Shawn Michael Quinn: 2000

If heaven calls...

All this talk of getting old
It's getting me down, my love
Like a cat in a bag, waiting to drown
This time I'm comin' down
And I hope you're thinking of me
As you lay down on your side
Now the drugs don't work
They just make you worse
But I know I'll see your face again
Now the drugs don't work
They just make you worse
But I know I'll see your face again

But I know I'm on a losing streak
'Cause I passed down by your street
And if you wanna show, then just let me know
And I'll sing in your ear again
Now the drugs don't work
They just make you worse
But I know I'll see your face again

'Cause baby, oooooooh
If heaven calls, I'm coming too
Just like you said
If you leave my life, I'm better off dead
All this talk of getting old
It's getting me down my love
Like a cat in a bag, waiting to drown
This time I'm comin' down
Now the drugs don't work
They just make you worse
But I know I'll see your face again
Yeah, I know I'll see your face again
Yeah, I know I'll see your face again

We're gone, but we don't know where..

Might, and Memory

I didn't hear you leave ..
I wonder how am I still here
And I don't want to move a thing
Cause it might change my memory
Oh I am what I am, I do what I want
But I can't hide, I won't go
I won't sleep, I can't breathe
Until you're resting here with me
I won't leave, I can't hide
I cannot be, until you're resting here with me
I don't want to call my friends
They might wake me from this dream
And I can't leave this bed
And risk forgetting all that's been
Oh I am what I am, I'll do what I want
But I can't hide, and I won't go, I won't sleep
I can't breathe, until you're resting here with me
And I won't leave, I can't hide
I cannot be until you're resting here
And I won't go, and I won't sleep
And I can't breathe, until you're resting here with me

Oil of Angels

First, he's inched her latch down

Anxious, her hand begs, and now my distraction

Distraction

I will learn to focus on, oh you..

Cause you won't recognize it, stabilize it

Things take, take me, to exception

Look for respect, respect, down, down there

You're not a nice track footfall, round

Will we still hold, rain, things we couldn't do

Strive, for me to leave, rights of her, rights

Treasure her, treasure her freshness first

He's inched her latch down, anxious

Oh, her hand begs, and my distraction

Distraction

I will learn to, I will learn

To focus on you, to focus on you

Cause you won't recognize it

Recognize, stabilize it, stabilize it

He even finds a way, supreme, man improves

Like what might see, her life, for everyone

Will it still hold rain, things we couldn't do

Strive, for me to give, rights of her

Rights, treasure her, treasure, her freshness

I will learn to focus on you, you

The Art Of Deprivation

I can't turn it off like I used to be able to do. Or should I say that I wont? (because can't lives on wont street) It sure feels like can't though. It was my conscious safety net for years. I felt so much that I couldn't handle it so I turned everything off. I used the song "Third-Day-To-Forever" when I first heard it. I remember the numbing effect it had on me, how it totally enveloped me, that protection from her, from me, from anything... It was the only thing I knew. I sure didn't know how to handle love. I know I can't deal with things this way any longer. I know that when it turns back on, no matter how long it was off, those demonic feelings wait for you. There is no escape from those feelings, only temporary illusions of absence. They lurk in dreams, showing inescapable situations until you wake up hoping they were only dreams and then realize that reality is more frightening and inescapable. Sooner or later, we must deal with what we have been dealt, be it pain, regret, abandon, fire, or just more emotion than we are used to dealing with...

This is why I often sit dreaming of slicing my wrists in vertical fashion, of flying swan style off the Henry Hudson Hotel, of pressing a 45 against my temple, of placing my big toe on the trigger of a double barrel shotgun - because I feel these things. If I shut them off, I will only have to deal with them later. If I deal with them now, maybe they'll go away sooner, but not only that - I can not live a lie anymore... To live asleep holds nothing for me. You may say 'you'd be happy, comfortable, safe' but I do not believe in that life. I do not want a comfortable life. I do not want some illusion of safety. I don't believe in its existence, not on that realm. And the word 'happy' is a signature on the credit card receipt of the sale of your human soul...

Deprivation truly is beautiful. To deprive yourself or to be deprived of that which you need, want, and desire, by your beloved, by your conditions, or by yourself, no matter who or what that is, is beauty beyond compare... In deprivation, you feel each and every slice from the blades of the ticking clock, as if it truly existed. Every waking moment is testament of that agony. Every distraction is seen for what it is in light of that deprivation, a distraction only, a moment of shelter, but just by realizing it, or thinking of it, you manhandle the blades once more. There is no escape, no true shelter, no quarter given. In sleep, dreams come to you, of comfort, of a lovers face, of her lips, her touch, her love, but you wake, yet again deprived, and it hurts that much more, because for those moments, you thought that comfort might have been real..

