I wore my suit and tie
like a Bodhisattva wears his robes
my wingtips his sandals

I drove my Mercedes C-Class
like an ox cart and read Kerouac; or Ginsberg
as some revere scripture

all these became in me—
I thought—the markings
of a spiritual man

where some climbed mountains
in Sherpa chhuba; or crossed desert in Bedouin thawb
I walked sidewalks in Armani chic

as those who chant
mantras into the wind; I spoke “truth”
(into the wind) for no one listened



Words of Wisdom for Aspiring Artists

“Alan Watts was a British philosopher who spoke about Asian philosophies for a Western audience. He wrote over 25 books and was an excellent orator on topics such as the meaning of life, higher consciousness, the true nature of reality and the pursuit of happiness.”

“Advice? I don’t have advice. Stop aspiring and start writing. If you’re writing, you’re a writer. Write like you’re a goddamn death row inmate and the governor is out of the country and there’s no chance for a pardon. Write like you’re clinging to the edge of a cliff, white knuckles, on your last breath, and you’ve got just one last thing to say, like you’re a bird flying over us and you can see everything, and please, for God’s sake, tell us something that will save us from ourselves. Take a deep breath and tell us your deepest, darkest secret, so we can wipe our brow and know that we’re not alone. Write like you have a message from the king. Or don’t. Who knows, maybe you’re one of the lucky ones who doesn’t have to.” -Alan Watts

This is an excerpt from the article: 25 Alan Watts Quotes That Will Blow Your Mind Wide Open
By Universe Insider – May 7, 2017

On the Road to Satori – Boz Berzerkely


Boz Berzerkely


in Berkeley I found
a companion
for the road
a puppy—Boz
I called her
a little terrier
with big paws
a tawny snout
they said was lost
could I take care of her?

in New Orleans
after a few weeks
of little food
the steady drone
of highway and
rattling boxcar
I caught her
as she tried
to sneak off

her shoulders
hunched ready
to run whenever
I wasn’t looking

I caught her eye
she stopped
turned back yipping
wagging her tail rubbed
up against my leg and
promised to be
the good

I knelt
as she licked my face
“good girl—good girl”
and scratched her ears
set my thumb back
to the road

when I turned
to look again
she was gone

On the Road to Satori – Koch




the weather
is bound to clear up by Florida
I think as I sit in some sterile diner:
what New Jersey must be like all over
eating pie a-la mode and black coffee
a-la Kerouac


I stick out my thumb and say to myself
“I’m on the road and all I’ve got is time and that concrete ribbon
to guide me to Heaven” (in some metaphorically eastern way)

Florida will be sunshine and palm trees
maybe by Friday if the rides come quick
and I don’t find me standing on a highway ramp
for eight hours like that time in Chicago
with Koch

I partnered up with Koch
on a previous cross-country journey
just outside of Reno for the ride back East
we watched the Northern Lights in Utah
braved a blizzard through Wyoming—
after all that—ended up in Chicago
stranded in cold freezing rain

no mischievous grin
from those Chicago drivers
only that hollow
go-to-hell! look
and the finger

or Looky-Loos rubbernecking
the freaks on the side of the road getting drenched
“ha ha, who left you out there anyway? and why don’t
somebody get them out of the rain? and don’t think
I’m gonna give you a ride!”

finally in Florida—the weather is beautiful
on this December night or November (I think
it was actually October) the moon bright
filled with white billowy clouds
drift across the sky in time-lapse
so I feel like I’m floating in twilight
on a ramp near the 76 Union Truck Stop in Jacksonville
I sing to myself:

“Old Jack on the road
how many places
many people you’ve known?

Old Jack
he just answers
“It’s Heaven
my son
my son”

On the Road to Satori – The Ru’nes of the Colorado

route 66 by mezaka

The Ru’nes of the Colorado

the End of the Dream…

we rode underneath a fire-red sun
the heat waves rose from our wheels
the desert was hot and dry as we drove
in our dusty automobile

the sun ricocheted into the horizon and oblivion
the air crackled dry with sagebrush and dirt
squashed by the burning sun

we rode the desert in search of satori
but ended our quest with roast beef on rye
and beer to quench our thirst; as we made our way West
from one roadhouse to the next

five hundred horses
pulled our wagon through the dunes
left no fear of dying as we drove through
the canyons and the ru’nes

palm treed groves that look
like Eden welcome you to Los Angeles
they are a relief from the desert and the grief
across the burning desert sands and
the desecrated Indian lands

now we sit
tip back tequila
on San Pedro Bay

we followed the sunset
from the east coast to the sea
and watched it fall away


I ran across this post from January that I had previously liked very much. It touched on something very dear to me—the plight of immigrants and minorities who are threatened in the present “Neo-Democracy” that is promising to reshape our country into a form it has not seen since before the Civil Rights Acts of the 1960s. It is longer than anything I’ve posted recently, but please take the time to read it through. It would be difficult to find better words of advocacy for the hard work of the people that built this country and their plight today. ~Pablo Cuzco

Posted on January 26, 2017 by Holistic Wayfarer June 2014 June 2014

Deeply troubled by the reports of violence against the Jews in Europe, Gil Kraus decided to rescue children from the clutches of Nazi Germany. His posh home and successful law practice in Philadelphia were treasures he could let go. Even with two kids, 13 and 9 – and perhaps because of them – he was willing to confront danger for families suffering terror. His wife Eleanor, won over to his vision, prepared affidavits from people who signed on to help support the kids financially. When she Continue reading

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