Chasing Eternal Spirits…

25City ended when life known though not completely understood stopped and the wars began. Great floods of political or religious doctrine mixed with gun-powder, drones and bombs—ba-boom-ba-boomed despite of; right or wrong, weak or strong and as all beliefs—no regard for precious life. Territory divided along the secular lives of too many bleeding folks and still the ba-boom of gun-powder and drones and bombs along with the religion of death found no one innocent enough to live.

City stopped and the social constructions of neighborhood and village and town died without a whimper. These constructions simply died, when the bullets ran out and all the weapons jammed. Riding those lines of timeless speed and the dark-light dance—carried Sparking Sparkle toward mass of center without color.

Then began the poisons of time. Another body politic found a better way to worship and to control those left to control. Call climates-a-changing or winter’s wrath or drought or flood an Earth-ender. Call death by storm or maelstrom or super storm Cindy or Clyde or Mary or…Mind-storm of those to control the unwilling to be controlled and always war to stop-start-win-lose-contain-spread-prevent-continue…Confusing of words sometimes win?

And! Always those living or dying in-out times either today, tomorrow, in present condition or another future real or imagined. Watch the sky for ‘It’ will come and destroy us! This never happens because we destroy ourselves. Are war and the fighting of battles as genetic as the creation of our own children?

If we let them do…then this is what will happen…they are not able to govern…and let’s call those freedom fighters—Terrorist…they are not people…they must be contained…this is our war against Terrorism…yet; is their war a hope for Freedom and Determination? Those winning wars rewrite history and are remembered as Patriots-Noble-Courageous-Founding Fathers and…really Thomas Jefferson, are all men equally created; yet, slaves are owned?

After several weeks of warnings the ultimate destruction of our Solar system, commenced and in a little under one hour the sun and planets were gone…All men are created equally! Living changes everything and another adventure begins. Skipping into start-stop and without this motion all ends…Skippity-Hoppity-Peace-be-Peace.

At this bridge we jumped to safety just before our vehicle splashed into water below us. He leaps to safety, and then plunge-jumped into the swirling-twirl and chased the auto as it went to-bottom. We waited for him to surface…He re-appeared as a boy. However; why a small child? Anyway, we never saw the man again.

And! Beautiful you are…

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Change Body Change…

71In the beginning there was the violence of creation—and as womankind and mankind spread about the earth violence was their survival…Born in blood and dead in blood. Such is the way of physical life and being physical in the rhythm of here-today-and-gone-tomorrow. Within the cycle called life—we are born to be wasted.

Let us not fall in war but simply fall in love! A pleasant change—don-cha-think?

 

“Imagine there’s no heaven
It’s easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today…

Imagine there’s no countries
It isn’t hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace…

You may say I’m a dreamer
But I’m not the only one
I hope someday you’ll join us
And the world will be as one

Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world…

You may say I’m a dreamer
But I’m not the only one
I hope someday you’ll join us
And the world will live as one”…’Image’ by John Lennon

And! Beautiful you are…

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We! Born to Be…

Whitnal Lake_1The great bird—without wing flap glides three inches above water surface for ten seconds then moves wings, strengthens and glides again…Sea calms on motion’s day and the watchers silently visiting shoreline, wait the happening and the night.

This is the day of Lions and caught between the water deep and surface wait the Griefshane and their moments in sunlight along forest’s edge and sand’s start. They are a few of many…Liquid born and water borne in ceaseless mixtures of salt and waves and sky and shoreline; trees, rocks, hills, valleys and mountains.

They are the mysteries of society and culture. They are…Legends of mighty warriors and caring givers-of-life. Their women are strong and their men powerful. They build worlds and are from other places and galaxies and wars and peace and forever.

We are their beginning and our end. Sounds as Godspeak—told by men and by women in times of peril and of need and of superstition and…We spin tales that become truth and power and magic. We craft the moneyed ways of future’s lost and tomorrow’s end.

People-governed through fear and the fabrication of religious lies and wealth, turn to burden. The revolution of death’s start-stop dance and the futility of power continues in any name except Truth.

We are born-to-be-wasted. ‘I want to unite with you Eternal Spirit…Help me awaken to that great goal’—unknown author.

And! Beautiful you are…

Flawed Democracy Times Three…

librabluetoliteToday…Government must be… ‘The Way of  Humane Authority.’

