An Electric Friend

An electric friend lights quiet compassion,
the ties that bind a subtle current
flowing at the speed of a flash
that is recognition in another's eyes

Unmatched is the bond, known
between friend and friend, they silently speak
a truth shared within

Sitting beside one another, they can agree
that the world is a convoluted mess
filled with random chaos in search
of stability, because stable is comfortable

Comfort in the lies is but a way
to pass the time, so we shake the present,
inside it may break or break us free
and either way relearn to just let go

Letting go is giving up the ghost
and surrendering to those demons
inside of us the very pain
we've lived in until we can cry
it all away until another day

'Tis only through our pain can we see
the hidden miracle - We must ask
the question, no matter the result

Jordan P Fitzpatrick & Michael J Dingler (Jan '06 - New Orleans, LA)

Darryl Started me off With This First Line

The right use of will
is always most important when darkness
falls across a shadowed land,
trees swaying in the winds
of change, the winds deranged
blowing madly to the dawn,
the madness a yawn come early,
surly and sad - a sigh
let out before all time passes
into the history of the dead,
the history for the well-read
to read at night before
they tuck themselves into bed
finally believing that they are now safe.

12/30

My Beautiful and Charming Child

Aside from the fact that I have two beautiful and charming little girls, we'll focus on my three and a half year old for the moment. Since our daycare was closed today for the coming Christmas holiday, my wife was taking our oldest to work with her while I get to be adventure boy with my two year old. As she's settling in to her seat in the backseat of the car, she looks down at one of those plastic kiddie bowls that litter our car and announces to my wife, "Mommy, that bowl is fucking dirty." End of story...out of the mouths of babes. Of course, when my wife stopped back by so that I could get the little ones baby seat out of the car, the was a very demure and shy girl sitting back there while the story was relayed. My response...we'll make a sailor of her yet. And that is the beginning of my Friday before Christmas. Hope the holidays are good for all. MD

A Post Apocalyptic Nightmare Called Home

It is in the stillness that we bend,
horrid creatures crouching sad,
the glad facade a cavalcade of joy
that is torpid and warm-
a spattering of blood slowly drip, drip, dripping.

It is in the marketplace of the world
that we explode a curious bunch
of ardent full-believers in a dream
that to some may seem a distant
and complacent place of heresy.

It is in reformation that we grow
like giants to the sky, hands raised
in holy genuflection to the self-
the mortal and immortal
that is both larger and smaller than itself.

It is in ego that we fall horribly
hard to the pits of despair we call unfair,
angels no longer loved or in love-
drenched in pools of fire, liquid blue
and vulgar like a leper's crutch tapping on stone.

It is in charity that we mend
the broken fences of the world
that we've hurled tempest-tossed into the air
of what happens next when the wind
is blowing hard - leaves ripping from the trees.

It is in solutions that we find absolution
when we tell all the dirty little secrets
of ourselves and others, especially others,
to find forgiveness, the credence of forgiveness
that is a godless and abundant artform.

It is in resistance that we make the call
for mounting a diverse strategy
of imposing thoughts, a forward-continuum
that is the science of advertising that opposes the spirituality
of naked souls crying out in silent screams.

It is in sexual indulgence that freedom is found,
lustful stimulation that is in and out again,
illuminations in the dark, retardations of the spark
that was once animalistic and divine,
retardations that are toxic and perverse.

It is in the middle millhouses of the earth
where we find the hungry and the poor,
where the whores lie rotten, rotting in stench-
rimmed corridors and behind closed doors
while water leaks from rusting pipes - drip, drip, dripping.

It is in the sky that we find salvation,
damnation, seeking a sacrament that tastes
of wine and blood, of shit and lies,
all the things that I despise
wrapped up conveniently in one bundle called my home.

MJD '05

The Sea Unchanged

Another day down and done,
another day yet begun.
Golden hues of death, rebirth,
rise with the Herons like a spear
over a crystallized horizon-
furied flight raging westward.

A tortured oaken coastline emerges,
home country and safe harbor;
cold arms of the sea let go
to warm embraces of the one I call beloved.
Jagged jetties reach out, their lingering stone fingers
stroking the feet of the blithe lovers near shore;
blackened shapes against the burnt amber sky.

At night, the sea twinkles red
and green and the shore rises from the deep
in honey-colored lights of life,
static-electric and bright, the streets swimming
with jovial masses hand-clinging and swinging.

Theirs are carefree days and careless whispers
unknowing of the men toiling under savage tasks
their mistress bids them do, shirts sweat-soaked
and clinging unnecessarily to their skin-
savage hearts in a ravaged land
where lace graces clinging chimes on a dusty porch
and a young girl smiles under a dirt-smudged face.

Gleaming eyes of children teaming the water's edge
when the whistle of lady steel sails into harbor
outweigh the hulks rusting at the pier;
their orange corpses a dotted horizon
of cranes, mastheads, and wheelhouses,
their bilges filling with water and mold:
the smell of mildew penetrating the decks as
mold and ivy grow up the clapboards
that once teamed with life and now decadent rot
ever simmering, swirling in the acrid summer afternoon.

