Wondering

in all of the walks of
Seemingly endless days
Always ending,
This beginningless
endless
blossom
makes itself known
in the secret chamber of my Heart.
I wonder if you too
are becoming intoxicated on
its fragrance.

Scott Patrick Schwenk    4/12/12

Gaia's Overdose

 
Track marks up and down
Arms and legs
Trailed with our
Cast away past
The wrappers telling time
Strata of unmet needs
Straddling broken pipe dreams.


You and I aren't that
different Mama,
we're really just the same
in the bright fast car
gaining speed
in no one's name.
I can't take this pace
this drive for speed
I'm crashing over and over
doing it again
calling it a creed.


Your blood is so
translucent Mama
phosphorescent glow
winter morning pills popped
oozing through rivers
surging spring melt flow.


Needles stacked
Pickup sticks
Art without a show.
Strewn down stretching shores
Confetti for post-modern stage


Are you throwing me off your back
Mama
was it something that I've said?
Seismic fits and coughs
rattling the cage
the matrix with its deep red tear
ripping through carotid arteries of trade
a whole new signal to the brain.


You and I aren't that
different Mama,
we're really just the same
in the bright fast car
gaining speed
in no one's name.
I can't take this pace
this drive for speed
I'm crashing over and over
doing it again
calling it a creed.


You're clearly on a bender Mama
wracking in the pain
We're in the same fast car
Dying in no one's name.







All rights reserved 2011 ~ Scott Patrick Schwenk

Mortal Coil (POEM)

Luminosity of cobalt

Weaving through the realm

My cells pulsing

With Your fragrance

Humming

Gravity

Instinctively drawn

Within

A breath releases

All and everything

From the grasp of separation

As a new door inaugurates

It’s first door-hinge creak

Swinging open to mark

An entrance and

An exit

From and to

What does not change.

The blessing of timeless wonder

The blaze of azure

Consuming change

Revealing

Voiceless voice

Infinite echo

A swirling dance of Your name.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED  2011  Scott Patrick Schwenk 4/15/2011

Returning (POEM)

A spiral staircase,

A cozy nook,

Seeking happiness

In yet another book

Veils come down

A parting of the mists

The Avalon you seek

Always in your midst

The central channel throbs

Inviting you deep within

Humming

Pulsing

Dispersing all the din

Find your seat

Ride the breath

Sing the Name

Coursing through your veins

The nameless Name

Wordless Word

Felt

Unspeakable Silence

Full Summer Moon

At the trailhead

Of your weathered fingertips

Ganges

Galilee

Ride the breath

Find your seat

Sing the Name

Sink and be dissolved

In Her timeless mystery.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED  2011  Scott Patrick Schwenk 3/31/11

A Thousand Beatiful Swords (POEM)

A thousand beautiful swords

Gleaming and graced,

How will you wield them

Will you deform your own face?

If your face be near

As well as far

Every stranger a looking glass

To see and heal

All your ancient scars.

A thousand beautiful swords

Full of strength and might

How will you wield them

To ravage another’s sight?

The brother’s eye you seek to

Pluck,

My dear one,

It is your own.

All this world’s

A hall of mirrors

No other faces,

Always your own.

Drink deep this elixir

Contained within my words

Let it reach every sinew

Every fiber

Every nerve,

Let it heal you of your afflictions

Your sorrow and your pain

Your oft regarded memories

So twisted, distorted, stained.

The fable writer lives amongst you

In your very house

Always crafting

Scheming

Have you feeling less than, scorned.

Drink deep this balm of Gilead

Let it lift your gaze

To the One who is eternal

Birthless, Deathless

Never on display.

These shops and stores

Catering to your tastes

Never quenching deep your seeking

Distractions for your pain.

Drink deep this clean elixir

Shake off your mortal coil

Come alive as Spirit

Amongst your brethren

And their toil.

You hold the light you seek

Dear One,

It’s never in another’s cave

It’s time to see the mirror clearly

Returning, free, unscathed.

There is no battle to be won

No flag that need be raised.

Your Holy Oaths

Serve only to protect you

While walking through illusion

Remembering This Grace.

Put down your weapons Dear One,

Sit tall

Breathe deep

And turn within

All answers of your seeking

Pulse bright along your veins

Be grateful I have told you

These words your soul lays bare.

Your faith is your protection

It’s drumbeat sings your Name.

The trust you hone

Will lead you home

Cleanse all the splinters

Beams and motes

From your downward gaze.

Join me on this journey

Dance o’er the quicksands

Lifted in your stage

You’re ready for this

Great emancipation

You never were a slave.

Freedom lives within you

Dear One,

And long before your grave,

If you choose it deeply

And walk it in my Name.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 2011  Scott Patrick Schwenk  3/30/2011

Maya's Weave (POEM)

Rolling dice

In Maya’s weave

A cinematic

Pixelated

Variegated

Chutes and Ladders,

Snakes and Ladders,

A rose by any other name,

She’ll meet you

Where you are

A perfect match

To occupy and

Satisfy.

