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Exchange of Values

Exchange of Values
acrylic on board 48'X96'

"Structure of Color Perception"

"Structure of Color Perception"
48'X96' acrylic on board

Sunday, December 10, 2017

"He's a bandit and a heartbreaker.
Oh, but Jesus was a cross maker"

From a poet/songwriter I admire greatly and a dear sister who died young. I use to play a couple of her songs. Once a young armed robber and sex-worker she learned music and Jesus in jail. She asked some difficult questions and she suffered greatly, eventually dying of a heroin overdose. Thank you for your words and music. May you always be in blessing. 

Sweet silver angels over the sea
Please come down flyin' low for me
One time I trusted a stranger
Cuz' I heard his sweet song
And it was gently enticin' me
Tho there was somethin' wrong
But when I turned he was gone

Blindin' me, his song remains remindin' me
He's a bandit and a heart breaker
Oh, but Jesus was a cross maker

Sweet silver angels over the sea
Please come down flyin' low for me

He wages war with the devil
A pistol by his side
And tho he chases him out windows
And won't give him a place to hide
He keeps his door open wide

Fightin' him he lights a lamp invitin' him
He's a bandit and a heart breaker
Oh, but Jesus was a cross maker

Sweet silver angels over the sea
Please come down flyin' low for me

I heard the thunder come rumblin'
the light never looked so dim
I see the junction git nearer'
and danger is in the wind
And either road's lookin' grim

Hidin' me, I flee, desire dividin' me
He's a bandit and a heart breaker
Oh, but Jesus was a cross maker
Yes, Jesus was a cross maker
Yes, Jesus was a cross maker
Sweet silver angels over the sea
Please come down flyin' low for me
One time I trusted a stranger
Cuz I heard his sweet song
And it was gently enticin' me
Tho there was somethin' wrong
But when I turned he was gone
Blindin' me, his song remains remindin' me
He's a bandit and a heartbreaker.
Oh, but Jesus was a cross maker

Sweet silver angels over the sea
Please come down flyin' low for me

Blessings and obliged.

Wednesday, June 28, 2017

Judith Beheads Holofernes. Artemisia Gentileschi. c,1638.

*Biblical story—Possible Trigger Warnings.

“Judith Beheads Holofernes.”
From the Book of Judith: Ch.16, Vs. 2-11.

The proud king bragged
Borders would be set on fire
All disloyalty would be punished
He would make prey of infants
Take virgins captive

But YHWH struck him down
Not by the strength of men
Nor by the proud sons of Titan
Nor by tall giants
But by courage and beauty

Judith’s vanquishing face
Anointed with sweet oils
Locks adorned as a crown
Sandals dazzling like precious gems
Robes of golden deception
Her beauty took his heart captive

And with a sword she cut off his head.

*(Artists have made many depictions of this biblical scene but I admire this 1638 version by Artemisia Gentileschi most. That’s her holding the sword. Understandably many have been quick to read into this shocking picture a visual response to her oppression by her father, her rape by her art teacher, and her subsequent torture by authorities during her rape trial).

Sunday, May 28, 2017

 “If they drive God from the earth, we shall shelter Him underground.” Mitya to Aloysha.  Book XI.

Saturday, February 18, 2017


By age 2 we were artists;
Poets by 3
At 4 we discovered un-seen worlds
Turning 5 we could fly 
But 6 meant school, rulers, visibility, work, mirror-gaze;
Leaving our wings behind us

Late afternoon
Soon children will be home from class
Each day small parts of them disappear
Multiply and divide into others
Even as they grow into bigness
We shall not come to know love by the pound
But by the mile

Love from grandpapa kids <3 nbsp="" p="">

Tuesday, January 17, 2017

I'm trying out a new writing style: Action Sci-Fi & Fantasy in Space.

“Imagine the amazing good fortune of the generation that gets to see the end of the world,
This is as marvelous as being there in the beginning.” Jean Baudrillard.

*Deep Space 9 1/2 weeks.*

Scene: Chief of Security charges into the command bridge shouting excitedly:
   “Captain somehow a chimpanzee has escaped the science lab.”
     “Look out!” shouts the First Officer, “he’s gotten ahold of a loaded pistol!”
       “Who brings a gun into space,” asks the Weapons Officer alarmed,
         “One shot would pierce the hull and doom us all to a hideous death.”

Right then the chimp took off his space-diaper and started peeing all over the captain’s chair.
   “Ha ha, at least nobody’s bored anymore.” Joked the Second Officer
      “Especially after so much hyper-sleep,” added the Ensign.
 “Can’t we all just agree to get along?” The Star-Navigator pleaded.
      “Living in a space ship is really dull and this chimp is entertaining.”
        “Even funny sometimes.” Crew person #2
          “When he’s not masturbating.” Crew person #3
             “Or pointing his gun at us.” Crew person #2

   “Who knows,” The ships chaplain prayerfully offered
      “Maybe its God’s will that the chimp got this gun?”

   “Yes.” Nodded the first-mate, “and we’d all be safer if everyone on board had guns too.”

