Category Archives: Sing-Song

Apr 30 2013

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…

Jan 15 2013

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…

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Nov 29 2012

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…

Nov 26 2012

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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Nov 11 2012

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…

//

Oct 27 2012

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…

Oct 2 2012

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…

Sep 1 2012

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…

Aug 26 2012

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…

Aug 17 2012

Peace Harbor and War…

Once there was a Great Lake called Michigan and a harbor placed north of Milwaukee. While walking across a series of bridges, flocks of birds perch or take wing either nervous or called south by late summer’s notions of warmth. On beach-side rocks are scattered both large and small across sand and into the water. Lake calm—neither a ripple nor waves. Remember! Brain-cry to cross this lake and pass thru the Saint Lawrence Seaway then onto the North Atlantic and to sail away and to go home…

We walked these piers dressed as Naval Officers and as civilians and as warriors. We walked along the water-fronts in both Annapolis and in London. We stood on the bows of ships-of-sails and of merchant steamers and on the wooden decks of sinking ships damaged from fire-fight with broken masts and crater sized openings in both hull and deck. We survived and we physically drowned from war. We neither required air to breath nor understood fear beneath one hundred feet of water.

We listened while both fiddler and accordion played harmony on Bourbon Street without those cars and those trucks and those noises—too loud and too distracting. Cajun violins and songs of both happiness and of sorrow still dance and wail through the night and through these dreams.

We rounded the Horn of Africa and we watched those light-housed flashes bounce off Cape Hatteras. We traded cannon fire and death along the European Coastline and onto seas and ports protected by forts and friends and foes. We sailed from the great northern oceans as adventurers and ports away called us to find something unusual or new.

We gained shores with strong forces and off-loaded horses and infantry of sailors and marines of combat strength from five hundred ships. We marched and rode toward those carefully engineered and magnificent castles. There, became a leader of warriors and a master of nothing except  war and impending death. Time warps and the fires of arrows as skies darken with too many shafts and feathers and blood. The launch of spears and  skill opens great wounds and both men and horses combat one another and death. Life does stop and start without the knowledge of living or the hope of peace. This finality continues with ruin and the slap of spear to flesh and a fall from beast to sand and the continuation of living inside and outside the body. We gain the freedom of watching battle unattached and the non-fear of living and of dying. The fall ends and life stop/starts and freedoms continue through the strength of billions and the songs of battle and of the harmony of peace.

Still the fiddlers play on into the night and the drums cause those millions to dance and swirl and twirl and mock death until it all begins again and ends and begins and ends and begins…ad infinitum. Simple choice? Not to fall in Battle—but to fall in Love?

And! Beautiful you are…

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