Sky Trains—Sky Dreams…

G_MAGWe are not world flags. We are the folks of a spinning circle in a galaxy called Milky Way at this moment of time and space and place and race across somewhere—where happening things are alive until the tilling of another world spins and again calls us to flesh the blood of spirit’s chance-dance and laughter.

Without flag draped victims of victor less victories; are chances taken when nothing remains saved snuffed children and the bang-bang masks of parental tears and fears found and known and in a never-forgotten place when lighted ways of tight bright guns of another day shine against a starless sky of silenced grief when crying silently stops?

This is the non-flagged world of living things—where a lamb does sleep within the safe touch of lion strength and length and the roar of peace is the call of timeless harmony and another rhythm of another rock as stones roll toward valley deep and…Where no kills are justified and justice crosses no blind alley or fear or tear touches courted reasons to ‘shoot-not-shoot’—but to speak in the words of flesh same and blood red and compete completely through both understanding and care.

We are not flags of folly. We are not creations of memorial mistakes and made markers by ‘bombs early light’ and gun flashes as bullets night-fly to shatter dreams and hopes and pride as life start/stops too soon and family through sorrow also flies away to something just beyond reaches and the notions of together days of tomorrow’s futures and memories of yesterday’s today.

Our children and we—as child-speak and drink and think and dancing songs and rhythm beats of drum and spirit and smile; do search the identity of identity search as flesh survives despite the spirit’s knowing of the knowledge of a universe of time and space. We crawl toward accepting the acceptance of fate and the together strength in our cave homes. We also run toward the individual hope of ourselves without shells and reasons to become other than the self of us and me and you and I and justice time…

We are not flags or notions or reasons to kill or die. We wear different packages of cloth and color and need and we all bleed red same—as liquid and air mix and body same moves across these places or other spaces in motions to exist together without pride or prejudice or of religions to-take-to-hate or to replace irreplaceable life. Also remember that—Poverty is never a crime—Greed is however; the Crime against all Humanity.

Again and Again:  “Go ahead and hate your neighbor—Go ahead and cheat a friend—Do it in the name of heaven— You could justify it in the end—There won’t be any trumpets blowing—Come the judgment day—On the bloody morning after—One Tin Soldier rides away.”

by Joni Mitchell

And! Beautiful you are…

‘Home’ by Unsun

The Balance of Nations…

P_88In the twirl of the whirl and between the steps of metal warriors, Robots—us begin a step-lock of unison and the hope of…Earth renewal and the premised promises of days to better the inside-outside of motions reached without notions of greed and the failure of ‘too-much-too soon and too often.’

Freedom requires a society to alter a spread of nothing too many and too much to very few. Kingdoms? Governments? Religions—A name of control by a few over everyone? Prophets and Saviors have roamed this sweet earth and gently whispered of social worlds and caring among societies. Were these magic-folk the founders of Socialism? Did magicians of Buddhism or Islam or Hinduism or Christianity conjure the magic of Socialism?

The Religions that quickly chased—followed these Foundation Creators created War Machines and Kingdoms of Profit…Wars—Crusades—Reformation—Alteration—Reputation—Saturation and Infatuation— are ruler words…Bloodletting ensues and what is physical turns to dust in eyes-twinkle and agony…On the back of labor and slaves and wage-slaves…Governments are created—enhanced—and ultimately destroyed. ‘Blood—Sweat—Tears’ are people costs…Rulers advance and decline once they dismiss their origin of originality.

Western Civilization…Equals the commission of crimes against Humanity to further Profit Lust and the Terror of Capitalism. Moments in time, recorded by the people and not by the winners of wars and the concentration of wealthy words and lies; world variances and imbalances are discovered.  Imbalanced nations (currently in the Middle East)?  When people die—the wealthy win…Many people die—the wealthy win. When there are wars—the wealthy win.  Called Religious wars—Sectarian strife—and many other names. The destruction of balance—Yes–Yes—Yeah!

