Archive for December, 2016

Yet Another Page

Posted in Uncategorized on December 24, 2016 by dreamlanddancing

I have just now put all of my assembled poetry onto a separate page accessible from the “About” page.

It is entitled “Songs of Love from the Bottom of the Ocean, Within the Asylum, or Inside the Armory.”

It is something of a rough draft, and a few entries may yet be eliminated, but I thought I would put it out there while I am still working on it.

Most of it was written over the last four years except for “Spring Dream” and “What Have You Done with My Goddess?”.

I plan on assembling my collected essays on yet another page sometime in the future.

Otherwise, I have been told it is not very easy to access some posts from the archives; I have found it difficult myself, since I do not necessarily know when I may have posted a particular item.


Chazz Vincent




Morning Revelation

Posted in Crazy Zen Wisdom, Observations of a Recovering Buddhist, Uncategorized on December 24, 2016 by dreamlanddancing

How can this be?

I am looking at a drawer filled with about fifty-three unmatchable   black socks; some are more black, or more blue, or more grey/gray(?); no ribs, ribs that don’t match each other; high-tops, low-tops no tops; over the calf, below the calf.

All black.

All just slightly different enough for me to notice.

Where did they all come from?

Where did their mates go?

Is this some portent of what my life has become?…a series of flawed choices born of imperfect alternatives?

Despite this daily conundrum, I make the best choice I can, fearing that everyone will notice the source of my secret shame the minute I enter the room, only to arrive at work, and while crossing the parking lot to discover I am walking behind a woman who has unknowingly tucked the back of her dress into the top of her pantyhose.

Fortunately I know her well enough to avert her eventual humiliation and even try to dispel her embarrassment by showing her my mis-matched socks.

And at that moment I thought, naked or clothed most of us are too busy and preoccupied with our own real and imagined flaws to notice anyone else’s, and those who would call attention to our own faux-pas are only trying to divert attention away from theirs.

And if they did, I would have retaliated with a scathing critique of something I already knew they believed they were hiding from everyone else who already knew, deceiving only themselves in believing their subterfuge had worked.

(Somewhere within me I had developed a talent for noticing such things in case “I needed them later”, and it was quite liberating to give up that addiction.)

BTW: It’s the same mentality that provokes an entire nation’s government to stockpile enough nuclear and biological weapons to destroy the entire world seven times, monitor every electronic word or internet access we make and generally wipe their asses with the first amendment in the name of protecting our Freedom.

I don’t hate the government…but sometimes I think they are trying to take over the country…and if that statement doesn’t strike you as being tragically and ironically funny, I suggest you look up the phrase “…for and by the will of the people…”.

It’s contagious if you fall into that trap, but we have only ourselves to blame if we do.

Otherwise, who will protect us from our protectors? But ah!..I do digress!

The entire universe is a reflection of our own minds’ inventions.

You have the choice to put it all down.

Somehow, I had created those socks in order to force myself to notice something I already knew but refused to acknowledge.

Sayonara Zetsubou Sensei

(Goodbye Master of Dispair)

Chazz Vincent


PS: Almost every faith, race, or belief system on the planet celebrates any number of holidays over the course of this month and the next; wouldn’t it be great if for just sixty days we didn’t use our beliefs as an excuse to destroy or impugn everyone else’s?

“When you impugn, you hazard repugnant pugnacity.”

“…nemo me impune lacessit…”

(…and vice-versa…)

Sayonara y’all!


What’s in Your Wallet?

Posted in Uncategorized on December 21, 2016 by dreamlanddancing

Your Time

your Energy

and your Love

are the Currency of your Life.

Chazz Vincent

My Favorite Buddhist Joke

Posted in Uncategorized on December 20, 2016 by dreamlanddancing

(More observations of a recovering Buddhist)

I first heard this many years ago. It was funny then for an entirely different reason.

A man decides he wants to become a Zen Buddhist monk, so he goes off to devote his life to the pursuit of Buddhism.

He is interviewed for several hours by all the monks in the monastery, who tell him they will decide amongst themselves and for him to wait outside for their decision.

They finally call him in and tell him they admire his devotion and dedication, but they think it would be best if he went back into the world to get a life to give up.




How to Breathe Underwater

Posted in Uncategorized on December 19, 2016 by dreamlanddancing

(This is a re-blog I found while assembling my collected poems that deserved a second reading)

You were perched on your rock

when I came upon you,

ready to dive

into the water,


in the late mid-morning.

The sun had evaporated the morning dew

and the air was heavy with the vapor.

You tried to cover your nakedness

at first

but I was not the kind of gentleman to look away

once I had already recognized you first.

You seemed to sense that it was I

and your shoulders drooped

as your hands fell away

from your tender parts

with a soft, sweet sigh

and you smiled that smile

I hadn’t seen

in too many lifetimes to recall.

We later named that rock Reality.

I hadn’t planned on seeing anyone there

that day.

I thought it was my special place


You blushed and giggled

as you looked over your shoulder,

then winked

and dove right under.

I stripped and followed you right in.

I found you waiting for me there

very deep in the pond,

halfway to the bottom

where the water was still clear

and the sun shone down

illuminating us both,

our eyes open wide and

your smile so broad…

When we touched,

we kissed for so long

that you started to gasp

and struggle

to reach the surface,

clearly panicked…

afraid for your life.

I smiled and said

“What’s your hurry, my dear?”

“This is our dream you know…”

“Only a dream?”

you asked, almost tearfully.

