Oceans of Crystal Ships…

Halo_123Bombs to feed our Children—WTF? ‘Swords to Plowshares’—How Simple and How Sweet…Worlds without Rape and Murder—Absolutely! And! ’ Sleeping in Safe Arms’ Wonderfully—Wonderful…donchathink?

From the harbor of Calimesa City there once sailed great ships of crystal—sent across the seas of space toward small spinning places three steps from a little yellow sun—dancing lights and heated waves vibrating life chances and starts and beginning of ends in exploded variations of home and conducive to blood-fleshed creations and our creature-selves.

Are we living proof—the something-of-else—far from planet here to there where once and often Gods ruled the what-of-ever-forever-for-more-or-less and created woman and man inside the worlds of Sirius and Nomad Gods dragged life’s sweet creations to Mars and Earth and another beyond in hinged fringes and the bright light of golden ships of purple sails and silent engines? Improved and less and by the joint endeavors’ of sin and survival we remained alive?

These ships of crystal and filled to brim with living mischief—and the odd whimsy of god-speak  and legend—lurched forward toward features reversed or continued or extinguished—Titans created the creations of presences and histories and current fallacies—And! Since wars among Titans raged heaven’s high and length, ‘tis simple why creatures created in images or by—production of accidents’ industrial strength and robotic renovation—determined little more than continued strife and strike and stupidity and suffering through little success—successfully executed and lost…

However: The created creations lost an ‘Eden’ place when the ‘She’ and ‘He’ of the ‘It’ either happened by an accidental accident or fell from or was pushed out of the wonder of ‘Immaculate Contraptions’ and through construction divine discovered the ‘other than’ robotic being and joined the ‘Spirits of Twirl’ while discovering choice is better than and more difficult than the straight-in-line-crawl toward golden lights and cave dwelling and scrawling dots or dashes against walls without reasons or rhymes or the ‘Rhythm of Love.’

The created ‘Something’ became Creators’ images. Titans both liked and did not like those new—some and toothsome robotic creators and out of the Martian splendor again Crystal ships left Calimesa City and those Wars of Heaven started again and ended again with a bang of clang and thunder as flashed bright light streaked to ground and again to sky shapes and sweeping clouds. Natures’ way and the wary way of being a meek part of some partial particle of the ways of Natural processes or nature’s no reasons to whimsically past time became new  ideas and shapes—always simple and called ‘grand schemes’ of things discovered and ways-to-live again…

Again: The concepts of Alpha’s fade into sunlight’s setting in a western sky or an eastern place where Suns counter-twirl the clock’s faced sweep of hands out-of-motion in the used-to-be circle and night still happens and daylight is always measured in products produced and profits lost or gained. Must be the Gods of creation…We created them—they must earn a return for their creation—‘so let it be written?

And! This day ‘smaller’ Titans create crystal ships against the blue of sky day and sail east into a setting sun as orange/red disappears along the line. No profit for created creations—no bill to pay for a piper of songs of long ago sounds or for an eternal drum-lined-march-to-war…Just peace and sunset’s sweet and crystal ships on these waters—along the line where sky meets sea and light fades into a very fine night…Watch for those purple sails and listen for the distant sounds of silent engines—Oh Yeah—Baby!

And! Beautiful you are…

‘Whispers’—by Unsun

Before Thunder Words…

F34bCaution now and then the laughter of strings from harps as happens when verses dance along these pages of parchment and tin pictures. Dust spreads across this land as the too much wind and too late water cannot not spread trickles and tickles of streams and lakes and oceans of fresh liquid across a salt less sea. Lifelines of service—tonight we caress soft sounds and submit to our songs.

The dancing skates of wheels and those of ice rails arrive to use by feet and ancient selves of balance and twists and turns and freedom without the gravity of graves as again the singing strings of violins fill the evening with song and rhythm and rhyme. And! Fiddlers play music—lately into the night and dancers form circles toward fires of light and away from darkness or the empty space of silence.

