Blue Planet Waste

3025

“Heart is a Drum”

‘Free as a driving wheel
Circling around your iron will
See only what you feel
Keeps you turning when you’re standing still
You tried to run from trouble when it comes
You followed the drum keeping time with everyone

High as the light of day
You’re falling down across your lost highway
Pain – does it hurt this way?
To come so far to find they’ve closed the gates?
You’ve lost your tongue when you fall from the pendulum
Your heart is a drum keeping time with everyone

Everyone, if they drown from the undertow
Need to find someone to show me how to play it slow
And just let it go

Your eyes get stung by the rays of the sinking sun
You follow the drum keeping time with everyone
Going beat beat, it’s beating me down
Beat beat beat beat, it’s beating me down
Day after day, it’s turning around
‘til all my days are drowning out’…written by Beck Hansen

What causes us to be happy? Who dares control happiness, a government or person, or a religion? Our innermost voices clarify what and what not to do. Just listen! Mind washed since birth; tis the survival of ‘a’ pack. However, all packs ubiquitously run same, eat same, same be-we; fast-slow, weak-strong-hungry-not-smarter than a what and still love our young ones. And! Maybe only reason ‘We’ be, donchaknow. Imagine! Just make believe that when we wake-up, Love-Peace and Understanding is always the world of reality and we have accidentally been watching a horror film in a theater from hell and for our entertainment only.

Illustrate now those pictures; of these caves and these walls and these tribes of we and me and us and them and before the storm and after the end of rains of winds and bumping things and silent shrieks, once loud and now absent from ear and fear and tear. Sounds of life understood ‘cross a million miles of rock ‘n’ roll till another day of storms and another night of passion shadow dance beneath a star-lighted ceiling. Again! Share moments and lives and the sovereignty of animation. Blood and love are the matter of the matter and the survival of survivors from whatever gods and from wherever storms.

Steve Biko, the South African activist who was murdered by the apartheid regime while he was in custody—once said, “The most powerful weapon in the hands of the oppressor is the mind of the oppressed.”

We labor in these fields beneath sing-song wires and lengths of wave grain toward the forever of sight while out or in and back again. Brushed wind and white tunics and seagull wings waving over soil black and breeze, seeded with hands to-bags-to-sky-to-flip ‘cross ground rich, water ditch to return again ‘til tunic loss shapes and disappear into the bluest evening mist of planet wash and evening spin.

We circle now toward forked roadways beyond sighted-righted places and our stars of guiding trails twisted, misted, shakes and quakes push-pull us toward left trails or right paths. Guiding compass, lodestone or stars point the way in only one direction to go and to return toward this direction taken always pointed and pointing toward us…

Spin World is celebrated. World is good; as is balance of wheel, syncopation true, symmetry of cut grass-to-lawn-to green-grow-too-to- ‘from’ then cuts again to match eye’s sight either wrong or right. Needs to cheat each-to-other, one or two then more too many score before others-do-to-you survival required to win to lose too many to count or rout before the ‘over-of-out’ begins again? Then spin us twirls of balance-speak of world perfections of balance squeak when one thing dies while others survive the lies of imperfect Gods’ whirls, imperfect twirls from nothing losses and nothing gains. Then ‘we all’ again remain…

“The family is the natural and fundamental unit of society and needs to be protected by Society and the State.” (Article 16 (3) of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights). Slums are the creations of Capitalist Elites…And! Maybe Truth is a Fiction of the Mind?

And! Beautiful you are…

Spins Without Time…

“Poetry can communicate before it is understood” —T.S. Eliot

Speculating at Earth’s center if life ends? Liquid center or rock or a combination? Is the epicenter too lifeless to explore or too far to travel or too uninteresting to understand? So much of our Sea is unfamiliar. It is closer than Mars and alive with treasures still not revealed. Why?

‘The strength of humanity is not found in simple machines.’

We have technology to stop the allowance of carbon dioxide to billow and blow and seep and reek and fill our polluted air as it remains, better now, but not best. Greed is the price of oil. Energy from the sun and wind is not yet a generation of profit. We must change this greed into prosperity for everyone. Do not hide riches behind the needs of non-enemies. Immigration made America what it demands to be and immigrants from everywhere must continue this purpose.

‘The strength of humanity is not found in simple machines.’

We constantly create workarounds. Until there are fewer folks, machines are never required. Profits come from slavery. Profits are portions of wages not paid and needed. Stop creating enemies that are not the enemy. And! Racism is eternal slavery. Brown and white are the same. We have struggled to become better. We have combined strengths to overcome daily injustice and wars against one another. Prevailing winds, strong sails and people cross oceans and soon will reach-out, touching first planets and then the stars.

‘Together we survive and together we thrive.’

Believe in the strength of humanity. Together we survive. Together we thrive. Together we face tomorrow’s miracles and challenges and fears and tears. Together we live and together we die. QuickTime and we move on as Eternal Spirits we were and as Eternal Spirits we are yesterday, today and tomorrow—ad infinitum. Mankind creates Gods of fear and retribution. Visitors from the heavens are these Gods. We create Eternal Spirits, housed by fleshy points but only for a brief time.