Therefore…Democracy is a flawed ideal. Why? It is based upon the sovereignty of the people. It is government granting power to democratically elected representatives. It is a government of more than one source of legitimacy…Presently! The multiplicity of our Senate and Congress cancels one another. Add a horror show: Of Democrats-Republicans-Tea Bangers…Oh my!

Practicing…Democracy creates problems. The interests and desires of the electorate are political choices. Moral issues develop: the majority may wish for; racism-imperialism-colonialism-fascism or… Short-term interests and solutions override the long-term interests of all mankind. Greed and Waste and War.

War… ‘What it is good for?’ It ends life too quickly. Innocence dies! History is a rewrite! The graciousness’ of living—gone! Young men and women fight and die…Hearts-do-break! We love our children! Religion not needed! Christ–What a Blur-Job…Once Truth existed? When and Where and How?

Money’s…Interests are political interests and are the priority of the Incumbent.  America (with democratically invested state governments) is unable to develop and sustain independent energy sources and our internal resources. Curbing energy usage? Without responsible (Humane Authority), the incumbent government of the moneyed electorate destroys the future choices of future generations…WOW!

Humane Authority…Examines political legitimacy. It is not ‘the peoples’ thoughts regarding their leaders. It is the true examination of a Ruler/President/Prime Minister/Governor/Mayor/Judge/Congressional/Senatorial and whatever. Let us; determine if he or she has the right to be a ruler (elected or not).

Criteria…Legitimacy through knowledge of the Earth, the Heavens and the People…Easy!

America…Practices a government called Democratic Capitalism. It is a combination of all things Social-Economical-Political. When successful, this ideology is a tripartite of democratic polity; Free markets, Fiscal responsibility and Balance.

The Economic Engine…Is supported by the capitalist-free-market-economy. Jobs are many and all people have employment. The people of a Capitalist Democracy become ‘through hard work’ a prosperous people…’We, the People in order to form!’

Truth…Capitalism is an impossible taskmaster. The Greed of Destruction is the method of governance. So! Short is the time of a Capitalist Democracy. Quickly; this is changed into Authoritarian Capitalism. Government is a tripartite of: Special Interest Groups, Corporate Lobbyists and Money…Koch (Coke) Brothers, etc.

We are…The grip of terror. This is the time of blurred vision and lies. This is the time of pathetic sound-bites and pathetic News-Shows in four-part harmony. And! Blah-Blah-Blah…

Revolution…Is the reality. Truth! Socialism is a movement forward. The Union of Laborers and Professionals…Easy?

And! Beautiful you are…

‘Among the Stars there is a Place where my Heart Always Returns.’  by Unsun…

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Songs of Away…

Touch your breath with mine on this night. Lips warmed with kisses
On this silent and this windless night—
I come for you

Brief shore time and great time away.
Universe of sea and water
Wind and storms and planet touch—
I come for you

Away from mid-Jan’s night magic and soft
lips and kisses without sounds with us.
On this silent and this windless night—
I come for you.

Now! Sally Born-She Sea-ness-And Salt-ness-Upon foam-less-Night seen-Day-loss. Alive life-Before time-Raining time-And night-Out begins-Or Senses.

Now! Sally ridge-Run summer-Without fall-Not winters-Spring ins-Reason outs. Just blood-Blue or- Red wiggle-Or warming-Self to- Air pushed-We then-In Breathe-Out then.

No! Quicker now- Quickly not-Without Sally-Sound gone-Remembered now-Forgotten or-Mourning willed-Minded danced-Without Sally-Home dreams-Picture silenced-Of life.

And! Beautiful you are…

 

 

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War Eternally Yours…

We fight these wars for so long and over and again until life ends and begins and ends…yesterday—today—tomorrow…Nothing matters but everything means the beginning of another end and we die and live together on these fields of battle.

I have been with you and in the names of religion and government and power and home, we battled foe, either you or me against another or against each other. No matter…we lived and died and were remembered and forgotten. And! We fought these wars and died. Forever; these wars for life-for throne-for freedom and we are lost.

War with Alexander or against Napoleon or another king or another religion of a same or different God. You and I, battle scarred or wounded or dying and never remembered except when she misses us or when we miss her. And! Our women go to war beside us. They stand with us and they die with us. They are not created to die in war. They are Life.

