Monday, May 30, 2011
Memorial Day----
A hero is someone who does decent things in a way that everyone notices but it is heroic to do decent things when no one takes notice. Hero’s tend to get applause from everyone. Someone who is heroic usually has the love of only those who know them best. Personally, I think it’s far better to be heroic than to be a hero…...
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Balance----
Balance
People are creatures
Born of spirit
Born of earth
Like all the other creatures
Who inhabit our little blue planet
We all have an inclination
To look for danger first
This is why our news
Show our problems, show our grief
It's common to believe
You should error
On the side of safety
But this is just a way to say
“Listen to your fears
Listen to grief”
Far better
To ignore your anxieties
Balance yourself with care
And error on the side of optimism
If you gotta make a mistake
Do it on the side of compassion
Rise to the hopes of your spirit
Balance yourself
With the piece of you
That looks for the best in life
And in people
In all that you do
In all who you meet
Give living half a chance
And the benefit of a doubt
You'll be surprised
How many times
Life rises to the occasion
People are creatures
Born of spirit
Born of earth
Like all the other creatures
Who inhabit our little blue planet
We all have an inclination
To look for danger first
This is why our news
Show our problems, show our grief
It's common to believe
You should error
On the side of safety
But this is just a way to say
“Listen to your fears
Listen to grief”
Far better
To ignore your anxieties
Balance yourself with care
And error on the side of optimism
If you gotta make a mistake
Do it on the side of compassion
Rise to the hopes of your spirit
Balance yourself
With the piece of you
That looks for the best in life
And in people
In all that you do
In all who you meet
Give living half a chance
And the benefit of a doubt
You'll be surprised
How many times
Life rises to the occasion
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Book Review----
Review of “Dave Riggler's Stories”
Today I'm going to take a look at “Dave Riggler's Stories” written by Brian Hartman. “Dave Riggler's Stories” is series of six short stories in one binding about a man who was born with spina bifida, a spinal problem that prevents him from walking. The book is small, at about forty-five pages. It is presented as a series of scenes from Dave Riggler's life starting with a story from his early youth before his was in kindergarten. It follows Dave through his life ending with a story about dating from his thirties. Mr. Hartman is the sort of writer who says a lot in just a little space. The book is absent of drawn out or flamboyant descriptions, and the work carries itself quite successfully on storyline, conversation and poignant choice of narrative alone.
As I read the book, I quickly began to like Dave for his kindness and his determination. A few pages in, and I couldn't put it down. Dave is a fellow who approaches his handicap and life in general from a very pragmatic viewpoint. It's very interesting to read his views on daily life and his opinion of the medical community such as the physical therapists who try to get him to walk with a walker when he was a teenager. Time and time again, Dave shows considerable empathy for the lives of those whom he happens across, such as a suicidal woman he meets one night in a bar, and a homeless man for whom he buys a meal. In one of the most dramatic passages of the book, Dave recounts his experiences on 9-11 as he watches the disaster unfold while working in a multistory building himself. He watches the news in shock as he thinks about all the people in the Twin Towers and about those among them who are in wheelchairs and likely would not be able to escape a building in which the elevators no longer work.
Two themes run throughout the book. Daves experiences with the medical community and his experiences with trying to find a partner. He mentions in one passage that by a certain time in his life he'd undergone surgery thirteen times. One has to read a book like this to begin to develop an appreciation how significant a part doctors, psychologists, and surgeons play in the life of some handicapped people.
