The Lucid Sword of Opacity by P.D. Gourlais

Allusions

2012-02-09T10:37:00.001-08:00

Clustered reflections
erupt out of oblivion.
Shattering midnight,
they burst out of nothing
leaving remnants
of recollections.
Speech, barely audible
to the ear,
murmurs through wavelengths
that only empty space can hear.
Desolation is the dream
which awakens the subconscious.
It aspires to never die.
Intelligence transforms itself
out of particles of sky.
Inquiries carry on ad infinitum.

P.D. Gourlais

Demolished

2012-02-08T21:06:00.000-08:00

Annihilated inside.
The familiar pain returns
more forceful this time
than I remember.
There is the list
of things
that went wrong
but there are no answers
as to why these things happened.

Who takes time to sort out
the nonsense of the mind?
People don't want
what they cannot rationalize.

So, they sit,
in silent condemnation,
and they criticize
that which they cannot understand.

They used to lynch unlucky people like me.
The lone wolves and recluses
have always been easy target practice.

Now, their violence is to pretend
we don't exist.

Their ignorance gives them
a false sense of security and power.

The pariah, who cannot belong,
withdraws from everyone.
It is too risky to come out of the shadows,
and to be in danger due to some serious, social threats.

That familiar pain returns with anger to protect;
an anger that burns so intensely,
there is hope for purification of the mind and emotions.

There is space for love to return.
In falling apart, we construct ourselves back together.

P.D. Gourlais

The Horse

2012-02-08T18:53:00.000-08:00

"My strength is as the strength of ten / Because my heart is pure." - Alfred, Lord Tennyson

An untamed mare, in full stride, is madcap and daring.
Unbridled, she is free to roam.

The world has no boundaries
for a spirit who runs with the wind.
She holds her head with confidence and pride.
The horizon is her home.

She has the power to journey faraway.
A distant, instinctual echo calls out to her.
She pursues the unknown
across uncharted territory.

She is a magnificent creature
sculpted from nature.
She is sinewy and strong.

When she chooses her Master,
she gives her loyalty and trust for life.

She will submit
but only to the one who deserves her respect.

P.D. Gourlais

The Captain by Giuseppe Ungaretti (Il capitano di Ungaretti)

2012-02-07T20:44:00.000-08:00

I was always ready for departures.

When you have secrets, night, you're merciful.

When as a child I woke up
Startled, I'd soothe myself listening
To howlings in the hollow street-
Stray dogs. More than the little lamp
I was always ready for departures.

When you have secrets, night, you're merciful.

When as a child I woke up
Startled, I'd soothe myself listening
To howlings in the hollow street-
Stray dogs. More than the little lamp
That burned forever in that room
Near the Madonna, they seemed
Like mystical company.

And it was not in chasing
Echoes from before my birth,
I surprised myself with heart, a man?

But when, night, your face was bare
And cast on rock
I was nothing but fiber, elemental,
Crazed, apparent in every object,
Lowliness crushed me.

The Captain was serene.

(The moon came into the sky)

He was tall and never bowed.

(It climbed into a cloud)

No one saw him fall,
No one heard him gasping for air,
He reappeared laid carefully inside a furrow,
His hands were on his chest.

I closed his eyes.

(The moon is a veil)

He seemed made of feathers.

Il capitano

Fui pronto a tutte le partenze.

Quando hai segreti, notte hai pietà.

Se bimbo mi svegliavo
Di soprassalto, mi calmavo udendo
Urlanti nell'assente via,
Cani randagi. Mi parevano
Più del lumino alla Madonna
Che ardeva sempre in quella stanza,
Mistica compagnia.

E non ad un rincorrere
Echi d'innanzi nascita,
Mi sorpresi con cuore, uomo?

Ma quando, notte, il tuo viso fu nudo
E buttato sul sasso
Non fui che fibra d'elementi,
Pazza, palese in ogni oggetto,
Era schiacciante l'umiltà.

Il Capitano era sereno.

(Venne in cielo la luna)

Era alto e mai non si chinava.

(Andava su una nube)

Nessuno lo vide cadere,
Nessuno l'udi rantolare,
Riapparve adagiato in un solco,
Teneva le mani sul petto.

Gli chiusi gli occhi.

(La luna è un velo)

Parve di piume.

Luster

2012-02-07T14:34:00.000-08:00

Affection in the eyes.
Treasured devotion, there,
in a gentle stare.
A halo of light
circles the head
like the rings of Saturn,
and a smile
mirrors the magnitude
of the Milky Way.

Being alive is to become
splendidly human
and innocent again and again.

In this unfathomable Universe,
phenomenon arises
and falls instantaneously.
In a single synapse,
birth, death and rebirth
flow through invisible circuits
of the organic self,
while all the while,
through one glance,
Love is the power
that drives us home.

P.D. Gourlais

Speechless

2012-02-06T17:36:00.001-08:00

I cannot want what isn't mine.

Desire is a breath.
Here one minute. Gone the next.
No consideration for time.

A poet cannot rhyme
Without meter and stress.
Words alone cannot express
The holy and sublime.

The Creator of the ideal
is infinitely divine.

Possession is a cause of death.
In this respect, it may be best,
To never touch what isn't mine.

P.D. Gourlais

Mental Disorders: The Greatest Diseases?

2012-02-03T21:25:00.000-08:00

“One of the greatest diseases is to be nobody to anybody.”- Mother Teresa

A mental illness diagnosis has serious, social implications. Every culture on earth reacts differently to mentally ill people. We are just beginning to have dialogues on how to treat individuals with mental diseases. Our institutions are finally beginning to speak about it because the problem has become so enormous, we can no longer afford to ignore it. We are setting into place social policies which help those who suffer with mental illness. And, we are training those affected by victims of mental illness on how to cope and handle challenging situations at home, work, school, and in other parts of the community. Even in law enforcement.

Research shows that as we age, our risk is greater for developing mental illness. 1 in 3 people will suffer from a mental disorder at some point in their lives. This means that as individuals, we have a 33.3 percent chance of experiencing it. In a family of six, that's two people- diagnosed or not. In a classroom of 30, that's roughly TEN! So teachers, next time you look at your roll, keep these numbers in mind! You may be feeling defensive and thinking, "My calling in life was not to be a nurse! I'm not a doctor! I don't have the cure!" But to many, you are a hero, and when you go to work each day, remind yourself how much power you have to positively impact the lives of your students. One small act of kindness could lead a person in the right direction. Because of you, they may make a better decision or choice, which might lead to their recovery.

These data are excellent indicators that it is critical for us to have conversations about mental illness. In doing so, we can stay proactive and we can prevent unnecessary, harmful situations from occurring.

We like to discuss, "isms" in this day and age. One "ism" we have yet to say much about is OSTRACISM. This pervasive practice is widely accepted by some in the Animal Kingdom as a way to punish those with mental illness. Nothing could be more cruel, heartless or insensitive to a human being than the silent treatment. Sometimes, we may do this out of our own fear. Like us, animals also use their ignorance to single out the weakest creature or "link". When we ostracize or in other words ignore someone, we are basically saying to their face without words: YOU DO NOT EXIST. It is a false instinct that ostracism strengthens our social circles. What we need is quite the opposite- INCLUSION!

Though we have started acknowledging the need for mental health education, there is still a STIGMA. Once a person is diagnosed with mental illness, they are labeled for life, as it is presently believed there are no cures. Psychiatric hospitalization is used for observation and generally medications are the primary method of treatment or control. Medical records will follow a patient to the grave. In a digital world where our privacy laws are becoming more transparent, there is cause for genuine concern regarding confidentiality.

Nevertheless, we should encourage openness in a safe space. For many patients, telling their story is the brave and courageous thing to do. Through writing and speaking, the process becomes very therapeutic. Mental health patients need open dialogue. Most need someone who is willing to listen. But most of all, what we all need in EXCESS is compassion. A little bit goes a long way! Never underestimate your influence.

To mirror Mother Teresa's quote, be somebody to anybody! This is where you may begin...

P.D. Gourlais

Some Insights into Mental Illness

2012-02-02T20:15:00.000-08:00

My mother and I stopped by the hospital to visit my friend this evening. For years, he has suffered from schizophrenia. He's well past middle age now, and still having trouble. His medication may not be working, and they're speaking of doing electroconvulsive therapy on him. I really hate to see them take this course in his treatment because he's absolutely brilliant. I've read that inducing grand mal seizures increases the chance that the patient will experience memory loss, and that the benefits, if any, only help short term. I don't want to see him become incapacitated in any way.

The practice of ECT terrifies me. His mind is what I love most about him. It is one of his unique traits. Albeit, medications also alter chemicals in the brain, which over short and long term therapy, have serious side effects for the physical body, and the mind. I lovingly refer to antipsychotics, anti-depressants, mood stabilizers and anti-anxiety medication as "white man's poisons". Unfortunately for some of us, it's either take the poisons or not take the poisons and risk becoming unstabilized again. Vicious cycle, no? And, what to speak about self-medicating? Alcohol & tobacco are two legal options, which are popular with the general public, and they don't even require a prescription! Not to mention, both are extremely unhealthy when used in excess.

Tonight, as usual, we listened to my friend think out loud. He loves to tell stories and jokes. He considers himself to be a comedian. As he is storytelling, he describes many delusions that he's having; ones that he doesn't recognize are not real or true. He is completely innocent, and he believes them all.

As a patient myself (in remission), I like to call this kind of thinking "magical thinking". Why? Because in mental "episodes" the thought process goes wild and free. The mind is like an untamed stallion. The mind expands outward, inward, backward and forward, in every direction, simultaneously. And, a lot of imagination and intensity is required to continue on the mental episode quest. You could say we have visions because we see the possibilities of everything, in every situation, for better or worse. There is more to a manic episode than just linear thinking. It involves acute awareness and paying attention to "seemingly" significant details. The brain feels like it is more flexible, and its plasticity feels more tangible and real. Some patients actually feel the top of their heads burning because there's so much excess energy near the crown of the head!

Also, there are powerful moments of synchronicity, which lead the mind to become further obsessed and compulsive about how we interpret signs, why they appear when they do, and what subjective meaning they give us. Since these signs arise in our very own environment, we take them personally. Maybe we have accessed a sense of self that is limitless. Some of us believe we have superpowers. For example, that we're going to be billionaires. Or, we think we are the Buddha, Krishna, God, Jesus Christ, a prophet or a prophetess or any important, historical figure. Imagine having glimpses of infinity (God consciousness) as your thoughts rapidly cycle from one topic to the next.

To the patient, everything feels connected in a logical, ordered fashion yet to others on the outside, looking in, you may appear disoriented, incoherent, distressed and agitated. Outsiders cannot piece together a similar reality, as it is your reality, and your reality alone that you own. The patient is the only one seeing the "big picture", which often times, expands outside of the framework of what's "realistic" to a general population.

Therefore, there is often disharmony between patients, their families, friends, doctors and staff. For the patient, the boundaries of thoughts all but disappear, and it's nearly impossible to decipher social cues. This, in effect, is why it's so difficult for patients to control their behaviors in the beginning stages of an episode. Ultimately, thoughts lead us to take actions. Odd or bizarre thoughts will create strange behaviors. Many patients who are having episodes are no longer able to recognize what is acceptable or not acceptable in society.

For the average person to understand what mental patients experience is futile. Unless, of course, they have intentionally altered their own minds. Some people choose to do this with recreational drugs, for example. Being manic or "high" is euphoric, and the feeling can even be addictive just like it is to drug addicts. This is one reason some patients do not persist in taking their medications. It feels terrific to be on the edge!

My friend labels some of his delusions as "his dreams". Don't we all have a right to DREAM BIG? Most people I've met with or without mental illness want to see all of their desires fulfilled. We are no different. With other thoughts, he recreates details of events that have happened, which he perceives he experienced. After spending many, many hours with him, I've realized that even for me, it's challenging to comprehend what is going on in his subjective Universe. After all, it is only he who can smell, touch, taste, hear, and see what he is experiencing from moment to moment. There is one question ALL shrinks LOVE to ask. "Are you hearing voices? Are you seeing things?" This is to measure the disconnect between a patient and the reality of everybody else.

In his episodes, my friend is decoding and interpreting all the stimulation he has throughout the day and night with his six senses. I add in the sixth sense because this is where we might have been subjected to events that are mystical in nature (or as my friend likes to call them, "spiritual experiences"), and the signs and moments lived feel as if they are not a part of this world. Think of faith. How do you quantify it? Does it make sense according to reason? Facts we believe, based on faith, usually cannot be proved with hard, scientific evidence.

The most simple example I can think of is to have you think of a blue feather. If you were walking around believing you would find a blue feather, say, on the city sidewalk, and you went for months in search of this feather, some people might call you crazy. They might say, "You'll never find that blue feather! There are not flocks of bluebirds flying around town!" And, you may even give up on yourself and believe that you truly are crazy, and that your hope, wish, prayer, desire, whatever you want to call it, is not going to manifest. One day, you decide to throw your hands in the air and stop seeking for the feather.

It's that very day, you are walking with your head down. You feel hopeless, lost, and sad. You need a sign to lift your spirit; TO GUIDE you to where you should be- mentally, physically, and emotionally. To your amazement, you find the blue feather when you least expected it! Imagine how empowered you would feel if this scenario really happened to you.

