On having something to say

Or,

Who am I?

Well, we did it again. 20X2 ver 3.5 went off great. Big Thanks go out to all who attended and all who helped out, we could never have dome it without you guys, and we love you all. Kevin and I have often said that the event is really about the people who speak, not about us, and we believe it more every time we do it.

Thing is, this time, it was a least a little about me. I was "Speaker number 1!". For posterity, here's a bit of what I had to say.

At City Lights, Monday Morning
a poem by Jeffrey Rider

Who am I?
I ask myself this as I
sit at a window
In what is, to me
A Holy Place.
I can feel tears inside my face.
As I sit at this small black table
Surrounded by books and shelves of books
A man in a blue shirt ascends
He does not disturb my search
My questioning.
A yellow strip of plastic
like police tape, flutters
It cares not who I am.
Now blue shirt crouches
near my thought.
He disturbs my search for self
but only briefly.
He is not offensive, just too close.
He retreats, and I ask again,
Who am I?

Like the Ghosts of the Gods
of this Holy Place,
Fluttering around my ears,
Capering in and out of
Thick yellow unevenly cut pages?
Do I aspire to
their divinity?
That was the goal.
but is it in me?
is it innate?
is it real?
Am I waiting for it to emerge
Or do I seek out who I am
by writing?
At times, I feel I have
given up
sold out
sold myself short.

But as I sit,
writing
warmed by the sun through
the window
of this Holy Place
Where I returned by train
by foot
by memory
by instinct
I read and write and ask
Who am I?

Why is my name Jeffrey,
or Jeff
or Jefe?
Why?

That's why.

On Loss

or

The Man Comes Around.

.......And I heard a voice from amongst the beasts......And I looked and I beheld a pale horse and the man that sat on him was dressed as a Highwayman, though he was from hat to boot tip the whole in Black, and the name that sat on him was Cash, and wisdom followed with him......And he said unto me, unto all, "There's a man comin' round, takin' names. And he knows who to free, and who to blame. Everybody will be treated just the same. There'll be a Golden Ladder, hangin' down, When the Man Comes Around. Fear not the rider or the pale horse when they come for you. Fear not the place whence you will be taken, for there is happiness there, not strife. Know when you get there that the guy you are goin' to see is good, that his bounty overflows all you can imagine. Know that he is accepting of you, despite any acts of yours, save one. Know that he wants us all to get what he's sayin', people, and that he sends lots of people to say it lots of different ways. He sent me to sing my whole life, and I did, until the end. He sent us to create, to share, not to fight amongst ourselves. He cries out to you, Don't Take your Guns to Town. Don't wield them in my name. He says, learn to love in my name, in any form, not because you were told to , but because you feel it, brother. Put away your guns and your swords, respect each others life and each others ways. Gather together and sing songs, read poems, worship that which moves you, accept each other. Know that though I claimed to have shot a man in Reno, I have not fallen into a Ring of Fire. I no longer Hurt. I tried to sing and bring joy, and knowledge of pain and love and lust and things of man that He has given us, and those things will save you." ........And the Pale Horse turned, and the Man in Black rode on, though his words echoed in ears of all who heard his whiskey soaked voice......and he returned to the midst of the Beasts and smote them all with the might of his guitar and of his voice. Just to watch them Die.