviticus)

Even faith unto Sinai, there by letter you decide, in your sounds and by your sighs, you made harmony. Unto ancient unto skies, parallel by rule and life, law intended deep inside, this tranquility.

There are roots that come up bare from the underworld, they do source themselves in law, and site their words unfurled. There are dangers often sought, that speak upon soft poems, like a syren with strange spell, their voices in soft moan. Have you drawn upon yourself, interrupted strange dreams, fallen into doctrinal wells, those where devils preen? Even faith the tides of life, taken from harsh black or white, these are all we try to find, in our fallen dreams, rules of law that one must find, no one sees them in the light, of their destiny. Has this world known not of right, has this shadow ruled this night, has this underworld found such that we should cry….? Bring us to tranquility!

Even faith unto Sinai, there by letter you decide, in your sounds and by your sighs, you made harmony. Unto ancient unto skies, parallel by rule and life, law intended deep inside, this tranquility.

For all who look, an over world, that strange path of pretty swirls, that work, that most would say hard, for eternity. Even faith the rules of life, those that bind us to a sign, into warmth a place of light, no mediocrity. You say do not carve yourself, pray before who claims himself, this is law unto oneself, can creation see, what you’ve made relief. All we are in matter formed, from your love before we’re born, oh your law unto this faith we breathe, by my G-D to me. Bring us to tranquility!

Even faith unto Sinai, there by letter you decide, in your sounds and by your sighs, you made harmony. Unto ancient unto skies, parallel by rule and life, law intended deep inside, this tranquility.

So it is, I turn to sky, every morning, every night, place myself before your light and breathe. Master of divinity, all the signs decreed. Over, under now you speak, oh Orion, from your keep, G-D of mystery, loose in me, now you root it all belief, touch those things I cannot see, even faith eternity. Balanced judgment, equal life, kind of spirit there are times, you invade and make these right in me. Even faith…..Bring us to tranquility!

Even faith unto Sinai, there by letter you decide, in your sounds and by your sighs, you made harmony. Unto ancient unto skies, parallel by rule and life, law intended deep inside, this tranquility.

So, even faith cannot be real, for in truth it lies and kills, has it become what’s not real, sidelined. Only law can instill time, bring about what is inside, bring the G-D that is mankind beneath. Waiting there in over world, tidings Torah for this world, watching stories, lives unfurl, even faith that’s lived by law, can bring…..tranquility!

Even faith unto Sinai, there by letter you decide, in your sounds and by your sighs, you made harmony. Unto ancient unto skies, parallel by rule and life, law intended deep inside, this tranquility. – 11.29.2014 – דָּנִיֵּאל


הכל (Everything)


In the land of canyons, division of earth, there he gave me everything, there he gave birth!

A fissure of water, that before time, a raw blink of heaven that follows this rhyme, and there in the canyon, a soul of some kind, that ask for your blessing, when dust blocks the shine. I’ve climbed on the ramparts of Merovingian kings, danced with a beggar who thought he a queen, sponsored addicts in circles so round, ran through the mountains where ice makes a sound. I’ve held fallen children with wounds in their minds, traversed her body with love for my mind, and oh forever, sun ever shine, it is everything, you’ve given everything….I’m born everything!

In the land of canyons, division of earth, there he gave me everything, there he gave me birth!

Enter the dragon, who cannot shine, earth sowed with salt, a demon not kind. A rage of depression, decision within, a kinship of sinners, a cousin of din. Its bite with a vengeance, I bite it on back, a cousin of judgment that fills something lacked. A balance of needing, of wanton pure ill, all canyons have snakes now, because of his will. I’d tell you a story, you’d not believe true, until you’d sat wanting and weighed yourself through, and oh forever sun shine, it is everything, you’ve given everything….I’m born everything!

In the land of canyons, division of earth, there he gave me everything, there he gave birth!

Sand filters water in canyons so deep, water produces a cleansing replete, and from my seed children that produce your hand, a lifetime of climbing to fulfill this plan. I’ve held on to heroes that died not so old, with burning judged weakness, their stories untold, I’ve become a servant to those who fight back, and filled all my kingdom with those who have lacked. The canyon of your love has held nothing back, its talons and healing have broken my back, and oh forever sun shine, it is everything, you’ve given everything….I’m born everything!

In the land of canyons, division of earth, there he gave me everything, there he gave birth!

For my fellow traveler and friend Momus who is seeking everything! – 11.17.2014 – דָּנִיֵּאל

Eric Carmen – Everything


23 (Revised for the Blue)


מִזְמוֹר לְדָוִד: יְהוָה רֹעִי, לֹא אֶחְסָר.