I use the blue feather as an example of faith because I had someone tell me the story about manifesting a blue feather. One day, I was walking down the sidewalk, and lo and behold, I found a blue feather right in the middle of the city! Of course, I still think it's a special sign but to a psychiatrist, it's just a blue feather. Believe me, they will take all the fun out of the "magical thinking" whenever possible, and that's what the medications essentially do. Their job is to chemically kill and destroy anything "unrealistic" in the thought process.

For a soul searching for meaning, such an example could feel synchronisitic. Many patients I have met, who have gone over the edge, often have chains of events that happen to them, which overwhelm them because each event appears to be synchronistic. To the average person, a synchronistic event happens once in a while. To a patient with mental illness, this could happen several times per second. In less than a minute, you could see a bumper sticker, a license plate, a billboard, somebody says something suspicious, the car behind you honks, a dog runs in front of you, and the light turns green at the moment you exhale! Well, these are more examples of how quickly our thinking can "waterfall". You get the point!

I truly believe if we could unmask our many, many selves, and shed the roles and titles that we assign to ourselves, we'd be bare naked like the day we were born. Imagine a mind that is capable of returning to that place of infancy and innocence. This is what is meant by purifying the mind. By dropping our self-importance, and conceptions about ourselves and the way in which we perceive how the world works, we let go and give in to our natural state.

Apart from our two distinctive treatment plans, this is the difference between me and my friend. I have DETACHED from searching for meaning. For me, the quest became too exhausting, and not pleasant. For him, he is unable to give up his episodic quests. He invests enormous amounts of time and energy into his search for meaning. None of us should ever have to give up the "spiritual" quest altogether but I think, at some point, giving up is a step on the road to recovery. It does us good to stop our mind from seeking outside of ourselves, and even from devoting too much time to self-introspection. When do we allow ourselves to be spacious and just be in all our complexity (simplicity).

Many mental health patients are being told that their minds are sick, and a doctor needs to fix them because they are "off" or they are judged (sometimes in Mental Health Court) as being a harm to themselves or others. I think the root causes of the problem are rarely addressed. Experts conducting pure science and research attest that brain chemicals are responsible for pressured speech, racing thoughts, etc. The research shows there is some truth to the brain chemical argument, however, I am only adding that there is more to mental illness than biochemistry. We do, after all, have some free will and choice in choosing our own thought patterns. And, I'm trying to illustrate that the mind is like a rocket powered engine. There is an incredible force behind it, which naturally always searches for meaning. No matter how many answers we give ourselves, our mind will always seek the limitless; the outerbounds. By design, this is how the mind operates. It may have no boundaries, therefore, it cannot be satisfied with final conclusions, especially during manic episodes.

So, what are we going to do? Medicate, lock-up and shock the whole world? Has anyone else noticed this epidemic of diagnoses in the past decade or two? Before our own eyes, we may be turning the human race into pharm-dependent zombies. Some of our most brilliant, and eloquent people (many artists and important, historical figures) had the freedom and space in their lives and their minds to freely express themselves without medications (chemical restraints), imprisonment (physical restraints) or ECT.

That's all I will say about this for tonight. I may have more to say tomorrow. I have an outline for my next post, which you might find interesting. Until then, stay posted!

Thanks for reading this far...

P.D. Gourlais

The Passing of Wisława Szymborska (1923-2012)

2012-02-01T18:40:00.000-08:00

Everything

Everything-
a bumptious, stuck-up word.
It should be written in quotes.
It pretends to miss nothing,
to gather, hold, contain, and have.
While all the while it's just
a shred of gale.

by Wisława Szymborska (1923-2012)

I didn't believe it when I saw it on Twitter. The news that Szymborska passed away today. I dug deeper into news feeds, and discovered that the tweets were actually true. I feel devastated.

As a poet and a writer, Szymborska carried me through many moments of inspiration. I admired her quiet, introverted way. She did not promote herself too aggressively as she only published, on average, every four to five years during her lifetime. After her 1996 Nobel Prize, she was cast into the limelight but the attention never captivated her. She was shy in the spotlight, and throughout her long life, she remained a humble, Polish celebrity. I have a feeling that her work will be even more revered posthumously. She made her unique mark in history, and for that, we shall never forget her.

I ask myself this evening, what was it about Szymborska that moved me to admire her like I do?

I am sitting with this question. I do not have the answer. This, while being amazed that someone from my grandmother's generation impacted me so deeply. I turn to my books tonight to revisit the literary legacy that she left us. There, the answers are in the very lines of her poetry. How is that for Zen? To understand, you must read. What good would it do for me to write a diatribe about my Szymborska passion?
She is difficult to compare to any other poet- past, present or future. For the best, possible experience, read on!

Clouds by Wisława Szymborska

I'd have to be really quick
to describe clouds-
a split second's enough
for them to start being something else.

Their trademark:
they don't repeat a single
shape, shade, pose, arrangement.

Unburdened by memory of any kind,
they float easily over the facts.

What on earth could they bear witness to?
They scatter whenever something happens.

Compared to clouds,
life rests on solid ground,
practically permanent, almost eternal.

Next to clouds
even a stone seems like a brother,
someone you can trust,
while they're just distant, flighty cousins.

Let people exist if they want,
and then die, one after another:
clouds simply don't care
what they're up to
down there.

And so their haughty fleet
cruises smoothly over your whole life,
and mine, still incomplete.

They aren't obliged to vanish when we're gone.
They don't have to be seen while sailing on.

The Spirit of Wolf

2012-01-26T20:00:00.000-08:00

(12 of 30 Villanelles)

"I would not think to touch the sky with two arms" - Sappho F. 52

Impossible, it seems, to surge out of the black.
To a mortal who's in prison, light is dim.
The villians in the shadows will attack

As every fear and weakness, they do track.
From any point of view, the outlook is grim.
Impossible, it seems, to surge out of the black.

Though a single beam may breakout of a crack,
The captive is beaten down again when
The villians in the shadows attack.

Flanking prey from the front and back,
Aggressors do not see the value of their kin.
Impossible, it seems, to surge out of the black,

Yet the strongest Wolf, who leads the pack,
Is she who knows the Elite will always win.
The villians in the shadows will attack

And their evil is born from all they lack.
Keep on fighting without EVER giving in!
Impossible, it seems, to surge out of the black.
The villians in the shadows will attack.

P.D. Gourlais

Longing

2012-01-21T18:33:00.000-08:00

Let my spirit soar
to my forgotten home.
Let me pass beyond the door
where I won't go alone.

Let me feel your embrace
to ease my despair.
Let me see your face
and your gentle stare.

Answer my knock,
so I know you're there.
Take me for a walk.
I'll go anywhere.

The journey is not long
with you by my side.
Tell me that I'm strong
with you as my guide.

Show me your light
with the soft words you say.
Be a beacon bright
so night will turn to day.

Promise you'll wait
as long as there's forever.
Be my one soulmate
and think of leaving never.

I am a simple being
with complicated needs.
Love can only be healing
for a heart that bleeds.

The strength of your hand
gives me so much joy.
Together we expand
and nothing can destroy.

P.D. Gourlais

My Moonbeam

2012-01-19T18:27:00.000-08:00

(11 of 30 Villanelles) in my new book of poems. :)

Was it all just a dream?
The life that we made?
You were my moonbeam.

Nothing is what it seems.
The memories, they fade.
Was it all just a dream?

There used to be a gleam
In your eyes- so unfraid.
You were my moonbeam.

We were swimming upstream,
And sometimes, we would wade.
Was it all just a dream?

Existence was so easy between
the sunlight and the shade.
You were my moonbeam.

Fate always intervenes.
You couldn't have stayed.
Was it all just a dream?
You were my moonbeam.

P.D. Gourlais

The Paths

2012-01-08T14:51:00.000-08:00

Lost the truth only to find my way
back to the Path again. So many paths
to follow, which ones would I choose?
All of these decisions to make have me
so confused. Sometimes, I lose my breath
and I panic. In other times, on overload,
I become too manic. Taking pills to settle
down but nothing beats the best-
sitting on my ass for a minute
and taking 6 deep breaths!

The world is hurling through outer space
and I'm trying to figure out where I belong.
Just when I think I've found a fit
something goes wrong. I'm always on
a whim, spontaneous and free. I only
want to be with people who understand me.
I'm capricious. Crazy (if you will). I'm also
a Polyglot Poet with a little bit of skill.
If you want to know my dream, it's simple-
to write.
I just need a microphone so I can recite
some poetry for people who desire
to be entertained. I've been inside
this box too long where I feel restrained!

Let me out! Let me out! I've got work to do.
Discovered though no path is the same,
they all have intrinsic value.
Put aside right and wrong to see Universal Truths.

Heart Pain

2012-01-07T22:14:00.000-08:00

The end was a segue into
a new beginning.
Silence, yes, but not without
a cause, our paths diverged.
Did I know you then?
This time, I seem to be dreaming.
This time is filled with emotional memories.
Who are you now, Bright Star?
Who is he who keeps you smiling?
Obsolete, I take my place in the background.
I have tested my limits. I have gone over the edge.
My fear is still gigantic. I must face it.
I need more courage to give away the gem
of my heart again. Sometimes, you're ruthless, no?
This way in which I am attached to you.
Sometimes, my sadness and ignorance is so strong
I feel as if my weak heart is in a vice.
Squeezing it, like a sponge, my blood runs out very thin.
My head is undone and I spin and spin.
Those how's and why's. O! How they curse me!
How could an enchanting story end so badly?
Why do you pretend I no longer exist?
Silence is abusive. It is a weapon
used for control, manipulation, bitterness and hatred.
Silence ostracizes victims of anger.
Or is not speaking simply a matter of pride?
All I know is part of me died when you said,
without words, "I don't love you".
As for me, my new beginning is to always
love you even as you change and to ask:
"Who am I loving?"
Myself first, then you might get
a second chance.

P.D. Gourlais

Sweetworded Desires

2012-01-07T19:07:00.000-08:00

Honey-tongued lover,
heavy with lust,
hear me out:

It's never too late.

It's never too late
to have a lingering
love like ours.

Hearts fall in love
like lightning strikes,

and pulses quicken
from the light
of the eyes.

Your hardened lips
will soften
with my touch.

Your hands
will be limp,

and you will tremble
when I take you
by the wrists.

Say your sweetworded desires,
and like spells,
they will happen.

Slide into my fragrant hive,
and lose your naked self

in a garden bed
of fresh flowers.

I am a rosebud
waiting to open
before your radiant eyes.

P.D. Gourlais

Out In The Cold

2011-12-22T09:24:00.000-08:00

Out in the cold
with nowhere to go
a hungry belly
and a disheartened soul
a portrait of poverty
a begging bowl
grainy skin
and rugged clothes
a make-shift hut
in the great outdoors

Out in the cold
with no one to call
a true nomad
a heavy load to haul
eyes filled with lead
a back against the wall
no hope for a job
no money at all
quite the contrast
from the rich in town hall.

P.D. Gourlais

So, You Found Love

2011-12-17T15:29:00.000-08:00

So, you found love.
Love peered
at you like a mirror
and your eyes leapt there
alone, for a while,
but filled with pride.

As did Icarus,
you braved the Sun,
and up high
in the atmosphere,
you lost your feathers
and your wax-made wings
folded in from the heat.

What did you expect?
To fly when you had
been warned?
To show off
your immortality?

It is certain
that your hubris
electrified everyone.
Puzzled them really.

They welcomed
your mystery
with hype
like they do
when meteorites
strike the earth.

Spiritless, momentarily,
you soon came to life
to startle the multitudes.

With the flutter
of your breath,
(their gasps in unison)
you quivered,
and as you awoke
your Beloved
whispered,
"I love you too."

A fallen hero(ine),
you embraced
humility,
and so,
you found love.
A line of love
extending forever
into the Universe;
parallel and nonpareil.

P.D. Gourlais

Goodbye (A Triolet)

2011-12-14T12:38:00.000-08:00

I escaped from my despair
Like clouds evaporate in the sky.
Pain more than I could bear,
I escaped from my despair.
Hints of you arise everywhere
but I bowed out and said goodbye.
I escaped from my despair
Like clouds evaporate in the sky.

P.D. Gourlais

A Woman With So Much Soul

2011-12-09T10:38:00.001-08:00

(10 of 30 Villanelles from my new book)

I am a woman with so much soul
you simply can't suppress me.
My senses and emotions overflow.

I decide who I am, where to go,
and every moment how to be!
I am a woman with so much soul.

When I limitlessly smile, I glow
as I attract love and positivity.
My senses and emotions overflow.

I am a perplexing individual though
you might try to decode my mystery.
I am a woman with so much soul.

I desire to be Queen of the show
for I have power to make people lively.
My senses and emotions overflow.

After all the stresses I undergo,
I have not lost my sensitivity.
I am a woman with so much soul,
My senses and emotions overflow.

P.D. Gourlais

My Heart Was Not Made To Break (A Triolet)

2011-12-08T10:37:00.000-08:00

My heart was not made to break,
I can turn my pain to stone.
Harder than a frozen lake,
My heart was not made to break.
You may melt me and I will ache
But I can stand on my own.
My heart was not made to break
I can turn my pain to stone.

