jeff goins - beginning to end

8/6/2019 Jeff Goins - Beginning to End

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Jeff Goins

Beginning

to

End


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This book takes a look at the question, the belief, and the

development of faith through self-empowerment.

We have believed many things.

Some we have decided were wrong to believe. Some we still

believe are true. The only way to find out what is real is to try it

and see what happens, and to ask questions of those who would tell us that

they know more than we and ask us to follow them, ask us

to give them our power.

Do we ~really~ want to do that?

Is it so easy to take anothers word that he or she is ~really~ more

in touch with God than you are?

From the shamans who said that only they were the ones who could hear the

voice of the creator to the televangelists who have a connection with God

that only your money can serve to bring His word to your ears.

The word to describe them all is Charlatan.

They ~really~ want what you have. Your time, your money, your faith, and

your power and theyre not opposed to asking for it all in the name of Godbecause they have already sold their souls.

With a little imagination and an open mind you can find whatever it is thats

out there all by yourself. If you ask the right questions and follow your own

path...

~really~


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Beginning to End Jeff Goins

The Beginning......................................................

4

Formation ............................................................. 5

In a Single Wink...................................................7

The Crag ............................................................... 8

Look at the Sunset ................................................ 9

In the Space between the Pauses...........................10

Invention............................................................... 11

Life Sentence ........................................................ 12

Creases..................................................................13

Take a Breath........................................................ 14

Meteor..................................................................16

Church and State...................................................17

Cryptic ..................................................................19

Menagerie ............................................................. 20

Poetry of Magic ....................................................21

Reason ..................................................................25

Shift to the Left.....................................................27

Teller of Tales.......................................................28

Climbing for the dream.........................................29

The Place .............................................................. 31

The End ................................................................ 32


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The Beginning

Helpless, the rain falls unstoppable to cool the fever that makes lakes

become black roads and turns strings of rhythm that hum and vibrate with thepulse into those that pulse on their own and organize into ambulating thinkers,

thinking of ambulating and focusing on their sole concern of making more of

those who become breathers of air that fills with shapes and colors and motion

that flits and blurs with rapid, multi-faceted eye movement, hovering over is-

lands that bear the footfall of droves seeking safety from hunters in the green

and black chasing and consuming their own so they may continue hunting andwith a snap ending others quest for safety in dry numbers along the line be-

tween wet and dark and arid and bright and the waves were warm on their

backs as the wind caressed open minds behind eager faces that looked only to

whats ahead from the fifth point on the undiscovered wheel that pointed to-

ward horizons still liquid, still settling, still cooling, still yet to be still, yet tobe solid, yet to fulfill promise of countless things growing and boiling from

blindness to light, silence to sound, cold to warm upon boulders yawning up

from liquid depths to take their place among the others who keep steadfast

watch over the surface of slowly slowing mass, exploding with breath gasping

for another as rain spills helplessly on their faces while they look up into water

falling to drown them in their own unknowing, seeking answers to what forces

are making it all happen.


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Formation

That which we cannot see

An invisible giant looming before us isWhere lines are drawn and points made

From where gods stride and skies explode

A gentle hand the size of all creation extendsFrom a point smaller than an atom could see

Dominoes begin to fall in a nebulous tsunami

Balancing law and chaos at the star's heart

Heavens where man cannot touch open up

To dust and Promethean fire laden

And radiating the stuff of life eternalA voice cries "Let there be life" from the void

A voice cries "Let there be life" from the void

And radiating the stuff of life eternal

To dust and Promethean fire laden

Heavens where man cannot touch open up

Balancing law and chaos at the star's heart

Dominoes begin to fall in a nebulous tsunami

From a point smaller than an atom could see

A gentle hand the size of all creation extends


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From where gods stride and skies explode

Where lines are drawn and points madeAn invisible giant looming before us is

That which we cannot see


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In a Single Wink

In a single wink we carry off to the place we were when shadows fell,

In shades of green and scents of autumn rain,This old dog pulls against his rusty chain.

With a doughty sigh I rise again to the toning of the morning bell,

As fractal falls the white and perfect snow,This old song starts the loop with a new tempo.