As long as there is

A drive

A need

A thirst.

Yearning for more

Settling for less

Debting and debting and

Debting,

He forgets;

The light of a thousand Suns,

Endless Grace,

The True Face.

After countless

Climbs and slides

Some ancient

Memory arrives

Niggling

Twisting

Poking

Nudging you Alive.

Remember

Remember

Remember

She chides.

And vanishes once more,

Obscured by mind’s

Incessant absorption

On the surface of things.

Until you see

It’s you,

You see…

Shaping,

Forming

These infinite particles of light

Through words and

Sounds

Meanings lost and

Excitedly found.

Wheat-free

Breadcrumbs

Left behind

Shrapnel of trembling hands

Extensions of a Heart

Still questioning

As the tsunami of compassion

Tenderizes,

Breaks up the fascia

From centuries lived like Narcissus

Bent over

Fixated on the meaning in reflections,

Startled,

Jarred,

Shocked awake…

Back to the

Departure,

The trailhead

At the Center.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED  2011  Scott Patrick Schwenk 3/20/11

Evolution On The Head Of A Pin (Poem)

Evolution on the head of a pin,

Will it affect the world

With all of its spin

Racing up the spiral

To some imagined

Release from the chaos and grief of

An all-too temporary dance

On the head of this pin.

Let loose the hem,

Unstitch the control,

And let out the jib to

Catch this mighty wind

Whose only tack to

Lift my eye above to

See the vastness with which

I surround and hold

This swirling kaleidoscope

Formerly known as

The head of a pin.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 2011  Scott Patrick Schwenk  3/17/11

Can It Be Any Simpler (Poem)

Elegantly unfolding

Indwelt effusion

Luminous

In, through, and

As my Heart.

Your Infinite Smile

A radiance

Releasing all gravities.

Floating anchored

Untethered and fully yoked.

Is this your Grace or mine?

Our face has no name.

Can it be any simpler?

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 2011 Scott Patrick Schwenk 3/14/11

GRANDFATHER CLOCK (Poem)

As I reach inward for the throttle of the poet

A boy of many ages

Stands at the foot of well-tred stairs to

An attic suite of rooms

Split into one 

On this side of the veil of imagination,

A bedroom his father

Shot up from curious 8-year-old

Into decades marked by

Their vast difference;

From Vietnam War era Atheist Airforceman

In all that Thailand could offer a young man,

Life raging through his veins

To the Baptist would-be minister

If not for the mark of one divorce.

Standing even taller at this golden staircase

Facing the son of complexity,

A grandfather clock

Whose pendulum found

The middle-path of no further movement

Right or Left

In a time remembered only by

Black and white photos

Barely sealed in a curious chest

In the other more magical of the attic rooms.

Always reaching for the attic

Mostly restless in the lower floors

Sensing there must be more secrets

Whose mystery could feed the longing,

The longing that sits in my gut ,

The knowing and

Conversational whispering among my viscera,

The yes, indeed,

There is something more…

At times helium for the balloons of my imagination

And around certain bends,

The rusting anchors, no longer moorings for

Anything but the reminder

Of all the oxidation of impermanence.

It’s time to rise,

The wind at my back,

Seed stirring in my loins, heating, readying.

Each time Spring invests her renewal

I must hone my senses to give these seeds of power,

These seeds of Grace some fertile fruitful pathways.

They do

Like me

Reach for attic rooms.

They do

Like me

Hope for some uncomplicated

Distractions in the lower rooms.

You see, I must realize at some

Point

That I have been walking

In circles

Around the same block for centuries

Looking for entertainment in

A house with no lights

Condemned to pass

Into dust.

I finally willingly concede

In this Spring cleaning,

Letting the final vestiges

Exit the final stages of

My digestion.

All Rights Reserved 2011 - Scott Patrick Schwenk 3/6/11

(Poem) An Ode To The Mother

Scaling
Sliding
Slithering
along and
through the moist folds
formerly another Love Canal
void of spark
full of decay
Holding
Holding
Always holding back the flames
that would ignite
the passageways 
of physical history.
A laugh,
an unexpected chortle,
into a snort...
unbelievably,
movement.
Several explosions later
Shaking
Breaking
Oh, YES!
I am Whole.
Letting go,
it lets go.



Scott Patrick Schwenk      1/1/11

All Rights Reserved, Copyright 2011 Scott Patrick Schwenk

There's A Freedom

There’s a freedom

Whisperin’ in my ear,

‘I’m here, I’m here.

Lay down your burdens

Sweet one,

‘Cause I’m here, I’m here.

Well your Daddy done

All right, and

Your Momma’s been up

Nearly every night

Hopin’, prayin’, wantin’

Your life to be so bright.

Yes, oh, yes

My dear,

They done all right

They done all right.

Let the past

Be past

And the night be night.

I say it’s time,

It’s time,

For you to

Come all the way Home

Tonight.’