If we hate war—then why do we continually fight wars against life until life ceases and starts and stops and begins—ad infinitum? We! Are born to be wasted? Flags changed and still blood red is never a different liquid poured from wounds of knife or sword or spear or bullet or bomb or cannon or when mixed with powder and smoke. Blood red flows from you and I and horse and cat and dog and man and woman and child and baby…Still blood red—cries for strength and air and life.

I win and your history fades. You win and my life fades…And! If I must fight may I die to protect or save my family and my love? Be damned the government or the church or the faith or a thousand knife wounds or a million bullets. I fight and I will die for Home—and home is where I am this time—in this land or another place or world in another day or another time. We are born to be wasted…

Would it be precious to know that Love and Peace and Understanding is the next ideal stop made beneath the sky? Would it be precious not to be born and wasted but to be born and last without war for just one lifetime? Not to fall in battle—but just to fall in love…

One then
Two now
Then another
Then we
Then us.

Growls both low
And throat deep
Sounds just above
Noise-thought and
Beyond Dream-Speak.

Then whistles
Of distant trains.
A long distance
Away-again a call
And memory of war…

And! Beautiful you are…

Lion Echo and Light…

A time of early morning when sounds are soft against ear and movement does not play darts and goes and stop and start. A time to reflect or not to think but to happen as life happens in the sweet flow of quiet seashore in bright moon’s light. Waves even—gently lick the places of sand castles fading as eastern stars’ faint twinkle and the roars of today’s day touch the future and stops.

We—barefoot children of yesterday, leave the mere and slightest of indention in a sand semi-wet and cool from the absence of sunshine.

We—the children of another dawn, touch hand or swish jacketed shoulder once or twice or often without the counting of times or steps or memories. We are the happening of breath and silhouettes angled away from us by the western moon to fade or go by whimsy cloud or art.

Smiles not required and laughter not heard, not from or by our own design or folly. We are born of yesterday’s parents and tomorrow’s ruin. However—right on this moment and now on this side of second slide, we birth this moment or instance or day or past night’s hour.

We—live only of this stretch of sand and along with the catching up of tides flow believe the ice and water before and behind us are our ground and our chapter of seasons lived and written against the sands of shifting grain and the wind.

Care for life and alive and steeped in the reality of earth-beat and washed in the eternity of spirit and even alone—never lonely or forgotten with passing days or endless years of grooved space and the distance between here and there and everywhere.

And! Lion’s sandy paws follow our fading footsteps washed away by gentle surf and the settle of a constant settlement of earth and sky. We—you and I are instantly together and drawn by this moment and the notion of the simplicity of knowing we are beings beneath the fading light of moon and the coming of dawn-light and shadow. Those fading prints of sandy paws disappear and Lion call echoes somewhere across the bay. It is the music of this night and the rhythm of today.

And! Beautiful you are…

Spirits-Song Dancing…

Albert Einstein developed a Novel dance. It was called the ‘Theory of Relativity.’ This new dance—stated that ’matter is the same as energy…’ So! If a person consciously departs their body and enters a non-physical world or place would this spirit be neither matter nor energy?

Is there a formula or a discussion in the Scientific World for the existence of ‘conscious’ or ‘spirit’? No! Why? Are there only three dimensions? Is ‘time’ added to those dimensions? We as physical beings—also have five senses. So! Why is everything beyond normal—considered or called: nonsense, hallucination, superstition or religious? Our world is a magnificent construction of religious constructions. We believe or do not believe in derivations of inclined-living or higher-self or soul or spirit or great beyond-the-mean- averages of life or death.

Or! Do we simply wish better—God Self or Angel beyond the physical? Do we remember other self before birth and after death? If we do—then we are Universal Spirit?

Do we see outside our rejections and failures—as learning to be better or do we forget what we are? Remember when warmth was without fire? Remember when our mother’s blood fed us and whispered love into our blood-hungry souls before we became Scientific?

But! What of spark that travels into the light of joining life inside and outside the days of pasts-present’s-future.

Behold Spirit Dancer! Do remember when warmth was without fire and strength absolute without the Science of dimensions and senses and all was: nonsense-hallucination-superstitious-religious and without name. Before time wig-waggled across the universe spirits began.

Witches are the power of lives and life and choices and dictates and control. They are the fire builders and the rain of oils that fall from somewhere-to-there without distraction…The Coven hurls great sounds and flashes across sky and through the clouds.