I finished the book wanting it to be longer so that I could come to know Dave Riggler even better. He's is the kind of person you'd like to spend a few afternoons at coffee with. If the book has any shortcoming at all it's that it could be of greater length. At the same time, in forty-five pages, Mr. Hartman very successfully gives you a heartfelt, well rounded, very well written look at the daily life and emotional wanderings of a man who goes through this world on wheels rather than on legs. The fact that Mr. Hartman is able to accomplish this in a work of this length only confirms the fact that he approaches the art of the pen with a very great deal of skill. I recommend Dave Riggler's Stories as a must read for anyone interested in learning about the heart and mind someone who is handicapped. I would like to thank Mr. Hartman for the opportunity to review his fine book. It has been a real pleasure to read. ------Dewey Dirks
Today I'm going to take a look at “Dave Riggler's Stories” written by Brian Hartman. “Dave Riggler's Stories” is series of six short stories in one binding about a man who was born with spina bifida, a spinal problem that prevents him from walking. The book is small, at about forty-five pages. It is presented as a series of scenes from Dave Riggler's life starting with a story from his early youth before his was in kindergarten. It follows Dave through his life ending with a story about dating from his thirties. Mr. Hartman is the sort of writer who says a lot in just a little space. The book is absent of drawn out or flamboyant descriptions, and the work carries itself quite successfully on storyline, conversation and poignant choice of narrative alone.
As I read the book, I quickly began to like Dave for his kindness and his determination. A few pages in, and I couldn't put it down. Dave is a fellow who approaches his handicap and life in general from a very pragmatic viewpoint. It's very interesting to read his views on daily life and his opinion of the medical community such as the physical therapists who try to get him to walk with a walker when he was a teenager. Time and time again, Dave shows considerable empathy for the lives of those whom he happens across, such as a suicidal woman he meets one night in a bar, and a homeless man for whom he buys a meal. In one of the most dramatic passages of the book, Dave recounts his experiences on 9-11 as he watches the disaster unfold while working in a multistory building himself. He watches the news in shock as he thinks about all the people in the Twin Towers and about those among them who are in wheelchairs and likely would not be able to escape a building in which the elevators no longer work.
Two themes run throughout the book. Daves experiences with the medical community and his experiences with trying to find a partner. He mentions in one passage that by a certain time in his life he'd undergone surgery thirteen times. One has to read a book like this to begin to develop an appreciation how significant a part doctors, psychologists, and surgeons play in the life of some handicapped people.
I finished the book wanting it to be longer so that I could come to know Dave Riggler even better. He's is the kind of person you'd like to spend a few afternoons at coffee with. If the book has any shortcoming at all it's that it could be of greater length. At the same time, in forty-five pages, Mr. Hartman very successfully gives you a heartfelt, well rounded, very well written look at the daily life and emotional wanderings of a man who goes through this world on wheels rather than on legs. The fact that Mr. Hartman is able to accomplish this in a work of this length only confirms the fact that he approaches the art of the pen with a very great deal of skill. I recommend Dave Riggler's Stories as a must read for anyone interested in learning about the heart and mind someone who is handicapped. I would like to thank Mr. Hartman for the opportunity to review his fine book. It has been a real pleasure to read. ------Dewey Dirks
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Same Old New....
