vt altars clark 5-2-11

7/28/2019 VT Altars Clark 5-2-11

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VT ALTARS 5/2/11 – What a Stranger May Know

Ryan Christopher Clark Play One

[Traveling Song] Two, twins. BryanOriginal: Landstuhl. Binary, GermanyLet him be two, two, two

Defunct gravityPlural heart, playing every drum part, he is up there. ThereIf you ever came from Germany then You came to be with me

One, two. The two tattoo, quality on paradePropertyIs holyWhen held in commonHow, young man, may we hold you?Wherever there is you, there is two, there is two

[Language] Then may I offer you please if you please, for you, in your name,

sincerely, yes I am I will. The softer part the better half out of the heat I remember you don’t

deny me the pleasure of this small service, please Lord use meup.

Yes ma’am, yes I am yes I will not against my will but my will ismatched drum for drum to that which –

Happily, you can get there, to joy by moving there, now. You havewhat you need.

Courteous kind obedient cheerful boy the way a cat falls asleep. Open.Exposed. The laid out status of vitality.

Out the door to find out. Scout. Morning is my left hand, night is myright. I throw a circle around knowledge and hold tight. Holdtight.

[Name]Hello, Ryan.Ryan, Bryan. Is. To. ForArc. StackRyan ClarkPlural inside. I – are



And the king you bearLarkOffer. OftenI live in a toy worldMan across a field

Ryan Clark is real

[Silence]Clark – mother – in school when deputy sherriff…“It was a horrible moment. I had to convince her it was real.”

[Motion]Golden Harvest Food Bank.

(Circle to arc.)

[Kuse]

Baritone in the Marching Virginians(MV’s) He’sPresident of “simple is good”

Down in the baritone You are not aloneAll for one for all for allWherever notes may fall They playPlay, play, playHo, Ho-Hokie

[Story]Bright light, big heart, once there was a man once there was a manwho – a counselor at Camp Big Heart. After a day, play, play, play;fireball sweet, carbon core ‘smores, ghost stories, fire low – you know if it has a heart in it, it’s going to be scary. Once. The young man ran andran, breathing, fall and his ear to the ground, he heard a beating, thecamp was a jewel on his mother’s throat, this was his mother’s breastand he lay asleep as a baby – the evil dream pursuing him flew byoverhead and furious at losing him lost track of time breaking apartforever on the sunrise. The young man awoke. Where the nightmare

was: a gap in his memory, no pain may enter there but also nomemory of the night; though he never is a baby again he keepscounsel at his mother’s breast, in silent post. They are alive in eachother in the note for note match of their hearts if not in words orthoughts or other smaller ways of knowing. You can close your eyesnow, head on heart and note for note with the secret heart that lovesyou.

VT Altars Clark 5/2/11

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[Prayer] That That I may serve There is more here than you knowMore than knowing gets from living

Baritone is my heart’s givingOver to the lover’ source of love.Certainly you can let go

Look, I just don’t knowLook: You will never know


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Ryan Christopher Clark Play Two

[Traveling Song] The brain is one way around the world

And life is everywhere around the worldAnd world is the word for the word we liveCome around, come around to what I know

“To know” breaks out to the “two-knot,” one and oneWhat I may hold and what I may not, Taken but not awayMay here in heart be here in factDrum match drum, beating down the lineWhat I lack and what I have, both are mineOne, two. The two tattoo, quality on parade.

PropertyIs holyWhen held in commonHow, young man, may we hold you?Wherever there is you, there is two, there is two

[Language]Scout a young man, thrifty. Why buy here; a dollar cheaper down the

street? Heaven’s less expensive than earth, has been paid for.One day in rain we will be free.

What are you doing here? What have you done? You cannot move me

from my purpose. I am my mother’s son.Look smart on a day like today, because it is a day, because it is today.

Sleeve creased to the cuff and a jolly-angle hat. Neat. Like that.We’ll trump the horses four for four with a fifth way through. Reason is

a fever but never is a fire. I need a more than a reason for all thislove I’m a bird without a wire. For you. Because you say so.Because love says so. Because love is a house, and a home is ahouse you obey. I trust you. Trust is prayer.

Brave clean and reverent.Out the door to find out. Scout. Morning is my left hand, night is my

right. I throw a circle around knowledge and hold tight. Hold

tight.

[Name]A clear arcSee twice, was-will, double rainbowRyan is a young man.Let the young man playHis middle name’s a prayer


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Let the man prayFrom Ryan, right through ChristopherDown to C-L-A-R-K Resident advisor – where do I live now, sir? Tell me about the world now, that I may serve, sir

Hello Ryan

[Silence]I had to convince her it was real.

[Motion]Golden. Harvest.

(Arc to rainbow.)