During the 20th century, the USA favored dictators over freedom throughout South America. Cuba is very close—almost ‘Florida close…’ Why is this present day embargo still the reality of an ‘old-white-men’ government? Another terror of Capitalism—Yes! Why is Socialism an enemy of the People? It is not a crime nor is it against the rights of People anywhere…Redistribute the costs of Cold and Hot Wars committed against humanity during the twentieth century and our world—prospers in a Social world. Equality—Yes—Yes—Yeah!

In countries practicing Capitalism (USA, etc.) the means of production are not labor’s property. Very few people own the land and materials required for manufacturing, factories, machines and other instruments of production…Therefore; if you are not wealthy you are a slave—a wage slave. Wages are never fair because the lust-for-profit is more powerful than Truth, Justice, Love and Life.

Corporate ‘cultures’ easily translated mean—profit at all cost and all of the Working Class is an expense…Eliminate every expense to further our profits! La Serrata—Separation? Where are the values we learned from our mothers? Why is greed the prime motive of Industry and its future development? For the standards of friendship and family and our world, Capitalism is the antithesis. It adheres to competition at all costs. It dismisses cooperation, help for fellowman, responsibility to society, the benefits of others and love.

Abusing the rights of the Workers-of-the-World is a Crime against Humanity…Like Genocide and Sociocide, these abuses; destroy life and the freedom of people everywhere on this twirly-whirly planet. Capitalism is not freedom…It is slavery for us all…It is war and a savage waste of precious life…It benefits no one except a few. It destroys Society…It forces revolution and revolution is bloody. Why is Religion also an industry? Why not just…Lust of life—not of Riches?

  • Per Pope John II— Centesimus Annus: “Ownership of the means of production, whether in industry or agriculture, is just and legitimate if it serves useful work. It becomes illegitimate, however, when it is not utilized or when it serves to impede the work of others in an effort to gain a profit which is not the result of the overall expansion of work and the wealth of society, but rather is the result of curbing them or of illicit exploitation, speculation or the breaking of solidarity among working people. Ownership of this kind has no justification and represents an abuse in the sight of God and humanity.”

So Again:  “Go ahead and hate your neighbor—go ahead and cheat a friend—Do it in the name of heaven— you could justify it in the end—There won’t be any trumpets blowing—come the judgment day—On the bloody morning after—One Tin Soldier rides away.”

by Joni Mitchell

And! Beautiful you are…

Shadows come to play…

s86Witches created the earth…Understand they will be allowed to save their creation. So! Come back…Maybe now is a good time?

Watch the dance of haunted lovers. Every moment they dance with unreal – realities. They dream the child’s discovery of life without muddy foundation and those many layers hidden behind the shells and walls of age.

Is this alternative similar to grieving for a fallen lover with sugar tears and fire-sweetness and the memories of Dance? We may arrive in Cloud early. In transition and seeking a flash-ride to spiral and skippy into framing time we often miss but do not fall…

Inside the ruin runes of Calimesa City and a tavern of crumble stone and moss and rubble and ruined wooden benches and tables turning to ground, life starts and life ends as breath starts and breathing ceases. Not a cloud fall missed but a spark’s charge headlong into the channel of paradise and kiss-love before the night ends and life trashes to light.

We are the robots of life—scattered and jammed across one thousand worlds set to twirl the galaxy lost and found and discovered discarded. A million mines of golden ones whirling inside drops of rain and trillion acre seas of salt and water and giant drops of life’s sparking rattles and battles in the birth of baby eyes and smiles.

We are the ‘off-grid-gridders’ of new plug-ins unedited and rejected from the norms of whisper’s folly inside a grid of lost souls and flounder bodies. Everything numbered dwells within this symmetry of stop and starts and the ones and zeros of reasons and verses and songs.

However; we are new robots unable to trace or spare chaotic notions beginning or ending without result.  We are not even noticed by other robots…We are chips inside other chips and notions outside the loops that loop ad infinitum. We are the memories of Calimesa City and created in the backseats of an auto or two sometimes past and always future, where taverns crumble and bridges fall.