Same Old New
Love in each of us
Caution in all
Connection and detachment
In everyone
A brotherhood of humanity
Full of individuals
Intelligence in all of us
Idiocy too
Every upside
Has a downside
The fleas always come
With the dog
I've seen the love in someone
Appear at just the right moment
And save everything for them
Possibly worth saving
I've also seen the love in someone
Maim the people they most care for
As it blinded them
Into becoming a fool
I've seen fear eat people alive
As it destroyed
What was in their heart
So too I've seen the fear in someone
Save them from great harm
When at the right moment
They heeded caution
Even the best runners
Trip and fall
Every once in awhile
And the slowest among us
Can be quick to learn
Even the smartest of us
Have found themselves
Acting like an idiot
A time or two
Impermanence
Is mostly permanent
Every day I awake
And look in the mirror
To find the same old
Someone new
Every morning
I look out the window
To find a new world
Full of the same old change
Every day it's the same---
I learn something new
Dewey Dirks copyright 2011
Love in each of us
Caution in all
Connection and detachment
In everyone
A brotherhood of humanity
Full of individuals
Intelligence in all of us
Idiocy too
Every upside
Has a downside
The fleas always come
With the dog
I've seen the love in someone
Appear at just the right moment
And save everything for them
Possibly worth saving
I've also seen the love in someone
Maim the people they most care for
As it blinded them
Into becoming a fool
I've seen fear eat people alive
As it destroyed
What was in their heart
So too I've seen the fear in someone
Save them from great harm
When at the right moment
They heeded caution
Even the best runners
Trip and fall
Every once in awhile
And the slowest among us
Can be quick to learn
Even the smartest of us
Have found themselves
Acting like an idiot
A time or two
Impermanence
Is mostly permanent
Every day I awake
And look in the mirror
To find the same old
Someone new
Every morning
I look out the window
To find a new world
Full of the same old change
Every day it's the same---
I learn something new
Dewey Dirks copyright 2011
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Love isn't enough----
If you want to care for people as the Gods do, you have to do much more than just love them. You have to like them.....Then you have to like them in spite of the fact they're a pain in the ass....Then you have to like them in spite of the fact they think you're a pain in the ass too.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Monday, May 16, 2011
Friday, May 13, 2011
All The Rest Be Damned!----
Today I'm going to use a poem and a video that have previously been featured on the Questioning Way blog to make a point----
Shit. Damn. Fuck. Hell. I've used all of these words from time to time in my writing and speaking. They are an integral part of the lexicon of vernacular English as it is commonly spoken and written in the United States in the early 21st century. They are very important to our language and are widely used because sometimes it is just impossible to employ any other word besides one of these as we each try to express the emotions we feel every day. A little further down the page, I'll illustrate this point a bit more poignantly. With the exception of one MMO computer game that I'm a massive toad for called 'Spore,' I rarely stay for long any place on the world wide web that tries to censor me if I happen to use one of these words to express myself. Now, it might not seem like such a big deal if this or that website has a problem should I use the word shit or hell when I feel so inclined, but I know that the desire to censor speech and thought is a dangerously contagious disease and an astoundingly slippery slope that must be guarded against constantly. With truly frightening speed it leads to vagrant attempts to control free thought such as experienced by woman in following video, which tells the story high school teacher who was recently harassed by a TV station for having the audacity to be a teacher and a erotic romance writer at the same time. The principle of free speech is of the utmost concern to all of us if we are to remain a country that in the farthest reaches of the imagination, could be called 'free.'
Fortunately, thousands of people came to this woman’s aid with a show of support (The Questioning Way blog included) as her story made it's way around the web. To the TV stations credit, they later aired a piece correcting their mistake, but only after so many people came to her defense, it became painfully obvious to them they really screwed the lurch.
I've also felt the sting of serious attempts to control what I say and write. Some years ago, I was invited to publish some poetry to a federally funded website ran by the National Endowment for the Arts. At the time it was a pretty nice break for me because the site enjoyed thousands of viewers. Among the work I published there was the poem “Don't Call me Collect---God” It was subsequently banned from the site for using the word 'damned' because I had God saying “All the rest be damned!” in one of the lines of the poem. If you don't think that swear words serve a vital function in our language, just substitute the phrase “All the rest be darned!”in place of original phrase and see how the poem reads.
Don't call me collect --God
Perhaps on some golden throne
alive in the sky, you watch over each of us
--rain warm love, bathing one by one
man and sparrow with most tender care
Or, like a child at play
did you make the clock your grand experiment?
then, called to dinner, you plan to be back at eight
wondering if we'll still be tocking
Are you a big ashen bearded daddy?
with all the answers up there
will you spank us forever if we don't believe?