P.D. Gourlais

I Shall Lift Up My Head In Victory (A Triolet) by P.D. Gourlais

2011-12-07T22:06:00.000-08:00

For Florence Griffith Joyner
(December 21, 1959 – September 21, 1998)

Why put my head down for rest
When my work is far from through?
Why settle now, for second best?
Why, O! Why put my head down for rest.
Somebody make a citizen's arrest!
I won't stop over insulting reviews.
Why put my head down for rest
When my work is far from through?

In a Lover's Heart by P.D. Gourlais

2011-12-07T19:21:00.000-08:00

(9 of 30 Villanelles Inspired by Enya's song, "Hope Has A Place")

Buried within a lover's heart,
A whisper weaves a sigh.
Nothing animated is apart.

Humankind is made to chart
The Atlas of the sky
Buried within a lover's heart.

Souls ripen into Works of Art.
All spirits are made to fly.
Nothing animated is apart.

A simple word may stop or start
A hearth glowing bright,
Buried within a lover's heart.

The Beloved is invariably smart.
Sweethearts are in ample supply.
Nothing animated is apart.

If love should depart,
There's no such thing as goodbye
For buried within a lover's heart,
Nothing animated is apart.

P.D. Gourlais

Ancient Rituals by P.D. Gourlais

2011-12-04T21:52:00.001-08:00

Ancient Rituals

(8 out of 30 Villanelles)

(Inspired by Sappho, fragment 147)

"Someone will remember us, I say
Even in another time."
Our memories will not decay.

All the virgins and maidens obey
Secrets they keep which are divine.
Someone will remember us, I say.

At the altar, Muses prepare the way
To a hallowed, halcyon shrine.
Our memories will not decay.

Joining hands in a circle to pray
To Anaktoria's spirit, so sublime,
Someone will remember us, I say.

Chanting the incantations of the day,
We generously taste the holy wine.
Our memories will not decay.

As our mental barriers crumble away,
With the Goddess, our souls entwine.
Someone will remember us, I say.
Our memories will not decay.

P.D. Gourlais

Don't Grieve (A Triolet)

2011-12-04T20:36:00.000-08:00

Don't Grieve

No sense mourning for yesterday
The past is fallen ash.
Now is slipping away.
No sense mourning for yesterday.
In hindsight, Father Time is gray.
One second goes by in a flash.
No sense mourning for yesterday
The past is fallen ash.

P.D. Gourlais

Lover Lost (A Triolet) by P.D. Gourlais

2011-12-03T19:21:00.001-08:00

Every day, it feels as though I go alone.
My truest wish is for you to come back.
Without a doubt, you've left and gone.
Every day, it feels as though I go alone.
I see you distinctly and you're home.
You're in the bedroom where you unpack.
Every day, it feels as though I go alone.
My truest wish is for you to come back.

P.D. Gourlais

Never Sent That Letter by P.D. Gourlais

2011-12-03T18:17:00.000-08:00

Wounds, they are so deep
and words, they maim like swords.
Dismembered by fragmentation.

Unable to sleep
on the battlefield of love
with a weapon called Jealousy.

Blood runs thick.
Like a river it sweeps
extensively.

How far would we travel
to make amends?
The end is never fair
nor is it complete.

Unanswered questions
like to creep
within the calmest of minds.

I wouldn't have loved you
if you were not kind.

My compassion took a vacation
only for my affection
to be restored
at a later date.

By then,
it was too late,

and you
with wounds so deep
and words in your head
that I had said
which violated you
like swords,

you were dismembered
on the battlefield of love;
a love too taboo to claim.
Was your heart untrue?
Why would I pursue
such a great illusion?

Am I your embarassment
for being such a Fool?

You. Only you.

Blood runs thick
and we drink of it
until we are thirsty
no more.

Desire has no boundary.

I'm glad we found ours.

Sooner or later,
I hope you have your peace.

It might have been war
and disharmony

but now, this fight
has become unity.

P.D. Gourlais

Recovery

2011-12-03T17:32:00.000-08:00

For Dugald

A last love,
proper in conclusion,
should snip the wings
forbidding further flight.

But I, now,
reft of that confusion,
am lifted up
and speeding toward the light.

-Maya Angelou

Less Power Over Me

2011-12-03T16:52:00.000-08:00

You have less power over me.
No longer in your grip
I'm happy and I'm free.

You are a backwood reverie.
No longer under your whip,
You have less power over me.

Not part of your perfect posse,
I missed your privileged ship.
I'm happy and I'm free.

Sailing on a solitary sea,
I'm not affixed to your hip.
You have less power over me.

I was never your devotee.
Let me give you one tip-
I'm happy and I'm free.

Never were we meant for three.
I'm not reading your script.
You have less power over me.
I'm happy and I'm free.

P.D. Gourlais

Enlightenment

2011-11-30T19:20:00.000-08:00

(6 of 30 Villanelles)

In the soft eyes of the Buddha's gaze,
Unity and calm reside there.
The mirror of the mind is ablaze.

Sitting on a cushion night and day
The self matures and is more aware
In the soft eyes of the Buddha's gaze.

The artifices of consciousness amaze
While the I is shed and bared.
The mirror of the mind is ablaze.

Will the self stay or run away?
One will also see a warrior's stare
In the soft eyes of the Buddha's gaze.

Lost in the shadows, one must give way
for illusions are a commonplace affair.
The mirror of the mind is ablaze.

At the zenith, there is an array
Of sacred space that exists where
In the soft eyes of the Buddha's gaze
The mirror of the mind is ablaze.

P.D. Gourlais

Inundated (A Triolet)

2011-11-30T13:34:00.000-08:00

I drowned in her azure eyes.
There was no hope for a rescue.
Her charms were my demise.
I drowned in her azure eyes.
A captive tethered by her ties,
I lost her love and I withdrew.
I drowned in her azure eyes.
There was no hope for a rescue.

P.D. Gourlais

Twenty for Carla Quicken (1976-1996)

2011-11-29T20:56:00.000-08:00

Twenty is too young to die.
Why did you have to go?
Too abrupt to even say goodbye.

It doesn't help for me to cry
When you are buried far below.
Twenty is too young to die.

We hug in my mind's eye
for I will never let you go.
Too abrupt to even say goodbye.

Always, you will be immortalized.
You were my hopeless Van Gogh.
Twenty is too young to die.

I wish I had the power to revive
You. I guess you'll never know.
Too abrupt to even say goodbye.

Without you, I live and I survive
but I miss you- O! My brilliant soul!
Twenty is too young to die.
Too quick to even say goodbye.

P.D. Gourlais

My Voice by P.D. Gourlais

2011-11-20T21:22:00.000-08:00

For ten days,
I've been unwiding
my voice
like a stubborn ball
of string.

I've had tight knots
on which I've used my teeth
to get undone.

My tongue feels raw
from running pieces
along my lower lip and jaw.

I just want to write
but the cats
now want to play.

They see opportunity
where I am at a loss.

I get out the scissors
and I saw off
two large scraps.

They aren't perfect portions
but these ones will do.

I crinkle my brow
and try to speak
but all I hear is a squeak.

"Write that down," says
the Captain in my mind.

I do.

Looking at them
as fragments,
I might be able to construct
some kind of picture
and put it in a frame.

This will not be today
but maybe tomorrow.

P.D. Gourlais

Night Drama (A Triolet) by P.D. Gourlais

2011-11-20T19:57:00.001-08:00

Night Drama

Your face appears to me in dreams
For every night, you don't make sense.
As usual, you plot and scheme.
Your face appears to me in dreams.
Sometimes I laugh or tears stream
down my face at your expense.
Your face appears to me in dreams
For every night, you don't make sense.

Goodnight

2011-11-20T18:22:00.000-08:00

(4/30 Villanelle)

Eclipsed by the puzzles of the soul,

Particles of light leap within all life.

As mortals, we discover and grow.

Traveling, we gather what we know

Through moments of victory and strife.

Eclipsed by the puzzles of the soul.

Orbiting at both ends of the pole,

We sail oceans that are rife.

As mortals, we discover and grow.

Pitched in storms that raze and roll,

We endure the twilight of night.

Eclipsed by the puzzles of the soul.

Survival is our essential goal

While instinct drives us into fight or flight.

As mortals, we discover and grow.

Steadily, O steadily, age takes it toll

For we prepare to say goodnight.

Eclipsed by the puzzles of the soul

As mortals, we discover and grow.

P.D. Gourlais

The Professor (Triolet)

2011-11-19T20:39:00.001-08:00

The Professor (Triolet)

The Master employs the erotic to teach.
She prods pupils past their boundaries,
and propels them through their immature attractions.
The Master employs the erotic to teach,
where wall to wall must be for her own satisfaction.
These students are burdened by all they carry.
The Master employs the erotic to teach.
She prods pupils past their boundaries.

P.D. Gourlais

Fervor

2011-11-19T18:18:00.000-08:00

3/30 Villanelles

Fervor in her forbidden caress,
Night cloaks us as one.
Little by little, we undress.

Her every move is finesse.
We are two lovers spun.
Fervor in her forbidden caress.

My heart bounding in my chest
as her hands know how to strum.
Little by little, we undress.

I savor her naked zest
while she chants a primal hum.
Fervor in her forbidden caress.

Toward the peak, we are pressed
to let go of all that we've become.
Little by little, we undress.

Both arriving at the crest
with flawless creation,
Fervor in her forbidden caress.
Little by little, we undress.

P.D. Gourlais

Are You Hearing Voices?

2011-11-19T17:09:00.001-08:00

Thirst (My First Triolet)

2011-11-18T19:30:00.000-08:00

I've decided to play with Triolets this month as well.

Thirst

Hidden in my lover's eyes,

A secret to remain untold.

By her light, I'm baptized.

Hidden in my lover's eyes

and all her desire implies.

Silence, her only disguise.

Hidden in my lover's eyes,

A secret to remain untold.

P.D. Gourlais

Abandonded

2011-11-18T18:31:00.000-08:00

Abandoned

Alone again tonight.

I grapple with her words.

My muse inspires me to write.

Is it fight or flight?

My vision's blurred.

Alone again tonight.

I could be her knight

though she may think this absurd.

My muse inspires me to write.

Sitting at a page that's white,

Her company's preferred.

Alone again tonight.

Waiting for her sound byte

In a diatribe that's slurred.

My muse inspires me to write.

I struggle to ignite

A poem that is unheard.

Alone again tonight.

My muse inspires me to write.

P.D. Gourlais

Delusion

2011-11-16T19:36:00.000-08:00

Waking from the darkness of my shame,

Sauntering into the blinding Sun,

Cupid's slicing arrow took aim.

In a flash, burned by a flame,

and everything I would become,

Waking from the darkness of my shame.

O! Gentle heart, so slow to tame,

Beating to the rhythm of a drum,

Cupid's slicing arrow took aim.

I forgot my proper name;

An afflicted mind I could not outrun.

Waking from the darkness of my shame.

Drifting with nobody to blame,

In a battle that was not to be won,

Cupid's slicing arrow took aim.

Stumbling again and again,

On a journey that would never be done,

Waking from the darkness of my shame,

Cupid's slicing arrow took aim.

P.D. Gourlais

Who Is P.D. Gourlais?

2011-11-12T17:24:00.001-08:00

Prose Experiment 1

2011-11-10T21:18:00.001-08:00

She wasn't conscious of what was going on on the other side of the door. She didn't dare to face the terror she felt inside. If she opened it, the truth would be revealed. She stood there several minutes while thumbing a key in her hand. She was trembling. In this moment, power was in her hands but she hesitated. She almost felt unworthy of the knowledge waiting behind that thick, oak door to the study. She feared life would not be the same if she acted on her instincts. Yet, she also feared the consequences of walking away. She put her ear up to the door. Two women were mumbling quietly inside. A sliver of light protruded sharply below door and on to the carpet. How long they'd been in there, she didn't know. Would they ever come out? Intuition, perhaps, told her that these two concealed viragos were in no position to listen to their whimsical, spontaneous urges. She took the key, tucked it in her cotton sock and walked away. She was determined that it was better to be a revolving character uninfected by the drama and overall, alone with mystery, than to see the truth behind the menacing door. Afterall, we are becoming less and less private, so sacred spaces should exist in which we may be genuine.

(Untitled 10/13/11)

2011-10-13T21:42:00.001-07:00

We are traveling
on the same plane.
Though we may be spaced
apart, the distance
is too acute to measure.

You visit me in dreams.
I ask for your wisdom.
You see, I am confused,
like a child,
and once in a while
I need you to reassure
and validate
that what I'm doing is right.

There was a time
you were like me-
lost and unsure-
and every move
felt dangerous.

Life is like that.
The ego is afraid
to die.

If only we could
show humility
and be respectful
of emotional, raw, nudity.

P.D. Gourlais

le 29 juin. 2006

2011-10-08T22:42:00.000-07:00

Her lips closed in on the space between us. I started to confuse my fear with excitement.

"If you knew how much I wanted to, you might change your mind."

"How long has that been?"

"Just this moment."

"In the moment, there are no consequences." She shot off a devious smile.

"Teach me." I dared her.

The electricity of an unrealised kiss lingered in the air.

"In this moment," she whispered on my lips, " there are no regrets."

She embraced me. My tongue met the tip of hers as I gently found
the soft, warm cushion of her mouth.

I wanted to say I love you. Without saying it, I preserved the silence.
My eyes wandered the room considering the tendency to share my exclamation.
Our passion, the moment, was not enough. Time, not enough of it. So, this would be
a goodbye like a candy bar left in the sun when all I want to do is to eat it whole and solid.