Water, hot, while showering, sitting, at the bottom of a tub, with each drop hitting you, one after the next, incessantly, yet frozen in the moments between time and what comes next, the steam rising, enveloping you in the fogs of comfort, soothe the aching heart, but for moments only. In each moment between, time attacks you, and the water betrays you, by giving you the space to think, to daydream, to indulge in fantasies, of comfort, love, a woman's touch... Yet again, deprived. It is only you, dreaming, alone. But this is the essence of appreciation, the opposite of granted, of taking a moment for granted. In every self-indulgent masochistic moment that I sit here and fantasize of death, or love, or comfort of any kind, I can appreciate this moment, alive, truly understanding what this 'time' is handing me, the gifts possessed. I am aware - asleep or awake - of my choices, of my emotions and feelings, of my pain, and my soul's deprivation. This is art.

The Blades Of Abandon

Questions swallow me

Taunting me with hope and deprivation

As I continue to press harder

I wonder, could I feel more alive than this?

Your words I choose

Like beauty in a twelve piece cutlery set

Caressing and admiring

In a world of nothing else

I run them down my arms

Softly over my skin

And feel the gifts they possess

Still, I am unable to choose

I focus on my changing reflection

Pondering the fear and questions

Again I dreamt of a world where blood drips forever

I close my eyes

Just a little longer this time

And let my fingers find that which my eyes could not

I hear the word and let go of my hold

This abandon becomes a shadow in my place

ⓒ 2000 Shawn Michael Quinn

2000 Soundtrack

Slower

The leaves fall slower today. I remember them falling before this in past years. Susanna only watches them as they approach the pavement. She's always looking at the ground. New York City in the fall feels like being inside a snow globe watching the snow fall. It's beautiful, like a dream, and doesn't seem real. Everything starts to freeze and people become quiet. They watch and their eyes tear as they walk quickly to their destination. In the cold, everyone has to get there just a little bit quicker. That fatal germ could be right behind you. Gotta bundle up. Gotta move fast. Gotta stay quiet.

We walk in silence and our hands only touch through the gloves. Our eyes seldom meet. Our minds wander. Our souls sleep. We walk to the train at Ditmars and up the steps. I fumble around looking for my metrocard. She's already gone through the turnstile. She waits for me motionless, hollow, frozen by the cold. I swipe my card and follow her up the stairs. The train is there as always, and I sit next to her as we wait for it to leave. It starts to get warmer as people fill in the voids in the seats strategically. I watch them as they get on. and follow their eyes. They look for the safest place. The most comfortable angle with the least amount of people in close proximity and sit there. Our eyes sometimes meet then simultaneously pull away in sync. Intimacy like this is taboo on the train. Eyes are windows to the soul its said, and there are too many dark corners of New York city. Too many birds of prey looking for scraps to devour. Too many parasites looking for fresh meat. Too many villains searching for new victims. Too much fear.

Moments have passed and I remember that I am not alone. Its easy to forget in this weather, the cold. Your body freezes, your eyes freeze, and your mind freezes onto the last daydream, that last fantasy you indulged in. You sometimes have to see the person sitting next to you to remember you are awake. I have difficulty remembering, so I blink my eyes and shake my head abruptly to jar my mind loose from the hold of the cold. I see her face, share an empty smile, and look away again. I find an easy object to lock onto randomly and lose focus again.

The train starts to move and I'm jarred awake again. My hands start to sweat from the gloves combined with her heat, realizing we're still holding hands. I pull my hand away with a soft glance to explain. I remove the gloves and touch her hand again. I feel the clothe of her glove and begin to feel the distance. The feel of her glove reminds me of cotton balls and I cringe but I know I can't pull my hand away again. I'm not quite sure why, I just know that I cannot.

The train stops at Astoria Blvd and more people get on. As the train fills in more, a homeless man wanders in and sits across from us. He looks through me. But his stench envelopes me. I feel there is no more filth than in New York city. I remember the summer days when I would pray for rain to wash away the filth and the streets could carry the sweet aroma again of fresh rain. But it doesn't rain like this in the fall, nor on the trains. At 30th Ave, people get off the train and move to other cars to avoid the smell. Susanna nor I move at all. Its as if our minds are still frozen by the cold air coming in from the sliding doors, and are unable to move. The smell is overpowering, repulsive. But we seem to have just accepted it. We seem unaffected by it as anything more than mild discomfort. Neither of us willing to break the silence or empty stares.

