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Month: July 2025

The World Doesn’t Need Conquering

You ever had that feeling when you wake up in the morning, full of energy and zest for living, rested in body and mind, ready to conquer the world? Not me. Well, at least not the “me” underlying the illusions of being we inherit at birth and continue to feed up to a certain point.

If it that WERE me, does the world need conquering? Does it want conquering? Why are even our initial waking existential notions so centered around the two towers of control and destruction? Conquer the world. Blow their minds. Blow them away. Rule the world. Take over. Beat the odds. Rock the house. Wow them. Bowl them over. Exactly who are we trying to impose hierarchical superiority on (or over, really)? Is all we want to imagine ourselves with the kind of blood-soaked, usurious, double-dealing, exploitative, imperialist nobility that makes the toils and troubles of this world mere notions, and the remainder of creation our tools and possessions?

The bottom line is this. Anytime we use an expression that involves the preposition “of the world” we have ventured into the swamps at the edge of La-La land. Pretend you comprehend the meaning of the expressions below, assuming that when you hear “of the world” you interpret it as “my world”, “the real world”, “the dream world”, “the next world”, “whole world”, “known world”, “our world”, and also the “unknown world”, because the world to its inhabitants always means at least one of these, simultaneously and often in conflict with each other.

Light of the world
Scourge of the world
Edge of the world
End of the world
Song of the world
Center of the world

Honestly, what business do you have “conquering” all of that?

24 JUL 2025

© 2025, John Litzenberg. All rights reserved.

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No More Martyrs

I don’t want to be your obsession.
I don’t want to be your life lesson.
I don’t want to be your physician.
I can’t be your last condition.

I don’t want to be your sole reason.
I don’t want to be your best season.
I don’t want to be your solution.
I won’t be your whole revolution.

I don’t want to be your creation.
I don’t want to be your sedation.
I don’t want to be your reflection.
I can’t be your friendly suggestion.

I don’t want to be your only choice.
I don’t want to be your master’s voice.
I don’t want to be your rival.
I can’t be your hope for survival.

I don’t want to be your obsession.
I don’t want to be your life lesson.
I don’t want to be your sweet nothing.
I won’t be your last chance at something.

24 Jul 2025

© 2025, John Litzenberg. All rights reserved.

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Salt Dolls in the Sea

Like Sri Ramakrishna quipped (or maybe “quipped” isn’t quite the right word), we’re all just salt dolls sent out to measure the depth of the ocean. And you don’t need to drink more than a spoonful to figure out the whole thing is salty. Good thing, too, since our little buckets don’t hold all that much water. No matter where we kneel on the shore and dip our bucket, no matter what we call it out there and then when it’s in our bucket, no matter what the shrines we build there look like and who we think is right enough to get in, we’re all drinking the same Kool-Aid, ultimately. When we drink from the source, that is. Anything else is like decaffeinated coffee – brown disappointment water. But what we do on the shore doesn’t really matter in the long run. Because once we get out into the sea, and I don’t mean just a pinky-toe at the edge of the surf, or a brief jump off the boat for a cooling swim, but when you’re out up to your chest and can just feel the sand under your toes. That’s when it happens. You start to melt. Your salt and the salt in the ocean aren’t separate salinities trapped in different decorative shakers. Together, you and the sea are the record player capable of playing a record that contains the frequencies to disintegrate the record player. You never get more than one chance to make a first (or last) impression. You’re traveling at the speed of now. Nothing to prove and all night long to do it in.

© 2025, John Litzenberg. All rights reserved.

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What It Is

What it is will never be what was.
What it will be is never what is.
What it was can never be what is.
What it is can never come to pass.
What it will be won’t become what was.
What it was is not what’s yet to come.
What it is cannot be what it is.
What it will be doesn’t know what was.
What it was is not what used to be.

What it is can only be what is.
What will be can only be what might.
What it was can only be what was.

What it is won’t ever be what might.
What will be won’t ever be what can’t.
What it was won’t ever be what didn’t.

What it is will never be what is.
What it is will never be what will.
What it is will never be what was.

What is now is all of what there is.
What is here is all there ever was.

15 JUL 2025

© 2025, John Litzenberg. All rights reserved.

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The Time Not Now: villanelle

The time not now will never come to pass.
What is born here today, this day will die.
All this that is was never built to last.

The past does not go slow, nor future fast,
yet both what is and was confuse the eye.
The time not now will never come to pass.

Enjoy this moment’s rich and full repast,
its laughter, tears, brief hours and gentle sighs.
All this that is was never built to last.

The flags for yesterday don’t fly half mast,
nor need us wringing hands with woeful cries.
The time not now will never come to pass.

There is no back and forth, the die is cast.
What you know now is all you’ll realize.
All this that is was never built to last.

There just time to focus on this task,
not what waits in your wheelhouse by-and-by.
All this that is was never built to last.
The time not now will never come to pass.

14 Jul 2025

© 2025, John Litzenberg. All rights reserved.

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Celebrity Nobody

I don’t need to hang your poster.
You don’t need to worship mine.
I don’t need to have your autograph.
If you ask for mine, I won’t sign.
I don’t need your attaboy,
and you sure don’t ask for mine.
I don’t need my name in lights,
nor plastered on your picket signs.
I don’t need your plastic smiles
or superficial hugs.
I don’t need protection from
your loving, mindless thugs.
I don’t need to think you love me.
You don’t want my affection.
I don’t need you to approve me,
any more than your rejection.
I don’t need your picture in a frame.
We’re both too old to play that game.
I don’t need you telling me
inside we’re both the same.
I don’t need to share my secrets.
You don’t tell me yours.
I don’t need your vital essence
to keep my future visions pure.

I don’t need to tell you this.
You don’t even care.
I don’t need to say a thing.
You’re not really there.

11 JUL 2025

© 2025, John Litzenberg. All rights reserved.

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What You See: triolet

What you see is what you get.
Be careful since the eyes can lie –
a simple truth we often can forget:
what you see is what you get,
and once you’ve got it, you’re in debt
to those who’ve shown you what to buy.
What you see is what you get.
Be careful, since the eyes can lie.

You may not get what you deserve.
There is no fair exchange on high,
no sacred balance to preserve.
You may not get what you deserve.
The masters change, the source may swerve,
but we all live, and serve, and die.
You may not get what you deserve.
There is no fair exchange on high.

The only time you have is now.
There is no past or future tense
to look for or work through, somehow.
The only time you have is now,
and in this moment is allowed
the brief chance to experience
the only time you have is now.
There is no past or future tense.

11 JUL 2025

© 2025, John Litzenberg. All rights reserved.

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