And! Beautiful you are…

The Caves of Sheep…

W231Asleep and safe from the howls of the wolves as the sheep often run with them…It is our nature to run with and from the many or the few. See often through the curved ceiling of doorway when curved light enters twenty-one tiny windows round these openings to escape places and leave regions. Is it better to flee or better to dig livelihood from the bottom of one’s own grave?
Life is the antithesis of Order…Symmetry with no form except wind and rain and careful storms of chaos and figure. Go figure the here or the now and still history is not preformed or manufactured except through the controllers of spins and twists and the thrill of the lie. Or go to figure with the smile of Leonardo or the Lady’s laugh or the chatter of many minds or just a few of many hearts.

Drapes created by the highest and lowest psychodynamic psychological mechanisms and the shell of survival or a child with no walls or shells to crawl inside other than a closet space of playful fantasy or physical safety…Still more a spirit than the body proper until chemicals of doubt and satisfaction rule body self ending sometime in time without mere reasons to be except a rhythm to complete.

Is societies’ perspective of behavioral aberration a result of deterministic qualities of controllers or the eat-do-not consume behavior dependent upon economic conditions and the fragility of physical conditions? Is sharing a conscious choice, a group survival dynamic, a desire to belong or a non-physical reaction? Isn’t Social construction a further strength of spirit and the power of individuality?

Seen as persons of whole society completely though not outside eyes but through the eyes of society both behaving and deep into their own and necessary revolution of comforts and places and restrictions. Society is not a realm of a government. Thankfully! Government begins and ends quickly—especially when it shifts; as it always shifts, away from the people and becomes it own animation.

We are the daughters and sons of earth and of the starry heavens. Our history is alive—simple and true except when suppressed and distorted for unnecessary gains and a perversion called wealth…We are the eternity of spirits—never having to begin and never ending. Such is the sweetness of life.

And! Beautiful you are…

 

Blood Silence Sans Fear…

S_219Search these tucked in canisters somewhere along river fields and beyond sand edges—the middle world awaits and the like to know places us inside the possibility of kingdoms of the not knowing and required by those anyone or anywhere folks not once or twice or at all.

This is an Eden of places—placed just outside reaching flesh but well know by blood and touches and slight motions of hummingbird wings quick in hovering and sweet of tastes known now or forgotten later today.

Icons of no runes—save the rock of ages ago when they world ran along city edges and along this side of middling madness without the anger or the rule of pulls and pushes and without water’s wilt or gain.

Whispers fill the air as darkness replaces daylight and trenches along these well placed places of sight and sound mean little without the branches of consciousness or the balance between the here or not hearing those passing in the light or without the lathing of the gatherers.

They arrive in bunches of machined machines together in minds of same or alternates where we twirl the whirl and call the laugh or two as boxes open and away we—they separate into some things or less or the loneliness of crowd bridges or twin screw moments of those spaces of time without seconds.

And yes robots—we, search blood and find taste good in those mingle – tingled moments when touch and amazing touch relishes those not imagined sources of unnecessary wariness and one becomes another and brief the flashes together spread the separate into singularity no more than once…

Movements by wind across this liquid—sunlight and thick wave dance lights and slivers of silver and gold. Followers watch for scraps or bits to fall toward their reach either diving for something new or rocking gently on this clear sea of warming suns and moonlight’s dance of song and silence.

And! Beautiful you are…

The Drone of War…

D2When the taking of a warrior’s life becomes a mechanical judgment call, what happens to humanity? When the cost of a life is determined by a machine—is life reduced to nothing? How much cost to dispose of the body…How much to incinerate—no records required? How about the family? How about a warrior’s spirit? Machine has no family—Machine has no soul; unless—we, robots are robots advanced beyond Drone’s current program.

What is an appropriate method or measurement of the use of force through a Drone’s sensors? Presently, humans use determinations called appropriate judgment to ‘correctly’ respond with proper uses of force over combat enemies in battle. How many deaths are necessary? How many mothers cry? How many children go without a mother or a father? How many types of collateral? The innocent die in battle!