I knew that she, this one, nourished a starving part of me. With her, I was safe. With her,
I was loved in the way nobody could care for me, for she was the most
deserving of all of my affections. She couldn't have been more grateful.
I saw my inquisitive eyes, just there, in hers. Swimming in the spirals of
her admiring gaze, I drowned in color; carmel melting my insides and I was thirsty.

"You must awaken to the body," the yogi suggested in the twighlight falling around us.
"Without awareness, you are the dark matter of the mind. Try to make sense of the sparse
light around you."

I nodded my head in solemn affirmation. I held my pose with my vision going up
to the immensity above me. Naturally, I thought of her. I thought of me. We were apart
until my imagination brought us together. I gave a half-lotus smile and continued to follow
the tendril of breath.

"Freedom is the power to be- a permission to go only where you dare to let yourself," the yogi added.
"There it is. . . " he chanted reverently, ". . . the latent force inside of you. Feel your roots. Let them
grow deep."

My heart, full circle, I bowed to him, "Namaste." I smiled bright.

This is not the end.

P.D. Gourlais

Some Thoughts about Reading and Writing by P.D. Gourlais

2011-10-06T23:30:00.001-07:00

Dare I be who I really am? An impulsive and unpredictable being who cannot harness my passions? My drive and desires alone are a testament to my lascivious, true nature. I am a bewitched woman, indeed, as I am enthralled, entranced and fascinated by everything frivolous. Should I have more restraint and censor myself?

While I am awakening in this world, I curiously explore every nook and cranny. I break through boundaries of intellection. I smash detailed, solid and concrete thoughts by how far I attempt to dream. This is how I stay flexible and my reality expands without cessation. Call it creativity, if you will, or mania, or plasticity of the human mind, energies and forces surge through me and I invent. I have seen glimpses of enlightenment in the mundane and the fantastic. Both are equally inspiring.

I ache to communicate. I yearn to listen and to also be heard. I read as well as write. It all takes vast amounts of time. On one hand, reading is an act of submission. On the other, writing is an act of domination. I need the symbiotic relationship of both giving and receiving, and this makes me versatile poet. I prefer reciprocation to isolation. Therefore, I do well on teams as long as the rules are understood.

The first rule I propose is to never give up on a clever idea. Simply said.

The second is to allow miracles to happen. Many writers have experienced 'pilot mode' where they sense the pen is actually moving by itself. Mother Teresa experienced this mystery many days and nights of her life as she documented her daily, personal journey on this planet. Inspiration is essential in the writing process. Is it divine? And how often does that divinity transfer from the text to the reader?

The third is to maintain sacred space. This does not only apply to the physical environment in which one is reading and writing, it is also relevant to the internal needs of the human spirit. Through meditation, which comes in many forms, spaces may appear in minds that are full. The clutter can be cleared and emptied as if mud were sinking to the bottom of a river and the water begins to naturally filter.

Every moment, there is an opportunity to seize the power hidden within and without. It drives us forward to fulfill our desires and reveal to us our hidden, secret nature. Mindfulness, whatever one is doing, works like magic. Whether ordinary or extraordinary, mindfulness is a tool that can be used to purify the mind and allow more sacred spaces to develop and emerge. Thus, with the proper intentions, anything is possible in realms of knowledge!

Does it make a difference to a writer if a reader receives his or her work? If so,
how much emphasis should be placed on criticism? The evolution of a writer's piece travels through many stages before it is placed into the hands of a caring reader. The work may require editing, fine-tuning and a keen eye for details. There are so many layers for both to process simultaneously.

I'd love to start a thread and hear some thoughts from you now. Please comment, if you feel inclined, and thank you for being my reader.

P.D. Gourlais

The Rain by P.D. Gourlais

2011-10-05T23:35:00.001-07:00

Your voice is clear
as you leave no room
for doubt.
Pattering on my window seal,
I welcome you, openly.
I watch you slide
down panes of glass.
I catch you tickling my skin
and you calm my longing mind.
You have traveled far.
You sound tired
and ready to rest.
Stay with me.
Without words, you agree.
My sheets are damp
because you are
my faithful lover.
Tonight, it is the two of us,
one becoming the other
and the other becoming one.
You sing a quiet rhapsody
against the tin roof of the garage.
The song in my heart blends
note by note into your echo.
In time, I have forgotten
the blissfulness of your kiss.
O! How I desired you night and day
but it wasn't your journey
to take until now.
I am cleansed
and impressed
with your timeliness.
You quench my thirst.
We are ripe
and filled with passion.
The winds lift the heads
of the clouds
into the giant, gray sky.
Like whimsical ideas and thoughts,
they sail by swift and capriciously.
I am here in bed with you,
curled up in spoons
beneath the heavy blankets.
I'm bathing in your gentle touch
which brushes my hair and cheeks.
The silver moon is shrouded
by a luminous, white veil.
We have a sliver of natural light.
O how soft it is to sink
into peace and to love once more,
as if it was our first encounter!

P.D. Gourlais

A Perfect Birthday Weekend

2011-09-26T17:30:00.000-07:00

34 years ago, I was almost my grandmother's birthday present. This year, she turned 86 the day before I turned 34. In the morning, I kicked off my birthday weekend at Starbucks with Lyle the Magician. He's my neighbor. Every Saturday, we like to go to the coffee shop, sit on the patio and talk. In the evening, my mother brought my grandmother to celebrate my birthday with us. We went to a very good restaurant called Thai Siam. We ordered spring rolls, tempura vegetables, pineapple shrimp curry and druken noodles with tofu. This was my grandmother's first time trying Thai food and she loved it! The meal was delicious. By the time we left, the three of us nearly cleaned off every plate.

I've been so busy with changing jobs and getting acquainted with my new life at the senior center that I hadn't made time to go out for a while. Since the day it came out, I've wanted to go see Harry Potter: the Deathly Hallows Part 2. My mother took me to go see it. We had Coca-Cola and popcorn. I really liked the show and I was sad to see the series come to an end. I love Emma Watson. I think she's so adorable.

The Yankees also beat the Red Sox on my birthday, which made me even happier! I think we have a chance of winning the World Series this year! I'm looking forward to the playoffs. Meanwhile, of course, I'm thinking of Grandpa G. and how we used to always watch the series together.

Sunday morning, my stepdad Ray returned from L.A. He took my mother and I out for breakfast to a Greek restaurant called the Other Place. We spent some time discussing the situation between Israel and Palestine. Personally, I would like to see the UN accept the Palestinian bid for membership, and hopefully, to see Zionists and Palestinians live in peace, once and for all. Unfortunately, I think the Palestinians are doomed to fail at the UN because the U.S. is threatening to veto any efforts that Palestine makes to become a member state. Furthermore, there are not enough non-Arab countries who are willing to back their bid. Also, Barack Obama is probably hoping to be re-elected, which means he will need the Jewish vote in 2012 and he will need to stay strategically positioned to back Israel, no matter the right or wrong of this moral issue. Already, he has increased the military power in Israel by approving more arms-- something we haven't seen so strongly since Ronald Reagan. My family firmly supports Benjamin Netanyahu. It's as if gold pours forth from his mouth and he can say nothing wrong. I think that's because the American media glorifies him, and my family listens to the radio programs in which he is idolized. Still, I can't sleep well at night with thoughts of Palestinians being bulldozed in their houses. How can this be fair? Sure there are many militants and terrorist factions in Arab states but I believe the best way to fight terrorism is to change people's minds and hearts. It is the only way.
This is how Israel will stop missle attacks and finally live in peace. Intentional acts of violence are horrendous no matter where they come from. No country in this world is without blood on its hands.
I'd like to see Palestine recognized as a possible step in the peace making process. We'll see!

So, Sunday morning, our discussion got me thinking. I came home and enjoyed a three hour nap. My friend Anj, who lives next door, invited all of the neighbors to a dinner party that she threw. She asked me what I'd like for my birthday dinner and I said, lasagna. She made a veggie lasagna and one with Italian Sausage. We had all kinds of hors d'oeuvres, plenty of cold beer and lots of laughter. I'm very grateful to her for making my birthday such a special one. I left the party at 10:30 but could hear them outside of my window until midnight. I'm very glad I could give them an excuse to party! :)

Today at the Senior Center, everyone sang me Happy Birthday at lunch and they gave me a chocolate cake to take home. I found it kind of amusing because none of them were very animated. They are in their seventies and eighties though and I'm sure that someone's birthday is nothing too extraordinary. :) Ha ha...

What a trip. It's been a nice weekend. My friends and family made it one of the best ever!

Love,
Peedee

My dream came true...

2011-08-25T22:54:00.000-07:00

My dream came true! So, I turned to one of my favorite books- "Dream Big starring Olivia". I created the previous post Dream Big! to share the details with you. The illustrations are so adorable they make me laugh out loud! I often go to this book for inspiration.

This week, I was offered a position at a Senior Citizens Center, which is near my house. Throughout graduate school, as I was learning to become a Gerontologist, my ideal job in my mind was to work in a senior center. This is because I enjoyed part of my practicum so much.

Now that my dream has become a reality, I can hardly believe it. The application process took two months. I am now working for the government at Aging Services. Not to mention, my education took six years from beginning to end. By the time I left the Gerontology department at the University, I had taken most of the classes available to future aging specialists. It's been a long road but one I look back on with a feeling of victory. The news this week sealed the deal!

I am starting soon (within the next two weeks). I feel anxious. I feel excited. I feel hopeful that this will lead to more opportunities in my field in the future. I can't wait to get to know all the wonderful people who will walk through the door to my desk. This is my chance to jump start my career in Aging and to let my spirit shine as one thing I do best is loving people!

I am thrilled to be on the crest of the wave of the aging spike as I begin my future, brilliant career. I have a vision. I have DREAMS. Big ones. I feel more stable and secure than ever. I believe in impermenence, however. Everything is constantly changing. I think by now, as a survivor of some very difficult struggles, I can say that I adapt well to changes both unforseen and expected.

I wouldn't be here in this position today without the love, attention and care of my family, friends and co-workers. They have all supported me through the most tumultuous times many of which surfaced in the past four years.

If you have read this far, I would like to thank you for stopping by my blog. I am grateful that you have an interest in my life and I appreciate my readers very much! Remember if you'd like to keep in touch, comment here, send me an email, tweet me, Facebook me or text/Skype/call me. My number is listed on Facebook on my P.D. Gourlais account as well, you only need to Friend me to get it. I would love to hear from you.

Love to all,
Peedee

Dream Big!

2011-08-25T22:33:00.000-07:00

Quotes from: "Dream Big- Starring Olivia" (ISBN-13: 978-0-7407-5818-8)

Everything starts as somebody's daydream. - Larry Niven

Logic will get you from A to B. Imagination will take you anywhere. - Albert Einstein

Sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast. - Lewis Carroll

It ain't braggin' if you can back it up. - Dizzy Dean

Anything's possible if you've got enough nerve. - J.K. Rowling

You can have whatever you want if you dress for it. - Edith Head

Style is knowing who you are... - Gore Vidal

Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind. - Dr. Seuss

Nobody can be exactly like me. Even I have trouble doing it. - Tallulah Bankhead

Great spirits have always encountered opposition from mediocre minds. - Albert Einstein

I love acting. It is so much more real than life. - Oscar Wilde

It's kind of fun to do the impossible. - Walt Disney

The people who never tumble are those who never mount the high wire. - Oprah Winfrey

A woman is like a tea bag- you never know how strong she is until she gets in hot water. - Eleanor Roosevelt

I don't say we all ought to misbehave, but we ought to look as if we could. - Orson Welles

If you obey all the rules, you miss all the fun. Katharine Hepburn

Always behave as if nothing had happened, no matter what has happened. - Arnold Bennett

What should I be but just what I am? - Edna St. Vincent Millay

Life is short; live it up! - Nikita Khrushchev

Life is a ticket to the greatest show on Earth. - Martin H. Fischer

If you can't convince them, confuse them. - Harry S. Truman

Reality leaves a lot to the imagination. - John Lennon

Dreams say what they mean, but they don't say it in daytime language. - Gail Godwin

If you don't know where you are going, you can never get lost. - Herb Cohen

Life is something that happens when you can't get to sleep. - Fran Lebowitz

Look for the ridiculous in everything and you will find it. - Jules Renard

You don't get harmony when everybody sings the same note. - Doug Floyd

I'm afraid of nothing except being bored. - Greta Garbo

When in doubt wear red! - Bill Blass

I am just too much. - Bette Davis

Today is your day! Your mountain is waiting. So... get on your way! - Dr. Seuss

Mind Rap Lyrics by P.D. Gourlais

2011-08-20T22:10:00.000-07:00

Mind Rap by P.D. Gourlais

If the link above doesn't work for you, you can hear audio by copying and pasting this link into your web browser:

Free Download link or streaming link- http://dl.dropbox.com/u/3587062/MindRap2.mp3

Break it down....

uh.... uh huh

what's up
feel this vibe

let this poet put
words into your brain
let it rain
meanin' in chains

let this beat reverberate
while I create

somethin' that cannot
be undone
my thoughts outrun

my motor mouth
is headin' south

the mind travels out of limits
endless, on a course toward
a place with no beginnin'
expandin' out of creative forces

this isn't an illness

space goes on forever
whatever,
it never ends

like rhymes I've penned
the ink blends
on the page
l'll break out of this cage
engage
tired of minimum wage

what can I say
to portray
another gray day
givin' up I'd be dismayed

but I go on...