Together stories of life are magnificent. Tales and lies and glories and lies and the tall words of historic wars and heroic praise not required when the fiddlers play true sense of liquid verses and the movement of peace endings and hopes beginning in the fires of spirit strength and life’s power. Everlasting is this spirit and life begins and ends as the fiddlers play.

You do come home. This is a place where monsters do not dwell except in the mystery of children’s thoughts and their laughter. You do come home, where bombs of war do not shatter dreams or disturb determination of freedom—folly and lives. This is our place without borders.  Only the religions of kings attempt to divide and conquer spirit wings and fiddlers speak.

Our bags of sleep are warm and not the humble man’s strait jacket. We gather to face fire for light and we turn away to sleep. Quick is the night and into the mists of morning’s gathering we shift and shape and move as substance occurs and flesh begins—warm of blood and energy. As day we begin another time without restrictions or reasons or thoughts except to begin as light spreads and we muscle our way into another way of day.

And! Beautiful you are…

Change or Flash Away…

2‘To be a well-favored man is the gift of fortune; but reading and writing comes by nature.’ Well said; for one of fortunate beginning. If food is ones only focus reading and writing is mute! Power is keeping the masses hungry-fearful-uneducated (Koch Brothers)…So! Few may rule many…

We are fearful of the conditions of America’s front and present society; because of the decline and the failure of our economic creations over the last ninety years. Since the (1900’s), our production has rapidly developed complete with swindle and the sin of speculation—Damn the workers…And! Capitalists hold your mortgage until they steal your land and your children’s future. Can we say, ’Banking ‘failures’ in (2008)?

Checking the ebb and flow and the laws of nature within a Societies’ structure, we discover the economic demise in its modernity. Capitalist and wealthy ‘landowners’ (speculators/bankers) create failures through their economic avarices and our governments.

Without the strength of the Union of American Workers, the company stores of old: (coal-country—West Virginia and Kentucky, etc.) will continue and instead of wage slavery we will be simple slaves. However, we are chained to the company and the power of the wealthy–called; our failed economy and our corrupt government. Company Store—Oh no! Did anyone mention Walmart?

Should we discover a Senate/Congress/Judicial and Executive gathering of competent women and men, we will still continue destroying the strength of people and freedom through another few years of Capitalist sputter and plunder.

Remember there is no freedom or democracy in Capitalism. It never existed except in conjuring instruments of war and the building and destroying of same; and the real or imagined enemies of the United States of America. Through violence, attempt to balance the world. Works for a while—and then ‘what do you do with a drunken sailor?’

Presently, the class struggle between Capital and Labor has been relegated or forced into the background; politically between government and the aristocracy—an Alliance (government of the purchased and wealth), and assembled in Camp ‘A’. And! ‘We the people;’ dragged by capitalists and property-job-loss-devaluation through America’s Banks and speculators into Camp ‘B.’

Watch our corrupted and purchased—Government toss-out the lies of ‘Democratic’ Capitalism between Republicans-vs.-Democrats. Legislate nothing for the people of America…Problem-speak of ‘great cliffs or defaults’ or any other ‘sound-bite-fantasy.’ Capitalism will correct nothing.

Print us more money and we will spend it all at the Company Store. Pay us just enough! We must eat something? Without food comes Revolution-eh?

And! Beautiful you are…

//

Destiny or Peace…

Leadership of Greed—Stop now!  Rebellion is upon you and your way has ended. Through peace and prosperity balance exists…Horror without either—ensues. Tis the Greed of Destruction. And! The goal of the warrior’s soul is to die.

Leadership of Greed—Stop now! Death to body is fast while death to Society is laborious and heart breaking and absolute. Beware; the death of the Middle East. It has not started— it is over. America’s war machine is great and murder is constant…How far must a nation go before it also falls amidst the spawn of gun-fear and violence. ‘Paranoia strikes deep and into nation’s soul it does seep…’

Leadership of Greed—Stop now! Are the drums of war also the sounds of desert fury? When sand storms rage across our lands how many grains of sand does it take to cover a woman and a man and a child? How much death causes a memory? How much servitude before freedom?