As dreams are for living and lights are just for turning out,

The soul lifts up to greater things, leaving just the shell to doubt,

And time keeps dragging us along,

Until the final curtain proves us wrong.

So cumbersome can this world be when squarely on the shoulders lie,

An obtuse ball, illogical it turns,

The spring gives rise to thoughts of fresh concerns.

A gesture of a friendly hand is missed to eyes of blinded sight,

Loud words fall like feathers on deaf ears,

How much weve missed unknown in all these years.

And in one final offering,

The plate is passed from saint to saint,

A place in heaven seek to buy,Or just another coat of paint.


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The crag

Wind blows patterns of time across vast expanses of thought enrapt

canvas of seamless dreaming flowing around warm nearnessthat loving old storm on a dark sea cradles and toss

bend away

the pull that does not hunger no matter how many times you jump

jangles in jesters robes just out of sight but not out of reachleaving behind a scent that cascades through the fence wires

spark

that memory, that single nail of clarity bent at the knee holds you

so you can see the long and wistful yearnings of ancient marble

standing at the head of the river holding enemies at bay

welcoming

arms that do not take root safely draw you in the paper tablean image of flesh and blood with sweat and fine table manners

fit perfectly though there are no bounds that can measure

harmony

A moment of peace cannot evade even the darkest whisper

flitting around the rows just below the skin drumming softly

as the feral dove eludes the grasping noble flame

lighting

take my breath with you as you climb another rung

fear has no place in the heart of a sharpened edge

pointing a clean and burning path through the oncoming

stand.


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Look at the sunset,

Feel the small thing crawl across your skin

When the light finally gives in to its hungerOther things come out for theirs.

The ground is hard

Taste the salt that builds up on the leaves,

Life has a funny way about it


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In the space between the pauses

Just beyond the edge

where light meets feelingsa glimpse, a shadow, motion

below floors above ceilings

a sound amid ambiencein space between pauses

a voiceless breath rumored

before and after clauses

The harder is the focus

the lesser is the vision

when movement bisectsa fight flight decision


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Invention

I sat and imagined

There was nothing there

Things were moved and shaped

put together in an order

it began to work

one part moved into one and

out of another

coalescing, harmony, discord, performing

nothing was there

but I sat and imagined.


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Life sentence

Mind over matter is the building blocks of the brain power comes from astrong mind your manners are taught to the brain food for thought control your

minds eye witness the power of the mind the stores of electro-chemical pro-

cesses the cerebral flow through the oxygen-rich blood veins in the brains

synaptic nervous systematic cleansing old thoughts for new memories of a time

long forgotten by the inner mind your Ps and queues the lights are on but no

one is home is where the heart is where the brain is connected to the limbichighway, flowing along with base instincts tell us when our brain doesnt know

when to fire those neurons when they arent working like they should retire

because they are brain cells after alls said and done, a mind is a terrible thing

to wasteland of mental instabilitys major contributor is knowing but not feel-

ing because imagination is more important than knowledge of ones self imageis all perceived and thus entirely mental institution whose foundations are mar-

ble, flesh, electricity, and cant be touched in the head as nerves fire from the

fingertips, sending sensation to the brain that invents experience, and makes us

believe that its all tangible and that reality might be more than merely a theory

that we all agree on as we see things change and have no ideas on how to make

it stop so we can get off and think about it and maybe write a poem if youdont mind.


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creases

In the creases crawl invisible life is

stared upon by horn-rimmed glasses and

passed over by higher-ups

absently destroyed by vapid page turners who

look for a cure for

obscurity among the books written by

other page-turners seeking a cure for

loneliness to sell to

those in search of

answers in black and white on

pages upon pages of

empty memoirs written to

fill a void outside of


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Take a breath

The words are on the inside

waiting to be spoken

will you share

Take a breath

the words need fuel to ignitetake shape in the gasses

forced in physics

The time is nearing

pressure builds from the deep

upward to fill the mechanical

the piston driving out the air

taking words along for the ride

But aside from the solid

the gas and the real

what made those tiny bits of your soul

want to be made real

want to make them real

become part of the whole

You could keep it in

make us laugh

make us angry or confused


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make us look at you in awe

reveal yourselfturn you inside out for our inspection

will your force build a bridge

So take a breath

Get ready to spill out

set the cords in motionshape the air that moves between

punctuate with muscle and will

sculpt meaning out of nothing but energy

that blows waves into the ether

and reveals you to us.