I go on....

the mind travels out of limits
endless, on a course toward
a place with no beginnin'
expandin' out of creative forces

in search of the source
reinforce infinity
the Holy trinity
a story of divinity

Reach for the stars
they reach back
they are far
yet illuminatin' the black

what more can I ask?
to write is to unmask

in the ancient past
there was a big blast
light began to move
to prove
we are able
to exist in Time
which is stable

out of chaos came order
in a place of no borders
thoughts are sketched
out of the skies
improvised
in an element
of surprise

out of a seed
new life will arise
it is wise
to wait for it
to grow

this is how we know
we are not alone
as we are shown
marvelous things

Like magic,
they appear
and it is very clear
we are here
on this sphere
to live as One
and to become
somethin' greater
than we were before

there is more beyond
the spirit soars
through numberless doors
we are travelin'
to distant shores
half asleep and half awake

the mind travels out of limits
endless, on a course toward
a place with no beginnin'
expandin' out of creative forces

Hear the hook
take another look
like a leaf
from a good book

Eternity is out there
where galaxies flare
Forever we climb
a great staircase

as we chase comets
grace redeems
the effort we expend

we ascend
no need to pretend
this journey is a snap
take it back
we have no map
left in the dark
we were given
a spark
in our hearts

bein' smart
we can chart
our own destinies

we are free
to thrive

we are free
to thrive

we are alive

we are alive

P.D. Gourlais

ON THE FOREHEAD OF TIME by Kalpna Singh-Chitnis

2011-08-11T16:51:00.000-07:00

Buried in dust and time

my eternal bliss,
you quivered on my lips once again,
and rolled into my eyes like a storm
never occurred before...

In a long time,
I felt you blossoming into my pores,
all over again...

over again, at your door I await,
for it to open...
and breathe me once,
like a spring in the air,

In a long time,
silences have found some meanings,
not spoken in words,

only to be written with our hands,
on the forehead of time.

Copyright - Kalpna Singh-Chitnis 2011.

The Way Things Are

2011-08-09T23:58:00.000-07:00

Maddening memories
slip through the cracks
in the blinds.
The darkness of night
has pushed
the population indoors.
Street lamps are buzzing.
A mysterious tune is humming.
The old paint on the walls
could be peeling
from the heat.
Crickets liven up
this metropolis
with click songs
and cheep dances.
The dry air sticks
to the bed sheets.
A person was lying here.
Two cats take their
nap inside a warm imprint.
They flick their whiskers
and yawn.

What is tomorrow
to become
except another mad memory?

After midnight, these frenetic
thoughts threaten
to die like house flies
trapped inside a window pane.

P.D. Gourlais

Evolving

2011-08-04T20:05:00.001-07:00

Sitting down to write,
my thoughts
travel to the past.
These are our stories there.
We wait
to articulate them
until they force us
to bring them back,
once again,
into reality.
We remember
the details.
They are different
every time
and the meaning
is perpetual.
As we change,
history does too.
Like this,
many perspectives
skew the Ultimate Truth.

I've tried to see
you without
blinders
on my eyes
but my pupils
were burned
by the Sun.

Who are we really?
Is this some sick joke?
I take off my mask.
Do you see me?
A perfect Fool,
naive & filled with longing.

P.D. Gourlais

Disintegration

2011-08-04T20:04:00.002-07:00

Memories of us
in the beginning.
The excitement
of meeting someone new.
You could have
been anyone-

nobody special-

yet quickly
our feeilngs grew.

I didn't make plans
to lose touch
with reality.

My heart urged me
to speak
but all that came out
was nonsense.

I give less power
to my fantasies now.
They can be dangerous
and lead us over the edge.

Staying sane is a matter
of discernment.
Without a filter,
all clarity disintegrates.

I've picked the pieces
up of me now.

I don't know
what to say about you

except you were extraordinary
in so many ways

and I really miss you.

P.D. Gourlais

Just Another Summer Night

2011-08-04T20:04:00.000-07:00

There's nothing unordinary.
The stray cat begs
or food & water.
As the sun is going down
dragonflies ride
the cool breeze.
The neighbors drink
white wine & chain smoke
on the front porch
while they gossip.
The conversation
goes off on a tangent.
Only they follow
the humor.
They smoke another bowl.
The neighborhood is
peaceful as if
everyone is high.
The clouds surf
across the darkening sky.
I go inside.
Do the dishes.
Take out the trash.
This is a ritualistic
summer night.

P.D. Gourlais

Make Something Out of Nothing

2011-07-29T00:07:00.000-07:00

Living is making something out of "seemingly" NOTHING!- P.D. Gourlais Diary, July 28th, 2011

Today I was spending a few moments of contemplation on the pavement outside of my apartment windows.
As I looked around me, I noticed it was hot, first. Then, I noticed there's an awful lot of asphalt everywhere. I do live, after all, right next to a parking garage. I could have let this dishearten me but for some reason, my mind opened and I started to see green everywhere. Suddenly, I noticed by two parking garages that there were two tall weeds that had grown. I also remarked that there wasn't any soil. My imagination traveled back to the sun. How did the sun fertilize a seed beneath the asphalt and the weeds managed to LIVE? Then, I looked closer around me and noticed a small weed growing through a crack right below my window. How hearty and powerful they must be to be nourished by the sunlight and to grow? I was amazed. All day I sat thinking about this-- "Living is making something out of seemingly NOTHING." We could say the same thing about ourselves. A sperm and an egg come together, fertilize and next thing you know another human being develops. Nine months later, a beautiful, innocent newborn is brought into this world. There are so many species of plants and animals which cause me to marvel in the same way. I am fascinated that life is a possibility at all! Doesn't it feel magical to any of you? I love exploring. I also adore rocks and minerals. I like to collect evidence of the earth's treasures. I enjoy watching ants as they work. Their daily routine seems as important as ours. I have a habit of walking with my chin down because I watch for them and I don't like to step on them but once in a while, in mid stride, I am too late to stop and I acknowledge, thankfully, the work the ant has done and I'm sorry to have ended his/her life today.

A new poem is making something out of nothing. A fresh piece of paper thrills me. When my mind is open, and I am free of psychological obstacles, I can write about topics I didn't even acknowledge I was thinking, consciously. I sense a new poetry project about to be born. I need another breakthrough. I need to fertilize my seeds and watch them grow beautifully out of the asphalt. Yeah man, I don't need to be obscure. I'm a poet with a will to write from living in harsh conditions. I don't see myself any more special than a homeless bum on a bus who hasn't showered for days. That could be me sitting there. I don't know his story, so I cannot compare my own but I feel we are all brothers and sisters on this super, giant rock called Earth which is flying at a frightening velocity around the sun. Somehow, the forces of nature keep us put together and the conditions on earth are so favorable to us. There are extremities, yes, but through exploring, we have learned where those challenges might be. If God created the skies, the rivers, the oceans, the forests, the deserts, well maybe he wants us to start worshipping nature again and if we can't do that to at least RESPECT IT. I think we should do so before more species go extinct. Once they are gone, they are gone forever. The same could also be said about ourselves. We live in an interdependent world where nothing is separate from the greater whole. Sure, we have so many illusions of this but in the human psyche, these are classified as delusions because they are false truths or LIES. I think we should focus on our connectedness to everyone and everything. to all plants and animals. to all rocks and minerals. to all oceans, lakes and rivers. This is why I became a Buddhist. The teachings and reasonings about sentient life, the cosmic universe and inquiries into the Mind astound me. There are many giants whose shoulders we may walk upon. I'm very careful to assign myself a guru. It hasn't happened yet but I feel honored to have a Zen teacher or two. I don't feel there is a "guru" expectation in those relationships. They feel more real. More stable. More sane. More purified. I know the 3 treasures work because I've tested them with my own experience- take refuge in the Buddha, take refuge in the dharma, take refuge in the sangha. And at the end of the night, all I'm thinking is--- they are such WONDERFUL people. These are people you enjoy sitting down at dinner with. People who will sit next to you on a zen cushion and let you cry and even though they are not hugging you until after the sitting session, you know they support your meditation practice while you sit side by side. I feel very lucky to be surrounded by many people making so many things about of nothing. After all, life is the stuff dreams are made of. :)
Love,
Peedee

Say Something

2011-07-14T21:28:00.001-07:00

We are so far apart
yet I feel you so near.
From where do you watch & wait?
In my dreams, you
always appear.
I wake to find
you're still not speaking.
Silently, you spend
everyday by my side.
I know you're there
in your own way.
Whatever you wish, it
is worth trying.
I tell you I still love you.
I tell you that I care.
But at night,
I hear you crying.

P.D. Gourlais

A History of Love- July 14, 2011

2011-07-14T16:22:00.000-07:00

Instantly,

a dizzy reverie.
Earth beneath our feet.
Walls closing in.
Our two
bodies in motion.
Victims
to an invisible force.
The gravitational pull.
Frozen in step.
Petrified in time.
Intimate with attraction.
No stop signs.
Hot in the hallway.
Our cheeks burned red.
Our magnetized eyes.
A transformation ever after.
Life as we knew it
came to an end.
No need for despair.
Plunged off the rocky cliff.
Dove into black waters.
Let go to ocean tides.
The moon looms
over intensified grief.
By my side,
you silently watch & wait.
Wanting you now
but not then.
Bleeding hearts
must do their healing.
Seeing you-
a part of me.
We will never lose
each other.
Hold on,
until we meet again.
Believe in possibilities
like chance
in the beginning.

P.D. Gourlais

.

Feeling So Tiny

2011-07-11T22:07:00.001-07:00

Feeling so tiny,
I look up
to the stars and the moon.

What is my purpose here?

Were we not all born
to overcome obstacles
and circumstances?

Feeling so tiny,
I whisper "Thank you"
to the summer, night air.

Are the Gods
listening in?

What do they see
from way up there?

We are specks of dust
flying through outer space
on a giant rock.

Feeling so tiny,
I marvel
at everything
I think I'm not,

because
I am.

P.D. Gourlais

Guilt

2011-07-09T20:12:00.001-07:00

(I don't know where this came from and I don't care if it's less than perfect and doesn't completely rhyme. It's just what's in my heart at the moment)

We have done each other wrong.
You went against your truth.
I went against mine.
We forced each other
to compromise.

How do we rid
of these nagging clouds
in the mind?

Somehow, we must purify
our own thoughts.

Maybe there is a power
within us to forgive.

How can we continue
to live under this guilt?

Mistakes are made.
From them, we learn and grow

though self-doubt conceals
the true wishes of our hearts.

Feelings of worthlessness
set in.

Forget about your sins.
I'll forget about mine.

Baby, we are dead,
way before our time.

We need to step out
of this cycle of despair.

We need to be more loving
and more aware.

I care about your hopelessness.
I want to make things right.

I have been there too-

the darkest of dark nights.

It is clear to me,
we're okay as we are.

It's natural to go astray.

Dust yourself off.
I will do the same.

Don't dwell on failure.
Don't dwell on shame.

We punish ourselves
too much everyday.

There's not much
more about this that I can say.

I wish we didn't end up
this way.

I'm very sorry.

May beauty saturate your life.
May ultimate happiness be yours.
May joy catch you in the pleasure of the moment.
May you have clarity when you look in the mirror.
May you have courage and never fear.

Be brave little soldier!
Life is for living large!

When you're feeling hesitant,
remember to charge!

P.D. Gourlais

Dissolve

2011-07-01T01:38:00.000-07:00

I am melting.
Liquified, I mix in
with particles of light.
This could be a certain
kind of death
as I am softened
into ashen atoms
of balmy, bendable,
fluid, flucuations
of form.

I am crystal-clear.
A cellphone frame
of crystalline reality.

Translucent, I pass through
thin walls of transpicuous density.

The map of my face is a mask.
I wear makeup to conceal
the veil of my confident cover.

I am all character.
I am all personality.

I may show a silhouette
of my true nature
but do not be deceived,
I am an angel in disguise.

My wings are spread
yet I fly
stealthily
among a generation
of hungry rebels.

I decompose
only when authentic belief
in me fails to dissipate
the myths about my body.

I shall vanish
and perish.
This is a fact.

I squelch other rumors
and stamp out
hatred.

I nullify
the Narcissist.

Decimating
the garbage of previous
peoples, I suspend
the suspecting.

Erase me.
Extinguish authenticity.

Abolish yourselves,
and you annihilate me.

I am melting.
Liquified, I mix in
with particles of light.
This could be a certain
kind of death
yet I hang on to
terminate the void.

I am emptiness.
I am fullness.
One in the same,

I reach
toward the evolving
Universe
filled with order, laws,
and light.

P.D. Gourlais

Don't Ever Let Me Go Again

2011-06-17T22:18:00.001-07:00

If I held you in my arms,
to hug you tight today,
there is only one thing
I would need to say-

Don't ever let me go again.
How do I begin?
To tell you how much
you mean to me.
Is it such a sin?

Would it seem very odd
for me to think you are the one?
I became unraveled
when you said that you are done.

Don't ever let me go again.
I can't fall one more time.
I can't write you poetry
with less than perfect rhyme.

I can't imagine life without you.
How can I be so sure?
I thought I used to know it all
but now I am mature.

Love, you have gone away
to marry someone else.
Did my feelings matter?
What was it you felt?