[Kuse]Note is synonym for note

The time that bindsSweet sympathy That can’t help but playDown in the baritone You are not aloneWherever notes may fall They playPlay, play, playHo, Ho-HokieHo, Ho-HokieHo

[Story] That’s the story of Camp Big Heart. Was. Is. Here is the story of thisplace and the name goes on, I am not where I am. We are not wherewe are – how could we be – we’re in a story. Circle, fire. Here we goagain. As a young man Camp Big Heart in his heart a camp a socialspace plural where now one night the young man runs and runs,breathing, falls and his ear to the ground, he hears a beat, the camp ison his mother’s throat, this is his mother’s breast and he sleeps – theevil dream pursuing him flies by overhead and furious at losing himloses track of time breaking apart in the sunrise. The young man

awakes a young man. Where the nightmare was, is a gap in hismemory, where no pain may enter but also no memory of the night, sothough he never is a baby again he keeps counsel at his mother’sbreast, in silent post. They are alive in each other in the note for notematch of their hearts. That’s the story of how of Camp Big Heart... Youcan close your eyes now, head on heart and note fore not with thesecret heart that loves you.


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[Prayer]Sun wipes sorrow from the sky; it has no home here tonightNothing stranger than loveBy your side I reside resident advice is Thinking is in crisis

Understand me note for notePlay to me, baritone You are not alone



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Ryan Christopher Clark Play Three

[Traveling Song]Pronounce “Ryan”

The “Emily” is silent Two, two, two

Take nothing away from what was taken away,His heaven is in tactMay here in heart be here in factMoveA few inches off the groundDefunct gravityIf you ever came from Germany You came to be with me

How, young man, may we hold you?Wherever there is you, there is two, there is two

[Language] Joy is paying attention, the work of listening. Yes I am I will. Not against

my will but my will is matched drum for drum to that which – joyis paying attention.

One day in rain we will be free.Look sharp on a day like today. Because it is a day. Because it is today.

Sleeve creased to the cuff and a jolly-angle hat. Neat. Like that.

For you. Trust is prayer. Out the door to find out. Scout. Morning is my left

hand, night is my right. I throw a circle around knowledge andhold tight. Hold tight.

A young man, the way a cat falls asleep. Open.

[Name]LackSing a hymnHis name is made of how we carryStack hello Stack alternative spelling for Clark

Stack because he is adding up he is staring he is original, Ryan StackA drum is a vertical emptiness, that you beatSymmetrical: as above so belowHello RyanStack will beat the hollow and we follow

[Silence]Mother’s in school when deputy sherriff…


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“I had to convince her it was real”It was

[Motion]Food. Bank.

(Many things become.)

[Kuse]And one…Ho-Hokie, Ho-Hokie HoHo-Hokie, Ho-Hokie HoBaritone in the (MV’s) He’sPresident of “simple is good”ShouldLook sharp Today’s today

Down in the baritoneSweet sympathy That can’t help but playPlay, play, playH – O – K- I – EHokie NationVT

[Story]As the marshmallow carbons, stories with the big switcheroo. Brightlight, big heart, A jewel lies asleep as a baby if not in words of thought

or other smaller ways of knowing then as bright light, as big heart.Once there was a man once there was a man who – a counselor atCamp Big Heart. After a day, play, play, play; you know if it has a heartin it, it’s going to be scary. Once the young man runs he runs and runs,breathing, fall, ear to the ground, hear a beating, this, his mother’sbreast and he sleeps a baby. The nightmare flies by without seeing. You can close your eyes now, head on heart and note fore not with thesecret heart that loves you.

[Prayer]Love gives away

O, more than you knowLove gives and takes away moreHappy in these signs I will play themBut I play to get behind themMusic’s in a key because you’re opening something up There is more to language than what you hearBanking beat for beatBaritone sweet


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Nothing stranger than love



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Ryan Christopher Clark Play Four

[Traveling Song]What does silence do for sound when he’s born

HopeEmily, third twin, Bryan-Ryan The birth of silenceIs holyWhen held in common

How may we hold you?Wherever there are two there are threeSilence, then whatever is left is you and me

[Language]

Ranger over megaphone, old time value, reach: a pure truck, a case of water back to camp for drought-day cure, run a stack of mapsback to ration out the paths, forward.

Kind cheerful courteous brave kind reverent thrifty boy obedient scoutclean obedient and pay. Scout.

May I offer please the sweeter share, out of the heat I remember don’tdeny me the pleasure of this small service, please Lord use meup.

Yes ma’am, yes I am yes I will, happily, you can get there, to joy, bymoving, now. Because love says so. Because love is a house, anda home is a house you obey. I trust you.

A boy the way a cat falls asleep. Open. Exposed. The laid out status of vitality.

Morning is my left hand, night is my right. I throw a circle aroundknowledge and hold tight. Hold tight.