Behind cracked, rotting picket fences
mothers cling babies to their breasts.
The sea claims what it wants like a lustful heart
ever hungry for more, an appetite
insatiable and perillously wreckless,
heaving boats and their crew to the deep
on a sad wind-swept night where the sounds
of the buoy bell drown out screams from sunken hopes.

Gossamer moonlight slithers
over the trails of ghosts
sliding along the tidewaters
and currents, mournful and slow,
a sinking eddy that denies advance
and transfer, a sinking eddy that denies
a home of a father or brother or son...

All the while, church bells clang
from the bellfry; they ring out their song
ceaseless as the tides and unchanging.
Clanging, they herald deaths of those away;
unchanged, they clang faithful to worship,
unchanged, they announce new birth:
God, the sea, and the bells, unchanged.

Art McLean & Michael Dingler
29 September 05

worth every effort

But they said it was all
worth every effort even if no one else
understands. But what is understanding when
the world is waiting for anyone strong enough
to face the unknown wasteland that is gossamer
and blithe? Living sounds good on paper,
but so did a communism that is free and lustful
where true opportunities are passed by daily.
Are you willing to follow the herd,
you sheep, that sleeps well and warm in their coats?
It's nice when it starts raining shit
that flows downriver and out to sea,
where you go to find out how little you know
in your heart of hearts
that is right in the middle of getting what you want,
because want is subjective, and need and want
are two faces of a coin that will
never, never say never again, but the
motion of my mind is making me dizzy,
tired, and in the end, we all
sacrifice.


Jordan P Fitzpatrick & Michael J Dingler (August '05 - Pilottown)

Evolution or De-Volution

In a recent conversation with someone, I realized that some of those polls put out by newspapers and the like have some substance. In 2001, there was a Gallup poll that had showed that only a third of Americans believed in the Theory of Evolution as set forth by Charles Darwin. Also, 57% believed in Creationism, inasmuch that man was created by God approximately 10,000 years ago and has remained in that same state since. A whopping ten percent said they weren't sure. They must've been confused over all of the mounting evidence to the contrary of Creationism.

I don't mean to sound like one of those people who think they know all the details about the scientific facts concerning evolution, because I certainly don't. And I'm not one of those intelligentsia elites proposing ivy league theories that my liberal mass media compadres will then force down America's throats (on FOX, perhaps). I'm just a guy who thinks it makes sense.

A basic anthropology class will show that there is a chain of ancestors for the current human species (Homo Sapiens Sapiens, by the way). The earth, is four point something billion years old, too. Thus, under what circumstances was man miraculously created ten thousand years ago? Oh, God did it. Well, 'God' is many things, but I have the lingering suspicion that 'He' hasn't done anything spontaneous since the Big Bang. Even then, perhaps, under the best theological philosophy, 'God' guided the development of people. To me, evolution seems like educated common sense.

Getting back to the conversation I had mentioned, there was a young man who has recently gotten out of high school and who, by most accounts, I would expect to at least know of evolution. Alas, he needed the theory of evolution explained to him. I was not expecting to be challenged by the fact that we (people) had developed from ape-like creatures for I had assumed that would have been taught to him. For all intensive purposes, evolution is more of a science (anthrolopogical as it may be). Disallusioned is, possibly, a good word to describe my realization that it is not something worth learning. And I wonder why the United States is marginally comparative on educational structures to our European counterparts.

And then there is Kansas. Kansas - The state that is preparing their children for ignorance in higher institutions. Kansas - The state that declares an open symposium (I'm being extremely generous in using the word symposium) for scientists to discuss evolution, though the school board hosting the symposium has already banned it. Kansas - The state that has turned the clock back such that they teach Creationism instead of Evolution. Yes, the disenfranchised can always teach their children at home...but what if I don't want my child learning Creationism? What if, in all my limited wisdom, I've come to the conclusion that zealots of any color are just as bad no matter where they live, what they wear, what language they speak or which book they profess. Fundamentalism is the ignoring of nuances that define the nature of a religion and break-down the multitude of truths into core philosophies that ultimately end up contradicting the said religion. And if fundamentalism is the direction that Kansas wants to take, then I'm inclined to reverse my position on states like California being a little out there.

Thus, I am disappointed that America has maintained the same percentages on this topic for nearly the last twenty years. It makes me wonder what they teach in schools and universities. It makes me wonder about what else is lacking in the educational system. The young man I had the conversation with is a fairly bright kid, but it saddens me to also mention that he couldn't point out the Mississippi River on a map that included the Gulf of Mexico & the Caribbean. Instead, he pointed at Panama. When that didn't work, he pointed at the Orinoco River in Venezuela. I try not to get frustrated with him because I realize he doesn't know and then I feel a certain responsibility to teach him. It's hard to teach someone while trying not to seem like you're teaching someone, more like passing knowledge on in a conversation.

I have an endgame philosophy that says if I can change the way a person thinks about something and they can pass that on somehow, then maybe it's worthwhile to try. Maybe it's worthwhile to try and explain complicated things, such as evolution, the theory of relativity, or even how rainbows work. Creationism, I'll save that lecture for the man who only knows how to read one book.