Anybody’s Anything: droighneach

Nothing that is temporary becomes infinite;
each thing’s just a project. It starts and it finishes,
simply an effect of a cause, made of composites
that wax and wane. Being comes and then diminishes.

Everything is empty – it is not separated
although it seems to be neatly subdivided.
It is only by illusions it is frustrated;
in that shadow state nothing feels it is united.

Anything that’s trapped in time’s grip stays motionless;
it is not really living, merely an appearance.
A thing grows to another thing, not quite motiveless,
but only what whole contains it maintains coherence.

Something doesn’t come into being from emptiness;
our busy minds create those lines of separation.
While we glorify our own sense of great sentience,
the world is otherwise engaged in all creation.

20 MAY 2025

© 2025, John Litzenberg. All rights reserved.

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Here and Back Again

Sometimes it’s funny the way the world looks different when you learn a new thing or catch a strange foreign film or think at least to yourself that you’ve come up with an idea, the result of figuring out exactly why the world thinks and acts like it does, what it did differently yesterday, and what it’s likely to slowly shift into doing for real some time early tomorrow afternoon.

For example, when you hear an expression like “you can’t get there from here” and realize it’s not about physical geography or Cartesian geometry or directions read from a greasy Texaco road map you borrowed from a guy in a diner who reminded you of somebody you probably (and unfortunately) owe some money.

No, the “here” in the expression isn’t about space. It’s about time. That makes it less like an artist’s Atlas rendering of hundreds of points all leading to a fictional made-up place like the center of the universe like Camelot, Rome, Dallas-Fort Worth (where you have to change planes, whether your final destination is heaven or hell), or your favorite cultural center catering almost exclusively to your organic, all-natural, and ultimately despicable sense of good taste.

No, the map doesn’t point to a place. “Here” is right here. Right in this exact spot. There is no other it, except this It. It is right now. It isn’t and will never be anywhere or anytime or anything or anybody else.

You can’t get there from here. It’s a lie. And yet, it is not a lie.

Think of it like this: imagine you are right here. Right now. Fortunately that’s not very hard. In fact, you’re actually not capable of doing anything else. And you’ve been doing it all your life, so you know that it looks like.

That’s how the world actually works. We – and I use the term to clarify that I don’t mean just people who look like me, speak like me, act like me, like me, wanna be me or find a cave or institution or hole or some other place so dark, isolated, and empty that you can imagine that you are the seashell that sounds like the ocean to drop me in – I mean each one of us, no matter and probably in spite of how you use that word to exclude or include anything you deem worthy or appropriate or holy or special or magic or precious, animal, vegetable and/or mineral, whenever it suits you. We exist in a world where all you are really allowed to do, all you are required to do, maybe even a little compelled or driven to do, is what you can do better than anything else alive. At what you do, you are the absolute best at it.

First imagine what you think that talent or ability or natural inclination might be. Yeah, your unique thing that makes you a better you than anyone else could ever be. It’s pretty good, right? Something that’s probably even a little cool. If they didn’t each have their own unique thing, people – even relatives – would likely be a little jealous. Face it, you’re a pretty big deal when it comes to getting it done.

Better make sure that skill you’ve got isn’t failure. Although a lot of other people might tell you that’s all you’re good at. And besides, if you’re an absolute whiz at failure, that’s not failing. Or Failure.

Because you can’t there from here, no matter what you do.

Sri Ramakrishna said, “If you get drunk off a single bottle of wine, what do you care how much of other spirits the store carries?”

You are here. You can’t be anywhere else. There is no there.

18 May 2025

© 2025, John Litzenberg. All rights reserved.

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The Tipping Point

We reached the tipping point
when male pattern baldness
and erectile dysfunction
became more important
than curing cancer
or infant mortality.
When all the television shows
about poor people
in situation dramedies
were replaced by “reality” programs
about the hard lives
of people born or married
to wealth and power.

We’re obviously not a culture
that values wisdom:
our elderly are packed off
to nursing homes
or left to dodder around
the halls of congress
with their mighty hard-ons
and full heads of hair.
No one’s passing on their knowledge,
hoping their children
or children’s children
will learn how to run the world
better.

We use our money
to build prisons and graveyards,
then refuse to throw
the folks who belong there
into these investments.

We practicing not letting go:
keeping up with the Joneses
dying with the most toys
while the rest of the world
starves to death.

15 MAY 2025

© 2025, John Litzenberg. All rights reserved.

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Mr. and Mrs. John Q: double dactyl

Higgledy-piggledy
Public, John Q.
voted for this mess and
gave it no thought:

just what would happen
when truth lost its way
and no ticket back
could be bought.

Higgledy-piggledy,
Mrs. Q. Public
regurgitated her
poor husband’s pablum,

cut off her nose and
destroyed her good looks;
that’s what you get
when you don’t read books.

Higgledy-piggledy
Mr. and Mrs.
bought all the lies they were told,
and elected

a king and a savior,
to keep them from thinking
they needed integrity
to be respected.

14 MAY 2025

© 2025, John Litzenberg. All rights reserved.

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What Urgency: descort

What’s so urgent
all of a sudden?
It’s not like the world woke up yesterday
as a hot mess,
broken into tiny fractions
by some new denominator.

Where have you been?
Wake up and smell the coffee;
some of us been drinking a pot a day
since Reaganomics
trickled down from the septic tank
on our teenage heads.
Some even longer.

My grandpa had a book titled
“The Antichrist in Rome”
in a worn leather cover from before the depression.
Was he born in 1900 already woke,
or just poor, orphaned, son of a drunk fiddler
who toured the Great Lakes
looking for the sporting life?
Who knows.

What has changed since then?
Not much,
if we’re “being honest.”

Illusions come and go. Some die harder than others.
My second generation immigrant self
was chewing out of its
cocoon
before the last election.

13 MAY 2025

© 2025, John Litzenberg. All rights reserved.

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Score None for Everyone: deibhidhe

When kingdoms fall, what is left
besides the dead and bereft?
War leaves all wounded and poor –
most more wretched than before.

Who cares how right the victors,
their flags, displayed in pictures,
atop the now rotting crop
of those stopped. In the bookshops,

pundits from the winning side
boost sales, playing on our pride:
we’ve won and evil is done!
The score: none for everyone.

13 MAY 2025

© 2025, John Litzenberg. All rights reserved.

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The Way of Not Alone: cywydd llosgyrnog

The way is not so wild and free
that you walk independently
or win victory alone.
You may travel without a clue
of who or what walks next to you,
there through all that you have known.

You cannot split yourself away –
when other leaves, you cannot stay.
Life plays and grows between you.
Each breath keeps both of you alive
from birth to death. The whole survives;
it thrives, if you mean it to.

12 MAY 2025

© 2025, John Litzenberg. All rights reserved.

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