[Name] You, I see you there. ThereA clear arcSee you twice I see you thereSing a hymnHis name is made of how we carry

Ryan is a young manLet the young man playHis middle name’s a prayerLet the man prayFrom Ryan, right through ChristopherDown to C-L-A-R-K Hello Ryan


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[Silence]Clark. It was a moment

[Motion]Gold.

(Many things become one.)

[Kuse]Hokie high, Hokie lowHokie everywhere we goHokie up, Hokie downHokie folk, we get around The Marching VirginiansAll for once and all for allNote: synonym: note for note The time that binds

Down in the baritone You are not aloneWherever notes may fall They playHo, Ho-HokieHo, Ho-HokieHoAnd one…

[Story]And. But. Stay here: But I – get ahead of myself. Fireball anise tang of

mallow and ghostcore stories as the fire lows. A circle. We go again.Once there was a man once there was a man who was a man who wasa man – a counselor at Camp Big Heart. The dark flew past himoverhead lost track broke apart as time in the sun. Young man wakeup. No night there is none. Mother and son alive in the match of theirhearts, close your eyes now, head on heart and note for note, the storyof Camp Big Heart. Was. Is. Here is the story of this place.

[Prayer] You are pure You are with me all at once, not for showing but for being

Love gives awayLove gives and takes away moreBut not more than you can bearBank beat for beatBaritone sweetNothing stranger than love

Look, I just don’t know


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Look: You will never know


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Ryan Christopher Clark Play Five

[Traveling Song]Psy, bio, four point oh. English. Mouth of gold

Floors unsoldMove Two inches off the ground Two, twinsOriginal: Landstuhl. Binary, GermanyPlural heart, playing every drum part, he is up there. ThereLet him be two, two, two

The brain’s a way around the worldAnd life is everywhere else The world is word minus word

A null expense Two is sometimes none You are one in whom weHopeCome around, come aroundWhat I know: GraceIs not property

[Language] You if you please, for you, in your name, sincerely. The softer side the better half there, you have what you need.

Courteous kind obedient cheerful Scout a young man, thrifty. Why buyhere; a dollar cheaper down the street? Why here?

Heaven even less, is the work of listening, less expensive. Paid for.What are you doing? What have you done? You cannot move me from

my purpose. I am my mother’s son.I trust you. Love is prayer.

[Name] You ThereLack

Resident advisor – where do I live now, sir? Tell me about the world now, that I may serve, sirStack hello Stack alternative spelling for Clark; Stack because he is

adding up he is staring he is original, Ryan StackHello Ryan

[Silence]Horrible.


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(Hungry.)

[Kuse]Baritone in the (MV’s)He’sPresident of “simple is good”ShouldLook sharp Today’s todayDown in the baritoneSweet sympathy That can’t help but playPlay, play, play

VT The Marching VirginiansAll for once and all for allNote: synonym: note for note The time that bindsDown in the baritone You are not aloneWherever notes may fall They playAnd one…And one…

[Story]But switcheroo, stay here: “May he give to all of you a heart to worship

him, to do his will readily. May he open your heart and grant youpeace.”

Fireball-sweet story low in his mother’s throat.Where the night was no pain no memory of the night; though he never

is a baby again he keeps counsel at his mother’s breast, in silentpost. If it has a heart in it, it’s where we are – how we could be astory.

[Prayer]May, host the stranger, I am stranger Than the sun, than night amMore than themHappy in these signsI play to get behind themPure


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Ryan Christopher Clark Play Six

[Traveling Song]Born to silence so perfect,

No one sells floors anymoreA yard off the groundAnd for you we live in hopeEmily, third twin, Bryan, RyanEach a third of silenceSilenceIs holyWhen held in commonHow may we hold you?Mutually

[Language]In part. Exposed. The laid out status of vitality.Please Lord use me up. Yes ma’am, yes I am yes I will not against my

will but my will is matched drum for drum.One day in rain we will be free.Because you say so. Because love says so. Because love is a house,

and a home is a house you obey. Open.I trust you.

[Name]A clear arc

See twice, was-will, double rainbowRyan is a young manLet the young man playHis middle name’s a prayerLet the man prayFrom Ryan, right through ChristopherDown to C-L-A-R-K Hello RyanResident advisor – where do I live now, sir? Tell me about the world now, that I may serve, sir

[Silence]Clark – his mother – in school when deputy sherriff… a moment.

[Motion] Thanks.

(Everything is food.)