We sit still. Motionless. Calm. Quiet. I focus on the poetry in motion signs hanging atop the train handles. It reads, "The Snowman" and I remember winter is coming and that it'll soon be even colder. My aimless thought patterns are interrupted as the conductor says "Broadway." Susanna squeezes my hand gently and I turn to her. Her eyes saying goodbye as my eyes are woken returning the silent word. She kisses my cheek and releases my hand. as the train pulls away we catch eyes through the accelerating plexiglass again. The look on her face unchanged, and I think how strange it was to feel her skin on my still cold face.

Prick 2, Philly Party / Zine

"now.

this anger you blow out like wind is just an escape from what you have given

and until you give it up, it will dance in front of you holding an empty cup

give it a given...

or just fucking give it up.

xxxxxxxxxxx"

"i wish i could pick you up

carry you away from all of the disgust

take you to the highest mountain

and wash you off

unclip your wings

and send you up again

watch you soar

but even if I gave you the cure

saved your salvation

and gave you more

your satisfaction wouldn't last

your fickle fancy taste

would have you in a fit of rage

craving and writhing

tempting and trying

for the perfect feeling

just don't descend

it's a spiral with no end

we're not that boring

nothing here is that great

just hold on tight and wait

living is a drawn out form of dying

but we should quit whining

at least we got the chance"

"give away the givens

start choppin

you're all heart

but me.

i'm still hard."

~Jennie Tagle

Escapism

Q: 101.

In a way its all a matter of time
I will not worry for you, you'll be just fine
Take my thoughts with you and when you look behind
You will surely see a face that you recognize..
You're not alone, I'll wait 'till the end of time
Open your mind, surely it's plain to see
Your not alone, I'll wait 'till the end of time for you
Open your mind, surely there's time to be with me
Is it the distance that makes life a little hard?
Two minds that once were close now so many miles apart
I will not falter though, I'll hold on to your home
Safely back where you belong, and see how our love has grown
Your not alone, I'll wait 'till the end of time
Open your mind, surely its plain to see
Your not alone, I'll wait 'till the end of time for you
Open your mind, surely there's time to be with me
Your not alone, I'll wait 'till the end of time with you
Open your mind, baby there's time for me and you..

Seep With The Salt

Nothing is hidden in this world of make believe

So think again with your fucking conspiracies

This shit you think you’ve swept under the rug

Festers into all you’ve been afraid of

Witness and question, become the victim

Blame me for your inescapable position

Bleed, taste it and vomit

Become it, you piece of shit

Your ignorance is no longer in a state of bliss

You can no longer claim to be an innocent witness

Taste it! Can you fucking taste it?

Now bleed in chorus
With that which supposedly repulsed you

Check the reflect-shun away from what you’ve become

Tangle to suffocation in this web you’ve woven

Fucking maggot

Now seep into the pavement

With this salt I taste on my tongue

ⓒ 2000 Shawn Michael Quinn

Prick, Philly Party / Zine

"well it takes guts to get up

every morning, again and again

alarming

it takes thought process

and time to do everything we do in a day to make it to the next to wake up and do it again

it takes guts to dare, to dream, to get naked in front of your mirror and sing to led zeppelin

it takes effort to breathe and be

exist and sleep

guts to glory

guts for breakfast"

"I SAW A BOY ON A BIKE CURSING DRIVERS

ARMS EXTENDED STARK

PLEDGING HIS ALLEGIANCE AND DISGUST

TO AN ENTIRE GROUP OF RUSH HOUR TRAVELERS,

TWO MIDDLE FINGERS FULLY ERECTED

FAILING HIGH IN THE SKY

(CITY HALL AS THE BACKDROP)

DOWN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD

IN THE MIDDLE OF RUSH HOUR

I WAS INSPIRED.

THAT WAS LAST WEEK."

~Jennie Tagle

Catalyst

I can see them growing

These feathers so white and gold

They shine like your eyes do now

You can taste the sun on your back

And the wind in your face

You fly free

You’ve tasted what it means to be

Call me the catapult of

A beauty you once dreamt of

Helped you to believe in the possibility

And I watch you from this distance

Another way for me

To step back and see

New beauty

If nothing else

I’ve enjoyed the chance to witness

Murder’s motives of innocence

These doors now opened

These wings now stretched out wide

This catalyst a witness to

This beauty you’ve grown into

Now never look back

Never apologize

Fly, fly away

It’s ok

Away from me

ⓒ 2000 Shawn Michael Quinn

Call It Me

"Tonight... I feel like, more..."

