Monday, April 25, 2016


Processing Aloneness and the Pain of Others,
Which is My Pain Too And I
Am Blessed Enough to Taste It,
Bitter and Sweet, Like Rich Hot Cocoa
And Burnt Roof of Mouth;
La Dulce Culpa.



By Marval A Rex

There is only so much you can do.
There is this breath.
There is this moment.
We as this species are built to believe we know.
Right now we think we know.


I sit here, embroiled in my own emotional wave.
Also attune to the other that is myself.
And I think I know.

The truest wisdom I’ve heard so far
(and I just cleaned out my waxy ears literally, so my hearing is more clear)
Is that you can’t truly know anything.
The trick, the dance:

It’s about having boundaries when you feel that there are
No boundaries between
anything and anyone
And the terror of that truism
Keeps us all thinking that
We know.

I’ve seen two people become one
I’ve witnessed swaths of people act and breathe as one
I’ve felt this species as one.

And yet our mind runs us around the track and shen-pas and
Shit storms all over
the unification parade
The consolidated dance
The everything messiness
That our brain even prescribes it
As mess

When it is our brain that is run amok.
And I know that all the hateful, distrustful, saddened words
Of everyone everywhere,
All the people who distrust you
Distrust themselves

Don’t have their brain in order.  

And let all the genius truths of their body be distorted
By the mind and let
the  brain build

A castle of defenses and supposed truths
And blame the other
And feel resentment
Out of their own sense of
Internal chaos

Further muddied by the shit slinging mind out-of-bounds
The mind is not inherently evil
Nothing is
Nothing is inherently anything
Our minds have created evil 

As a response to information from our bodies.

Our minds give words and the words
Hold weight
And sometimes these words

can weigh us down.

Sometimes we chain ourselves to words
Words chain themselves to us, clandestinely
When we think we have freed  our self.
When we think we have it right
We crucify ourselves with the smugness reserved
Only for the Mind.

it’s amazing!
To evoke Awe.
The complexity is the majesty
Of kinesiology.
The kinesiology of God,
Our truly weighted word for
Sheer luminescent brilliance,
As prescribed by the Christians. 

Felt by all,

Even when in deep deep denial
For darkness darkens your mind
And crumples the body
But the awesome-ness exists on
In your fecundity
Brighter than ever

For your mind to grow weak
While the body grows even weaker.
It waits
Licking itself to a shimmering bold hue
until you break
And then grants you release
As some form of death.

Sometimes our bodies follow along with this death
And we mourn for the change
We don’t understand.

I’ve seen some darkness.
I’ve gone down into places,
Which allows for my beacon
My lighthouse ringing near and far
To expose more of my shadow.

They’re handsome, devilish
Toothy and well dressed
Ivory skin and like every gaunt
And banal vampire of every romance novel ever

But actually a phantom
Who craves music first
Blood second
Love third.

What do you see?
Its an amorphous movement
But can become anything,
Your shadow.
It will tell you things
You need to know

What do you see?


In reparations for my
my bleak shadowness gifts me:

My light grows bright.
For I’ve embraced darkness
known darkness
Felt darkness and
Succumbed to the black
Of my night, your night
And the world’s night.
I’ve turned every sound off
And violently torn my eyes
Apart in the deep silence
Of inverted mass.

I have been gifted with the darkness
The drowning loudness of death
And in its shamanimity

That has groped me tenderly
I have been given
The eyes of others.
To see their pain
Their worlds
Their hurts
Their discrepancies
Their dislocated tendencies
Their flashing pasts
Their tone all the way down to the

And my broken inner child
Climbing the mountain of its new
Bodice, no dislocations there
Asks and call for one slice of
Weighty words:

“I don’t understand,
But I want to. I want to try to
Understand you”

If I look to understand you
I come to see more of myself,
Us broken angels, some
Of us don’t want to understand ourselves
Out of our broken bottomness
Out of the shards
We refuse because
they sting on the reuptake

And even then
Even momentarily fused to
Another’s brokenness
A reflection of my own stained brittleness
I am still grasped by the beauty
Broken or whole

Because it is all mine
All of it is in me
And I am in all
Basic basic basic
It’s been said before
The mind comes in and judges and analyzes and takes all apart

But it doesn’t make it any less true
And logic loses here
So I don’t spend time focusing on the A or B or C
I focus on my love
My listening
And my surrendering
To my moment
Your moment
And the broken to whole
And the just plain broken

And the plain glorious whole of
All of it
With holiness in sight,

Or not.

Because it is wholly holy no matter what
You think.
Caving in,
I will offer you a hand
I will listen
And try to understand.
I will try I will try.
Even when I can barely handle my own depth
Of the summit of my sadness
And the whispers of my psyche take over me
And consume and frighten me into
A shivering child whose
Fear is of its own

You did nothing wrong.
The wrongness is a judgement
Based on an illusion
Created by a mechanism
Infiltrated with fear

How do I release the Movie?
Focus on the beauty.
Focus on the Love.
Focus on the Art and the Truth
And the soft purr of cat cheek on my arm
And the softness available
In every touch.

And the connecting and blurring with others.
Focus on self gratitude and self care.
And creative loving, living.
Don’t act out of mental fear,

Sit and wait and
wait to respond
And fall in

With your generator,
Your holy turbine of trumpeting
Fall in love with your vessel
And the mind will quiet and
Serve a dull texture
And lose its weighty words
And beg you to come back
Even if it's a back to come with a
Body full and present
And as the center console of your

My design is to empower and
Provide support
When it is your design and when it is your aura
Others will react as they do
Depending on their stage where they
May or may not dance with their darkness
I have so far to go I feel
But it is exciting
The challenge
And it is rewarding

My heart croons to me.
And one day my hunger will lessen
My thoughts will gain buoyancy
And will fade when need be

And I won’t
Treat anyone
Just because my pain is weedling me around it’s little thumb

I will know all my pain,
And be open to knowing its newness
As it rises each morning
For layers grow like skin
And layers scar over for revisitation
The raised resuscitations of whimpering memory
Scars are legacy.

And I am nothing
Nothing and a q/hero:
So I keep on keeping along
Floating down the river
Trying to find the strategy

In a swift paddle move here and there
To graciously kiss the space between
Myself and jagged rock
And love the river
And surrender to the jetting stream
And open myself up

To the deep dull sadness
And explosive almost violent joy
That is caught in every swing
Of river bend and
Paddle sweep.

I am River
I am Bird
I am Marval,
Marvel of neux-ness
Of spiralling presence that
Announces full and bright

“I am Now”
I am Now
I am here Now
I am here Now Doing
I am Myself here Now Doing
I am Myself here Now Doing and I’m Busy

Busy empowering and supporting
Myself and others
And surrendering
To this wild wild ride.

What a Long Strange Trip It’s Been.

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