Category Archives: Understanding

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…

Oct 8 2012

Laced Magic and Sails…

Escape into this city filled to brimmed with witches and ghosts and spokes in timed harmony and choirs-of-one-chorus and harmonious enchanters along with magic made-of- lace.

This is the time of winged fire breathers and statues of motion and beaches of rocks without sand. Horses without wheels spin and donkey flocks carry unarmed soldiers into war covered places of blood without sound or shriek.

This is the mystery place. This is the dreamed stop-clock without time. A minute starts without beginning or time or reason to begin-end just a minute later ceases notion and substance.

The realm of call and words spoken are never sound. These same words flow across bands of bounded paper in font digital—and fashion stitched upon silk cloth and imagination.

We form the notion of eternity and dance upon timeless patches of cover underneath the most blue of skies just before rain-dusted night drives us underground to those places of swings and scenes of grass covered deserts in light and sparkle.

So! Escape to this city of oil rain, crumbled towers and rusted color skylines tucked just below sky ceiling. Walk upon the crusted sea and into the days-of-nothing-less.

And! Beautiful you are…

Oct 9 2009

Love-Death and Whispers

The funeral folk are leaving. A couple of groups still stand close to the “hole of deep six feet.” We are together away from where her son will soon be covered and hidden away from us. She has placed a Chicago White Sox cap over her long dark brown hair. On the mountain top wind pushes everything around. That explains the Sox cap and her young son’s favorite team.

We whisper and “Amazing Grace” does have a sweet sound. That hymn was our Father’s favorite. We quietly talk of little ones and cars and crashes and friends and pain and pain and another angel gone over and over again. She can cry and whisper our pain at the same time and I cannot cry.

We continue to our Father’s funeral. Afterward, crowds thin and whispers and wind and tears and music end gently. Life and spirits leave us and yes “people-pain” hurts. It is a pain left for the living along with the terror of a young one’s death and the end of a loving Father.

On a rain covered Wisconsin highway: I cry…