Ships Silently Appear…

932“Flow my tears, fall from your springs!
Exiled forever let me mourn;
Where night’s black bird her sad infamy sings,
There let me live forlorn.” …by Philip K. Dick

Watch and look—to see—or be—those—little spirits’—‘round-about’—a Celtic gale—clench rail—too high—to ride—tops-of-salt-seas—storm breeze—and—‘to-fro’ days of light—before darkness dawns—and falls again… And! How many atoms required—to shadow cast? Does protection always equal servitude? Is democracy the worst form—of government—except—for all the others? Mind shift—to mind drift—if objectively—thoughts objective exist—without confines of mind’s twirl or swirl—when world—structures-cause-pause—property-objects-subjects—to unrequited senses—failure-to-notice or interest loss—just after—occurrence—at once—appear and fade away—as quick as daylight—lights—a losing way? News-then-commercial-then-news-then commercial—‘til—channel switch—dim—mind search—to next second—then lost. Surround—a system of gold—or surround—a system of water—then ‘lots of gold—around here’—or—‘lots of water here’—either equal—with or without eyes-to-see or minds-to-be…So! Meanings-of-most—are not always—mind sides’—ride or slides. Are quantities—also same?

Issues external—internal sensed—derived—from reliability source—or sourced—sorted—through—truth search—lurch—internally structured—reach—teach or bleach—amid throngs—of wrongs—and torn—into snow-white right—lily white—lie—either dismissed—accepted—rejected—corrected—into—inside-out applicability—or not—workable until altered—internally-externally—prior to exposed or imposed upon—the confusion of mass-squeak-speak…What-righteous—ride—when whispers—smiles and sighs—and quiet nods—wood-would—be better-eh? And! Does protection always equal servitude?

When—brain knows—humanities’ finest moments…Love—Peace—Touch—and—Trust…No charges or gains or losses—Flashes between the realities—of reality—and those sweet spaces—just an instant prior—then lips touch—co-mingled breath—warms the cold—evening air. A rational—response—to rational—insanity. A second—when no one stares into empty space—without—noticing starlight’s—star bright—and—starships passing between—light-speed and arrival—silently appear. When everyone—everywhere—and—in-all-places— between skies—ground—realize—what we do not have—does not mean—anything… Feeling color—through both eyes—and—with our fingers. Hearing—a lover’s voice—touch our heart— before—substance becomes words—of meaning-or-reason-or-another—notion. When silence—so—completely fills all senses—with thunder and noise—and—music and notes—chaotic—or symphonic—simplicity—as duality ceases—and singularity—melts into universal polarity—and— truth. And! Does protection always equal servitude?

When the—you-of-me—becomes—a-never-ever—enemy-mine—and the boarders—between living and dying—fade away—as the greed-of-destruction—destroy—the greedy nations—of earth-sky—and—trades—of imbalanced—balance—earth-ceases—and—decreases—the rich-or-the-poor—or—the education of stupidity or—the ad infinitum of—better-me-than-you-god meaner-than your god—my way and your way—is not—a direction apart—instead—just another direction…Are we—not all travelers—scattered across—someplace-somewhere? We are not timed—or blessed—or wonderful—or gifted—or fortunate—or meant-to-be a ‘something else’— without a price-tagged-branded-commodity—of enhanced—steroidal—surgically modified—blast of cartoon fashion—or lip-stick mouths—pouted and mounted—on another pictured—perfect and—replicated glossy—imitation of sport manned—model swished—dish of corruption—with a splash—dash of hopeless—and—fanatic—fantasy. And! Does protection always equal servitude?