Words flow and designed to express or depress thought flow and in pour, poor-to-great with mean truth or bent to lies, exaggerations or pour more…The covers here leak and reach high into the colder places of Calimesa City. Dreams caught between waking and sleeping, to mind-speak and sometimes dreams are easy and difficult to share. There is another language used in Dreaming. Understanding and not is still learning a path toward wisdom! Please believe in ‘humanity’s strength’ for together we survive and together we thrive! Together we face tomorrow’s miracles and challenges and fears and tears. Together we live and together we die.

‘Imbalance destroys too much!’

We live on an orbiting motion groove. It is a large Mother-ship capable of supporting our species and many other lifeforms. Our spaceship is a dangerous place. Uncivil in many areas. Cruel because imbalance destroys so much. We are the caretakers of this orb. We destroy more than we create. We are a ‘throw-away’ species. We are a sad group of consumers with too many choices and greed infused into everything we cherish.

Block universes spin without time and without dimensions three. As occurrences occur and may never be where changes never-were and within blocks must find pasts presents and presents in future’s long-time ago. And! Is it faster if we move thru space or if space moves through us? We move toward mountain or mountain moves toward us? Illusions-in mind spin are as real as memories of futures moving ahead, out-of-sight, but still inside kept…So! Together links of gravity strong nuclear electromagnetic weak into unified theory and still linking the theory of gravity to the theory of quantum mechanics fails eludes mind skips to time slips.

‘Wandering to wondering about Moses.’

We do remove those ‘for granted’ blinders’-of-right-sight and often look skyward to search and find a light. Those wormholes or cosmic cross universes near and far and still ‘we’ see the vast of power blast possibilities of relativity’s loopholes and just hope-know-now that ‘warp drive’ may span distance ‘cross space, time wonders while wandering about in Moses’s time wilderness speaks ‘til speed crease cease and earth-lock unlock free ‘childhood’s end’ while into space we seek-creep as star-child begins again.

Instead warp drive space folds as space-time continues and arrives for us as distortions bends and separations wide are right ‘next door.’ “More is less and less is more.” Bubble-ride the twirling whirl and glide inside safe as spaces-of-space fabric rich move our bubble ships wait-not-wait as space-time expands then contracts and relativity’s restrictions fades alongside trails of star-dust–must and space knows ‘no’ rules or reasons only rhythm and everlasting rhyme…

 ‘And! Bubbles do move across Space.’

The ‘Universal-Limits-of-Speed’ is applicable to ‘Bubbles-Moving-Through-Space’ not applied to Space itself. During space’s inflationary moments did Space-Time manage speeds through infinite accelerations infinitely faster than Light Speed-ride-glide and slide? The continuation of the Space-Time Continuum may also suggest that Large Bangs of Starts and whimpers of stops are possibly ‘End of Time’ as Inflationary moments fade as star dust trails begin and end as we ‘too-twos’ also always ‘do.’

‘Ancient Light and Ancient Stars.’

If time real does cease in a few more billions-of-years, the Universal Everything may also halt-grind-to-slow to stop. Could Would the Energy-of-Darkness the anti-gravitational singsong provide proof of the positive-of-the-negative? What if we are ‘looking backward’? What if the expansion of ‘Universe Accelerating’ is actually ‘Time’—slowing down? Unnoticed everyday yet so obvious when cosmic-scale-measures universe-tracking over billions of years? Ancient Light and Ancient Stars and the everlasting trails of Magic Dusts across the Eternal Sky…

We measure all things known and all things unknown. We treasure quantities, lengths of short, of tall and tales of being beings both big and small ‘because we are ‘Spirits of Creation’ we are ‘Creative Critters’ one-and-all.

And! Beautiful you are…

Fingertip Stories…

It is the duty of us all to ensure that our society remain one of which we are proud, not a society wary of immigrants and intent on their expulsion or a society that disputes the welfare state or a society in which the media are controlled by the wealthy. We would oppose such things were we true heirs to the National Council of the Resistance.”— By Stephane Hessel

We are émigrés of this sphere. In a blaze of mystery or notions or nicks or knacks or reasons or rhymes, we move through time and place and home and toward one-to-another. We are the directors ‘blood of red’ same air and the singers of fictional truths drawn by spirits same and the dreamers of courage and the chance of hopes. We are the past, the present and the days of future gambols. We are the virtuosity Gods!  We are life, all growing and all walking and all crawling and all swimming. We are Life; perfect and unstoppable. And! It is always better to fall in love than to fall in battle!