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[Kuse]Ho-Hokie, Ho-Hokie HoHo-Hokie, Ho-Hokie HoH – O – K- I – EHokie Nation

VTHokie high, Hokie lowHokie everywhere we goHokie up, Hokie downHokie folk, we get aroundVTVT

[Story]I am not where I am. We are not where we are we are in fire. He and

his camp were jewels on his mother’s throat, the shadow after

him blew over, the absence of light cannot look on the light andsurvive he lay in a gem of light in time with his mother’s heart,that row of stones perfect, one play after the next, necklace.Circle, fire, name by name. We hold in common. Thinking is in us,memory is between us.

A young man in his heart a camp a social space plural; he keepscounsel. “One” is “once” is everything we remember. Here, herein the story of this, and the name Ryan Stack Clark – we know.

[Prayer]Not for showing but for being

Love gives awayLove gives and takes away moreBear Christ as you are carriedNothing stranger than loveBank beat for beatBaritone sweetNothing stranger than love



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Ryan Christopher Clark Play Seven

[Traveling Song]Go with

Be withSilenceSilence, then whatever’s left of you is meSay “Ryan”Pronounce “Emily”May here in heart be here in factMoveA few inches off the ground.Defunct gravityIf you ever came from Germany You came to be with me

How, young man, may we hold you?Wherever there is me there is you, there are two

[Language]Range, pure, a case of water; I remember you, don’t deny me the

pleasure of this small service, I am my mother’s son. Neat. Likethat.

Scout. Joy is paying attention, the work of listening. Yes I am I will.

[Name]His name is made of how we carry;

Stack hello Stack alternative spelling for Clark;Stack because he is adding up he is staring he is original, Ryan Stack.A drum is a vertical emptiness, that you beat.Symmetrical: as above so below.Stack will beat the hollow and we follow. You, I see you there. There.A clear arc.See you twice I see you there.Sing a hymn.His name is made of how we carry.Ryan is a young man,

Let the young man play.His middle name’s a prayer –Let the man pray.

[Silence]Clark – it was a moment.

[Motion]


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(Expensive river.)

[Kuse]Baritone in the (MV’s) He’sPresident of “simple is good”

ShouldLook sharp Today’s todayDown in the baritone You are not alone; sweet sympathy That can’t help but playPlay, play, play

[Story]Night is a marsh, a ghost fire. Pursuing him and furious at losing him

from time forever in the sun. The gap in his memory, elegance

on his tongue. He strides the mare, hearts of same size and beatfor beat alive in each other not in words or thinking but indrumming. You can note-for-note with the secret heart that lovesyou.

The young man, a young man, where pain can’t find him, so though henever is a –

[Prayer]…But not more than you can bearBank beat for beatBaritone sweet

Love gives awayMore, more than youLove gives and takes away more

Look, I –I’m sorry but you –


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Ryan Christopher Clark Play Eight

[Traveling Song] Two, two, two

Take nothing away from what was taken away,Heaven, in tactBinaryLet him be two, two, twoPlural heart, playing every drum part, he is up there. ThereDefunct gravityIf you ever came from Germany then You came to be with meOne, two. The two tattoo, quality on parade.PropertyIs holy

When held in commonHow, young man, may we hold you?Wherever there is you, there is two, there is twoWherever there are two there are threeWhere you were, where you are, and what I see

[Language]Courteous. Kind. Joy is paying attention. One day in rain we will befree. Look sharp. Because it is today. Trust is prayer. Morning is my lefthand, night is my right. I throw a circle around knowledge and holdtight. Hold tight. A young man, the way a cat falls asleep. Open. You

can get there, to joy, by moving, now. Because love is a house, and ahome is a house you obey. Open.

[Name]LackFrom Ryan, right through ChristopherDown to C-L-A-R-K Sing a hymn.His name is made of how we carry;Stack hello Stack alternative spelling for ClarkStack because he is adding up he is staring he is original, Ryan Stack

A drum is a vertical emptiness, that you beatSymmetrical: as above so belowStack will beat the hollow and we followSee twice, was-will, double rainbowLet the man prayHello RyanHello, RyanResident advisor – where do I live now, sir?


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Tell me about the world now, that I may serve, sirLarkOffer. OftenI live in a toy worldMan across a field

Ryan Clark is real

[Silence]I had to convince her it was real.

[Motion]Harvest moon is gold. Wealthy river banks.

(River.)

[Kuse]Drum

Synonym for heart Time that bindsSweet sympathyPlayPlay down in the baritonePlayPlayPlay

[Story]Once. Carbon core is gemstone we burn down to light inside, heart for

heart. Fire is a circle fall and go again. Alive in each other, that’s thestory of how of Camp Big Heart... Bright light, big heart, once therewas a man once there was a man who – in counsel, awake. Open youreyes now, but I get ahead of myself.