In a world, the Cosmic Traveler visited and saw deserts and fertile valleys and green and salt and clear pools and the warmth of Blood-taste.

And! Beautiful you are…

The Cyborg Gods…

It is a dying mind that crawls toward a hurried ending borne on winds of Sunday evening. If the mind did not live can it be dying? It was a onetime infant torn too quickly from the womb. Was infant a subject of ancient memories and injury? Would it have been alive and at once dying? Would mind have been well and exacting in both capacity and vision?

On a Sunday evening, I fear that there is no living remembrance of love. Memories of sacrifice—yes. Memories of memory—yes. Of warmth, of pleasure, of pain, of smiles and of tears. Oh! Hell yes. But never a complete confusion of their sum or of a notion of their reduction. Never-ever! Nothing more than the trade of a thing and the barter of a feeling.

2…A memory of blood and my numbed hands as their fingers frantically filled the wound to search for, to find and then to squeeze closed a severed artery as it drew back into itself and the opened muscle of her body. Tears? My eyes? No! Instead I wiped rain from my face and hunched forward to cover her with as much of me as I could without further injuring her. We tasted the fear together. I squeezed and we waited a lifetime together. She grasped my arm and whispered softly that she hoped I would not die.

Mechanical wails filled the corners and alleys. We waited and her blood crawled from my hand up my arm. Then I prayed! I won’t remember to what; whether him or Him or her or Her or those 3-Sums that guide us over the cliff that drops us  before we fall. I pray and I always fall.

Those beautiful red lights ultimately blinded us. The solitude of our mutual struggle were shattered; (so overpowering the space between the passing of each second). I removed my touch from her body and wiped the water from my face.

These Gods moved her and I stood close to them for she had been so close to me. She was still mine as they filled the rear portion of some alien craft with herself. The lines that connected it to her and terminated at the edge, was a Cyborg deity or a God-machine, for I know not what I should name it.

Beyond what I could see from the street and above what I could understand— I watched Him/him feed carefully metered substance into her. I found it to be good!

Between the time she was removed from me and taken before the metal savior, we caught hold with our eyes. We fixed into the center of our spirits, listening and unable to remember what passed between us in that moment of silent relief.

I touched the corner of an ivory blanket near her shoulder. I smiled and she smiled. We both whispered “thank-you” for whatever we felt required gratitude.

On the ledge of Bridge, I stare at Viaduct and her broken sister, the crumbled wreck of a once strong and vigilant entity. I find that it is good!

And! Beautiful you are…

One Tin Soldier

 “Listen, children, to a story
That was written long ago,
‘Bout a kingdom on a mountain
And the valley-folk below.

On the mountain was a treasure
Buried deep beneath the stone,
And the valley-people swore
They’d have it for their very own.

Go ahead and hate your neighbor,
Go ahead and cheat a friend.
Do it in the name of Heaven,
You can justify it in the end.
There won’t be any trumpets blowing
Come the judgement day,
On the bloody morning after….
One tin soldier rides away.

So the people of the valley
Sent a message up the hill,
Asking for the buried treasure,
Tons of gold for which they’d kill.

Came an answer from the kingdom,
“With our brothers we will share
All the secrets of our mountain,
All the riches buried there.”

Go ahead and hate your neighbor,
Go ahead and cheat a friend.
Do it in the name of Heaven,
You can justify it in the end.
There won’t be any trumpets blowing
Come the judgement day,
On the bloody morning after….
One tin soldier rides away.

Now the valley cried with anger,
“Mount your horses! Draw your sword!”
And they killed the mountain-people,
So they won their just reward.

Now they stood beside the treasure,
On the mountain, dark and red.
Turned the stone and looked beneath it…
“Peace on Earth” was all it said.

Go ahead and hate your neighbor,
Go ahead and cheat a friend.
Do it in the name of Heaven,
You can justify it in the end.
There won’t be any trumpets blowing
Come the judgement day,
On the bloody morning after….
One tin soldier rides away.

Go ahead and hate your neighbor,
Go ahead and cheat a friend.
Do it in the name of Heaven,
You can justify it in the end.
There won’t be any trumpets blowing
Come the judgement day,
On the bloody morning after….
One tin soldier rides away.”
 ___by Lambert-Potter, sung by Coven

May Peace and Love and Understanding be with us all.
Amen…