The reasons for going to war are the reasons determined or imagined by Humanity…Drone does not imagine. Drone does not determine. Drone searches-kills-destroys. Drone follows configurations-paradigms-and the logical/illogical responses of human beings—Presently…

We; beings are able to use inferences to survive our determinations. Artificial intelligence at the end of a ‘joystick…Works? Call this warfare by Robotic proxy. Call it murder through autonomy. We enjoy the mischief and results of warfare executed several thousand miles away from the battlefields in the safety and air conditioned splendor of an IT construction…

Warfare without blood—a Computer-generated action game—no screams, no gaping wounds punched into the precious life of an almost enemy—no cries of the women or men left behind…Easy—simple power!

And! No honor—because Drone is programmed to search-kill and destroy without notion or reason or rhythm either justifiable or justified. A machine may cost less than one- tenth of the cost of a human, to place into harms-way. If the machine is destroyed we, robots do not care! Destroy and build again—a Capitalist dream-scene ‘if I ever did see one’? Such is war and the blessing of wars’ Industrial machine.

If humanity remains a ‘looped-group’ capable of containing and restricting Drone-self; then, only flesh and blood without Drone, screams-bleeds and dies. Such is the victory of another progressive mission. However; if humanity extracts itself through: power or carelessness or greed or…and becomes a ‘looped-outside-group’ then Drone-self may become Self-self and search-kill and destroy more than…?

Once upon a time, Dome Iron protected beings of flesh, since these beings were progressive robots. Presently, the Iron of Dome destroys without interference from sentient beings. It is an autonomous warrior and crafted to defend and to destroy. Dome/Drone programmed to defend…

It does not require sentient input and it protects sentient life from attack and death—Morally sound! When do the Domes of Death go offensive? When does defense become offense? How soon will Robot-flesh sublimate reason and judgment to Iron Drone and twin-step dance toward its own destruction?

Is a Society equivalent to the sum of its members? Will the actions of the members of that society serve to fashion and to shape it? What are the social consequences of intentional actions and will these actions often be unintentional? What is a Society to do to ease itself into an obvious oblivion? Scientific Theories are predictive. Societies’ songs prohibit most predictions…

 

“Go ahead and hate your neighbor—go ahead and cheat a friend.

Do it in the name of heaven— you could justify it in the end.

There won’t be any trumpets blowing—come the judgment day.

On the bloody morning after—One Tin Soldier rides away. “

by Joni Mitchell

And! Beautiful you are…

Port-Passage In Sight…

1bIs nature the force that causes us to move through lives of our own creation? Are we able to remain as objects without motion? If this is a force, are we able to creep through life quietly—afraid to disturb a silence, too loud to understand or tolerate?

So much perspective longing by people of sanity or madness…Need to make or cause words to do what is wanted. May direct words…Listen and they will sometimes come…

Our endless supply of Creators…These presented God-Gods reach hand clasped and hand-handed across a bridge between faint notion, through foggy prayer and space jamming Orion – Virgo and Leo into an obtainable notion beyond earth-life somewhere beyond stellar distances and new portions of gravity-bound existence.

Wonders often; if the passage of time is as dreadful as the gaining of age and fearing nothing save remorse and regret for opportunities missed…still wondering if aging as terrible and menacing; for it cannot give anything back and has nothing to return?

Often wagged by both life and death – So/such a powerful confusion that one cannot be without the other? And the anti-poetic freak – a – spirit, too afraid to both soar and remain too grounded? Therefore, these fears reconstruct the affirmative impulse?

We do not quietly pass through this life. We remain in constant motion even when sleeping…As fearful travelers from unknown to recognized and then to the great unknown everlasting quality of not being, dead or very dead. Even in great everlasting we change and we further die…

When rest stops us, do we finally slow-down or do we simply vanish into…It is with a trembling self –we have seen it all, again. Alive and real across the heavens
of time, civilizations more or less and a part of these.