So many unanswered questions
weigh upon my mind.
I regret harsh words I said
which were so unkind.

I see myself so clearly
I'm not sure I can forgive
myself and allow myself to live.

Don't ever let me go again
if just within your thoughts.
Just know that I am sorry
for every day we fought.

If I held you in my arms,
to hug you tight today,
I can't think of anything
that I would need to say
except:

I love you.

P.D. Gourlais

Rambling Thoughts of the Day and Night

2011-06-15T23:19:00.000-07:00

I need to stay up tonight and write this out:

Have I taken two steps forward lately or two steps back? Isn't it impossible to go backwards? Everything feels like it's in perpetual motion. I'd like to believe I'm progressing but my life lately feels so slow, dull and monotonous. I am uncertain where I stand on many levels at this moment.

I am sure that I've been living in a state of protection to shield myself from potential harm. One sign of this is how much sleep I now require. After taking my meds at night, I sometimes sleep 12 hours. I know a lot of people would consider this to be ridiculous but my mother says, "my brain is healing" and I must believe that if it wasn't essential, I'd hop out of bed and go about my early mornings. I am also only working part-time because of the need to take care of myself. I no longer experience nights of inspiration where I stay up late and write. My poetry and writing has been a sacrifice as well to taking care of my physical needs first. Somehow, I made it through graduate school without too many speed bumps along my path. I did have a few serious set-backs even then but managed to work through them with proper time.

I read an article today that came four years too late. I highly recommend this for spiritual individuals who find themselves in a student-teacher relationship. It might even be beneficial to read this article before entering into such a relationship. I know now that we have the power to choose our relationships. No relationship is ever obligatory. In fact, I feel 100% responsible for the relationships in which I'm involved. I would hope from the other side that the people I trust also feel 100% responsible. Coming from that place, a healthy adult relationship may thrive. Here is the link for any of my readers who are interested in this article. It is a Zen Buddhist article but I find it could apply to a general audience as well:

http://www.whiteplum.org/Student_Teacher.pdf

I started thinking today of everything that's transpired in the past four years of my life. In a certain sense, my "fall" was unavoidable. The greatest struggle of my life has been dealing with the aftermath of crashing and burning. On many levels, several people were involved. I lost complete control. I lost my vision. I lost my path. I lost a few people (which I hate because I have a really hard time letting go of people to whom I feel loyal). I had to go through a system that was insufficient in caring for me. At the end, when it came right down to it, my biggest realization was that nobody is going to watch out for me. I have to do it myself. Oddly, this didn't give me a sense of isolation or loneliness. In fact, it did the opposite. It empowered me and helped me get through the most difficult days and nights. I could see clearly from then until now that everybody I've met, and those who have been intimate with my situation, were doing their best to help in the way they knew how. From this, I gather that they (care)d about me.

People have different boundaries and limits. Luckily, most of the time, I've learned that we are capable of recognizing these in each other without having to articulate them. Then, once in a while, boundaries are broken and limits are stretched. It's in these times of challenges where I think we have the opportunity to work the most on ourselves and our personal relationships with others.

So, without trying to intellectualize this any further, I will say it hurts a lot when you love somebody and they go and marry someone else. It's happened to me more than once. It's happened to me more than twice. In fact, depending on how I count the ways, it may have happened more than three or four times to me already. I caught myself thinking about this today and then I realized, "Peedee. It happened three or four times. Who's to say you won't find love again? And who's to say the next time you won't find a love of your own to have and to hold and to keep and cherish?".

I may be labeled as crazy by some but when it comes right down to it, I'm just a normal woman with some eccentricities. For the most part, I get along very well with others. I have immense love for my family and fierce loyalty for my friends. I'm not about to give up on myself or anyone because I know how it felt when someone gave up on me. I prefer to ease people's fear of abandonment and to do that it requires actions not words. Time is a huge factor in determining who one should trust.

I acted too quickly. I gave my trust away too soon. I will never do that again. I write this now, still partly broken hearted but also eased by the article I read today. I shouldn't have to carry the burden of blaming myself any more. For this, I will pray, and hand my heavy load over to God and ask first that I may forgive and when I am able, that I may be forgiven as well. I am not perfect and all my life, I've wanted to be.

These are my thoughts of the night but here is my last thought of the night, which I shared on Facebook as well:

How do I articulate this last thought of the night? Aside from love, I think the greatest thing we can give another is our time. And by time, I mean our presence and awareness. This is a gift that no amount of money could ever buy. I started thinking this by wondering if my situation would be different if I were wealthy, then I realized, I would be spending all of my time chasing money.

Goodnight!

P.D. Gourlais

Leaves from a poet's notebook: Some Good Thoughts About Sex

2011-05-08T21:40:00.000-07:00

(prose 30/30 from my manuscript in progress)

I confess.
I believe everything in the world
depends on sex.
Our very existence is born from copulation.
All lifeforms rely on reproduction
for all speices to thrive.
Thus, without sex, we have nothing.
Hard-wired into our bodies,
we have urges and instincts
that create sexual behaviors.
Often times, these lead to intercourse.
Where do sex and love
come together?
Eros, the God of Love, is one example.
As the son of Aphrodite, his myths
remind us of the importance
of sexual drive and libido.
There must be chemistry.
Pure ecstacy itself
is loss of self control,
which is coupled with
irrational thinking
and last but not least
abandonment (usually of the self).
When struck by Cupid's arrow,
some go into a trance
or they become frenzied.
Others claim to go into a complete rapture.
Many poets illustrate that sex is mystical and prophetic
as ultimately, it leads them to exhaltation
on a higher, spiritual plane.
When acting out responsibly,
two consenting adults
might find that sex promises
to bring great happiness,
well-being and bliss
into a divine or holy union.
The devil, of course, is the fact
that there is such widespread
sexual misconduct.
We're talking in terms of loyalty,
responsibility (contraception and HIV/AIDS education)
and more.
And I will confess at the end-
It's been a new experience
to be celibate for 4 1/2 years.
I follow the Zen Buddhist precept
that sexual relationships
should only occur in committed,
devoted relationships.
Through celibacy,
I'm learning about the rewards
of this kind of discipline.
Though I take my scriptural studies
seriously, I do not discount the fact
that one day I'll either become a Buddhist nun
or I'll find a divine relationship where
healthy intimacy can thrive and grow.
These are my thoughts on sex at the moment.
It's not necessarily a poem, more prose-like,
but I'm going to count it in the manuscript anyway!
Cheers,
Peedee

Message of Love

2011-05-06T22:36:00.000-07:00

(poem 29/30 from my manuscript in progress)

Dear Beloved,
my affection for you
is intense.
For you,
I abandon sexual desire.
You caress my cheek
with a breeze.
You whisper my name
through the trees.
I fall to my knees
to speak with you.
You cure my heart
of loneliness.
I am forever devoted
to you for you have shown
me benevolence and mercy.
Everywhere I go,
there is evidence
of your kindness.
You are Great
beyond measure.
You bond to the music
of my soul
as we are mutually
attracted.
I need no one else
but you to elevate me.
I seek your approval
and yours alone
for it is my hope
that when I return home
you will welcome me.

Taking a timeout
on the steps
of a secret staircase
to get this message to you.

Eternally Yours,

P.D. Gourlais

My Hot Shot

2011-05-05T19:54:00.001-07:00

(poem 28/30 from my manuscript in progress)

I love the way you shine
even though you aren't mine.
It was love at first sight.
Baby, you hit like dynamite!
I swim in your soft gaze.
Your eyes are like a maze.
Whenever I am there,
I am completely unaware
that I'm not in your arms.
I've fallen for your charms.
You've cast a spell on me.
I no longer see reality.
This is a fantasy.
I don't know how else to be.
You make me smile with one word.
Loving you is so absurd!

P.D. Gourlais

Awake

2011-05-04T17:52:00.000-07:00

(poem 27/30 from my manuscript in progress)

Born into a world
resembling Hell,
I arrived
with my eyes
open in darkness.

Like a tulip
in the spring,
I bow my head
toward the sunlight
to receive warmth.

How is it, in the birth order of life,
we plant seeds
and watch them grow
like magic?

I trace my origins
to the Earth,
my most distant relative.
I am made of clay.
My spirit goes back
to the sky
as I feel the direction
of my home
on the wind.

I can truly fly.

I am awake
in a world of suffering.
Because weeds have grown,
I need to tend to my karma.
I eliminate roots and causes
of afflictive emotions.
There is no going back to sleep.
It will take me eons
to travel the steps to Enlightenment.
Like a memory,
my first attempt
is an imprint
that will never dissolve.

Born into a world
resembling Hell,
moment by moment,
I have glimpses of Nirvana.
My little piece of heaven
is hidden
in the click
of an instant.
Awake!
Awake!
Awake!

P.D. Gourlais

The Fantastic

2011-05-03T21:26:00.001-07:00

(poem 26/30 from my manuscript in progress)

O! How life can be comical and crazy
with its eccentricities and erratic moods!

Anything fanciful or foolish
is on my to-do list.

I gravitate toward the far-fetched
and freakish.

Foreign everything excites me--
all that is exotic and extravagant.

I imagine the implausible.
Yes, I'm incredibly insane.

Some may say I'm a mad poet
driven by the nonsensical.

My pen is phantasmagorical.
It writes whimsical words, indeed.

If something seems odd or queer,
this is ordinary news to me.

I trifle with this word and that.
I fidget and fool around.

I flirt with the unreal and unbelievable.
Writing is a frivolous, inconsequential game.

Silly at times.
Maybe even shallow
and a tiny bit vain.

P.D. Gourlais

If You Go Away

2011-05-02T21:30:00.001-07:00

(poem 25/30 from my manuscript in progress)

Sometimes, I wonder if all would be well
if you go away. You see, as long as
you're around, I think about you
and I want to see you. I imagine
a day seeing you might be possible
then quickly realize
I'm living a fantasy
because you're already gone.

Sometimes, I wonder if lovers do
come back but then I hope not
because I never intended to share you
with anyone

and that's just gross. THE END.

A Lover In Disguise

2011-05-02T20:32:00.000-07:00

(poem 24/30 from my manuscript in progress)

Baby,
I see all of you
in your eyes.
You cannot hide.

Though you are cloaked
and camouflaged,
and you front
with a facade,

I found you
at a parade
where you love
to masquerade.

Common.
Strike a pose.
Show me
what you've got!

Your posture
is a veil
for all that you
conceal.

Like a shy doe,
you plot
your great escape

But I am the hunter
hot on your tracks,

and once the chase
begins,
there's no going back.

I found you
in your eyes.
There is no disguise
for two lovers
to be.

Baby,
you cannot hide.

This is destiny.

P.D. Gourlais

Schism

2011-04-28T20:53:00.001-07:00

(Poem 23/30 from my manuscript in progress)

No.
Maybe.
I don't know.
This is too hard.
I hate decisions.
Why isn't this easy?
I am so lost in the Bronx.
I'm scared and clinging to the past.
Don't I know the answers to it all?

My intuition is always right.
It's time to move forward and on.
My life is too short to waste.
Where's the difficulty?
I love weaving dreams.
This is a snap.
I'm quite sure.
Perhaps.
Yes.

P.D. Gourlais

Years Gone

2011-04-27T17:15:00.000-07:00

(poem 22/30 from my manuscript in progress)

My grief.
Unable to eat or sleep.
A tormented love
gone wrong.
How could the end
be so different
from the beginning?
Desires change.
Lovers come and go.
Fickle like the weather,
people try each other
on like clothes.
Loss is a shipwreck.
Debris tossed out to sea.
I never asked you
to love me forever
since life has no predictability.
Leave me crazed
with grief.
I will reclaim my strength.
I walked the plank
of love too many times
and I know what awaits.
A bitter cold ocean
to which the Banshee sings.
I am only an Echo now.
Half of a spirit dwelling
in a hallowed body.
My face is gaunt
and I cannot stop
the tears I weep.
I shall miss you
but I will not miss my grief.

P.D. Gourlais

The Fringe

2011-04-26T21:29:00.001-07:00

(Poem 21/30 from my manuscript in progress)

If I were walking
on a tea cup,
I'd be tiptoeing
the brim.

If I were a skirt,
I'd be the hem.

I march
on the margin-
not inbounds
and not outside.

I prefer the brink.
The perimeter is snug.

I know the contours
and how
to circumscribe.

I define the edge.

I bounce
among boundaries.

When I let go
of these limits
and the line

I nose-dive
off the fringe.

Is there any other way to live?

P.D. Gourlais

Crepescule

2011-04-25T20:50:00.001-07:00

(Poem 20/30 from my manuscript in progress)

Flying fire bursting
through scattered skies.
Orange traces of fragmented
light holds rainsoaked
clouds hostage.
Ready to let go,
thunder drums beyond.

The air is energized.

The earth spins
into darkness.

Night arrives covertly
with melancholy splendor.

Sleep awaits.
Dreams grip the horizon.

The Sun still shines
though eyes
do not behold it.

Such is this world
our ours-
a paradox of dark and light-
a symphony of Great Illusions.

P.D. Gourlais

Marbles On My Mind

2011-04-24T19:52:00.001-07:00

(Poem 19/30 from my manuscript in progress)

I keep my marbles

in a jar.

They are sealed

in tight

so I won't lose one.

All colors of the rainbow,

the stare at me

like eyeballs

through warped glass.