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Meteor

Dusty lace and unlit candles / give one pause beyond the door

Rusty mace heads without handles / pull the earlobes to the floor

Metal torn and empty dripping / paints the scene and old brown stain

Petal borne in cup for sipping / leeched out pale in boiling rain

Wear your best old comfy thunder / as it quickly climbs the stairs

Bearing dressed up motions under / all the black robes that it wearsHow your sum in fields of clover / blows the leaves across the grain

Flowers come and now youre under / theres no grieving through the pain

Brandy wine in crystal fluted / raised the toast toward the sky

Handy vine around throats muted / grapes in earnest red and dry

Beveled mirror held by wishes / wall of brick dust holds the line

Devilled clearer eggs in dishes / pick the fruit from off the vine

Draw the points, all five in number / circle round the magic shield

Saw the joints but not all lumber / dig it deep out in the field

Weather sings of nights foreboding / spill it red and start the test

Leather wings from peaks eroding / comes he now to claim the quest


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Church and State

Theres supposed to be a separation of church, honest and forthright,

interested only in the well-

being of the souls of the people, and state, noble anddignified, caring for naught but leading the people into a better future, but no

one seemed to inform the church that somewhere between their demograph-

ically improved image (chosen by only the most finicky of holy focus groups)

of Christ thats both approachable andjudgmental and the plausible deniabilityof the priests with lifetime memberships to NAMBLA because one really isnt

gay (that would be evil (though evilis a subjective metaphor and shouldnt betaken literally) and wrong and subsequently un-priest-like) if ones lover has

yet to hit puberty and the televangelists who lovingly bestow Christs blessings

to the poor (on His behalf, like they had a meeting and He okayed the prosti-

tute patronizing suits to go ahead and speak on His behalf as duly designated

representatives of the kingdom of heaven, as if they had even the smallestchance of getting there in one of their custom-pimped leer jets purchased with

the cash sent in by elderly ladies and gentlemen who seek to assuage guilts of a

former fast life and insure their seat next to God himself with the money that

probably should have gone to pay for more worldly items such as food and

medicine that might have helped them live longer and subsequently be denied

the American right of getting into paradise (though thatssuch a muslim wordhere of late) just a little bit longer) who buy these loving, caring ladies and

gentlemen of the pre-recorded clergy their new Rolls-Royces, suits (for the

men), dresses (for the ladies or gentlemen), rings, bangles, baubles, menser-

vants, expensive houses perched on even more expensive hills, because God

likes riches, and the richer Gods house, the better heaven will be, with itscrystal chandeliers and marble floors that simply scream of custom


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Zamboni machines with disco balls equipped with anti-Satan lasers and the

best techno music money can buy, because after all Rick James and Billy Pres-

ton are both dead and theres no better conductor than the Big Guy Himself,

but He doesnt come cheap.


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Cryptic

We often ask, where is He?

Is He up in the canopy, high above our prying eyes?

Or beyond that?

Just a glimpse would be enough for some.

From antiquity to now we have looked for just one sign.

For a sign that He is there or not.Either would satisfy the curiosity of those

who continually prostrate their logic in insecurity with their faith.

to seek out one they cannot see,

whom they KNOW is there,

just to test them,

maybe to judge them.

Many need only to know that it is unknown and appreciate this aspect.

Faith:

To believe without really knowing,

or to believe you know without really learning

the location of He who eludes us is the consummation of the dream


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Menagerie

A pocket full of essential philosophy

girds the spirit of a room full of pockets

essentially spiriting philosophical pockets

of girded rooms full of spirits of philosophy

pocketing essence of girded spirits

full of philosophy of rooms full of

spirits of philosophy girding essences

of full pockets well rounded.


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Poetry of magic

Hear me now all ye spirits,

earth and sky

ground and wind

stone and heaven

Hear me now all ye spirits,

sea and flameocean and inferno

fire and tide

I call on your essence, your vital energies

the power of creation that dwells deep

and eternal in the core of your being,

heed my words for I am the culmination

of the universal mind,

the realized dream of the everlasting creator

and the opus of the perpetual

I call on you to heed my words in the names

of all spirits holy and pure

every entity beneficent and true

all beings living, non-living, and never ending,

good and kind.