Maybe you're a cosmic hippie
you say "Hey don't you remember?
ten thousand years ago
we all stood at Salisbury in ecstasy"
Then, with hand to forehead you say
"Or maybe it was nineteen seventy-one
you know, all that acid still gets to me"
Are you a wrinkled old man?
stuttering, the very edge of senility
you wait at the gate, white picket complacency
We come home for a hug and obligatory visit
the younger playing Grandfather for a free dime
Perhaps you are a crone, ancient and wise
living in rock, road, brook, and tree
You made a hard, wondrous, magical land
where stumbling, we acolytes slowly learn of beauty
With fire on your finger tips
maybe you throw lightning bolts
make floods, cause the sky to darken
Perhaps you'll let five thousand faithful in
"All the rest be damned!" you say as the earth quakes
Perhaps one time, some time, ever time
we'll be sitting in the park, you and I
Muhammad, Gautama and Einstein play dice across the way
cool green grass, white daisies, blue sky, shade trees
I say, "You know, I wondered always if you were a figment"
You say, "Don't we all, my friend, begin and end in fantasy?"
Dewey Dirks Copyright 2010
Shit. Damn. Fuck. Hell. I've used all of these words from time to time in my writing and speaking. They are an integral part of the lexicon of vernacular English as it is commonly spoken and written in the United States in the early 21st century. They are very important to our language and are widely used because sometimes it is just impossible to employ any other word besides one of these as we each try to express the emotions we feel every day. A little further down the page, I'll illustrate this point a bit more poignantly. With the exception of one MMO computer game that I'm a massive toad for called 'Spore,' I rarely stay for long any place on the world wide web that tries to censor me if I happen to use one of these words to express myself. Now, it might not seem like such a big deal if this or that website has a problem should I use the word shit or hell when I feel so inclined, but I know that the desire to censor speech and thought is a dangerously contagious disease and an astoundingly slippery slope that must be guarded against constantly. With truly frightening speed it leads to vagrant attempts to control free thought such as experienced by woman in following video, which tells the story high school teacher who was recently harassed by a TV station for having the audacity to be a teacher and a erotic romance writer at the same time. The principle of free speech is of the utmost concern to all of us if we are to remain a country that in the farthest reaches of the imagination, could be called 'free.'
Fortunately, thousands of people came to this woman’s aid with a show of support (The Questioning Way blog included) as her story made it's way around the web. To the TV stations credit, they later aired a piece correcting their mistake, but only after so many people came to her defense, it became painfully obvious to them they really screwed the lurch.
I've also felt the sting of serious attempts to control what I say and write. Some years ago, I was invited to publish some poetry to a federally funded website ran by the National Endowment for the Arts. At the time it was a pretty nice break for me because the site enjoyed thousands of viewers. Among the work I published there was the poem “Don't Call me Collect---God” It was subsequently banned from the site for using the word 'damned' because I had God saying “All the rest be damned!” in one of the lines of the poem. If you don't think that swear words serve a vital function in our language, just substitute the phrase “All the rest be darned!”in place of original phrase and see how the poem reads.
Don't call me collect --God
Perhaps on some golden throne
alive in the sky, you watch over each of us
--rain warm love, bathing one by one
man and sparrow with most tender care
Or, like a child at play
did you make the clock your grand experiment?
then, called to dinner, you plan to be back at eight
wondering if we'll still be tocking
Are you a big ashen bearded daddy?
with all the answers up there
will you spank us forever if we don't believe?
Maybe you're a cosmic hippie
you say "Hey don't you remember?
ten thousand years ago
we all stood at Salisbury in ecstasy"
Then, with hand to forehead you say
"Or maybe it was nineteen seventy-one
you know, all that acid still gets to me"
Are you a wrinkled old man?
stuttering, the very edge of senility
you wait at the gate, white picket complacency
We come home for a hug and obligatory visit
the younger playing Grandfather for a free dime
Perhaps you are a crone, ancient and wise
living in rock, road, brook, and tree
You made a hard, wondrous, magical land
where stumbling, we acolytes slowly learn of beauty
With fire on your finger tips
maybe you throw lightning bolts
make floods, cause the sky to darken
Perhaps you'll let five thousand faithful in
"All the rest be damned!" you say as the earth quakes
Perhaps one time, some time, ever time
we'll be sitting in the park, you and I
Muhammad, Gautama and Einstein play dice across the way
cool green grass, white daisies, blue sky, shade trees
I say, "You know, I wondered always if you were a figment"
You say, "Don't we all, my friend, begin and end in fantasy?"