Compressed and compact,

stony and firm,

they are shatterproof.

These little spheres

do not sob

and that is why

I love them.

They are indestructible.

Tough.

Rock-hard and resistant.

I keep my marbles

in a jar

so if I lose one,

I can count them,

and know

something is missing.

P.D. Gourlais

Cornered

2011-04-23T19:39:00.001-07:00

(Poem 18/30 from my manuscript in progress. A rant about writer's block. LOL.)

Epigram: "As the Poems Go"

"as the poems go into the thousands you
realize that you've created very
little." - by Charles Bukowski

My pen is sitting
there like a statue,
silent,
and unable to move.

No outside force
can convince it
to release ink-
not even me.

In frustration,
I lash out
to the room.
The walls are deaf
and I feel crazy.

My only therapy
is to create.

The ceiling feels lowered.
Space is closing in.
The room spins
like a wobbly top.

Ensnared,
I feel bitter
about hours wasted
as I recline
on the couch
with a notepad and wait.

Words cannot seduce
me out of my cold,
frozen world.

I run out the backdoor
to catch a fresh breath
of night air.

I kick a few stones
into a garden of weeds.

The birds are singing
but I'm angry.

I cannot join
their song and dance
tonight

as I peer beyond
my corral
and hope for freedom.

P.D. Gourlais

Last Teaching

2011-04-22T20:03:00.001-07:00

(Poem 17/30 from my manuscript in progress- just a quick comment on this- tomorrow is my last day teaching French to my visually impaired student. I tried to convey my feelings that have culminated during this experience for the past two years. I hope it doesn't sound cheesy but if it does, oh well! These are my raw feelings I'm trying to workout here.)

"You can do anything you dare to dream." - P.D. Gourlais, diary, April 22, 2011.

When I said yes to this job,
I was afraid.
I needed more courage.
I needed to be brave.
Fear is only conquered
by following through
and this commitment
was huge.

From the moment
I first met her,
I could see inside.
She has wings sprouting
and she was born to fly.

How was I to be a guide
when everyone could see
I was having trouble
just being me?

Tomorrow,
I will let her go
and now I truly know,

she was also my teacher
and helping me to grow.

God brought
our lives together
where we walked
side by side.

Though He gave
me sight,
and she is blind,
we led each other
out of darkness
so we'd no longer hide.

Knowledge is like this.
It passes on like light.
And Love is our bond
that will be forever bright.

P.D. Gourlais

A Homeless Man's Champagne

2011-04-21T15:47:00.001-07:00

(Poem 16/30 from my manuscript in progress)

Among broken, glass bottles,

I found a homeless man's champagne.

Tott's is cheap

but it doesn't matter

on the streets.

Up against

the deteriorated buildings,

his winter clothes lay.

A man can use

five dollars

to wash away his pain.

Without a roof

or a soft place

to put his head

he'd rather drink

than buy

a loaf of bread.

A man can use

five dollars

in a myriad of ways.

I found

an empty bottle

of cheap champagne

today.

P.D. Gourlais

Send Off

2011-04-20T20:13:00.001-07:00

(poem 15/30 from my manuscript in progress)

Everybody says,
"When I die, throw me a party."

But the grieving
never find happiness
in giving a loved one
a fabulous send off.

Instead, they mourn,
self-loath, get lost in pity
and regret.

I say, "Read me a poem."
I say, "Dance to Madonna."
I say, "Feast!"
I say, "Light me an incense."
I say, "Let me be consumed
by fire and turned to clean ash ."

Let me become
like a toasty campfire.

Let me become
like a log on a pyre.

Everybody says,
"When I die, throw me a party."

Maybe it's time
we start listening.

These are my final wishes.

P.D. Gourlais

To Have and To Hold

2011-04-19T20:56:00.001-07:00

(Poem 14/30 from my manuscript in progress)

You are quiet.
I am a Fool
to believe in you.
Trapped inside yourself
you hide away.
I wait patiently.
Open to reality,
as it is,
I see your naked face.
You have a smile
like the Mona Lisa.
I could theorize
what it means
but I won't.
Your mystery
is your mystery.
Your story isn't told.
In your eyes,
you conceal all secrets-
past, present and future.
Come out, come out Shy One!
The world is ours
to have and to hold.
P.D. Gourlais

Nothing

2011-04-18T21:26:00.001-07:00

(Poem 13/30 from my manuscript in progress)

Nothing-
a humble, hallow note.
It may be sung in the choir.
It acts upon everything,
to scatter, release, exclude, and lack.
At the same time, it's just whole
like the breeze.

P.D. Gourlais

Inspiration

2011-04-18T20:44:00.001-07:00

(Poem 12/30 from my manuscript in progress)

In a stranger's smiling eyes,
I saw you.
You were so close,
I went to reach out my hand.

Everyday, you appear
where I least expect you.

I never know when you'll arrive.

Like a late dinner guest ,
you always surprise me.

I await you with hunger.
When we finally dine,
I'm not quite satisfied.

Addicted to your stories,
I anticipate what's new.

You see, I couldn't live
without you
or I'd be starving and die.

So, dance for me once more
in a stranger's smiling eyes.

P.D. Gourlais

Desire

2011-04-18T20:39:00.001-07:00

(Poem 11/30 from my manuscript in progress)

I shed my sin
like the skin of a snake.
An empty shell,
I have died long ago.

For you, I drowned
as desire knows no bounds.
Renewed, I learned to swim.

You played it safe
and chose to stay on shore.
I took a risk to tell.
I fell and hit my head.

Unconscious, I bled
until I could take it no more.
My cries for help
could not escape.

Giving in would make
me yours to take.

I stood my ground.

You didn't come around.

I did not weep.
I went to sleep.

Next time you bite,
go in for the kill.
Desire knows no bounds.
It's only for the thrill.

P.D. Gourlais

Under the Surface

2011-04-18T20:34:00.001-07:00

(Poem 10/30 from my manuscript in progress)

All around me
the air moves.

Moment by moment,
I change with the elements.

Clouds go by
and I fly capricious and free.

Yesterday was complicated.
Today is simplicity.

Maybe I am moody
or maybe I'm just me.

It doesn't matter.

Nothing, O nothing
stays the same forever.

Under the surface,
a great force moves me.

Clouds go by
and I fly capricious and free.

P.D. Gourlais

Untitled

2011-04-14T19:58:00.000-07:00

What words can I say?

There are unspoken ones.
It's not necessary to speak.

The words float like still air
on the back of my tongue.
I reach out to grasp
a concept yet come up
with nothing.

Silence is overwhelming.
It wrestles with the wind

This is the voiceless voice-
the breathless.

Among the internal quiet,
a cacophony surrounds me.

My ears are dizzy
with the activites
of the Other.

I will sit, unmoving,
and breathe surrender.

P.D. Gourlais

Your Face is a Mirror

2011-04-14T18:23:00.000-07:00

(Poem 9/30 from my manuscript in progress)

You're the untouchable.

I lose myself in

the clear stillness

of your bright, blue eyes.

My hands wish to admire

the youthfulness

of your smooth skin.

How do you sit there,

my love,

so poised and unable

to give?

Your face is a mirror

for all I hold within.

Between us,

there's a Universe

of possibility.

You're light years ahead.

I am behind you

and watching you go.

Like a comet,

you return now and then.

Sky surf. Show yourself

off one more time.

I see you.

P.D. Gourlais

In Suspense: A Ballad

2011-04-13T21:34:00.001-07:00

(Poem 8/30 from my manuscript in progress)

I've tried to write this out.

These words belong to you.

This song that is unsung,

this voice that's pushing through.

The silence gently proves

that we've come to our end.

Baby, let's admit

it's us we cannot mend.

The truth is very clear,

we don't even speak.

I see sadness in your eyes

when light is all I seek.

Will we ever go back

to the way we were before?

My heart falls apart

when you walk out the door.

Come here. Walk with me now.

Tell me you want more.

P.D. Gourlais

Short and Sweet

2011-04-12T21:12:00.001-07:00

(Poem 7/30 from my manuscript in progress! P.D.G.)

Bombarded once again
by too much information.
I click in,
and have no time to read.

Everybody and everything
needs some attention,
it seems,
but I'm keeping too busy.

If it's short and sweet,
I have the capacity to read.

When I am too long winded,
I drive myself insane.
Even these poems
are becoming too long.

So, I will keep this short and sweet.
Today, this is my song.

P.D. Gourlais

My Mother is a Refuge

2011-04-11T20:52:00.000-07:00

(*This is poem 6/30 from my manuscript in progress. The more I focus on this new writing process, the more astonished I become as I have no idea what to expect each day. Today might as well be Mother's Day for P.D. Gourlais. :) xoxo )

In times of pain and suffering,

I return to the first Source

of care and comfort I have known-

my mother.

Since I was a helpless,

dependent infant,

my mother has been there

patiently by my side

to console me

and be a witness of my life.

She heard my first breath.

The moment she held me,

she never let me go.

When she first looked

into my eyes, she vowed

to always protect me.

We made a bond

that will last for eternity.

From the beginning,

my precious fate

was in her hands.

Like a shelter,

she shielded me

from the storm.

We spent long hours

together in the aura

of her calmness.

I sensed her stamina

and strength.

Her endurance,

day and night,

has always been bewildering.

I take refuge in my Mother

who is selfless, devoted

and unconditional.

Her hands heal my wounds.

Her voice soothes my mind.

Her faith builds my confidence.

Her words inspire me.

I could only hope to be

half of my Mother.

I love you Mom!

P.D. Gourlais

A Poetic Experiment

2011-04-10T23:42:00.000-07:00

Prayer is when you talk to God; meditation is when you listen to God. - Diana Robinson

So far, I have 5 poems of the 30 that I'm writing with the theme, "my conversations with God". Tonight, I found this quote that exemplifies the way I am receiving this inspiration. I don't know many people who try to pray at least 30 minutes each time. I do know when I meditate, I sit AT LEAST one 30 minute session. Ideally, two or three per day. I have also been doing 1 hour of walking meditation per day in order to clear "mental clutter". I feel very focused on my theme and I think the manuscript is coming along beautifully. When I "listen" I am receiving messages rather than chatting or gabbing in my mind to the Beloved. I do not ask for assistance. I am not supplicating or begging. I am not reciting any special texts. My poetry lately is showing the result of this submissive process. I am going to also resist going to the Tibetan Buddhist temple to chant until these 30 days are over. Perhaps the chanting will lead me to the second phase of this exploration. As it stands, I am not ready to commit to waking up at 6 in the morning in order to make it to 7 o'clock meditation. I already have a lot on my plate with exercise and meditation goals at home.

At times, I am surprised at the words which surface. In others, I struggle to find the right phrase. The most important aspect is that I am enjoying this writing experience immensely. Everyday, I sit down and know that I will write something that is divinely inspired. It comes to me throughout the day when I'm at work or commuting or doing household chores. I never know when.

I've had some Feedback on Facebook and people seem to like what I've written so far. The more I think I've FOUND my voice, the more I realize, I have so many milestones to achieve as a poet and a writer. Intently aiming myself toward a goal has given me clarity and I'm fine tuning my talent. I want quality not quantity. As this world is changing, especially with technology, I have a theory that people are reading less. Blogs are already rumored to be out of style. Status updates are taking over the globe. It's no longer a mass attraction to stop by a blog or a messageboard especially since they are not readily accessible via mobile phone. As a poet, I want to keep up with the times. That doesn't mean I'm going to write only Haikus because they fit into a status update but POST LESS and SAY MORE in the poems I do share. There's always going to be an interest from a crowd to visit a cafe and hear open mic or for readers to go to a reading to hear the poetry they've read. Someday, I may get to the point where I will read more of my work like this. At this time, I am only concerned with my creative process and the result that it yields.

And if you're one who stops by my blog and one who actually cares, I thank you immensely for reading even if you do not comment and you're only stopping in. As you'll see, I've posted my new poems in my poetry section. You'll see one new poem here everyday for 25 more days. Enjoy!

P.D. Gourlais

God's Biography

2011-04-10T18:52:00.000-07:00

(poem 5/30 from my manuscript in progress)

I am a speck of lively dust.

A single synapse in space and time.

I am from a spot on the Sun

where a solitary wave of light

travels into darkness.

The dimpled Moon reflects

my subtle, ancient nature.

I am old. I am wise.

I am the first and last

atom.

Born of lunar sand,

I cannot remember

my beginning

nor do I know the end.

Like a giant, non-desiring eye,

I am a nebula staring out

into a myriad of galaxies.

I wear a halo of

blue, gold, green,

and red.

I blink and blink.

Pulsating to communicate,

I search spiraled trails of light

in order to find my own.

I flirt among young clusters

of stars. I give birth

to supernovas. I condense,

contract and explode.

I am a bold Sun

in the early stages of formation.

I am home, now,

in the midst of billions

of mysterious years as I

expand in infinite directions.

I am ageless and deathless.

I am the Immortal,

Imperishable One.

I possess perpetual power.

I am everlasting and eternal.

P.D. Gourlais

Praising the Loving One

2011-04-09T21:22:00.001-07:00

(poem 4/30 from my manuscript in progress)

O Everlasting One,

the moment I saw you,

I was like a deer

caught in headlights.

You appear synchronisitically

without skipping a beat.

Your power is mesmerizing.

I watch you paint the sky

with your thoughts.

I hear you cry through the rain.