[Prayer]Happy in these signs I will play themBut I play to get behind themMusic’s in a key because you’re opening something up Thinking is in crisisUnderstand me note for note

Play to me, baritone That That I may serve You are not aloneCertainly you can let go

Look, I just don’t knowLook:


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You will never know


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Ryan Christopher Clark Plays Nine – Sixteen

Plural heart, every drum partHe is there. There

The two tattoo, quality on paradeMorning is my left, night, my rightI throw a circle around knowledge hold tight

Don’t waste my time

Plural inside. I – areLark The king you bearOffer. Often

Do not –

I live in a toy worldA gap in memory You can close your eyes nowBehind each eye – The world, word for wordDon’t waste my time


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Ryan Christopher Clark Play Seventeen

[Another Story]Story. Stories. Clark. The road west.

Something came in across the farm that day and stole the goldfrom the fields; the wheat lay down, he went in pursuit of the harvestand came upon the log in which the shining wealth was stored. Nighthad arms and the moon was up, and when he moved, the gold glintedso the thief could see, he came running but the your man practicedadoration so he had a door in his chest – he hid the gold in his heart,and lay against his mother’s heartbeat in the hills, hiding there whilechaos flew over. In the daylight hours the next day he played the goldout through the baritone horn and restored wealth to he harvest; therewas a brilliant meal. It was real.

And one day a man named Stack took the Boy Scouts out on a hike

west; marching was dancing, and movement a way of listening. Whenthey got to the clearing and the birds silenced for a moment the trooprealized that what they had been hearing was the drum-line of theirhearts played in polyrhythm with the heart below them, and then thebirds came in to sing “Build Camp Big Heart Here.”

These and other stories like how he gave his suffering to beauty inthe flowers of the dogwood tree or I don’t know where the ocean is butthere is one a long way west and its named for peace but I’m not eventalking about west in this world or an ocean you get to along a road.It’s a depth you get to through fidelity, a note that finds itself by beingexactly itself at exactly the right time, and it will be itself forever. One

name faithful whenever played: Ryan Christopher Stack Clark.Do you know what forever is? In me you know what forever is. Wait.These are just some of the stories that –


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Ryan Christopher Clark Play Eighteen

[Another Story]Stories. The road west.

Something comes in across the farm; steals gold; the wheat liesdown, he goes after the harvest; he finds it in a tree. Which kind? Nighthas arms and the moon is up; when he moves, the gold glints; the thief sees him. But Stack practices adoration so he has a door in his chest –he hides the gold in his heart, and lies against his mother’s heartbeatin the hills, hiding there while the imp of the crop theft flies over. Thenext day Stack plays the gold back out through the baritone, andrestores wealth to he harvest; there’s a brilliant meal. It is real.

And one day a man named Stack takes the Scouts on a hike west;marching is dancing, and movement’s a way of listening. When theyget to the clearing and the birds silence for a moment the troop

realizes that they have been hearing the drum-line of their heartsplayed in over and with the heart below them. The birds come in tosing “Build Camp Big Heart Here.”

And one day other stories, like how he gave his beauty to sufferingin the dogwood, or I don’t know where the ocean is but there is one along way west named for peace but I’m not even talking about west inthis world or an ocean that rocks in tide, it’s a depth you get to throughfidelity, and a note that finds itself by being exactly itself at exactly theright time, and it will be itself forever. Ryan Christopher Stack Clark.

Do you know what forever is? In me you do. Wait.These are just some of the stories that –


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Ryan Christopher Clark Play Nineteen

[Another Story]Story. Clark. I can’t even tell you the best one because I –

That day, and from the fields in pursuit of the –

And he came upon the thief’s hiding place. Thief came running but theyour man hid in the flowers of the tree. One name faithful wheneverplayed. You know what forever is: stories; the road west.

Something is coming in across the farm; the wheat lies down. Nighthas arms and the moon has arms and when they aren’t fighting eachother they are reaching for you; when Stack moves, the thief sees him.But Stack practices adoration so he has ardor which is like arbor – hehides in the dogwood, reaches like a tooth nerve, feels his mother’s

heart, hides there while the imp of the crop-theft flies over. The flowersof the tree are baritone bells and next day open in the sun they playwealth back to the harvest. There’s a real meal.

And one day a man named Stack takes the Scouts west; movementis listening. They clear their heads in the birds-silence they yield, theycan hear drum code in stone.

Build. Camp. Big. Heart. Here.And one day like other stories beauty suffers to dogwood flowers, or

I don’t know, the ocean is a flower if that’s what suffering is, and whensuffering oceans-out, a flower, call it “peace.” “Faith.” And note-for-note.

Do you know what forever is? Wait.These are just some of the stories that –


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Ryan Christopher Clark Play Twenty

[Another Story]He kept a log and from his notes, note for note: all the gold goes out in

a stolen boat; even the boat was stolen; the wheat lies down and theharvest, spoilt; Ryan steals the gold back and sleeps against thebeating heart in the hills. The next day, Stack plays the gold back outthrough the baritone; lifts the brilliant harvest back. He can do greatthings, you see.