Dewey Dirks Copyright 2010
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Buzzard Breath----
....This poem goes to prove you can never take life too not seriously...or is it too not unseroiusly not....;)
Buzzard Breath
Lord it's hot up here today
an' all this smog
from yonder city
is flat out chokin' me
Lookit that car down there!
man is he goin' fast!
maybe he'll run a rabbit down
an' I'll have sumthin' to eat
Oh no! here comes Hank!
he's that asshole from Death Valley
an' I'd bet a dead rattlesnake
he thinks he's gonna bum some food from me
Hell, if birds had teeth
that sucker'd steal yer tail
while he was smilin' at yer beak
Well hullo there Hank!
howzitgoin ya ole scavenger!
long time no see! Oh I'm jist fine
What's that? Nope nuthin's bin kilt off yet
not even a horny toad
What? Yer leavin' already?
nice seein' ya Hank, fly by more offin'!
taker' easy an' have a good thermal!
Well, there he goes...
I hope he flies into a 747
Dewey Dirks copyright 2011
Friday, May 6, 2011
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Monday, May 2, 2011
Melody Version Two----
Update---Man, going live with one of these things can be a mess. We had a couple details wrong and had to do a new edit of the video real quick and post it back up--the version you see here is actually the third version I've post up today gggrrrrrrr ;)
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Heaven and Earth----
Heaven and Earth
Some say heaven is high above us
and hell lies far below.
Some say that life for most is hell in a hand basket
but that for a few it's pure bliss.
Some say earth is the land of labor
where day by day we all break our backs.
But you know, life is a long, long walk
with more than one place to go
and more than one place to stop.
What you get back
has a lot to do with what you put in.
And what we think we see
can be a tricky thing
because life is inside of you
and outside at the same time.
Life is trouble for each of us
some of the time
but little bits of heaven
touch us all every day
in the smiles of strangers
in the touch of your lover
in the eyes of a child
in jokes from a friend
in the purr of your cat
in the wag of a dogs tail
where the love you give out
is the love you get back.
Now, those bits of heaven
that you have every day
can carry you through a lifetime
like a river flowing out to the sea.
But don't hold on too tightly
as the moments pass by.
Love and happiness
enjoyed for a moment then released
return to visit
more than once each day.
The roads we take
can be a hard, winding ride.
We all know
what this old world can do.
If you loose your way
just hold a newborn babe in your hands.
Little bits of life
spread all around five minutes at a time
grow into eighty years of good memories
like a great field of cool green grass
stretching out across the long years behind.
Dewey Dirks Copyright 2011
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Monday, April 25, 2011
Damn! Optimisim is Addictive. Better try it while it's still legal....
"Faith" is from the beginning of one of the chapters in the Questioning Way.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
We The People
Here is a video done by a group over in Ireland. Perhaps we should take a page out of these guys book :)
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Closing Schools, Cutting Education----
I rarely make political posts on the Questioning Way Blog, and I rarely have guest writers. Today I'm doing both. My young friend, Ambrosia, is a 20 year old college student who is livid about the fact that many in this country have lately become intent on targeting education for budget cuts. Ambrosia and I are both astounded that Federal and local governments in the U.S. appear prepared to further impair an educational system that is already a flaming piece of shit. (as we all are quite aware) Starve the young a decent chance at education to save a few bucks? What kind of reasoning is that? Anyone who wouldn't be wiling to pay a few more taxes in order to give the young a decent education ought to wake up and fly right. We all should be ashamed. I'm sure you all will find Ambrosia's essay to be written from the heart. --DD
Bravery----
I see several people have been looking for a poem I posted up here some time back. So, here is a repost of "Bravery" for those of you who've been looking for it. This is a poem from the latter half of The Questioning Way
Bravery
When I walked into the bar
Two kids were calling him out
One had a broken bottle, the other had a short club
Steiger was not a big man, and he was unarmed
But good lord, he had a look about him!