I feel you dance to make thunder.

I sense your whisper in the wind.

I see your majesty in the mountains.

I touch your omnipresence from a vast view.

No matter where I go,

you are everywhere.

You are the Guiding Light

that my soul aims to trace.

All I wish to be or hope to be is one

who emulates you.

Each step of this journey,

I am mystified by Your Grace.

Everything I eat or drink is blessed

by you, the Rich One,

who provides for all Universes

in abundant existence.

I am eternally grateful for your love.

What a joy it is to say,

"I am your child"

and to know that you

are protecting me.

You are the Parent of all parents.

The Almighty Witness

and the Generous One

who is the Giver of Life.

I bow to you,

and offer you my words,

which like a stream,

pour from the core

of my humble heart.

This poem could go on forever

when I am so desperate

to tell you Thank You.

I will stop here, however,

as I know that I will praise

you again soon.

P.D. Gourlais

Silhouettes

2011-04-08T21:08:00.000-07:00

(*Poem 3/30 from my manuscript in progress.*)

I see us before we were born

in a giant waiting room.

Everybody has a number-

their birthdate and a time.

One by one,

the Beloved and the Angels

called our names,

and we stepped forward

to accept the destinies

we would learn

to co-create on Earth.

We were all in a state

of suspense, together,

as the mysteries of our lives

promised to be stories

we could not read beforehand.

You see, my friends,

our memories are very weak

but in past times,

we were cheering for each other

instead of fighting and killing.

O! How the Patient, Indomitable One

must grieve to witness our great sins!

Despite our grave mistakes,

we are pardoned immediately

by the Supreme Being's love.

That's to say, in each moment,

we have a chance to begin again.

Breath upon breath,

this marvelous adventure

unfolds continuously and magically.

Under the supervision

of the Great Compassionate One,

we must vow everyday,

as we did in the beginning,

to do our most excellent best.

We must get along and show respect.

Without accepting the Other,

there is no other way

to transcend a mutual plane

of existence such as this.

Forgiveness is the Bridge

of Brotherhood and Sisterhood.

P.D. Gourlais

Hide and Seek

2011-04-07T17:15:00.000-07:00

Since the beginning,
ours has been a game
of Hide and Seek.

Tonight,
I found you
in a candle flame.
You danced gracefully
to invisible music
moving the air.

Like a spotlight,
your bright essence
filled the space
around you.

The walls of the room
projected shadows
and shapes as
your face transformed
inside the flickering fire.

My soul is home
when I have found you
this way in darkness.

You are everywhere
and nowhere.

Nothing is empty
in your presence.

The Sun is the full view
of you-
the perfect embodiment
of Eternal Light.

You are the Great One-
the Creator-
who gives us Life & Sight.

P.D. Gourlais

Through the Veil

2011-04-06T23:43:00.000-07:00

Draw me closer

to thy lips,

my Lord,

so I may feel

you speak my name.

P.D. Gourlais

ART

2011-04-06T22:50:00.000-07:00

"The creation of beauty is art." Ralph Waldo Emerson

I find so much in this world to be beautiful. Everywhere I turn, there is Art. Art exists naturally because everything in existence is a Creation. I've committed myself to doing walking meditation, which I've been doing for the past 5 weeks. Each time I leave the house, and go into the forest, I find spectacular subjects to gaze at. My senses are filled- sight, sound, smell, taste and touch. I love the sound of the river rushing and the wind moaning through the tops of the pine trees. I can smell the rich scent of the earth and freshly fallen snow or rain. I taste the air, and realize what a miracle it is to be breathing. Everything depends on breath. Without it, we die quickly, and the cells in our bodies go into shock mode. Oxygen is our connection to life. I touch tree branches, flowers, stones and twigs.

Tonight, however, I noticed for the first time that a lot of the trees around me are dead and/or dying. Suddenly, I found myself surrounded in gray with green hills and mountains only present in the distance. I felt the macrocosm shrink in on me and the shrill realization that everything is impermanent. My own death then is easy for me to contemplate. I see and hear myself take my last breath. As the air is leaving my lungs, it is cracking and wheezing. My lips are turning a violet blue color. My face is being drained of color and like the dying trees, it is slowly turning into various shades of gray. I picture my body decomposing and how it is morphed into what would seemingly be ugly-- bloated and disfigured. I see my skeleton. I see myself being cremated and turned to ash. Food for the worms, as they say. This doesn't scare me. Death doesn't scare me (anymore). It is all part of a natural process that is right before my eyes. Death is, perhaps, a morbid form of Art or, we could still consider it to be beautiful. It is only a transformation of something that once was into something that is.

These are my thoughts for the evening. After my walk, I had the idea to also re-commit myself to my Art. I AM the Creator. As a poet, I want to write a 30-day manuscript, one poem per day, of my conversations with God (or the Creator). I want these poems to be very simple and clear. I want them to be a product of my meditations- both walking and sitting.

As a Buddhist, I use this term 'Creator' lightly because everything in the Buddhist scriptures that I study is based on Dependent-Arising, which means a Creator cannot create him/herself. Therefore, the idea of God or a Creator is not present in Buddhist traditions. I kind of like to bend the rules a bit and believe in BOTH. How is this possible? Well, I like to stay open-minded and I tend to think that just because somethings are outside of the realm of human thinking does not mean it does not exist. If Eternal Life does exist, then both Dependent Arising and Creation may be true. Thus, Eternal Life is Creation that never ends. For example, Death is transformation. Like the seasons, we go through changes from one stage to the next. Everything in nature LEADS ME to believe in both Buddhist traditions and traditions like Judaism that accept One Supreme Ultimate Creator. There could be many Creators (or in other words Artists-- he he he).

Here's a funny thought: I cannot imagine how unfair it would be for my cat to have to be a cat for eternity. Can you imagine having to eat all of that cat food and never having a diverse diet? Yes, a mouse now and then but even the concept of reincarnation- a cow is born. A cow could come back in the next life as a cowboy. The cowboy is fortunate enough to have a human life in order to work on his spiritual qualities. There has to be an ULTIMATE TRUTH. Either Eternal Life exists or it does not. Scientifically, there could be dimensions of which we are not even aware. We may not be able to even quantify let alone express or put into words the meaning of life. This might be why so many scriptures are coded with symbols. The psyche deals better with symbols. When we use symbols, we assign meaning to our own, subjective projections.

What is this self-cherishing, "I"? What do "We" mean as a whole?

I hope to explore some of these themes in my 30 poem manuscript over the next 30 days!

Stay tuned. And please comment, if you feel inspired to do so!

Cheers,
Peedee, a poet, and also a philosopher

Everything You Need by P.D. Gourlais

2011-04-02T19:29:00.001-07:00

So much talk these days

about the Law of Attraction.

I guess if you have everything

you need, you will attract nothing.

For me, the attraction is not slowing

or stopping. Does that make me needy?

Do you think so?

If you do, well, you might want

to take a second look at yourself

because you might be missing out

on a cornucopia of abundance

and pleasure.

I am not entirely a hedonist.

I know how to work hard

and play hard.

Sometimes, the work feels

like fun and the play

feels like pain.

I used to think I could

be the one to give you

everything you need

until I discovered

you're the type who

thinks she needs nothing.

P.D. Gourlais

Starving by P.D. Gourlais

2011-04-01T16:00:00.001-07:00

I could mistake this loneliness
as hunger, when in fact,
I am open and ready to love.

I could wish for a wish
that is never fulfilled
but this would make my heart sick
and I won't give up until
I arrive at the Tree of Life.

I have a fixation,
an obsession, yes,
yet I don't want to be possessed.
How do I explain away
a world filled with fantasy
when it's juxtaposed with reality?

It's like trying
to put a rope
through the eye
of a needle.

Impossible.

I am starving
for golden light,
for nectar and nourishment.

The answers do not come easily.

The more I seek,
the more I conclude,
the only place truth is found
is within.

Everything begins within
and everything appears to end.

P.D. Gourlais

Appreciate the one you love with words...

2011-03-31T22:10:00.001-07:00

Ok. This is going to sound like a greeting card (what I'm about to type) but as I sat thinking, I thought of many people I know who could either write this letter or receive it. I was suddenly aware of how much beauty surrounds me from the hearts of so many wonderful people, many whom I keep in touch with here on Facebook. Happy reading! P.D.

Darling,
You've been my rock. You've silently waited in my shadow while I shine. You have a quiet yet supportive demeanor. You're always there for me as dependable as the Sun. You gently smile even when I'm irritable. Your patience is second to none.
How could I ever thank you for all that you've done? I will love you long after I'm gone. I will hope to leave a legacy as beautiful as the one you made for me. If I could learn from your example, I would have been less selfish. You give again, and again. You possess boundless generosity. You do this not just for me but for everyone. Sometimes, I sit back and watch you from a distance and I admire who you are. Never did it seem you became this way, it's just the way you are- brilliant like the stars. It's easy to see why so many people offer you their love and devotion. They are returning a fraction of that of which you're made. You are stellar, beautiful, and my soulmate, so even when we separate (which is inevitable) our love will remain constant and true. Always remember how much I love you... Yours... (Sign your name) he he he

Love Me When I Least Deserve It

2011-03-29T22:33:00.000-07:00

Love me when I least deserve it, because that's when I really need it. - Swedish Proverb

Ah. Big sigh. Ujai yogic breathing. Cyclical, holy breaths. Taking in this quote deeply at the moment. The ocean last week restored the intuition in me that everything is holy and sacred. Even the mundane activities in life, such as doing the dishes or offering forgiveness to someone who needs it, are holy and sacred.

Have you ever said to someone, "Sweetie, I need you to see that I'm suffering as I see when you are suffering too." I have. It is simple really. This statement can scare some people because it's the truth. When we meet people, we create relationships that sometimes turn into twin hearts. Unlike conjoined twins, twin hearts are inseperable. Yoko Ono tweeted yesterday, "Cherish every meeting with someone. The odds of not meeting in this life are so great that every meeting is like a miracle." Even when we are not communicating with words or body language to people whom we've met, there are messages always being sent by way of thoughts we put out into the Universe. Our positive and negative thoughts about others DO AFFECT them. Especially if we talk about those people to other people and that's called gossip. I made a committment a long time ago to do my absolute best to stay away from gossip and the people who do it. I noticed a big change in my life. In fact, suddenly, my life was filled with people that were real, open, loving, generous, abundant, joyous and very caring. It's like choosing between toxic intimacy or healthy intimacy. :) For some who are less spiritually developed, this can be a challenge especially in the beginning stages of spiritual development.

As a Zen practioner, I watch my thoughts a lot. Somedays, they absolutely drive me crazy. Here's one example: I woke up today with a Metallica song stuck in my head. I haven't listened to Metallica for years since my days as an athlete and throwing weights in the weight room. I thought to myself, what in the world is this song doing in my head? There is always constant chatter that seems useless in my mind. Now, if you take that chaos in there and remotely concentrate it on someone or something, you are perceiving subjects and objects. This is why it's so easy to objectify others. We constantly do it unconsciously. There's a difference if we are able to become mindful of subjects and objects. Bring them to our attention but do our best not to place judgments on them. I read a pamplet at work today that gave tips on how to counteract violence and one of the tips stuck in my mind: "Be a mirror. Not a microscope." Nobody likes to keep company with someone who is overly critical. These type of relationships usually turn into hell. But if we recognize we are always reflecting the good AND the bad in each other, we can make our expectations more realistic.

I like to do activities that put "spaces" in my mind. For example, a 30 minute meditation of doing Zazen on a cushion. A one hour swim, run or walk. Tea with a good book. I've even tried to insert spaces while I'm at work and doing my duties, for example, holding a baby and meditating on the baby. Babies are teaching me a lot at this new job. I look at how amazing they are, little miracles, and their hands are so tiny. One of their first instincts is to grasp things and they love to grasp my fingers while I feed them their milk in bottles. I watch them breathing, their peaceful faces and their sleepy gazes. I watch the way they move their bodies awkwardly and how hard it is for them to hold their own heads up until they reach a certain age. When I find insight in regular activities like this, I am thrilled. It means I'm growing spiritually on what normally would seem like an average day.

So, these are kind of some thoughts running through my mind tonight. I've committed to a 30 day "Soul Coaching program", which aims to clear out energy from home, mind, body, spirit, and emotions. I just completed my second day by journaling here on my blog tonight about what I've noticed so far. I think it's very significant and will become more significant as the days go by.

In California last week, I spent so much time by Water and Air elements, that at home, I'm aiming to manifest more opportunities to invite Earth and Fire into my life to balance out the elements I'm inviting to help me with this cleansing of my sacred spaces. I feel the Earth deeply when I go to the forest for walks. I feel Fire when I feel excited about my progress or I get a good workout. I am needing more courage to JUMP into the great unknown. I like to go prepared, so this is why I'm focusing so much on de-cluttering my home, preparing everything for moving boxes eventually and taking with me only what I absolutely must have NOW. :)

I plan to make lists of goals every day and achieve them all-- short term and long term. This is a view of my entire life and the way I wish to be living. It is a complete review of my values system. And where there are spaces cleared, there is more room to invite those who may appear into my life either romantically or no. We shall see when I get there! :) I have deadlines for certain duties and other ones, it simply takes time to develop. :)

Goodnight from a spring cleaning queen... passover is almost here and I shall be read. Bye bye Chametz!

P.D. Gourlais