Like a sponge, ready to absorb
To saturate each of my senses
With life, with love
To share, to give and to receive
To overflow
To swim, to weep, to bleed
To sweat, to drown
And to freeze
To know it all
Is this greed?
Is this life?
Is this a contradiction?
The many faces of God
To not know everything, but to feel it
This is what it means to be alive
To love, to express, to absorb

Taste this passion, taste this greed
Call it what you want
But call it me
I wont stop this love, this need
To live, to love, to see
To dream
To see the moon and the stars
To stare into the sun
Though it burns my eyes
But lets me feel what it feels to burn
To taste the air and take it with me
To feel the water
And know what it means to swim
And to drown
This passion, please let it never escape me
Hold true
Live, love, bleed, cry, and sing too
Shift your eyes out of focus
To see through
Bless me, torture me, bleed me
I will ingest it all
"I wont stop following you"
Not what it means to know
But what it means to feel
To overflow

Kiss The Strange

I saw this annoying bird
Stare at me again this morn
He looked right into my eyes
And told me again
What life will soon begin

I remembered the time they screamed aloud
Hundreds like him, circling around
They were there for me
So no way could I ignore
And I watched them in awe
Questioning what could be the cause
Only now I realize, they opened a door

So I saw this bird this morn
I questioned again what gifts he held for me
Change, beautiful change

Coming

Black as night, immovable eyes
Indifferent to my questioning why
This bird flies with nothing to fear
No predators, no enemies, no pleas to hear
Symbols of the universe, of constant change
Blessed to those who embrace it
To kiss the strange

Are your lessons done?

"How the hell did we get here? ..That's what I thought, this is all just an accident."

"I couldn't take the odor in there. We all smell like our parents. We smell like death."

"11 grand, that's my monthly nut, mortgage, private school, cars, insurance, vacation, entertainment, help. I'm covering my nut, but the prospect of covering it for the next 10 years does not inspire me to get out of bed in the morning. We are standing on a huge mountain of crap that used to be our future. [reply] Its best not to look down. [reply] Sink slowly up to the eyeballs, blink once, and call it a life."

"I was flirting to amuse myself." [reply] "Well I don't find it amusing." [reply] "Maybe you should flirt then." [reply] "Why, so you can score some extra points when everyone sees how confident you are because your wife's flirting is harmless, unlike yours? Nice try!"

"I am so fucking sick of getting a lump in my throat from listening to 25 year old music. Let's make some new music. [reply] "What was it like, the hospital, you never told me?" [reply] "Very quiet, like those buddhist monasteries you used to read about. Or maybe it was the tranquilizers, I could never really tell. Who knows, you might enjoy it there..."

"Its not about things, I'm trying to explore my own [mind] and you can only do that through experience. Experience is completely pre-packaged for us, everything ever known, from Richtenstein to Muddy Waters to the tombs of the Pharoahs, is instantly accessible online. Isn't that the glory of the information age? We've become information hunters and gatherers, and we keep gorging ourselves until we collapse under the weight of our own heads."

"It's ironic, isn't it, that men are the ones with no certainty left? Women, on the other hand, are so deluded by the canons of pop sociology, it's like scripture for them, prescribing the path to the perfect life, how it all should be, its absolute rubbish."

"He deeply understands the Buddha's observation that all is suffering. He's a man, like us, drinks enormous amounts of saki, pain goes away, for a while. We are all trying to make paradise, why? What is it about this human life that is so unbearable that we try anything to make it better, including saki? Of course we must give it up. Without giving up, paradise is always something separate from us. But it takes great effort to keep that in mind, so, you must try harder."

Jeff: "You're a dirty old monk."

Kozen: "This dress only hides the hard-on, it doesn't make it go away. Since Adam, man has tried everything to answer the woman problem, veiling them from head to foot, celibacy, rushing off to war, yet some problems have no solutions, they just point to the basic problem."

Jeff: "God, I hate this zen shit"

Kozen: "Me too."

Jeff: "My whole life I spent chasing women.. I should have been chasing God."

Kozen: "An equally fruitless task. He's not out there playing hide and seek. We have to experience for ourselves the true nature of things, and for guys like us, it's a hell of a search."

Marty: "We were never free, were we?"

Jeff: "Not for two seconds"

Marty: "We are so fucked up we can't even delude ourselves anymore.."

Kozen: "I too was looking forward to paradise, nice dry spot for rainy season. Now I have to go back to the monastery, bad food, cold.."

Jeff: "Sounds delightful.."

Kozen: "Sometimes it is delightful."

