Fuse

August 26, 2003

We are standing
before a gate,
On the edge
Of newness,
Holding hands.

All bodies desire
To merge with,
To fuse with
The core of every body
Within closeness,
Core within all cores.
This is the hidden secret
Of Gravity.
It is not a mere attraction
Of bodies…
Not sexual.
But this desire
Has been long
Thought of as impossible
In this reality of divisions…
Impossible
Because of unwillingness
To melt bodies and forms,
To melt through skin,
To melt beings
With the Other,
Going through layers,
Until cores fuse
Into just life.

But the time has come
For fusion,
A blend of explosions
And implosions
Outside of time and space,
Deep within our body,
Peeling away layers
By deep friction
Of warm love.
Time has come
To start to fade out
The reality of division
By lighting the fuse
Within the small hidden cave
Between our bodies,
Going within the warmth.

The reality of division
Started when the cell of Life
Divided and kept dividing.
This reality of difference
Released the possibilities
Of personal love and creativity,
The possibility of personal responsibility
And being in aware relationship
with THE OTHER.

But before the Pyramids…
A blink of an eye
Within an evolution…
The reality of division
Became CIVILIZATION,
Becoming a filter
Used by the elite
To turn evolution
Into progress
That benefited their
Empires of isolation.

Yes, we are standing
Before a gate,
On the edge of newness.
When we light the fuse
Within the hidden cave,
It will release unimagined
Possibilities.
It will release what has been
Locked up and away for so long.
Get the foot off the neck
Of dreams.
Get the weight of the world
Off the little kid’s back,
Release the deep beating heart
From the tight cage.
It may release blasts
Of tears, pain, joy, giggles.
It will release life
Full of wonder
deep inside our body.
Together we will take
The blasts within us,
Expanding us
In all directions.
We don’t even know
What fuse is.
It may not be any particular act.
We are just following it deeper,
Going past taboos,
Going beyond language…
Just going on a journey
Within between our bodies
Within our trust.
We will make our report
After we return
From the merge core,
And after we discover
A new language.

Life itself
Survives at all
Because of the secret journeys
Of the dismissed
Within small caves
Of love,
Personal trust,
And passion
Beyond taboo.

“Fuse”
A poem by Frank Moore
Read by Edna Floretta
Art/Animation by Michael LaBash
Music by Sander Roscoe Wolff
A segment from the web video series LET ME BE FRANK, Episode 10, “Theater of Melting”
Website for the series: http://frankadelic.com/
Watch episodes: https://vimeo.com/channels/letmebefrank

That Goddamn Weed of Life

by Frank Moore
November 28, 2002

That goddamn weed of life,
Green, yellow, purple,

cracking through the blacktop
in the park.
We don’t own it.
We own all life.
All life is our property…
Except weeds!

After the riots,
We put all living greens,
All living color,
Behind tall black iron fences.
Lovers, babies can’t lay on the grass,
No dreamers stretched out in fresh smells,
Looking up into the fluffy clouds of possibilities
Ever changing.

All of that was too dangerous.
Now we separate flesh
From life colors.
Now, walk or roll on blacktop,
Squint thru black bars
At grass, trees, flowers…
All at a safe distance…
Sit straight up on benches
With hard arms of separation,
Preventing love-making,
Sleeping…
Showing any tender pleasure.

All of that
Is kept in a safe distance
In the past
In this zoo,
In this gas chamber
Of a park…

All at a safe distance
Under control
Under lock and key…
Except for this goddamn weed of life
RIGHT THERE!
We sprayed it with poison,
Ripped it out,
Crushed it…
But it keeps coming back!

Doesn’t it know?
We own all life now.
It’s our personal property now.
We own the building blocks,
The dna keys of life…
Under our patents and copyrights.
We own the water.
We own the seeds.
We own the monopoly on life,
Hijacking evolution itself
Into the goal of profit.
We who sit in first class,
In box seats,
Behind oak doors,
Not to be seen.

WEEDS! WEEDS! WEEDS!
80 percent of all humans,
and of all life
are useless weeds,
to be ultimately destroyed
by all means necessary…
and in the meantime
to be contained within warehouses,
keep them moving from warehouse
to warehouse,
nomads without space
on blacktop
without water wells,
rain barrels,
farms of independence,
or music of a free soul.

We own the rights to all imagination
And dreams.
We hold all the cards!

So why is this goddamn weed
Cracking the blacktop?!
How come this single weed
is spreading unprocessed life
all around?

And the cracks
In the blacktop
Are spreading!