On a hike marching is dancing, way out when. A way out, he gets tothe moment where his heart expanded in the heat is the size of theheart of the mare of the striding Earth, he matches beat for beat. Thebirds come inland to sing the like an ocean in the name of peace. Inthis world you are an ocean or a story: to depth you through fidelity.Itself, itself forever.

Or I don’t know, he hid in dogwood, and the ocean in the tree isfaith in peace, note-for-note.

Ryan Christopher Stack Clark. In me you know story.Wait forever.


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Ryan Christopher Clark Play Twenty-One

[Another Story] There are many stories I can tell you about Ryan but I will tell you just

these two, these three. About the time when the moon stole the goldfrom the wheat to be more like the sun, but then night wasunemployed and in it’s poverty the owls went bankrupt and the miceran around like crazy. He got it all back and when the moon flew by hewas hiding, the moon waned in misery, he played gold back throughbaritone; everybody made bread. That’s just one. There’s also –

The lies the gold tried to tell while it was waiting for Ryan; but goldcan’t lie, gold knows suffering it is perfected in trial. It is a drum,beaten to a shine. Meaning it is real, the way we are when we suffer.

Like how when he gave his life us for our repetition in story, ourheartbeat, as we are tried so we must shine, this pain is our union in

the music of him, he drums us, we reply.Peace rocks in tide, major/minor, nonetheless peace. It a finds itself

by being exactly itself at exactly the right time and not the consolationor event, and it will be story. Clark. I can’t even tell you the best onebecause I –

That day, and from the fields in pursuit of the –And he came upon the thief’s hiding place.Something is coming; the wheat lies down. Night has arms and the

moon has arms. He practices adoration so ardor and arbor – floweringtree reaches like a tooth nerve, heartbeat.

The crop-thief imp flies the wrong way. The flowers of the tree:

baritone bells and next day open in the sun they pray the harvestback. Everybody bakes bread and grace is what we hold in common.

And one day a man named Stack…Do you know what forever is? In me you know what forever is. Wait.These are just some of the stories that –


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Ryan Christopher Clark Play Twenty-Two

[Another Story]… In which the shining wealth was stored; steals gold back; the gold

was the harvest or the ripe of the harvest, and he hid against thebrilliant beat, the heart in the hill. It is real. The troop realized thatthey’d been hearing the drum-line of their hearts played in, over, andwith the heart below them, a beat named “the right time.” Thief camerunning but the young man hid in the flowers of the tree. A young mannamed “faithful” whenever prayed. You know what forever is: it’sstories; it’s the road west. They reach you; when faith moves, move.

He hides in the dogwood, feels his mother’s heart, hides there whilethe imp of the crop-theft flies away.

Takes the Scouts west; movement is listening. They clear theirheads in the birds-silence they yield; hear drum code in stone.

Build. Camp. Big. Heart. Here.The next day Stack plays the gold back out through the baritone,

and restores wealth to he harvest; there’s a brilliant meal. It is real.And one day… These are just some of the stories that – He kept a

log and from his notes: all the gold went out in a stolen boat; on a hikemarching was dancing, way out when. A ways out, he gets to themoment where his heart expanded in the heat to the size of the heartof the mare of the striding Earth, he matches. The birds in ocean, tiderocks between the lovely and dire, but may shore to shore be called,for sake of our map, peace. In this world you are an ocean or a story:to depth you through fidelity. Itself, itself forever.

Or I don’t know, he hid in dogwood, and the ocean in the tree isfaith in peace, note-for-note.

Ryan Christopher Stack Clark. I didn’t even really get started tellingyou the stories that –

Wait.


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Ryan Christopher Clark Play Twenty-Three

[Another Story]A for A. G for G. Note for note. You tell me.

Where is-? It’s a long way.

Something comes in across the farm; steals gold; the wheat lies down,he goes after the harvest; he finds a tree. Night has arms and themoon is up; when he moves, we move; ardor. Dancing listens. Motionclears the birds and silence for a moment, then the drum of the dirtand the heart in the working mare of the world is matched beat forbeat, the hikers widened heart.

Or other stories, like how he gave his beauty to suffering in the

dogwood, or I don’t know where the ocean, but where the ocean is, theocean throws the same flowers as dogwood, same centered nails thesalt of the sea is nails in flowers, but this is a long way. I’m not eventalking about west in this world or an ocean, but a sea that rocks peacein tide between strains of consolation and grief, at a depth you get tothrough fidelity, exactly itself at exactly the right time, and it will beitself forever. Ryan Christopher Stack Clark.