Scott Patrick Schwenk     12/15/10

Surrender

There is
only Love
inside this gateless gate.

Masquerading
as myriad
forms
shifting
like the sahara
always still
and only
crystalline sand,
as
there is
only Love
outside this gateless gate.

Scott Patrick Schwenk     11/24/10

Party Crashers

Who are these
naked
gnarled
nasty
interlopers so early in the morning
swaggering
down the hallways of my mind?

squatters.

squinting
they are
as the question
reflects the
flood light of Awareness
dissolving
shadows surfaced
not-so-sweetly
on the heels of
a night spent dreaming.

"Is it True?"
The ultimate
rechargeable
flashlight.

Scott Patrick Schwenk     10/25/10

When All Is Said And Done

When All is said and done,
will you
remember
to check your roots for
the Source of your nutrients?

Will you remember that
this very stem,
these proud emerald leaves
and oh-so-alluring petals
fluttering in the sweet afternoon breeze
are all on
the express train
back to the Nothing
from whence they came?

And will you
cling to the flittering flaky fragments...
ancient foliage finely ground to dust with
time's relentless mortar and pestle?

Will you then,
Dear One,
willingly remember;
You are, and
always have been,
This boundless pulsation of
Force
ricocheting through
all plants
Everywhere?

Scott Patrick Schwenk     9/20/10

Love Without Measure

All these minutes
     Cascading over
The sun-bleached hairs of my toes,
     Tides of memory and
Anticipation
     Rising
Falling
     Giving way
To a world revolving
     Outside of
Ticking, tocking,
     Clicking and clocking.
You Who need no measure
     To dance, swirl, and
Paint the world
     With your colorfilled notes,
Your waters lapping at
     The sweet walls of
The cave of my Heart.


Scott Patrick Schwenk     9/6/10

I Love You More Than You Know

I Love You More Than You Know


There are moments
When the veil
So thin
The gossamer 
So fine
My Heart convulsing
With the 
Motion and
Emotion
In the plexus of 
Our humanity.
In a complete exhale
I release.
Inspiration
Rising with 
Prana.
A fresh breath, and
With it New Life.
Amen.


Scott Patrick Schwenk ~ 7/20/10

Freefalling

It strikes me at this hour
that there are no easy answers,
and the ones that seem so
aren't worth the paper they're written on.

It's not until the great humblings
come along
that the simplest words spoken
can be heard.

The innocence we lived by,
a projection of our pain.

The muses looked up to
so many times
just bandaids.

We are the ones we're looking for
And time is running out.
We are the ones we're waiting for
Let's get it all clear now.
We are the ones we're gunning for
There's no one out there anywhere.

This war
Our own confusion
Tearing our own skin.

It's all just you and I
Reflected back in a thousand
Shattered shards of glass.

Hand in hand
No longer knitting the pieces of our lives
Into something warmer,
Something lasting...something better.

Peeling off the masks
Through the looking glass
No present tense
No future angst
No living in the past.

Freefalling
No more grasping
Grasplessness.

Scott Patrick Schwenk     3/11/10


*****NOTE  this one came through like a song...so it likely is...maybe the music is on it's way...i hear bits of it...

And Now the Laughing Begins

And Now the Laughing Begins

Riding the currents of 
Breath,
Not knowing whose
Yet sensing it as
Yours.


On certain days,
The surf pounding 
Against the gritty sand of
Fruitless mentation,
Agitation,
Irritation...


Only love
Caressing
Love.


Each sitting
A little warmer.


The thaw 
deepening towards 
a seeming icy core of
self-imposed
albeit
unconscious
holding back
separation
from You.


Each sitting
A little less familiar
A little less me
One less pair of 
Prada sunglasses
Reached for.
Less need for shielding.


I am the Light 
I've been protecting myself from.


And now the laughing
begins.

Scott Patrick Schwenk     1/26/10

Tremendous Amount of Energy

Tremendous Amount of Energy

Yep.

A lot.

The grand option of
Frittering it away in
Mindless twittering,
Flitting,
Flirting with emptiness
And not the kind
So full of contentment
As to thwart
Ego's incessant
Conniving
Pleading, and
Conning for more
Square footage.

how very 1986.

Moving on
Is moving In.

Nowhere to go
Nothing to do
No one to be.

Let the masks
Fall where they may
Clattering to the hardwood
to end the clammering
For flattery.

Just This.


Scott Patrick Schwenk     1/16/10

Sweeping The Chimney of My Heart

"It's time,"
said The Beloved,
as we were out for
a morning jog,
"It's time to divest
yourself of the sad virus
you've carefully concealed
and carried
for so long."

"But how?", I puzzled.

"By no longer running
from Me
in every face you see,
every leaf on every tree,
and the pile
of clothes on
your bedroom floor.
Let the breath of the Heart focus
the lenses of your eyes
from here on out,
and see Me as I really am...
Already with you."

Scott Patrick Schwenk 11/8/09