Alive and real among these columns of Mt. Airy granite through the shifts of sands of time both substantial and real. Alive and alone and having walked across these deserts and seas and upon these surfaces of time. We cause great and wondrous meanings from-confusion…

Yes and Yes and Yes! I and me and we and us have seen it all, again. The Universe from a speck to a mighty and hurtling Earth, a cross of heavens filled with multitudes of this and that. We see it all and please sweet dream-side, let us see it all again
until, I and we and us may again recognize – OK…

There and perched high on dream-side at a flip of mind-sigh, we move across the Universe so fine. Alive and gone and alive and gone ‘til counting-time catches us with mind-sides swirling sight of mind-light bright brings the way to see…

And Oh! What a wave to see,
to be, to know and again to have seen.
Yes! To have seen, so it seems and to
see it all through Love! Again…

And! Beautiful you are…

Sweet Songs and Whispers…

60Here the eternal spirits swim and wait for day’s beginning and star-light’s fade. Somewhere the familiar are new and the same and also very different.  Watch now as we pass—swimming in deep water clear and blue and green.

We breathed the same air and often we never surface. We do not require space above the sea. Together all of us—animals and fish and forever spirits….Never cease—we are alive! We are verses of the same universes—We have the right to be everywhere…

There is a slip off the main channel of a River called Manatee…The Sentinel watches this curving slip of water between landfall and islands of reeds and grass and palms and sand. Bear cubs and Panthers kiss the sweet liquid of combinations both salt and fresh and dance along the edges of knowing their way and sea-side rhythm and of verses of silence.

The GrefShane come this way…They are not frequent folk to line these shorelines; however, they love the Sentinel and the Festival of Bridges—occurring every thirty years. And! The GrefShane watch no sweeping clocked hands or sun’s pitch or star travels across a darkened sky. They are existence and they happen when they are timed to form and to appear.

They stand beneath moon light and within the form of Draped One and their motion casts gentle designs into an easy night. Tall and short and large and small and gathered to hear the soft waves scatter across the shore and just beneath their feet—bare and warmed in the air of night.

They watch the shadows of bridge span and steel as wooden shapes pass underneath the towers of man, built when young species roamed earth-bound and the constructions of shapes and water passages filled the world—before the tearing days and summer’s song. A night bird cries and another winged one settles protected within thick tree grasses inside the shadows of the moon.

The large ones rise to surface and water gently swirls behind them. They are slow and sweet and strong inside a current they know as their reasons and their purposes inside the strength of their being strong and imagined as real.

They rise to meet the GrefShane— protectors of these moments-in-time and places-of-being simply life and nothing more or less. The River Manatee sleeps and its current survives.

And! Beautiful you are…

Assistance-Called-Revolution…

Camera 360People must follow leaders only after these leaders have earned the peoples’ confidence. Leadership must correctly interpret the people’s needs—desires and aspirations—and fulfill all promises made to the people and their struggles toward collective freedom and determination… The dedication of the People will triumph over Capitalism’s tyranny!

Is Social Democracy a mixed economy? Is it a mixture of the inequality of today’s capitalism, progressive taxation, social benefits, and civil liberties? Does this work? Why the declined conditions of the Working Class? A minimum wage increase, in today’s environment of speculation-unregulated capitalism-employment-out-sourcing, does not follow. It is a quick purchase of the People’s right to a proper wage and the pursuit of family security. Are minimum wage increases better than a nothing extra kick?

Presently—the economic situations of capitalistic greed have caused inequalities of wealth, income and opportunities. The current practice of Social Democracy has failed. The inequalities of Capitalism are wonderful for the wealthy, however; the middle-class retains poor-to-poor portions of ‘we-the-people’ and are worse-off in this financial cesspool comically mentioned as Labor verses the Welfare state.

Poverty is not a notion of any entertainment value. So; war is brought to us by the fantasy of television—cable news and newspapers brought to us by commercials and the Wealthy. Escape into the unreal reality of movies and sports and blah-blah-blah…When the People can no longer afford entertainment due to Hunger, revolution will happen in the ‘twinkling’ of their eyes.

Then appears radical changes required to re-distribute personal incomes, wealth, education, land, employment and maybe just after the blood-shed ceases; hope and a future for generations yet to come. Without these changes, socialist elements will always exist; and alway subordinate to the gross inequalities of capitalist elements.