Jeff: "Cut the crap Kozen, how exactly is it delightful?"

Kozen: "Sitting in the meditation hall, for a second or two, the veil lifts, this unexpected sweetness of no coming and no going, and all this dissolves into a single activity of the cosmos, beyond hope, beyond despair, and for an instant, we're not separate from this activity of the cosmos, we manifest our true nature. Everything else is just an idea that doesn't work. Does it, friends? You should come with me."

"There is no 'way.' Don't make the monastery into another dream of paradise. Its just a nice place. But your own true nature, your buddha nature, is inside you. Whether you realize it or not. How you realize it is up to you. Thank you both for my ticket. I am excited to fly first class. If I see either of you on the plane, it will be nice. If not, I do not like goodbyes, so I will simply say, have splendid lives."

"No woman's gonna save me. And no tower to the sky is gonna save you. It's time to act like men for Christ's sake."

Afera

Sunken words leave me lying here

Leave me alone, alone with fear

Energy slips in and out like the ocean's tide

I lose faith, I lose heart

I dream, love, dance, and smile

And nothing compares

A kiss from heaven gives me hope

The softest lips, the sweetest caress

. . . I dream again

You, this perfect symbol of my greed

Tease me, unknowingly

. . . I dive again

So this is what they call life

But I call it by another name

Summer is gone, and still I smile

This cool air calms my heart

I stop racing, stop striving, stop the greed

Now I call you by name

But still, I can't read your eyes

It's always the flower that causes my sneeze

My heart stops for a moment

And again I become my need

Why are you so weird, boy?

When

Hello, I've waited here for you, everlong

Tonight, I throw myself into

And out of the red, out of her head, she sang

Come down and waste away with me, down with me

Slow, how you wanted it to be

I'm over my head, out of her head, she sang

And I wonder when I sing along with you

If everything could ever be this real forever

If anything could ever be this good again

The only thing I'll ever ask of you

You've got to promise not to stop when I say when

She sang

Breathe out, so I can breathe you in, hold you in

And now I know you've always been

Out of your head, out of my head, I sang

And I wonder when I sing along with you

If everything could ever feel this real forever

If anything could ever be this good again

The only thing I'll ever ask of you

You've got to promise not to stop when I say when

She sang

And I wonder If everything could ever feel this real forever

If anything could ever be this good again

The only thing I'll ever ask of you

You've got to promise not to stop when I say when

Anangi

Blessings assured, waiting patiently

You come to me once in a dream

I live it the same

I'll wait for you..

Just sit here and wait for you

Forever

What else do I have?

Need to possess

Need to hold onto something more

Need you

Live you

Taste you

Smell you

Breathe you

I am no more than this

You are all there is

Hold me again and this time forever, swear it

No more perfect mistakes

No more careless excuses

We are no longer blind to this truth

We are together and belong together

Here we lie, separate

Yet we still remain as one

You can't deny, inside the lies we try to hide

Time is not linear, I try to remember

Waiting patiently

With nowhere else to go

I'll wait here forever

I have no choice

Unravel

Hidden truths, we look for the reasons why

What we find are only questions, no answers

The answers create insanity, and loss of hope

Inescapable feelings, indifference, lack of ambition

And no way to be driven

Imagination, the key to manifestation

Create love, create drama, create pain

Create emotion, create thought, create the mind

Look inside to find what’s within behind

Nothing exists save this constant consciousness

The outer shell and windows within

Plug in plug out of this world of your own

Nothing to do, nothing to say

Which reality is true anyway?