A chill went through the room and he stood to face them
Steiger squared up and said
“Before you start
With whatever problem it is you have with me
I'll tell you this--- I don't care
What kind storm you think you are,
I guarantee that you have never seen the like
Of a few of the storms I have been through.
Now, you do what you think you want to do
I just thought you ought to know.”
Steiger waited
The kids stared back at him
I don't think they knew exactly what to do
Finally, one of them pulled his friends shirt
He said, “Shit Jeff! Come on let's go!”
Ole Jeff dropped his bottle and walked out of there
I guess he realized
He'd bit off a little more than he could chew
Steiger sat back down
And I shimmied up beside him
I said “I'm pleased to meet you
I think that's the bravest thing I can recall seeing
Steiger took a drink and smiled
'Said “Hell son, that wasn't brave
That was just solid sense.
Now brave? I've seen brave a time or two”
Brave is jumping back over the wall
To save a good man down
As the bullets come flying back at you
Brave is being alone on your bike
And trying that corner at seventy
When there's gravel, the sign says twenty-five tops
And you know what's gonna happen
If the ground takes a swipe at you
Now, that's the kind of bravery that faces death
But braver still, I think
Is the kind that faces life, son
Brave is being a single mother alone in the big city
You come home every day to two little ones who are hungry
And you know the only thing
Between them and some serious hurt
Is you and your shitty job
Down at the 7-11
There is a kind of bravery
That hopes beyond all hope
And still tries to get things done
When just about everything in life has fallen apart
All the chips are down
And all you've got is a pair of three's on the table
There is a kind of bravery that has a dream
And still keeps crawling on
When you're only half-way done
As all the bills keep coming due
And for all the world it still appears
That you don't have a ghost's chance in hell
Of ever seeing it all the way through
Then there's the kind
That loves deeply and loses
But dares to try and love again
And the kind that loves easy
And dares try to find room in their heart
For everyone
If you face death and lose
Well, you'll be dead and gone
And nothing much will matter to you
But if you face life and lose
Then you have to live
With what has happened to you
Dewey Dirks copyright 2008
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
God, Fate, Luck and Destiny---
Hey folks, news just in! --- God, fate, luck and destiny are all busy this century. Damn! It looks like you'll have to make things happen for you by doing it yourself.
No matter how bad you have it----
Yesterday, I was talking to my friend Tee. I said, "Today's a bitch. One car blew a tire and the other one overheated." She said, "Hey, just be glad you've got two cars. Some people don't have any." Wise woman, Tee.
No matter how bad you think you've got it, there is always someone else who thinks you're lucky to have it as good as you do.
Monday, April 18, 2011
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Don't Call Me Collect---
The next two poems go together and are written about a subject we all think about from time to time. “Don't Call me Collect” was actually written in the late 90's, “Route 27,” about ten years later. There are a couple things about the subject of religion and God that you can be sure of. First, the more certain you are that you have answers, the more likely it is that you don't, and second, even if you are an atheist or agnostic, if there is a God, you'd definitely like to meet him/her even if were just to bitch at them for awhile :) After you write something like "Route 27" people ask you if you believe in God. Well, to be honest, I've never really figured the God thing out completely, but I'm pretty sure that if there is a God, finding them has more to do with the questions we each ask than the answers any one of us has ever found.
Don't call me collect --God
Perhaps on some golden throne
alive in the sky, you watch over each of us
--rain warm love, bathing one by one
man and sparrow with most tender care
Or, like a child at play
did you make the clock your grand experiment?
then, called to dinner, you plan to be back at eight
wondering if we'll still be tocking
Are you a big ashen bearded daddy?
with all the answers up there
will you spank us forever if we don't believe?