    “Maybe we should just make the chimp captain,” added the second-mate laughing.
     “That would teach those snobby suits back at corporate a lesson.”

Many of the crew nodded their heads in agreement and smiled at the chimp with approval;

   “Thats madness,” the Science Officer argued through clenched teeth.
   “Let’s take a vote,” suggested the Second-Officer.

Thursday, December 15, 2016

I have been posting through Brother Christophe’s surviving journal from Tibhirine in one of my old Facebook posts and todays entry has has dwelled in my mind since first reading it months ago.

10/23/1993. The 23rd. from Brother Christophe.

I warn you: I am
going through you I go before you and
I breathe into you the Way
and oblige you in truth.
I baptize you with myself on the cross
take my I love you
be me

Many of my recent media feeds attend to the terrible death and destruction in Aleppo Syria. I remember when Algerians were suffering in a similar way in the 90’s. Around the time of the massacre of the Monks of Tibihirine we were visiting France and there was great consternation in Paris about how to deal with this new phenomenon of 'islamic terrorism’ and the murder of innocents in France’s former colonies. Many called for renewed military involvement and air strikes. Anti-Muslim persecution and demonstrations were becoming more common. I sense now that even among my Christian friends there is frustration and despair and perhaps an acceptance or desire for some overwhelming violent force to stop these calamities in Aleppo and elsewhere. I suppose we might want to believe that this imaginary force could be both perfectly just, totally compassionate, and absolutely discriminate, and that only evildoers will be killed and all innocents will be spared.    That is a false hope.

I warn you: I am
going through you I go before you and
I breathe into you the Way
and oblige you in truth.
I baptize you with myself on the cross
take my I love you
be me

Its important to remember that its possible that the 7 Tibihrine monks were actually killed by Algerian soldiers fighting the monks captors. There is evidence that Christophe was killed during an Algerian Govt. helicopter strike on the rebel’s camp and that the survivors beheaded the monks afterward for propaganda purposes. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what the suffering people of Aleppo should do. I don’t trust the Russians, Syrians, the rebels, Turkey, Israel, or my own government. I say desperate prayers and Catholic relief services and others are doing good work among the refugees and need financial support, but its easy to fall victim to frustration and despair even/especially in the midst of our own relative security and well being. Today’s entry by Christophe is one of my favorites although I don’t understand it in any deep way. But those words “I breathe into you the Way,” have stuck with me the last few months and have been helpful during my own struggles so I made of them a short prayer for Aleppo as well as for my friends in need.

*May the god of love and peace breathe into us the Way*

I sometimes can imagine god responding to my call using parts of Christophe’s prayer:

I am
I breathe into you the Way
I oblige you in truth
I love you
be me


Monday, November 14, 2016

Dear Overlords. Merry Christmas! Once again all things have proceeded precisely as you have foreseen. In recognition of your recent victories and in a spirit of bi-partisan compromise I am offering your Trumpocalypse a fair chance of implementation to further facilitate the darkening of the world. In the first of many concessions I am offering to surrender my objections and authorize *God* to be allowed back into all public schools!  However, as per God’s usual practice God will remain quiet and invisible at God’s choosing. Students of course will now be allowed to pray ceaselessly as Jesus says, but also silently as he commands. God’s presence, though, will remain exempt from attendance at any private religious schools or christian-churches as is God’s custom.

*Note. This compromise does not entitle Trumpublicans to enlist their God in the following activities:
1. Any and all wars/police-actions/vigilantiism especially engaged in for the purposes of colonizing petroleum reserves and pipelines—foreign and domestic.

2. The Deportation/persecution of undocumented children and persecuted refugees back to whatever dangerous hell-hole usamerican policies/actions probably created for them in their homelands they are fleeing from (see 1. above ^^^). 

3. Denying/cutting health care services for the oldest, poorest, sickest, weakest, people among us (no need to stipulate God’s presence among these folks though, God is always among the least of these). So if you want to cut Jesus’s medicare Trumpublicans don’t expect God to whisper lottery numbers in your ears or smite the Pandoran Na’vi or their socialist puppet-masters for you.

4. No grafting of a human penis back onto God. We got this < > close to theologically excising that pesky thing once and for all, and no president, no matter how flacid, aught to attempt a re-erection. 

5. God will not empower/sanction any domination, exploitation, persecution by *WHITE* over any and all of the following:

a. BlackBrownoranyPeopleofanyColor.
b. AllOtheredQueerandTrans-persons.
c. Women.
d. Forests-OceansAllWildplacesunderoronthePlanetorintheSky.
e. Earth.
f. + Mars. (‘an ounce of prevention…. ‘ Let’s not let *WHITE* get a toehold anywhere else in the galaxy). 

*Note: by ‘WHITE’ I am not referring to color but rather to the modern ontological manifestation of *WHITE* understood as that signified entity which functions as the dominant death-dealing viral agency which seeks to control or destroy all flourishings of Being and wholeness throughout the cosmos—no offense to anybody).  