Mouth of gold, words robbed out, and even the boat was stolen; thewheat lies down and the harvest, spoilt; Ryan steals the gold back andsleeps against the beating heart in the hills. The next day, Stack plays

the gold back out through the baritone; lifts the harvest, brilliant, back.He can do great things, you see. Come back like an ocean salted withnails in the name of peace forever.

Do you know what forever is? In me you do. Wait.

These are just some of the stories –


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Ryan Christopher Clark Play Twenty-Four

[Another Story]For him.

Once.

Stack has gold; it’s in the crops. The thief sees him. But Stack practicesadoration so he has a door in his chest – he hides the gold inside, andlies against his mother’s heartbeat, lies there up on the hill, safe therewhile the imp of the crop-theft flies in search; flies over, flies away.

There are many stories I can tell you about Ryan but I will tell you justthese two, these three. About the time when the moon stole the goldfrom the wheat to be more like the sun, but then night was

unemployed and the owls went broke and the mice ran around likecrazy. He got it all back and when the moon flew by he was hiding, themoon closed to new misery. The flowers of the tree: baritone bells andnext day open in the sun they pray the harvest back. Everybody bakesbread and grace is what we hold in common. That’s just one story. There’s also –

The lies the gold tried to tell while it was waiting for Ryan; but goldcan’t lie, gold knows suffering it is perfected in trial. It is a drum,beaten to a shine. Meaning it is real, the way we are when we suffer.

Like how when he gave his life up for repetition in story, ourheartbeat; as we are tried so we must shine, this pain is our union in

the music of him, he drums us, we reply.Peace rocks in tide, major/minor, still peace. Finds itself exactly

itself at exactly the right time, not the consolation or event; it will bestory. Clark, I can’t even tell you the best one because I –

That day, and from the fields in pursuit of the –And he came upon the thief’s hiding place –Something is coming; the wheat lies down; night has arms and the

moon has arms. He practices adoration so ardor and arbor – floweringtree reaches, a tooth nerve, heartbeat.

And one day a man named Stack.Do you know what forever is? In me you know what forever is. Wait.

A for A. G for G. Note for note. You tell me.Where is -? It’s a long way.


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Ryan Christopher Clark Play Twenty- Five

[Traveling Song]Let him be two, two, two

Plural heart, playing every drum partHe is up there. There

One, two. The two tattoo, quality on paradePropertyIs holyWhen held in commonHow, young man, may we hold you?Wherever there is you, there is two, there is two

Take slack from the “two-knot,” one and one

What I may hold and what I may not Taken but not awayHis heaven is in tactMay here in heart be here in factMoveA few inches off the groundDefunct gravityIf you ever came from Germany You came to be with me

Pronounce “Ryan”

The “Emily” is silent Two, two, two

How, young man, may we hold you?Wherever there is me there is you, there are twoWherever there are two there are threeSilence, then whatever is left is you and me

Be with meI am with you


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Ryan Christopher Clark Play Twenty- Six

[Language] The better half, out of the heat, I remember you, don’t deny me the

pleasure of this small service, Lord, please, Lord please use meup. Yes ma’am, I am I will, not against my will but matched, drum for

drum. You can get there to joy by moving there, now you have what you

need.Courteous kind obedient cheerful boy out the door to find out, scout, a

young man, thrifty. Why buy here; a dollar cheaper down thestreet? Heaven’s less expensive than earth, has been paid for.

What are you doing here? What have you done? You cannot move mefrom my purpose. I am my mother’s son.

Look sharp on a day like today. Because it is a day. Because it is today.Sleeve creased to the cuff and a jolly-angle hat. Neat. Like that.For you.

Reason is a fever but never is a fire. I need a more than a reason for allthis love I’m a bird without a wire. Because love is a house, and ahome is a house you obey. I trust you. Trust is prayer.

Brave clean and reverent.Morning is my left hand, night is my right. I throw a circle around

knowledge and hold tight. Hold tight. Joy is paying attention, the work of listening. Yes I am I will. Not against

my will but my will is matched drum for drum to that which joy is

paying attention.A young man, the way a cat falls asleep. Open. The laid out status of

vitality.One day in rain we will be free.I trust you. Trust is prayer. Morning is my left hand, night is my right. I

throw a circle around knowledge and hold tight. Hold tight. Ayoung man, the way a cat falls asleep. Open. You can get there,to joy, by moving, now. Because love is a house, and a home is ahouse you obey. Open.

I thought I heard something rip but it was in me.

Be with me.I’m with you.