“It’s all a dream of a dream

within a dream…

Now breathe in

and realize your true power.

After this we can fly

like Peter and Wendy

as naked as jaybirds

until we are dry…”

“…But only a dream?”

you repeated again,

and this time I really thought you would cry.

“What do you mean

only a dream?

Reality is for people who can’t handle


“You can live in fear

of what might happen

and chances are

nothing will.”

“Nothing at all…”


Swim with me.

Dream we are dolphins

until you learn to dream

of breathing underwater.

Fly with me.

Do not be afraid.

It isn’t the fall that hurts

it’s the sudden stop

at the end of the dream

we never want to end.

Stand on the edge of the volcano,

or swing on the swing

 at the end of the world

with me.

We can jump

or fly away as we choose.

We can do the Ghost Dance together in Dreamland

until the detonation

sweeps us all away.


Posted in Uncategorized on December 12, 2016 by dreamlanddancing

I once wrote a post here called “She Wants to be the Other Woman”.

It was written for Suki, my spouse and co-conspirator of over twenty years.

The mother of our three children.

She rarely writes at all anymore; she says it is just “not her thing” and although it was not her strongest skill, the inspiration, understanding and support she provided was a creative thing of beauty in itself.

She never got to enjoy the kind of creative banter or literary flirtatiousness that I have enjoyed with a number of fellow writers (and fellow travelers) who have inspired me in other ways.

I assumed she already knew, and enjoyed the companionship and intimacy not provided others who have inspired me, in much the same way as a wife is jealous of a mistress.

My real mistake was in not recognizing that she never felt she got the credit she deserved just for being there for me.

Favorite Poems #’s 1,2,6 and 9 were inspired by her.

We give to others according to their needs, as well as for what we get from them.

We all bring something different to this movable feast we call our lives, and nothing tastes better than it does when we hunger for it, and we will do more to get it when those hungers are not satisfied.

Her hunger was for recognition as well as acknowledgement. I regret not understanding that now, in retrospect.

Between Suki and Anastasia (sometimes literally) I drew inspirations I have learned to envy and miss in more ways than I could have imagined. It is not surprising that they developed the rapport that they found within each other that I was blessed to witness, and I share her nostalgia for that wonderful time in our lives together.

At least Suki is still here, although sometimes I feel like I was the consolation prize. The long gone Astral Traveler left without even saying goodbye, but I later learned that it was just her way of hoping we would leave the light on for her, because in truth, she always came and went as she pleased, and we loved her for it.

(We still do, by the way.)

She called me from somewhere in eastern Europe almost a year ago; she had been traveling with a techno EDM band that barely spoke any English at all, and I understand she is playing electronic percussion for them, which is quite amazing, since she never played the drums at all before, and often lamented that she always ended up with the guitarist even though she wanted the drummer.

Now she can be the drummer she always wanted, but never got.

Good for her.

To even know either of them was a blessing for which I  will always be grateful, but since I never seem to manage to say it…

Thank you Suki.

Dōmo arigatōgozaimashita, tsukimono suji no kimi.

どうもありがとうございました, 私の最愛の白い魔女

We miss you Anastasia, and yes we’ll leave the light on….

Chazz Vincent


Sayonara, y’all!


I’m Getting Published!

Posted in Uncategorized on December 10, 2016 by dreamlanddancing

Several months ago, I was invited to submit ten poems for publication. I believe I posted them here.

Hearing nothing, I assumed that I had not made the cut, and eventually forgot about it. In light of my long hiatus due to an injury that resulted in a near-fatal illness, it’s not that surprising.

Three days ago, the gentleman contacted me to let me know that I was accepted, and requested that I send a Bio, which gave me pause, since no one had requested one before.

It was requested to be within 150-200 words, which I soon realized was a new challenge, since I seem to find difficult to post anything less than ~2000 words.

I also soon realized that I wasn’t sure about what to write or how to say it…especially concisely.

I will post the details about the Who, What and Where in my next text, but I thought I would post the Bio here, just for S&G’s.


Chazz Vincent

Sayonara Zetsubou Sensei

PS: To those who contributed to the inspiration for several of the entries (My Muses), I wanted to say  a sincere thanks (I hope by now you know who you are). I love you.




Born in Charlottesville, Virginia in 1950, Chazz Vincent is a self-proclaimed “Post-Neo Dharma Bum”, part Mad Scientist turned philosopher, part semi-reformed Rocker turned Paramedic in Exile.

He has written two novels, one entitled Dancing in Dreamland and the other The Home for Wayward Souls and The Talking Monkeys, which he describes as “Enhanced and Fortified Non-Fiction”.

Both are available for free at

He is currently working on a novel entitled Once in a Blue Agave Moon.

A staunch advocate of Polyamory, self-medication, cannabis therapy, unlicensed but responsible personal and civil liberties, rational anarchy and civil disobedience, he now lives in relative seclusion in his “cabin in the woods” just walking distance from the lagoon where he fishes and less than two miles from the ocean.

His latest bi-line entitled Observations of a Recovering Buddhist is a re-thinking of a pursuit that defies either achievement or attainment, but rather the pursuit itself within the “ever-present, never-present, present moment” because “Enlightenment is not the ever-lasting kiss of True Love.”

His poetry ranges from esoteric, sometimes cryptic and enigmatic to visceral and explicit; a pure bad-boy romantic fool who proclaims “It is never wrong to tell someone I love you.”





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