The Us-of-all—people—of a—sweet twirl—whirl—of world—We are not—-names of—branded folks—or—slaves-to-the–wages of—our governments of violence—or—infections—of a thousand—virulent religious markets—scattered among the blood—of people-speak. Remember! Magical hands fill quickly—with currency—and the tongues of many—fear-spew lies—against people—creatively mingled—along—a thousand creative gods—called many names—and—both feared and soon— forgotten. The love-of-man and the love-of-woman and of freedoms—will not—be divided—by the capital of greed—nor the power—of stalled legislation—nor by—an impotent executive branch—or a purchased—judicial robed— incumbent and incomplete—with sugar and—strange sounding songs…Remember! All—are created by an equal mixture—of both women and men—rich or poor—and—beyond the borders of a-wherever-boarder—for non-reasons and steeped- in-the-fallacy—of color—big guns—atomics’—and an eternal diatribe of isolation—individuality and Fear…We! Have the Right-to-be—Everywhere… And! Does protection always equal servitude?

And! Beautiful you are…

‘Trouble’…By TV On The Radio

 

 

21 comments on “Ships Silently Appear…

  1. “We are not—-names of—branded folks—or—slaves-to-the–wages of—our governments of violence—or—infections—of a thousand—virulent religious markets—scattered among the blood—of people-speak.”

    We are so much more.

    Beautifully expressed.

  2. In the aftermath of the disgraceful assault on liberty in Paris and yet more mindless violence in Beirut your words resonate with me more than ever. I have copied this and printed it to share with a professor friend of mine in London later this week. It is really quite a stunning eulogy on mankind.

    • Hi Osyth…Thank you! Paris is our ‘City of Light’—Paris will always be our ‘City of Light’…Across our sweet world—Life cries…Wishing you days- of-powerful-Love and nights-of-gentle-Peace…Phil

  3. But we still are… that counts! Mankind should provide some sanity… we are going strait to self-destruction and now, just to put some more suspense, after Paris happenings… our governments realized that there is no more time to waste… and what? They start bombing for revenge, killing thousand and thousand of civilian, childs and older, woman and man… But we still are… my question: until when?

    • Hi Claudine…Yes! ‘We still are’…And! The terror of the ‘Industrial War Machine’ is always busy…”Only love can bring the rain—That makes you yearn to the sky—Only love can bring the rain—That falls like tears from on high—Love, reign o’er me—Rain on me, rain on me—Love, reign o’er me—Rain on me, rain on me”…by The Who…Wishing you days of Gentle winds—Soft curves and Wonder…Phil

  4. I love Philip K. Dick’s novels… Mille merci! Thanx, Sir! Paris will always be… PARIS – the symbol of FREEDOM, by definition and by excellence…
    * * *
    “A Moveable Feast” – “Paris est une fête” by Ernest Hemingway

    “If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast… When we came back to Paris it was clear and cold and lovely… There is never any ending to Paris and the memory of each person who has lived in it differs from that of any other. We always returned to it no matter who we were or how it was changed or with what difficulties, or ease, it could be reached. Paris was always worth it and you received return for whatever you brought to it… You belong to me and all Paris belongs to me…

    Paris was never to be the same again although it was always Paris and you changed as it changed… You expected to be sad in the Fall. Part of you died each year when the leaves fell from the trees and their branches were bare against the wind and the cold, wintry light. But you knew there would always be the spring, as you knew the river would flow again after it was frozen. When the cold rains kept on and killed the spring, it was as though a young person had died for no reason. In those days, though, the spring always came finally but it was frightening that it had nearly failed…”

    • Hi Mél@nie…Thanks! Paris is ‘La Ville Lumière’ and Paris will always be ‘La Ville Lumière’! I too—love the writing of Philip K. Dick…Thanks for the notes from “A Moveable Feast” – “Paris est une fête” by Ernest Hemingway…Particularly—“You expected to be sad in the Fall. Part of you died each year when the leaves fell from the trees and their branches were bare against the wind and the cold, wintry light. But you knew there would always be the spring, as you knew the river would flow again after it was frozen. When the cold rains kept on and killed the spring, it was as though a young person had died for no reason.” You are Creative Spirit! Wishing you days-of-Powerful-Love and nights-of-Gentle Peace…Phil

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s