Maybe you're a cosmic hippie
you say "Hey don't you remember?
ten thousand years ago
we all stood at Salisbury in ecstasy"
Then, with hand to forehead you say
"Or maybe it was nineteen seventy-one
you know, all that acid still gets to me"
Are you a wrinkled old man?
stuttering, the very edge of senility
you wait at the gate, white picket complacency
We come home for a hug and obligatory visit
the younger playing Grandfather for a free dime
Perhaps you are a crone, ancient and wise
living in rock, road, brook, and tree
You made a hard, wondrous, magical land
where stumbling, we acolytes slowly learn of beauty
With fire on your finger tips
maybe you throw lightning bolts
make floods, cause the sky to darken
Perhaps you'll let five thousand faithful in
"All the rest be damned!" you say as the earth quakes
Perhaps one time, some time, ever time
we'll be sitting in the park, you and I
Muhammad, Gautama and Einstein play dice across the way
cool green grass, white daisies, blue sky, shade trees
I say, "You know, I wondered always if you were a figment"
You say, "Don't we all, my friend, begin and end in fantasy?"
Dewey Dirks Copyright 2010
Route 27....
Route 27
Late one night
I was out for a ride on the bike
on a long desert road called State Route 27.
The moon was full and bright.
Stars peppered the warm August sky.
The road was empty
and the night was asking
for a high speed run.
I decided to open it on up.
Let her go right to the edge.
Let her really breath.
I brought her up to around one thirty-five
and settled in for a ride long, fast and low.
The headlight shouted out brightly in front of me
and the engine wound out in a high pitched yell
as the white lines blinked quickly on by
silent and oh so fast.
My senses were as alert
as they could possibly get
and in spite of the darkness
every detail of the passing road
jumped out at my eyes.
I swear I could see
the gravel embedded in the rushing asphalt
and the barbs on the wire fence
at the side of the road.
Like so many times before,
I fell once again, in love with life,
the rapid beat of my heart.
and the quickness of my rolling breath.
Just then in my shimmering mirror
on the horizon behind me
I saw the headlight of another bike
coming up hard, coming up quick.
Ten seconds later
a slender figure on a dark blue chopper
blew by me like I was standing still.
I rolled the throttle wide open.
Pretty soon I was doing about one forty-three
but I couldn't catch her
and I watched her taillight
quickly become a distant dot on the road.
Right before it disappeared,
it looked like she pulled over,
I backed on down.
Before long I was coming up beside her.
I came to a stop
and shut off my bike.
--Figured I'd rest for awhile
and chat with the lady.
Leaning on on the seat of her ride
having a smoke
was a beautiful woman, maybe forty
with deep blue eyes and long dark hair.
She and her bike had kind of a glow about them.
Very subtle but bright at the same time.
Friendly but kind of mysterious.
Very quiet, kind of peaceful,
unquestionably kind.
I nodded hello, not knowing exactly what to say.
She nodded back and said
in a voice like a love song by Dido,
“Evening. Nice night for a drive.”
I looked back at her
and knew I had to wonder out loud.
I smiled as best I could and asked,
“Just who are you?”
She shrugged and said,
“Oh, they call me by lots of names.
You probably know me as 'I am,' or 'Alpha and Omega,'
or some of that other useless stuff humans like to say.
You all really need to learn
any word you want can mean everything
or nothing at all
as you so choose.
Why don't you call me 'Sparky,'
or 'Wiggles,' or 'Effy?'
That would suite me just fine.”
“You're God? Or maybe an Alien?” I asked.
She chuckled and said,
“I'll leave all that up to you.”
I looked at her confused.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“Like you, I'm just out for a late night ride,” she smiled.