Awake, arise, come to my aid.

dark things walk among us,


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we, who balance the universe

with goodness and evildarkness and light

hatred and love

need thy

aid.

Things whose souls are rent and restlesstorn and errant

spoiled and searching

for things they can no longer attain

seek to destroy the harmony of the world

the balance of the universe,

and the essence within my own being.

I ask only that you lend to me

the power to defeat and vanquish

the dark and vile spirit within me

banish the malignant being that curls around my soul

the foul essence that seeks to taint my own

with promises that tempt

secrets that should not be told

and thoughts that bring nothing

but ruin and decay to my life

and everlasting and immortal soul.

Come


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Come

Come

Come to me

Come to me

Come to me

Come into meCome into me

Come into me

Come

Come

Come

In a form fair and comely

until I dismiss you.

Fill me with your power

guide me with your wisdom

teach me with your lore

so that I may restore the balance

that other things, black and vile

have sought to ruin.

In the name of all spirits holy and pure

The eternal lords and ladies of air and heavens


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The ancient giants of earth and stone

The everlasting rulers of water and waveand The undying masters of fire and flame

I beseech, implore, and beg of thee

to hear my words and do my bidding.

so mote it be.

so mote it be.so mote it be.


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Reason

Tied my shoes, brushed my hair, my teeth, introduced me to en pas-santand the fifth parallel, walked me along the fence and drew the diamond,

asked me why I was so young when I started liking girls, threw rocks in the

river, aimed the gun, threw the knife and made it stick, guided the chainsaw

and the axe, brewed the tea, lit the fire, turned the key, read the books, told me

to ignore the ghosts, the pain, the insults, the meanness in others, in myself, my

hunger, my greed, that look, those words, the stares and glances, the memories,

the dark, told me to focus in the stars, the Earth, the moon, my weight, my

love, the words, the steps, the stairs, which doors to lock, which to leave open,to walk through, close, what to do to grow, to heal, when to speak, when not

to, who to talk to, not to, when to keep going, where to stand, scratch, when,

where, and why not to, upon which foe at what time to perform a pointa rever-

so and with what, explained that there might not be a God, that there is, isnt,is, isnt, definitely probably is, or not, has to be, keeps me warm, drives me

home, to school, did not stick the knife through my hand, drove me to the hos-

pital, drove me to the hospital, drove me to the hospital, drove me to the hospi-

tal, and back to heal, kept my hand immobile, squeezed the ball, flexed my

fingers, kept the gun out of the other hand, did not choose the girl but chose

how to stay with her, did not make me make music, made me make music,

practiced, practiced, put out the fire, practiced, opened the book, pointed me atBoyd, Bachelor, Culler, Irvin, McGuffey, Mosler, Phelps, Peabody, King,

Shriver, Parrish, Rentschler, and Wilkes, put my pipe in a drawer forever, kept

me awake, made me go to bed, changed their diapers, or fed them, or burped

them, or held them, could not tell which cry meant which need, made many

wrong choices, bad choices, poor choices, dark choices, human choices, unfor-

tunate choices, sad choices, light choices, wondrous choices, good choices,


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right choices, choices that made no difference whatsoever, hated, loved, hunt-

ed, killed, killed, saved, stayed the hand that held the blade before he bled too

much to be spared, ran the juice clear, ate it with the legs on and the shell, spit

out the seeds, ignored the rinds, the stems, cut the stems for a longer bloom,

wondered why they had to be killed to be pretty, suggested I opened that door

again, close that one, closed the book when no more information could be ab-

sorbed frustrated me, elated me, made me cry, made me laugh, explained the

extraneous bombastic circumlocution joke, said Elven and Klingon ARE real

languages, fought the dragon and the pisces in me, still does, cursed my rash-

ness, asked why I choked him almost to death, cursed my procrastination,could not understand why I wait to write those papers, read those texts, fix that

broken hinge, change those spark plugs, unclog that sink, repair that hose, trim

out those windows, reinstall the OS on that computer, do whats asked of me

until its almost too late, explained why I bake the bread myself, that it is God,

