The Salvation Shuffle: Book Iv

By David Marx

I wrote Salvation Shuffle around 1978-9 mostly in Portland, Oregon. A little up in Seattle, Washington. It is the finale of a set of four books of poetry (pages) that I wrote in Oregon during my undergraduate years, and shortly thereafter. My explorations of eastern religions wells up and then fades away over the course of the set of books. Salvation Shuffle also exhausts my poetry. Book Four is actually the end of the whole phenomenon. Since about 1980 I only can write prose. Many famous people have perished trying too hard to break on through to the other side. I count my blessings.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Apr 5, 2012
• ISBN: 9781469190013

David Marx

I was born in Oregon. But Dad got drafted so we lived at the various navy bases on the west coast (USA). I have 5 siblings. Camp Pendleton was a lot of fun for a bunch of Navy brats. I attended East Bremerton High School and Goethe Gymnasium in Regensburg, Germany as an AFS exchange student. I attended Portland State University earning a B.S. (Biology), an M.A.T. (Biology), a B.A. (Psychology) and a M.S.T. (Chemistry). I taught high school science in Portland, Oregon and some time in Honduras. I tried medical school several years but quit that. Now I am retired and only work part time.

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Copyright © 2012 by David Marx.

Library of Congress Control Number:       2012905525

ISBN:          Softcover                                 978-1-4691-9000-6

                   Ebook                                      978-1-4691-9001-3

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Contents

Sitting One: Orientation

Part The First

The One-story Star-scratcher

Part Three

Rave On

The Manuscript

Guidebook Back to Deep Sleep

The Green Sun-glances

Band

Adjust the Sparks

Chapter One

CLUNK TING TANG CLANG

Sitting Four

One

Skittin and Scratchen

Peaceful Pal (follows) Pal

Two

Sigh, deep mellow, peace

Guardian Angels

Stay Pen, Stay: Heal Line, Heal

Sleep

P-89-Bootleg

One more time, Pass-89-bootleg

Right-guard-pulling pass-play

We should play a repeat

Computer chess, oh terrific joy, yeah

Closure

Musing, variably

Fifth Sitting

Sixth Sitting

Actualization

Offer yourself, no names

The Un-born

God Above

Water on foot-step desert

Foolish Love

This, that, and the other thing

Value

Bremerton, Chula Vista, Camp

Sitting Seven

Qualification

Sitting Eight

Trees don’t like the Godhead,

I challenge

On the table of tears

Stair Stopper

Sitting Nine

Who again?

Jumped, belly-flop with

1 & 1/2 twists

A fact, some elegant elephant

Listen, do you want

to hear a story?

Meanwhile . . .

 . . .Town! (plink)

Two minute warning

Sitting Ten

Eleventh Heaven

Pegasus Type Totality

Things

Sorrow

Fish!

Snoopy!

Woodstock

Stagehands

I swore

Sitting Twelve

Episode Thirteen:

Bringing it home

Choice

Episode Fourteen

Thoughts Across The Abysses of Space Here From Beyond The Absolute Toothe

t

1.jpg

Sitting One: Orientation

Part The First

Eye’s wrote without the audio-advances

and helped create a sound excursion

of temporary explicate, a flow of

unknown origin except reflected

on the side of your lapel, a spot

of unrecognizable differentness breathing

a tone of hoped for excursion through

the other side of hastily construed

midnightness as if upon another’s

bequest, sought the rest, bought the best,

allowed the listering nest, and elicited

a substitute for the syllables, and then

you know what happened? Eye wronged bye

the way of a fitting confusion, allowed

by the reportage again, reflecting a language

of symbolic other adidness and

bequeathed that fact into sold and bought

memories in the refraining train yard,

unbought. Afraid? Oh hardy ho height,

sleigh ride boat excursion through, and

over up above reaches the imaginative

possibility of the recurrent motif

of gently bumpy reflexion in the hoped

after-math of a hilly place called

and beckoning in the winds of memory’s trial,

WHO speaketh in loud deathly fearsomeness,

arises, reportage embarks nought,

person falls bought, nothing and outness,

playing toward the other side of characteristic

potentious calmingity, returning wheel,

that with the very mountain calls forth FIRST!

The One-story Star-scratcher

What’s in a number?

A three, bye any other name . . .

Let’s start again.

What’s in a number?

A three, by any other’s name . . .

would bespell your game,

the same, so tame, so lame.

‘makes sense of seven hills;

Hey! Get off’ my cloud!