I still didn't know exactly who she was
but I did know she was someone very, very special.
“I've got so many questions...” I stammered,
“I don't know where to begin.”
“One of the really nice things about people” she said,
“Is that they are very curious creatures.
Always full of questions.”
“So what's the right point of view?
We have so many...” I asked.
“You know all those religions and philosophies
That people bicker over
and fight about all the time?” she said,
“Well they all have a few good ideas,
every one of them.
They all carry around a bunch of bullshit too.
And science is pretty much the same way.
People really need to learn to think
in a many-sided fashion
Instead of just bi-valently.
You can put that in your pipe and smoke it,” she smiled.
I thought about that for a minute
Then I asked,
“So what does the future hold?
People seem so messed up a lot of the time.”
She took a drag on her cigarette and said,
“You know, some guy once said
that the meek would inherit the earth.
Well, I've got some news for you
---they inherited it some time back.
But humanity is kind of a fixer-upper species
and change can happen only so fast
without making a big mess of everything.
Imagine the best of the 20's and 60's.
Imagine the golden ages of music
and the intellectual leaps forward
during the Renaissance.
These are previews of things to come.
But humans have a ways to go.
You've got to get it through
your thick, Cro-Magnon heads
that every time you disagree
it's not good to start killing each other.
And you've got to learn to make governments
that don't attract power mongers quite so fast.
It's also important to learn to make companies
that have a conscience
and a genuine sense of human decency.
And you humans really need to learn
to share a lot better.
“I said, “Geeze, we sound like bratty children.”
She chuckled, “Well, Homo sapiens
Is a pretty young species.
If all humanity were a single person
you'd be around twelve years old, by my reckoning.
So you see, you're just starting to grow up a bit.
Far in the future, when you're much older
you humans will have great adventures
and do great things, if you ask me.
She took a drag on her smoke, then continued,
“I have to tell you,
there will always be some inequalities
because that's the only way to build a world
in which you can strive.
But one day people will seek to better their spirit
with the same enthusiasm
that today they use to build better guns
and make more money.
There will also always be people better and worse
because that's the only way to make a world
where those who need to can learn to improve.
But one day the worst of men
will be as kind than the most generous human
of your time.
One day men will fight their personal ignorance
and fear of their own inner beauty
with the same determination
they use to fight each other today.
All this might sound kind of strange
considering the way humans are right now
but you can make this future
a reality one day for all mankind
by making it a reality for yourself today.
For humans, improvement happens
From the bottom up and from the inside out
One person at a time.
Now, don't think of being a good man
like it means you gotta be
all pansy and syrupy sweet.
One day humans will be kind of like
the good-bad guys of the universe.
They'll have kind dispositions
and big hearts
but with a lot of edge
like a good rock and roll song.
But humans need to realize
that the most powerful things in life
don't always end up fighting each other.
You all have the bad habit
of often thinking the greatest tests in life
involve war and fighting and killing each other
when the biggest challenge a human can face
is learning how to love better.
Effy took one last drag off her cigarette.
She glanced at it and said,
“Did I bother to mention
you really need to get off peoples asses
about smoking these things.
it's really not worse than overeating.”
Then she smiled and said,
“Damn! Enough talking. Lets take a ride.”
She got on her bike and cranked it on up.
I could see the sky move a bit when it started.
I got on my bike
and hit the button to light the tubes.
Effy waited as the ground shook
with every thump of her engine.
Then we pulled out onto Route 27
and pretty soon we were doing around one twenty-five.
We rode beside each other till almost dawn.
Just as the sun broke the skyline,
I felt kindness and compassion wash over me
along with a dose of 'Fuck a fine mess' too.
Then Effy down shifted
and gave me a thumbs-up.
About ten seconds later all I could see of her
was a tiny red taillight fading into the horizon.
But I'll tell you, as the night had rolled on
with us riding side by side
I knew what it was to feel joy.
Dewey Dirks---copyright 2009
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