**Note to Overlords compiling warrants for removal of potential troublemakers to alt-Reich Evangelical re-educaton/extermination camps: the “Daniel Imburgia” tagged here is not ‘THE’ Daniel Imburgia you are looking for (although they are both *WHITE* so both are probably going to be ok as long as they keep their mouths shut). Really this Daniel was only in El Salvador in the 1980’s for the surfing and chicharrones, not to stir up revolution among the peasants against their usamerican backed death-squads. Nor am I responsible for how others interpret any of the crazy things I may have said after too many shots of  tequilas. In any event anything I ever wrote to anyone anywhere at any time has always been taken out of context or misinterpreted. And further, contrary to any (scant) evidence, I have lived most of my life in acceptable compliance and within the logics of exploitative commodity capitalism  :(  

Dear Overlords, do we have a deal?

Thank you for your consideration, your humbled and all too obedient servant, Daniel :(   

P.s. Are we really going to squeeze more blood from the poor in order to build yet a fourth *Death-Star?* Sure it creates jobs and stimulates the 1% economy but we gave the last three contracts to that “builder” from Queens and every one of the damn things had some fatal flaw and got itself blown up! How about an intergalactic hospital and recovery Star full of doctors, food, and puppies that travels about the cosmos healing and feeding people and patching up old planets that need repair after evicted tenants left the place trashed. Or maybe we could spend more money on…just a minute someone’s at the door……….

Saturday, November 5, 2016

No Country For This Old Man.

Facebook reminded me of this post from the election 4 years ago. This scene at the end of the movie/novel NCFOM provoked me and many to question again human freedom/agency and where god can be found in this broken death-dealing world.  Earlier in the novel McCarthy writes: “…Anything can be an instrument, small things. Things you wouldn't even notice. They pass from hand to hand. People don't pay attention. And then one day there's an accounting.  An after that nothing is the same. Well, you say. Its just a coin. For instance. Nothing special there. What could that be an instrument of? You see the problem. To separate the act from the thing. As if the parts of some moment in history might be interchangeable with the parts of some other moment. How could that be? Well, its just a coin. Yes. That's true. Is it?” (No Country p. 57).

But even though our coins have two sides and we label those sides various things like kick-off and receive, good and evil, life and death, it so often feels like I'm still just choosing between 2 different appearances of evil? When Jesus asked Jewish collaborators with the Roman empire to show him their coins, Caesar’s likeness may have only been on one side, but perhaps one of Jesus’ message was that the empire/death owned the whole coin no matter which side of it I choose? Bless you Carla Jean for your courage and wisdom.

(p.s. Death and coins ‘get here’ the same way as Caesar but there are other forms of Trinitarian life one may seek. Blessings.

Monday, October 17, 2016

 Zoopoetics X Theopoetics #5 

What If Derrida Was Right?

‘—I must make it clear from the start that
the dog I am talking about is a real dog
believe me, It isn’t merely the figure of a dog’
“The Animal That Therefore I am.”
What if Derrida was right
About all of it
What then

Jesus taught:
If any will follow
Let them deconstruct
Take up their cross
And follow, but

Its assumed “cross” is a synecdoche
Or metaphor whatever
Like when I say how much I *heart* my dog
“One of my family,” I claim
Thing is
If the house were on fire
And I could only rescue the child or the dog
I’d save the child

I discussed this with my dog
Dog said I was full of shit
My theology was anthropocentric
That I didn’t know what love was
—’Is all life sacred in god?’  Dog asked.

— ‘GOD!’
I challenged (playing devil’s advocate)
— ‘Which god is dog god?’
Dog (the animal that therefore he is) replied:
— ’is god all as one?’
I started to reach for my bible to proof-text
Hierarchies of creation and Patriarchal orders of obeisance
But just then my wife yelled down:
— ’You say something hon…?’
   — ’No dear…its just the dog…’
       — ‘Is he ok,’ she asked, ‘he sounds funny?’
I glare over at my smug Theravādanic mutt
— ‘I think somethings wrong with him,’ I yell back
   — ‘He may be going senile, he thinks he’s god’
— ‘Whaaat? Who thinks he’s god?’
   — ‘The DOG dammit he says he’s GOD!’
Dog said: — “I, god?”

Please love your dog with all your heart and soul
(but don’t let them get too fat)
Apologize to them every day
Because of their great compassion
They bear this immense burden for us
Our last connexion to the non-machine world
We’ve made enemies of all others
Dog carries this cross for us, and
They’re not the first creatures
Nor this the last cross
The whole world may be crucified

There are true believers
Who burn others
For speaking a participle of dogma otherwise
I don’t know how they would punish my Jesuit pooch
But my dog
Would run into a burning building to save my life
And so did god

(Daniel Imburgia is an un-aspiring poet living on Whidbey Island. A writing teacher once called him a ‘sloppy angst riddled sentimentally Roman Catholic overly didactic existentialist,’ causing Daniel to cry, take up smoking french cigarettes, and begin wearing a beret to hide his baldness. like that little Jewish boy who grew up in Algeria de-ciphering the Talmud, Daniel learned young that words burn—words are power). Shalom.