Time nonexistent, only in blocks of experience

Dress me up in life’s fancies

Dreams more real than this constant insanity

Can’t blow it away with nowhere to go

This linear time moving slow

In the waiting, pain exhilarating

Patience comes when consciousness witnessed

Life is blessed, and real only in myths

Dream a choice manifest the best

Daily lives convert this nothingness

Dimension to dimension we carry hopes

Live again while laughing within

God himself only aware of that which is

That which isn’t becomes tomorrows dream

A new reason to smile

A new reason to cry

How we love these worlds in lies

Cosmic riddles shown deep in eyes

Death, depth, depressed, deep rest

Swallow the water and forget the trust

Make it real make it true

There is absolutely nothing else to do

Your own true essence smiling above you

Unravel it and create something beautiful anew

ⓒ 2000 Shawn Michael Quinn

Windows

The Mantle

At one stage the gods decided to shackle the unruly wolf Fenris, but the beast broke every chain they put upon him. Eventually they had the dwarves make them a magical ribbon called Gleipnir. It appeared to be only a silken ribbon but was made of six wondrous ingredients: the sound of a cat's footfall, the beard of a woman, the roots of a mountain, bear's sinews (meaning nerves, sensibility), fish's breath and bird's spittle (the creation of Gleipnir is said to be the reason why none of the above exist). Fenris sensed the gods' deceit and refused to be bound with it unless one of them put his hand in the wolf's mouth. Týr, known for his great wisdom and courage, agreed, and the other gods bound the wolf. After Fenris had been bound by the gods, he struggled to try to break the rope. Fenris could not break the ribbon and enraged, bit Týr's hand off. When the gods saw that Fenris was bound, they all rejoiced, except Týr.. As a result of this deed, Týr is called the "Leavings of the Wolf"; which is to be understood as a poetic kenning for glory.

Týr is the Rune of courage, balance, and justice, ruled from a higher rationality, also the rune of sacrifice of the individual (self) for well-being of the whole (society). Tiwaz is 'just victory' according to the law of accumulated right past action. To rule justly, one is asked to make many self-sacrifices, and Tiwaz can develop the power of positive self-sacrifice and temper over-sacrifice. The belief that 'courage and a right cause carries the day' is governed by Tiwaz. It is the common justice of the people rather than the use of law by tyrants (a word that uses Tyr as a root).

Psi: spiritual warrior, honour, righteousness
Energy: sovereign order, sacrifice, right decision making
Mundane: the rule of law, fairness, peace keeping

Divinations: faith, loyalty, justice, rationality, self-sacrifice, analysis, victory, honesty, even-handedness. ...Or mental paralysis, over analysis, over-sacrifice, injustice, imbalance, defeat, tyranny.

Governs:
Obtaining just victory and success in battle, litigation or legal matters
Building spiritual will and development of sound judgement
Develops the power of positive self-sacrifice
Develops the “force of faith” in magic and religion

Your Passenger..

Here I lay, still and breathless

Just like always, still I want some more

Mirrors sideways, who cares what's behind..

Just like always, still your passenger

Chrome buttons, buckles, and leather surfaces

These and other lucky witnesses

Now to calm me, this time won't you please ...drive faster

Roll the window down, this cool night air is curious

Let the whole world look in, who cares who sees anything

I'm your passenger, I'm your passenger

Drop these down then put them on me

Nice cool seats there to cushion your knees

Now to calm me, take me around again, don't pull over

This time won't you please ..drive faster

Roll the window down, this cool night air is curious

Let the whole world look in, who cares who sees what tonight

Roll these misty windows down to catch my breath

And then go, and go, and go, just drive me home and back again

Here I lay, just like always, don't let me go

Go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go, take me to the edge

1st In Flight

The Parrot

Satan is a parrot

On the shoulder of God

Let evil die with your answers

Breeding

Breeding games so often played
Objective to dominate the same
Lies in, lies out, and outward in
Premeditating, over-contemplating, building skin
Outside the circle creating anew
Unaware of what's pushing through
Hiding, lying, denying, trying to make
Self-made conditions out of mistakes
Belief a word so unconscious to
Murderous ways this faith untrue
Blindness, security, comfortable life
Walking days, the death disguised
Nothing true or sacred, nothing whole
Pieces and fragments of an empty soul
Shame the excuse for a life un-lived
Religion of fear masked as bliss
Sin, ignorance, rape, decay and love
Dream one day there would be enough
Hiding from beauty, running from light
How many ways can we steal the days
Burn the witches, destroy the gods
Crown and crucify, innocence of the child
Make a life from endless words
Kill any truth you may have heard
Lie with eyes that deceive yourself
Live a life so full of no one else
Betray anything you ever loved
Believe you could rise above
Rape the one who gave you life
Rape the sun and her light
Burn the ears of those who hear truth
Live to make them just like you
Destroy the spirits of saints and children
Destroy their beliefs in hell and heaven
Manipulate truth with weight of lies
Become all that you have despised
Make this world a reflection of you
Know its what you dreamt to do, then make it true
I spit blood at your ignorance, and pity your life
When its come to this, in me, there is no right
You can never take my power to see
You can not have my faith or my will to be
Flight is mine and for all who believe
What I want, and what I need will always be free

Home

I dreamt I died today
I threw my guts up
I shat all over myself
I smiled at the thought
If nothing ever was
And nothing is
If I was free
If I was boundless
If the world could see
To give weight
To you and your dreams
To know this world
is not what it seems