Meant to say . . . a three,

or a two, you choose five some way, hey?

So say seven ways were on

the sixth shore of virtuosity;

then came the girl instead of me.

However the three rescues truth,

which, flew away when my

two took sway of his youth;

a nasty expression held sway;

elfish quadrangle that

brought my knowledge

to the fore. An ace

up my sleeve stretched out,

the thought of the action of the thought,

and then eye went into zen

and got caught up with the truth,

and married sevens with 5’s,

and merged into one-ness . . .

and wrote with a girl dancing forgiveness shuffle,

time’s arduous nick-knack idea competing mysticism,

idea called karma, deep dark secret promise of the

death of my rendezvous and vengeance faucet, external

beeing fire dancing loop the loop, short sentence

He is well aware of your psychic movements and

the plagiarism involved with

lady, look what happened      on a breeze

pop   credited eye of chastising "never-alone-enough,

enough, laugh, you attack me, so eyes reacted with these

frowns and disapproval. What you think, it in this hand-

tripping countenance, woodchuck and Dennis the Menace,

blocking left and writing right, the contention allowed

aboard the actual experimentation with aforethought

understanding karma location of synaptic flowing, truth

of knowing and below exploding, green sunglances and

the awakening, a little short of pulling on the rope,

there, well, internal thought, externalization and awe-

full sensation, truth of mellow survival and actually,

well now, thought bye the end of that this then there wood

approaching his awful truth yielded another scooped buzzing

and fancy place called Krishna Consciousness brewing; careful

Siva, for this shield is guaranteed bye the Srimad

Bhagavatam, sigh, long away he barked, time without, we’re

bought, sold into the stream faucet of writings on the

wall, quoted bye them all.

   Voices below the nectar of solitude floating contention,

aboard the steep slope the Author arose and

father was in the room when it counted, carefully the

generation of the deathly family truth vielded knowledge forth

the bubble of allaway time, whiling in belief in the truth - they

speak, and repeak, bark, bark, bark, tree, leaves, hi there,

pardon the intrusion of my ward, the room . . . Contrition Alley.

   He will wear Green Sunglasses; really trivial fore-

thought, right bye his wallet, change the pants, she said, a

corner, the dread, my abdakshena prakriti kam, around tea, just

cc spoken in the right moment and the connection will be

synaptic, the flowing breezes of time and aweful Lord; what speak

the breeze without a nose, Brahman’s language for sure, a fly bye

the door, green sunglasses mean a lot and page hither page, dot

below semi-colon, a few stitches in quotation, an audience on

home truth strand, seeds in the clouds and rain with love

combined, fancy footwork, contrition in time - Winter. Eye

predicted this in my Monday morning prophesy, read this

person-connection without the prevention, then villagexation,

lost in the familiar quotation, ok, you fairy God-mother, bee the

sun

glances

eye looked, there’s nothing there, feed the fly and buzz bye,

quick! Not the whereabouts, God in the next room. Any door now,

my swearing center will bee the result of a 20th century

scientist on his first vacation and work looming, in the field of

the television and telephone plagiarisation. Then eye was NOW!

Only eye was also sure that the Lord would appear bee-cause the

Lord IS now the person before whom eye will receive the

pass-word, only the Lord is the buzzing type-writer and so the

eyes feel better, thank you, hi there, typewriter manifest

action below you. She’ll walk bye and not Knot, you’re gonna hit

Dan if Dan has the green sun-glasses personally, why? hmm,

practicing. In other words, you’ll strike actually in the

distant future, you believe eye am a psychiatrist talking through

your game, huh, us also, leave us at the word no. A long drawn

out reason why I predilected The After-noon Shade.

Dizzying thought of where the actual truth of the arguments will manifest itself in the delicate dream world of blessed sleep in the after-noon and yet the myth of today strikes the absurdist race through the bee phase of the entire episode; survived, sure, yet at what cost? Several bee incarnations, no, just cc, quote, plagiarize the proper source, quick! Use that art lesson, pop, just see see, just cc, Mary CC, a slip of the pen in the wrong moment and if lizards are anywhere near the arrival of grass-mowing, then then would bee NOW, wow! Narayana, really perfect the consciousness of a hound character, trees hold lots of sunshine so the chastisement wears through this nest he has hidden in his garage which flight wills bill, hills and hills, in your negative altitude. Snow, a time free, like you and me, planned in the hills over, devotees skiing towards negativity, wait a minute, what bar-builder