There’s a blue moon in the sky that told you why, she’s the shepherd, she’s the keep, she’s the warmth inside your sleep, breathing with you, deep to deep watching Philistines that seethe, and still you hunger. Is that a feeling, for a sheep, a famine, or a leap filled with wonder?

When I gaze at Adonai, Shekinah circles wide, watching my old globes of cold, taking notice that I’m old, and she kisses me so long, how strange, my wounded heart beats strong, I’d forgotten I was wrong, strange a spirit, cannot see, I’m as quiet as I can be, then the thunder.

In blue light I have fallen, staggered hunger in my calling, born a number. I have gazed, lost and fighting, amazed, in terror’s sighting, I bow down, I am raised, scattered sounds of tongues detained. Is it my mouth you’ve obtained? Should I ask, while you explain?

בִּנְאוֹת דֶּשֶׁא, יַרְבִּיצֵנִי; עַל-מֵי מְנֻחוֹת יְנַהֲלֵנִי.

On inerrant you fill the room, making light of my gloom, and still I can’t believe, a little longer. Teach me to be a little stronger. Favorably sleeping dreamless, as you make my conscience free, someday I believe, I might can see. Serotonin, for belief, it’s all within a reach, like my reasons he maketh me. To lay on down and sometimes cry, let this life just pass me by, for a season. Hashem you promised me, let these sounds, be like the sea ever still that lets me sleep.

נַפְשִׁי יְשׁוֹבֵב; יַנְחֵנִי בְמַעְגְּלֵי-צֶדֶק, לְמַעַן שְׁמוֹ.

Whatever refining in destiny’s well, that has sought out to still my will, it has wizened my features, and deepened my skills and restored those sprites that like me. You have instilled, changes that quicken me, light that straightens paths before me. In your deified eyes, I believe, I know why, there is sapphire strength that guides me.

גַּם כִּי-אֵלֵךְ בְּגֵיא צַלְמָוֶת, לֹא-אִירָא רָע– כִּי-אַתָּה עִמָּדִי; שִׁבְטְךָ וּמִשְׁעַנְתֶּךָ,    הֵמָּה יְנַחֲמֻנִי.

There’s a lack of a conscience from the children of Cain that believes in the anger and the coming of shame. They march on our children, they eat of our feast they do under others of that which they seek. In times that I walk through the valley of grief with strangers all around me, but this I believe, you give of the pleasure of all that you keep, to watch and walk beside me.

תַּעֲרֹךְ לְפָנַי, שֻׁלְחָן–    נֶגֶד צֹרְרָי; ִּשַּׁנְתָּ בַשֶּׁמֶן רֹאשִׁי, כּוֹסִי רְוָיָה.

Forever this table an indigo treat, a blanket of fortune, that’s spread as a feast, in opportune timing, and delicate rhyme, you make me to shine, while darkness declines. Forever you want me, forever in blue, forever creator descendent in you. She builds me in moonlight, and traces my steps, and shows me to wonder, no something is lacked. This mercy and fairness, and freeness of will, forever not wanting, forever is real……..

  אַךְ, טוֹב וָחֶסֶד יִרְדְּפוּנִי– כָּל-יְמֵי חַיָּי; ְשַׁבְתִּי בְּבֵית-יְהוָה, לְאֹרֶךְ יָמִים.

FOREVER – 06.30.2014 – דָּנִיֵּאל


Dusk & Resurrection (Cycles)_v2


I begin here in winter, the air more translucent and conductive, breathing falling.  In dusk, my face ever changing, your cycles before me.  I stood in sapphire lightning, feeling Hashem’s love consistent in all forms of reason synthesize me.  I suppose it was want, mixed with compassion and need that just kept whispering and giving until I prayed that it would give me my leave.  Dusk is seldom a rite in the dominion of Yotsehr Or’, but on that day, that star bound shrinking day, when the winds poured with their sweet soulful waters, that interesting day, HaKadosh, Baruch Hu kissed my mouth with life and made me, there was dusk, sounding twilight until darkness became like glass.  From my entrance dusk cries out to dusk, in answer light cries out to light and E’in Sof eternal rung unto rung I climbed and was delivered.