Bless me, father and son
Show me what I have become
Show me more, show me the all
Let me absorb it
Let me breathe it and live it
Most of all, let me experience it
Give me the power; not to dream
But to become my dreams
Let me be, nothing
Nothing less, nothing more
Nothing above or beyond
Anything I can dream
But to it, unbound
For I am free, and always will be
These are things that cannot be
Taken from me

Sweet soul, you will always be free
You are the light
And you are the way
And all will follow you
Sooner or later
There is nowhere else to go
Nowhere else, but love
Nowhere else, but home

ⓒ 2000 Shawn Michael Quinn

Priests

All the priests are dead
What you knew to be your body
Has been burned to ash
Everyone you knew is now dead
Or never existed at all
You are nothing
You were nothing
You know everything is in your head
Each wall was created to fall
Each door to be opened
Each picture to be admired
Each experience to be turned to
Passion
All appreciated
But you mourn what was lost
You fear this lack of security
You try to make plans
You try to stand firm
But now you break easier
Your ego crumbles
You fear you've lost more
And you ask "when will it end?"
Then you realize
That it wont
Freedom frightens you
Power overwhelms you
You have only where you are to go
the questions increase
The answers bring more questions
Distractions for the first time
Offer no relief or release
The mind starts to open
With the loss of pride
Pride the shirt that no longer fits
Widening the scopes
Feeding on the energy
No longer held by the mind's limits
In comes humility, acceptance
Love, vision, and ..contradictions
You are no longer afraid
You realize there is nothing to fear
A life not tasted
is a life wasted
The wise taste all things
And find it all part of them
As they are part of it
Contradictions collapse
And only one thing remains
Everything
And nothing
And this is no contradictions
This is what you are
Do you feel connected?

The priests are dead
Because they cannot serve you anymore
And you wouldn't dream of serving them
Nor anyone else for that matter
And matter is the clay
From which you now create
The surroundings in your life
Your life itself
All life is now created by you
The gift of consciousness
The connected, blessed...
Believe..

Please

This is how it begins

Push it away, but it all comes back again

All the flesh, all the sin

There was a time when it used to mean just about ..everything

Just like now... just like now

Breathe.. echoing the sound

Time starts slowing down

Sink until I drown

Please

I don't ever want to make it stop

And it keeps repeating

Will you please complete me?

Never be enough, to fill me up

Watch the white (never be enough to fill me up)

Turn to red (never be enough to fill me up)

It fills up the hole but it grows somewhere else instead

(Never be enough to fill me up)

All my life, yeah yeah yeah yeah

But it just left me dead (Well guess what?)

The world is over and I realize it was all in my head

Now everything is clear

I erase the fear (I erase the fear)

I can disappear (I can disappear)

Please, I don't ever want to make it stop

You can never leave me

Will you please complete me

Never be enough, to fill me up

Contradictions Collapse

The concepts of death, too shallow to grieve
And depth becomes too deep to breathe
When the loss of life is more tragic than death
The distractions disappear
Free from the weight of fear
Contradictions collapse
God, Satan, and all inbetween
Only concepts of the mind
Awaken to what you are
Free, infinite, pure, Divine

ⓒ 2000 Shawn Michael Quinn

In The All

Enduring, one by one
I empty them all
Clearing the debris
Hollowing the soul
In nothingness
I feel all that I am
all that is me
The oceans within
The things you call you
The things we own
The people we name loved
The things we do
Prove nothing but time
The soul wont be defined
I wont be defined
All that you see is but a glimpse of me
The soul knows only what's free
We go in and out, from stage to stage
We fill in the hole
with decorations (to be explained)
We live and
Gloat
Whether it be possession
or Personality
In a moment, I sink low
And start to see
That none of it
was Me
And so I throw it all away
And sell myself poverty
I look around to see nothing
And know that it is me
Confidence comes
through Nothingness
When we have nothing
We have nothing to lose
We learn fast that we are free
We grow strong again
And pull in that we see
Which resembles the me
Slowly we forget
and turn it to greed
The circle completes
And evolution agrees
I've been stripping the layers
Of this dead skin, turning dust
I've been hollowing out the inside
Learning to trust
..In the nothingness
Seeking out the meaning
Of each moment
Opening myself to the opportunities
Trusting intuition when it comes
Letting go of the clinging needs
I want to know the truth
when I see it
I want to feel love
In everything
I want to see God
In every face
I want to hear the sound of my voice
Inspiring
Singing its truth
My truth
The truth
Even if its only me
Who can hear it
In the all
Is the blessing