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Ryan Christopher BishopPlay Twenty-Seven

[Name]Hello, Ryan

Ryan, Bryan. Is. To. ForArc. StackRyan ClarkPlural inside. I – areAnd the king you bearLarkOffer. OftenI live in a toy worldMan across a field You, I see you there. ThereA clear arc

See you twice I see you thereSee twice, was-will, double rainbowRyan, a young manLet the young man playHis middle name a prayerLet the young man prayFrom Ryan, right through Christopher To C-L-A-R-K Resident advisor – where do I live now, sir? Tell me about the world now, that I may serve, sirHello Ryan

LackHis name: made of how we carry;Alternative spelling for Clark:Stack, because he is adding up he is staring he is original, Ryan StackA drum is a vertical emptiness, that you beatSymmetrical: as above so belowStack will beat the hollow and we followHello RyanHello, RyanI live in a toy worldMan across a field

Ryan Clark is real

Be with meI’m with you


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Ryan Christopher Clark Play Twenty-Eight

[Silence]Mother in school when deputy sherriff…

“I had to convince her it was real”(Silence, to two minutes. Then.)I thought I heard something rip, but it was in meBe with meI’m with you


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Ryan Christopher Clark Play Twenty-Nine


(Circle to arc.)Golden. Harvest.(Arc to rainbow.)

Food. Bank.(Many things become.)

Gold.(Many things become one.)

Golden Harvest Food Bank.(Hungry.)

Thanks.(Everything is food; a river is expensive river.)

Harvest moon is gold. Wealthy river banks.(River.)

Be with me;I’m with you.


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Ryan Christopher Clark Play Thirty

[Kuse]Baritone in the Marching Virginians

(MV’s) He’sPresident of “simple is good”Down in the baritone You are not aloneWherever notes may fall They playPlay, play, playHo, Ho-HokieNote: synonym for note The time that bindsSweet sympathy

That can’t help but playDown in the baritone You are not aloneWherever notes may fall They playPlay, play, playHo, Ho-HokieHo, Ho-HokieHoAnd one…H – O – K- I – E

Hokie NationVTHokie high, Hokie lowHokie everywhere we goHokie up, Hokie downHokie folk, we get around The Marching VirginiansAll for one once and for allAnd one…Ho-Hokie, Ho-Hokie HoHo-Hokie, Ho-Hokie Ho

H – O – K- I – EHokie NationVT VT VT

I am with youBe with me


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Ryan Christopher Clark Play Thirty-One

[Story]Bright light, big heart, once there was a man once there was a man

who – That’s the story of Camp Big Heart. Was. Is.Here is the story, this place and the name, I am not where I am, we are

not where we are – how could we be – we’re in a story. Circle,fire. We go again.

A young man Camp Big Heart his heart a camp a social space pluralwhere now one night the young man runs, breathing, falls,

A jewel asleep as a baby not as thought but as light.Once there was a man once there was a man who – a counselor at

Camp Big Heart; you know if it has a heart in it, it’s going to bescary.

And. But. Stay.Fireball anise tang of mallow and ghostcore stories as the fire lows. A

circle. Go.Once.A young man. No night, there is none. Mother and son alive in the

match of their hearts, close your eyes now, head on heart andnote for note. Was. Is. Here is the story of this place.

Fireball-sweet story low in the mother’s throat.Where the night was, no pain no memory of the night; though he never

is a baby again he keeps counsel at his mother’s breast, in silentpost.

I am not where/we are not where we are we are in fire. He and hiscamp, jewels on his mother’s throat, the shadow after him blewover, the absence of light cannot look on the light and survive helay in gem, in time with the mother’s heart, communion of tones. Thinking is in us/memory is between us.

Night is a marsh, a ghost fire. Loss is the elegance of our speech.

Spring was cold. Flood on paradeChenrezig, 32 arms, plays the drumFrom inside. A mare strides the riverReason isn’t a fire, but is a fever

Two, two, the drum tattooExacting paradidleWhy does everything said in a floodCome out like a riddle?

You can note-for-note with the secret heart that loves you. The young man, a young man, where pain can’t find him, so though he


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never is a –Once. Carbon core is gemstone we burn down to light inside, heart for

heart. Once there was a man who – in counsel, awake. Open youreyes now, but I get ahead of myself.

Be with me I am with you.


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Ryan Christopher Clark Play Thirty-Two

[Prayer]Certainly you can let go

Nothing stranger than loveResident advice is Thinking is in crisisUnderstand me note for notePlay to me, baritone You are not aloneLove gives awayO, more than you knowLove gives and takes awayMore than knowing gets from livingBaritone is my heart’s giving

Over to the lover’ source of love.Happy in these signs I will play themBut I play to get behind themMusic’s in a key; you’re opening something up There is more to language than what you hearBanking beat for beatBaritone sweetNothing stranger than love You are with me once, all the time, not for showing but for beingLove gives and takes away moreBut no more than you can bear

Bear Christ as you are carriedNothing stranger than loveLove gives awayMore, more than youPlay to me, baritone That That I may serve You are not aloneCertainly you can let go

Be with me

I am with you

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vt altars clark 5-2-11

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