Ripping husk of famine, layer upon layer, it recalls me and this second time it leaves me.  Sound grows deeper at dusk, the light specters that have been playing most of the day turn their age and the sparkle in their eye settles, somewhat like watching the sand descend to its last grain in the hourglass, the window shade descending on a bright winter day.  Adon Olam,in dusk my assignment, my lasting grace.  This worn shelter you have stated, this internal wisdom you created, my delicate seed.  This is a wilderness in which you play my destiny, this bone held lodging upon sinking sand.  In unadorned razed ramparts I ask you my Emet, and with your energy, with your consideration, without pause, YHWH-Rapha you become me.  No entity, no earthbound accommodation, beyond me separation calls out to separation, in answer atom calls out to atom and HaMakom present rung unto rung I climbed and was received.

Genetic revelation, prognosis by change, a gift of resurrection, infernal insight, enflamed creation, dawn it rides hard before me, HaRachaman in mercy, aware never leaving unto you before sapphire, I am.  Electrical destiny, where you take me Ehiyeh sh’Ehiyeh, I am before me resurrection you release me to fly!  Renewal awakened, blind judgment forsaken, these questions are answered I will follow no dark prophet, let alone will you ever let me die.  Uri Gol blessed beauty in this your era, resurrection from fire, a place of your kindness, here surrounded by dross Mechayeh Metim returning forever you have given me breath.  This is thunder unrestrained by behavior, revived before Eden to see G-ds pure eyes.  In life of this Torah, a resurrection as blind calls out to blind, in answer sight calls out to sight and Tzur Israel resurrects me so that rung after rung I climb and I am born with fire in my feet, Adoshem, one G-D of creation I am resurrected free. – דָּנִיֵּאל 04/06/2014

This Passover

You tell me to look outside me this Passover, to actualize an infinite need. It seems strange, you asking me for holiness, for blessing a harvest, you of oneness, the lock of my key. A fable inside me that sparks an old story that terminates spirit if I don’t believe, a deathly hollows of blood for your glory of ransomed sinners sowed from death’s seed. You quietly whisper don’t look on that angel, that left hand of judgment that floats by your door, wait until morning to build love an altar, deliver your kindness, compassion in deeds.

You tell me to look outside me this Passover, enter a chamber that feels like a storm. In whispers of moonlight, craft of your measure, Hashem how you beg me to let you control. You built me from nothing, in thoughts of first labor, molded my lips from where angels cry. That kindness you left me to pass on forever, a definite wisdom, not held in a lie, an ember of softness that glows on forever, Tiferet Yisrael that screams when I cry. Blessing ingenious from light on forever, dealt on endeavor where destiny lies. No longer forgiven, free now forever one G-d of my story, no longer to die.

You tell me to look outside me this Passover, to swear my allegiance in scarlet laid skies. Adonai I bless you I stand now before you, and gasp at the reason you breathe through my life. The words of old scars are taken from me, incandescently you cherish me, and sing a lullaby for me to repeat. Ruach ha-kodesh you have learned to tear out my heart and I do not bleed, in the scheme of things you have dealt me the reason for why I must learn to fly. You tell me to look outside me this Passover, something loved, something new, and in this puzzle in this confusing rhyme, I find your one light. – דָּנִיֵּאל 03/29/2014

 

 

Whispers by autumn (A Prayer of New Days)


Whispers by autumn, they rise and they go, no voices just writing and bearing a witness of the light that raises my soul. Sweet gift of the union, the magic of man, the budding reunion of Torah, a kiss on my forehead and hand. You take and you sing me, like psalms of the heavens, a child’s understanding, a deep heavy rhythm, incredible numbers, the wording, for glory like comfort when sleeping in the seal when you gently pass me by. Adonai-Nissi, a breath worth chanting, a ratable cleansing, a curse or a blessing, the words are written in autumn by my hand.

Whispers by autumn, like shadows of love, your gaze in my fallen hands, suddenly, that critique so old is commanded in shades of sapphire. Scores are summoned, who will understand, impulsivity, the wind of YHWH reeling like thunder in the cortex of my passion. Now my pen dances, and will not harbor what used to be me. You will not judge me like some forlorn spirit disgraced in this electrical fallen age, rather you consider me immortal, and my sin you consider equal in phenomenon to your compassion. My autumn saves me with vespers enchanted, and in my thought I write the wonder of you.

Whispers by autumn, beholden grace in syllables reserved for the nomenclature tangled in the wakes of angels. Sight well hidden now risen, born and elaborated, given to numbers and directions, measuring figuratively by given perspectives this new temple. That building of written psalm that Teit-Vav has considered constructed under autumn sight for me. What was silent, has disappeared, a phrase believed is written living, a word holy, committed deeper than any living memory. Now invade me, cast me to that place of living, and I will praise you in rhyme. Whispers by autumn, they rise and they go, no voices just writing and bearing a witness of the light that raises my soul.דָּנִיֵּאל 03/07/2014