Leadership of Greed—Stop now! Toy with the will of humanity long enough and you die. Rebellion is not a gentle motion of movement and the change of painless alterations. Rebellion is the killer of society and an alternate civilization. Balance ceases—horror ensues.

Leadership of Greed—Stop now! The memory of bullet sound and the strike of metal to flesh becomes the communal scream of all women and men. Freedom from the immediate is the revolution of survival…Iraq-Iran-Syria-Palestine-Libya-Lebanon-Afghanistan—not distant planets…These are the names of Nations and the Home of people—Earth people of red blood and families and hopes and dreams and Life.

Leadership of Greed—Stop now! From the moment of controlled governance comes the roar of guns and slavery and fear and death…Let the stealing of the substances of survival and the ration of dignity begin. Humanity deserves far better than the control of the few with the most. And! When does fear turn to paranoia? Just before Revolution?

So! Dance now between the whirling and the twirling of grains-of-sand and flakes-of-snow. Call this dance religion and humanity destroys itself…Call this dance government and control destroys itself…Call this dance prosperity and ‘must have’ devours itself…Call this dance freedom and truth dies…Hunger binds a people…Greed divides everyone!

And! Beautiful you are…

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…

 

 

//

Of Moment We…

The You — I of this moment…Memory of meeting you somewhere set in a-twirling time of music and sight and rush to fill senses and blood with warmth and a continuation of day. Spectacular life streamed in direction not known and into the glimpse of this and that feeling, the merge of lives and whimsy and project and reasons to begin—Together time!

Twirling and the whirling and the loving of a so-strong-love; the silent touch and responsibility and protecting and the sing-song dance filled blood-time. Creation and duality were without processing—wanted and welcomed.

We! Danced with the life of lives and the together strength of twice-folk-joined. Together! We danced the universe without gravity push or pull and for moments we; free of doubting fear—sparkled.

Life and the Dance! Hand-hold and we touched those of mystery and magic and stop and start—alone with ghost dancers and us.

At ocean’s crest…Breathe the scent-of-twined-together-spark in the harmony of push-touch and the rhythm of twin-strength Life…Touched hearts and eyes wide open…

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…

Watching Phoenix Fly…

We await Phoenix. We are the gathering folk washed in starlight and dusted well with truth-dance-sing-song-spirits and waiting for Phoenix rise. We gather beneath these snow-stretched spaces among the twirly-whirl of soft-speak and touch and silence.

Once machine master and the rage of quick-timed-start-stop imbalance and dances across twin tight-ropes at once, too high and too brief to walk or survive sanity’s hoppity-skippy angel of light. Presently! Both snow and darkness fill our sight and blood warms our communal veins and we wait for Dragon-fire and Phoenix-flight and Family.

We are children of life and the survivors of that well scattered stretch of distance between tower-watch and destiny. So! Let us dance this life and play.

And! Beautiful you are…

Maybe and What…

Wondering of spaces between life and physical death; between the yes and no and the knowing and the forgetting and beyond what is not felt and momentarily realized…

We invite experience and receive experience in washes and tumbling that are wished for and torn away and into similar, as watching ocean waves or being swept out to sea by a storm or an accident. We reach for broom or mop or both, still we are never completely cleaned or dry.

Wondering how we fit between the softness of time and the steel reality of flying away from what is almost known into what is quickly learned or remembered. We are born knowing everything and instantly taught to not know. We spend another life learning to physically survive and toward the end, we realize the passage of time and our knowing returns in spared memories and past recognitions.

While learning necessary survival we forget what we were and are and desire in the worlds above and below as we cling to this one. The hardest moments of this life are waiting for stupidity to understand anything.

First we remember; the horror of birth and then the softness of mothers’ caresses and the survival of love within her eyes. For Love-is-Life and Life-is-Love So! Transition world and onto road—here we come.

And! Beautiful you are…