madness threatens me
i know it
i court it
but it cannot take hold
deep inside me
cold stone sober
someone waking up in my memory
someone strong someone good
someone from the olde days
when things were much easier
in a world of pain
my hero incubates numb
he will assume his cloak of deepest dignity
he will guide me forwards
he will see thru my eyes
he will speak in my voice
he will sing my songs in a new loving way
he will show me my path
where is he?
who i was and who i am to be
a real hu-man
i, man who mediates between god and nature
i, man compassionate and resilient
i, man no longer a savage
capable of making right choices
a real clint eastwards
a real matty clyde
dauntless gaunt gun slingin’ sages and wisemen wiseguys
guys who just do it
they dont talk
they dont doubt
they dont second guess every thing
the guys the ladies all love
the guys the children all trust
the guys who take care of business
righteousness and mercy
grace and perseverance
ascetic who disdains luxury
committed to dharma
strong in non violence
except when the evil monsters must be slain
monsters of cowardice and greed and presumption
men addicted to food
weaklings dominated by their bellies and wine
laziness and sloth
vanity must be conquered
spiritual pride will be your undoing
a man must fight to be good
a man must make informed decisions
a man must avoid ignorant companions
a man should have a template
what would christ do?
what would buddha say?
a man must have perspective
a man must learn to listen
a man should love his woman with all his heart
a man must believe in something
i call forth this man who i am not yet
can you change change change at will?
nonetheless i impatiently await him
wherever he is
bubbling under in deep amnesia
i summon him to the surface
i stand in asanas and i feel him stir somewhere
in the power and glory of rock music i ask for response
i look for him in the passage of pastel over paper
i scan the mirror
but he has not arrived
how do you face a void?
with courage
like matt…
a lot of emptiness for people to get thru now
a lot of nothing
a lot of empty pages and empty chairs
we ache for the very thing we cant have
our minds understand but the heart rebels
why dont you, god, rush in to fill this emptiness?
oh god, why is it so hard to find you?
god, i have so many complaints against this world
it could have been paradise
is this then free will?
can i blame thee for the evil that men do?
god why did matt die so soon and like that?
what could have been done or was it ever his fate?
oh god, i beg you for a quick release for myself
you know most of all
i do not have that mans fortitude
his burden was agony yet he bore it with style and smile
his struggle has enriched me beyond even his belief
i am truly humbled
oh and it feels so good
my friend has vanished
but his humanity remains
his big spirit his big heart
this i want
this i covet
can it only be obtained by deep suffering?
then this price is too great…
no wait….
but why must it be so?
so our soul becomes refined
is the suffering necessary to blast away the dross?
good god, we are still your children
please alleviate us of pain and grief
who was this man who passed through our midst?
a bodhisatva
everyman
man of joy and sorrows
you should be proud anyway
this world hurled everything it had and he shrugged
he was connected to something i doubt he could name
my brother says he made a conscious decision to be that way
but i never would have guessed it
sometimes i despair for men
and then men come along like that matt
and then suddenly you realise
but as usual for me
too late
to late
they already shut the gate
you realise your memories of him
that you retained so casually
were nuggets of gold waiting to be discovered
you go back in time
all the times you saw him
how was it you never quite realised that he was…..
something else…
something else again
why dont men of this calibre lead us?
matty would never have bombed civilians or refused asylum
god how sad that the good guys are so rarely in charge
do we need evil so good can exist?
matty was a needle in a haystack
he was a silver lining
he was hope in human flesh
and this was his reward?
there is much in this for me to learn
but i resent it being at the price of a mans life
if you did not intervene then why…..?
but of course
that is none of my business
it is between you and him…
he probably already knows by now
we who grieve for him
while he roams free and splendid
anyway
he certainly surprised my jaded sensibilities
beyond new age dribble
beyond fashion or society
beyond any religion or doctrine
beyond despair almost
the man simply just was
he just was good
he was born good and he got better
listen to me now
oh ive met clever men
ive met talented charismatic men
ive met iggy pop and ive met tom verlaine
ive met geniuses and oddballs
ive met great musicians and cool friends
ive met rich guys with tons of cocaine
ive met promoters and writers and film makers
ive met guys i liked n disliked
but hardly ever
did i meet anyone really good
good doesnt really announce itself that much
or dress up in fancy colours
it so subtle in this chaos of living
maybe i only ever see it once it has permanently passed
maybe that is real goodness though
a seed planted
the seed itself is destroyed by the tree
the tree becomes strong and bears delicious fruit
virtue as its own reward
your own high standard
a rigourous examination of your accounts
dont remain in shadow
look inwards and wonder
let go let go let go
courage the heart of a lion
non attachment the size of ancient india
even-handessness…steady as she goes
be prepared to say goodbye to any or everything
its gonna happen so you better get ready
cheerfulness is not just an act
we should act optimistically because its simply better that way
the philosophy of the pre-emptive strike
is a self fulfilling prophecy of misery
we should let each other be
work on yourself
change yourself…not others
oh you will fail and fail and fail
i do
but now i try
i try to do what i can
whatever i do
i could never be as good as the real good guys
but i can try
keep trying until the inevitable end
thats life really
in a nutshell
sooner or later your boat will sink
you hope its later
but later aint never
george sang about it in “the art of dying”
nothing in this world that ive been trying
can equal or surpass the art of dying
now he knows for sure and matt too
one day we all will
as it should and apparently must be
it is a paradox that matts agonizing death
points a way towards living a better life
yet the fact remains….
hey matty
its true
upstairs is very pleased with your work