slid the razor against the grain, makes sure the steak is pink and the burger is

not, took the bottle out of my hand, took the desire out of my head, relaxed the

fist, taught my children Aikido, tiger kung fu, and Kendo, explained everything

but sometimes lied, sometimes misled, sometimes deceived, cradled my mind,

broke my heart, made me look down, up, told me it was okay to watch one

more episode, play one more game, eat one more scoop, drink one more glass,

sleep one hour, miss it, make it up later, hate him, forsake her, break it, keep itin, turn it up and sing loud, sing loud, think silently and not speak at all, sug-

gested that those ghosts dont exist, how they had to be real, that there is no

such thing as different human races, there is no speciation, did not explain why

and how immigrants are bad and can be illegal, proved it was selfish by always

trying to tip the scales toward itself, admitted that it wasnt always right in its

methods and urged me to follow my heart.


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Shift to the left

In a year or so,

Time has passed

Linear as the crow flies

Narrow as the lions heart at harvest

Having taken everything you could

Take one more for the causeleave nothing

Do not adjust your weight to the gone

Silence deafens the verbose

There is no darkness

Drain that which fills you with it

Lock the tap and the Tao.

the beauty in virtue all but ruin

the vain of spirit

the egoist sitting like first chair

stoking self with horsehair and

shoulder freckles the size of dinner plates

covering the head with ointment

and lauds scraped from old papers

take one more for the cause -

leave nothing,

Do not adjust your weight to the gone

T ll f l


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Teller of tales

In a place where things dont move like in other places

Sits a small piece of time, looking inward at itself

Worrying that it might be forgotten in other places

That move in steps quickly and with purpose

From the past of long cool nights and narrow escapes

To one possible future of the unthought and newLinear and unswerving but not in the event horizon

Where small dreams linger almost out of reach

Not really wanting to get away from the dreamer

But being pulled by the inevitability of vacuum

Where thoughts and dreams go to play

When loosed by the children who give them life

It worries that the child that lived through it

Might not come back for a spell and sit

And maybe relive the moment that it is

In its small place where things move otherwise

Where chunks of other things can reside alone

Or with others like themselves or unlike

Where time curves and light bends so slightly

In a jumble of blue and purple and red

Like crayons the colors mingle and merge

Like thoughts things connect and divide

Resting only when the aged and white-haired child

Comes back again to sit a spell and think.

Cli bi f th d


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Climbing for the dream

When in pursuit of lifelong dreams do I

Hang loosely from those dreams like rotting rope,

To most intently stand and crucify

Illusions of all self respect and hope.

To dream, to follow and to long aspire

Can lead you to your altar dressed in white,

To kneel before the gods of fate and fire,

And pray to let the dream live one more night.

But dangle as I may above the plights

Of wasting all a life for just one thing,

I climb the rope to self destructive heights

And hope the dream will soon for me take wing.

Th d t li di I h th f t


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The dream to live or die I choose the fate,

I make the choice, above the altar wait.

The place


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The place

Theres a place

it waits silent as stone

patient as the earth

numb as old ice

I pass over the spotyou know it

one just like it waitsfor your arrival

It could be anywhere

you choose locale

it waits mutely

as its avoided

Dark its smile

deep its secrets

cold its offerings

eternal its promise.

The End


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The End

In the end are we just dreaming?

In the end do we go?

In the end does something beckon,

Like the coming of the dawn?

In the end are we delivered?

In the end does something call?Is the end just a beginning?

In the end do we just fall?

What is that twinkling in the corner of your sparkling eye?

Essence incorporeal, or reflections of a lifetime passing by?

Spinning illusions as eternally through space we fly?

Images to be seen if the mind would only open up its eye.

Are we the products of the procreation of our kind?

Or are we each an aspect of the single universal mind?

Utter genetics and experiences intertwined,

Inside a temple bearing one new soul to which it is assigned.

Is that a soul departing as the final breath is through,

Or is it just evaporation of the mornings dying dew?

Cellular degeneration creeping up on me and you

The downy evidence in telling where the fledgeling angels flew.

jeff goins - beginning to end

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