Beginning

to

End

Jeff Goins
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 another’s 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 they’re not opposed to asking for it all in the name of God
because they have already sold their souls.
With a little imagination and an open mind you can find whatever it is that’s
out there all by yourself. If you ask the right questions and follow your own
path...
~really~

2
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

3
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 the
pulse 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 and
with 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
what’s 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 to
be 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.

4
Formation

That which we cannot see

An invisible giant looming before us is
Where lines are drawn and points made
From where gods stride and skies explode

A gentle hand the size of all creation extends

From 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 eternal
A 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

5
From where gods stride and skies explode
Where lines are drawn and points made
An invisible giant looming before us is
That which we cannot see

6
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 we’ve 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.

7
The crag

Wind blows patterns of time across vast expanses of thought enrapt

canvas of seamless dreaming flowing around warm nearness
that 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 jester’s robes just out of sight but not out of reach
leaving 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 table
an 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.

8
Look at the sunset,

Feel the small thing crawl across your skin

When the light finally gives in to its hunger
Other 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

9
In the space between the pauses

Just beyond the edge

where light meets feelings
a glimpse, a shadow, motion
below floors above ceilings

a sound amid ambience

in space between pauses
a voiceless breath rumored
before and after clauses

The harder is the focus

the lesser is the vision
when movement bisects
a fight flight decision

10
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.

11
 Life sentence

Mind over matter is the building blocks of the brain power comes from a
strong mind your manners are taught to the brain food for thought control your
mind’s 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 brain’s
synaptic nervous systematic cleansing old thoughts for new memories of a time
long forgotten by the inner mind your P’s and queue’s the lights are on but no
one is home is where the heart is where the brain is connected to the limbic
highway, flowing along with base instincts tell us when our brain doesn’t know
when to fire those neurons when they aren’t working like they should retire
because they are brain cells after all’s said and done, a mind is a terrible thing
to wasteland of mental instability’s major contributor is knowing but not feel-
ing because imagination is more important than knowledge of one’s self image
is all perceived and thus entirely mental institution whose foundations are mar-
ble, flesh, electricity, and can’t be touched in the head as nerves fire from the
fingertips, sending sensation to the brain that invents experience, and makes us
believe that it’s 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 you
don’t mind.

12
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

13
Take a breath

The words are on the inside

waiting to be spoken
will you share

Take a breath
the words need fuel to ignite
take 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

14
make us look at you in awe
reveal yourself
turn 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 motion
shape 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.

15
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 wears
How your sum in fields of clover / blows the leaves across the grain
Flowers come and now you’re under / there’s 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 night’s foreboding / spill it red and start the test
Leather wings from peaks eroding / comes he now to claim the quest

16
Church and State

There’s 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 and
dignified, 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 that’s both approachable and judgmental and the plausible deniability
of the priests with lifetime memberships to NAMBLA because one really isn’t
gay (that would be evil (though evil is a subjective metaphor and shouldn’t be
taken literally) and wrong and subsequently un-priest-like) if one’s lover has
yet to hit puberty and the televangelists who lovingly bestow Christ’s 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 smallest
chance 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 that’s such a muslim word
here 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 God’s house, the better heaven will be, with its
crystal chandeliers and marble floors that simply scream of custom

17
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 there’s no better conductor than the Big Guy Himself,
but He doesn’t come cheap.

18
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 flame
ocean 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,

21
we, who balance the universe
with goodness and evil
darkness and light
hatred and love
need thy
aid.

Things whose souls are rent and restless

torn 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 me
Come 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

23
The ancient giants of earth and stone
The everlasting rulers of water and wave
and 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-
sant and 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, isn’t,
is, isn’t, 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 at
Boyd, 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,

25
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 what’s asked of me
until it’s 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 it
in, turn it up and sing loud, sing loud, think silently and not speak at all, sug-
gested that those ghosts don’t 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 wasn’t always right in its
methods and urged me to follow my heart.

26
Shift to the left

In a year or so,
Time has passed
Linear as the crow flies
Narrow as the lion’s heart at harvest
Having taken everything you could
Take one more for the cause
leave 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

27
Teller of tales

In a place where things don’t 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 new
Linear 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.

28
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.

29
 The dream to live or die I choose the fate,

I make the choice, above the altar wait.

30
The place

There’s a place
it waits silent as stone
patient as the earth
numb as old ice

I pass over the spot

you know it
one just like it waits
for your arrival

It could be anywhere
you choose locale
it waits mutely
as it’s avoided

Dark its smile

deep its secrets
cold its offerings
eternal its promise.

31
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.

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