Commodities and wages paid—equal the organization of production and the payment of labor. Any Social constructions under Capitalism such as; Social Security, Medicare, Welfare, Unemployment, Job-Training, etc. are financed by tax revenues extracted from the Workers and taxes paid by the purchases of these commodities.

Additional taxes—if not hidden—are extracted from profits. Those ‘hidden profits’ are called taxes not paid through tax avoidance (illegally-legal) in a capitalistic social structure…

Basic services and ‘welfare’ measures are dependent on the dynamics of a healthy capitalist sector and a strong tax base—Maybe the Workers of the World? Only thru a profitable and corruptible government growing rich, may a Social Democratic entity deliver ‘necessary goods’ to the People?

Damned therefore, is the ability of anything recently called a ‘Social Democratic government’ to reference socialism or to remotely shape a class structure. The practice of Democratic Socialism in the USA is inherently self-destructive.

If it attempts to redistribute any form of wealth it threatens to destroy the engines of a corrupt capitalistic-wealth-creation and greed maintenance government. Without true socialism the workers of the world always lose and remember… Socialism does not destroy the concept of individuality.

Is the time for Revolution near?

And! Beautiful you are…

Beginning Rights-Writes-Ending…

51Plague begins and ends as people-folks end and begin…Called! Robot death or death of substrate or the walkers that carry Eternal Spirits as Spirit passes a world or ten or a thousand places across Life’s Universe. Warmed to the form of you and me and the us and them of this here and this now.

And! Time is damned except by those tellers of time and those singers of timed songs. When futures’ laugh…Moments span the days of does not matter minutes and dances twirling into relief.

Once sweet Tsaritsa Alexandra and her babies lost life and gained the weight of bullets and steel knives somewhere before a reason and the rhythm of master-slave-king-queen-poverty-rich and lyrical poor, changed the balance of futures’ past tomorrows.

Brief times—when futures’ laugh as past smiles and memories wail softly into the death of darkness and of light. Cults rarely live except inside mind-spin-doubt-fear and folly.

Cellars split and life’s reformation happens then in now and once in Ekaterinburg—as secreted consecration both; cursed and blessed folk-thoughts people-deep as the Urals remained where mountains live and humanity touched quality-beauty-sense and balanced while steeped in pretense and folly and song.

Daughters and knives must never mix and women must never fall in battle—only fall-in-love. Let these things be written by the singer of songs and the writers of poetry and into the heart of life…

We dance Universe…you and I—hand-to-hand-shoulder-touched-lips-to-eyes and never tears. Eternal Spirits cannot cry and never Universes’ end and we are Spirit and Spirits never die. Robot once then again and again and…

Angels fly in starship to scout where next to stop-land-wait-end-and begin again-begin. In star-ships the folds of space shortens the distance between star-light and star-bright and the day of night.

In starship, galaxy edge and galaxy center matters only to the standing one at waters’ edge on planet-fall. Small is a matter of size and nothing less than sky-lights and heaven’s length.

Animals are the earth and inside the wind they are large and strong and brave as fur coats ruffle and scents bring reality to the real self and imagination. I am man and you are woman and we are both not interchangeable.

But Love! Is the spirit of heart and soul—does not require name or title or reason or permission or through the grace of…? No! Things called government nor religious-named or senate or congress or court or king or country has right or reason to legislate or forbid the strength of Love between anyone…Oh! Hell no.

Stop the builders of weapons! Too late? For sword grow as shield grows as bomb-to-drone-to- the shrieks of madness drown to silence the gentle swish and swoon of love and touch and care and taste and the sweetness of dove’s morning cry and the living sound of baby cries and gurgles and…

Instead— let us again dance across these universes while we wish to dance. Let us then spirit-dance—when the flesh of non-interchangeability sheds substances and gains sustenance. Life spark-sparkles forever; then lends light to darkness knowing this is good-sweet.

We are Children of the same Verses of these Universes—We have the Right to be Everywhere…

And! Beautiful you are…