Want

Plenty

I sat tonight reading the bible. I couldn't even get through the first section "Matthew." So much fear in it, so much preaching. If all of that was truly spoken by Jesus, I feel more pity for him than ever before. He was so forced to contradict himself just to show people truth, and freedom. So reduced to stories of fear as path to enlightenment. Could he have been so ahead of his time that he was unable to speak his mind without parables? Even those closest to him could not begin to understand him. He abandoned his own family, and still, all of them, made him a God, betraying him. Judas, probably the only one who may have been able to somewhat understand him, is forever labeled as the one who betrayed him. Could Judas be the only one who did not actually betray him? Who Knows.. One thing is true, Jesus truly suffered possibly more than anyone in history, for our sake. And still, 2000 years later, is understood by so few. All the priests, popes, bishops, and holyrollers, throughout history and today, who swear they understand Jesus most likely still have only a spark of the understanding he had. Even me, as I sit here pondering these questions, thinking that I see light through all this fear and darkness, am unable to do the things he Jesus did. I am no less man or God than he was, but I still am yet to be able bring forth such light unto myself, much less the whole world. The human race has quite a long way to go before we will be able to truly live the life Jesus lived. Blessed we are to have him as a picture of what we will one day become. Thank you!

I picture thousands of years in one insight. The molding and shaping of the world and the consciousness of its people over the course of time to the way things could be "on earth as they are in heaven." How slowly time progresses.. What a long way we have to go as a people. I know everything happens for a reason and all things are the only way they could be right now, but it has this overwhelming power to sadden me. I pity myself and this world that we cannot all at once snap out of this bullshit and move ourselves to heaven, and live in peace. Self-pity is not good, I know this even as I indulge in it, but why can we not just snap out of it? Patience, I suppose needs to be cultivated in me. As I have enjoyed saying so often recently, I guess I should recite it to myself, "when God created time, he made plenty of it, so what's the hurry? Enjoy each and every now that is present." Maybe if I say that a million times in my head, it might sink in. I suppose I have the time, right?

All of this is blessed, all of it!

This

Dirty, unsure, human
Never that I can remember
Have I felt this human
I feel real
This pain
Confined in my own body
Without escape
No bath nor shower could clean me
No relief
No release
Existence is absolute
There is nothing else
I feel entirely real
A part of all of this
I imagine my decrepit body
Turned to dust
And blended with the earth
Fertilizer
To give life again
And again
I am all of this
I am all of it
Nothing without me
Me without nothing
The demon and angel
Combined
Divine
Mind, body, heart, and soul
Clean or unclean
I am this
It matters not what conditions define the day
Continuous
Ever continuing
Define and redefine
All of this babbling
Is my sanity
Whatever that means
The glue that barely
Holds me together
I
Am
This

ⓒ 2000 Shawn Michael Quinn

In my head..

You know I'm not dead

You know I'm, you know I'm not dead

You know I'm not dead

Now you know where I've been

As you sleep, torn I am

Weighted down, patiently

Born of love

You know I'm, you know I'm not dead

I'm just living in my head

Forever waiting

On the ways of your desire

You always find a way

And through it all

Into us all, you move

Forgotten touch, forbidden thought

We can never have enough

You know I'm not dead

You know I'm, you know I'm not dead

You know I'm not dead

Found below, he creatures scream

Stranglehold, a God machine

Begging to tear us out

Worn as hope

You know I'm, you know I'm not dead

I'm just the tears inside your head

Forever waiting on the ways of your desire

You always find your way

And through it all, into us all you move

Forgotten touch, forbidden thought

We can never have enough

You know I'm not dead

We all want to hold in the Everlasting Gaze

Enchanted in the rapture of his sentimental sway

But underneath the wheels lie the skulls of every c.o.g.

The fickle fascination of an everlasting God

You know I'm not dead, I'm just living in my head

Forever waiting, forever waiting a cruel death

You know I'm not dead, I'm just living for myself

Forever waiting

You know I'm not dead

Like Rocks In Riots

And you're like a '90s Jesus

And you revel in your psychosis, how dare you?

And you sample concepts like hors d'oeuvres

And you eat their questions for dessert

And is it just me or is it hot in here?

And you're like a '90s Kennedy

And you're really a million years old, you can't fool me

They'll throw opinions like rocks in riots

And they'll stumble around like hypocrites

Is it just me or is it dark in here?

You may never be or have a husband

You may never have or hold a child

You will learn to lose everything

We are temporary arrangements...

And you're like a '90s Noah

And they laughed at you as you packed all of your things

And they wonder why you're frustrated

And they wonder why you're so angry

And is it just me or are you fed up?

God bless you in your travels, in your conquests, and queries