The Drawing of Lines
There’s a line drawn.
On this side is insects and plants and animals
and men. This side is alive.
The other side is dead.

There’s a line drawn.
On this side is insects, birds and animals and men.
This side is alive.
The other side is technically alive.
But you can’t hear it scream when you tear a branch.
There’s a line drawn.
On this side is man and woman and child,
they can think and feel
On the other side is erchi varathodu and salad
There’s a line drawn
Here’s Amma, Appi, Tubs, Tlee, Celu and me.
On the other side is stinking humanity, dumb animals
Technically alive plants and the dead universe.
There’s a line drawn.
Here’s me.
And there’s blobs of color, sound, touch, smell and flavor.
There’s a line drawn.
On this side are people who say the lines are wrong and must be erased.
On that side are people who say the lines are precious and real.
There’s a line drawn.
And as all know and can see it’s on paper.
And the same paper is on both sides of the line.
And the paper longs for lines.
And the lines long for shapes.
And shapes turn into this and that.
This could be an artist.
That could be a drawing book.
There’s a line drawn
From the ink of your being
Here it forms a bird, there a woman,
there a leaf, there a star.
You can look at it from this side
where it forms a picture.
Or you can look at it from the other side
where it is blank.
You can frame the picture
and hang it on the wall,
but first you must draw in the wall.

Weave of Life
I weave a tapestry.
It has a house.
It has you.
It has me.
It has the pomegranate tree.
It has a child.
I weave a door into the tapestry. It is death
I weave a window. It is dreams.
I can look out of the window.
I can walk out of the door.
I hammer nails into the house in the tapestry.
I hang paintings on the walls. In this painting I am an artist.
I draw a staircase to the stars.
In another painting there is a woman she is me.
There you are the man.
I stand in front of a painting
that shows an artist standing in front of the painting
with a staircase to the stars,
a man is climbing it - it has the artist's face.
I put up another painting - it has a man and a woman
and they ask - how can we get out of the painting?
I put up another painting by you.
It shows us making love in the grass. Stars are about us.
In the paintings, the pomegranates are sweet.
In one painting the artist reaches
into the painting of a house with a pomegranate tree
and eats a pomegranate - the hand drawn is just like mine.
You are there in the picture.
Our child is playing with a kite.
Some birds are flying in and out of the picture.
You look at this picture and say
it is too complicated.
In the tapestry is a house
with you & me and our child eating oranges.
There is a sun.
In the house is a painting.
In that painting is you & me in bed.
We have made love you. You are sleeping.
In the painting I am a poet writing in a book -
you can see a few words -
the first line says "I weave a tapestry..."
Thoughts x God} to the power of 6
1)
Thought creates reality.
Reality confirms thought.
Tail follows dog.
2)
Thought & Reality hand in hand.
2 friends stroll. Who's first? Big deal.
3)
Reality pushes to be born.
Thought comes so, reality may be born.
Reality wails.
Thought rejoices.
Horn first-car behind.
4)
Thought births reality.
Reality births thoughts.
Dog chases tail.
5)
Thought moves. All that is follows.
Reality happens.
It's got an ugly face and bawls.
Who picks it up?
Everyone disclaims responsibility.
Child cries.
God's like a man, goes to work.

Doorways to the infinite.
1. We are doorways to the infinite.
2. We are doorways that the infinite uses.
3. Sometimes when the infinite steps through us it gets stuck.
4. Sometimes when we step out, you realise it isn't a doorway but a window.
5. Infinite freedoms. Infinite Dangers.
If u know this will you still step out?