‘The young man goes out looking for the diamond in the sea
the old man rows his boat to shore and falls with twisted knees

And you’ll drown before the water lets you in
Yeah, you drown before the water lets you in

The feeling that I feel the most is the one that follows me
all across the starry coast from sea to diamond sea

Says you’ll drown before the water lets you in
Yeah, you drown before the water lets you in

I think the thing I wanted most was just never meant to be
a thousand waves, a thousand ghosts their sorrows follow me

And you’ll drown before the water lets you in
Yeah, you drown before the water lets you in’…
“The Water Lets You In”by Book Of Fears

These are the salty ways of salted seas and flecks of foam scatter along shore-sided shifts of sand from wet to dry and dune rise above and beyond watered edges before ruined boardwalks remind nothing of something once savored and watched and known by forgotten ones—once upright writers of the times and the sounds of ‘days of a future’s past.’ Still! We all cross spaces along these places of the races in time gathered and night ships crossing heaven’s ragged ridges…

Lights at the end of the world. Now! See those lights across these thousand worlds—welcome home to places you have started and places to begin again or again or on another day’s end and another night’s beginning. Drums to market those marks of time we call our own as heart beats begin again and ticks for a while of wills, coming around the corners of spaces in places seen or forgotten or found once for many crossings of spaces and races and time.

Steel Riders pause by waterside as tides of water kiss shoreline’s wavelength along with one hundred sounds and as gulls ride the dips of above and around piers of ruined wood and splintered ages where once the seaside existed and tide changes mattered to boat anchored and ships sailing against the evening lines. The water’s edge and the skies of blue and pink and red and orange and yellow turn as earth spins sets sunlight to softness and twinkles of sky lighted canvas sheets the blue gray into darkness and stars light the sailor’s way along the caverns of space and place and the race of time.

Entity Religion is in constant enmity with one another? Satirizes self-contented morality and suggests that in the end all religious groups are going to engage in violent and selfish acts regardless of their professed moral teachings. Just another Government and ‘governing whimsy’ is corrupt, nasty and destructive. Religions’ immaculate contortions, ‘American Style’ twist in-out of ‘the Separation of Church and State’ producing a ‘Governmental Right to Legislate Morality?  Wrong! For only Lovers-have-Lovers’-sacred-right-to-Love. Love is being! Morality is a selfish word…

Portion-for-us and scatter across understanding, simplicity and the variances in relativity either linguistically determined or silenced by rain loud along with gentle beginnings or the whispers of fire-fly wings and lighting. Wait! Eyes closed and listen to the thunder rolling ‘cross separated skies as unseen flashes knight the ocean and crash booms into that silent space between raindrops and life. Science eternally dances with superstition. Once and often either momentarily wins something-of-else or another choice-to-follow. Crossroads to matter, chances to spark and destiny always flirts with other, up-and-about or perhaps.

Real Sea, we will see and another and another; of water-ships up, and places far away. This is here and between landings another beach to reach quickly discovered then thrown away. Dragging the lines of surf’s fall and rise as waves dash high into moonless sky and crash along miles of sand and shoreline. Sea inhale and exhale and breathe again and time marks nothing when endless and everlasting. So! Forever ‘surf’s up’ on the eternal sea, so alive and just for me!

And! Beautiful you are…

Reaching Summer Minds…

“It started with workers’ evening classes outside the city gates. Her kind blue eyes would sparkle as she told me in a rote, sing-song voice of the importance of awakening the workers’ class consciousness. Happy for her and realized what a joy it must be to discover some all-consuming goal”. …by Larissa

To look for and destroy others due to divergences in shape, in scope, in tint, in notions or faith is intention with no ‘assonance or intelligence’. The colored fibers of an arras must be many and without reason, for life has no meaning if lacking variety and noise and without sing choirs and time.

Recall younger days when single word shapes, we discussed with countless deliberation; is good in young minds, and it is also good to be an idealist and always better to implement, then to watch struggles decrease and die. Intent is formal rhythm as informal ventures and voices we share often, by a multitude of straight forward mind-speak. Shriek and speak, peak, and realize the up-down issues of a United People or a Distant Society, and just listen to murmured fabrications in the dark.

Is Dancing-in-the-dark prudent practice, or is unawareness as idyllic as lingering to trace flowers with eyes-to-face-to-ground and then to drift away into silence? Principles determine how to restrain shares of humanity’s essentials, wants, hopes, and fears. While the Constitution of America is noble, it is an impractical paradigm. Its structures are impossible to apply since values adjust swiftly. Standards amend and are either normally just or abnormally unjust. We are conscious of the ‘Military Industrial Complex’. Will the current actions of 2020, imply the termination of any hopes to continue our righteous and upright and ethical Freedoms? Freedom’s endurance or America’s Dreams-of-Direction is its independent spirit. Justice be a damnable notion to quantify, to find and to practice properly. This Republic may not be clever enough to follow this fragile and undoubtedly corruptible Representative Democracy.

Touch me with sing-song poems. Forget the world and touch me with voice. We two—too need those requiring words of hope. And! Verses of love’s together-forever. Whilst! Dark dancing with rhythm in our minds and drumbeats in our hearts…

A lighthouse, countless lifetimes gone, spark as great beams sweep across sight line discharge and disappear only to eternally reappear. Pulsars pulse power ‘cross a sparkling firmament. A blood moon appears, and ears perk for Wolf’s lunar call. Cold and bright stars spot night beyond rooftops and always brighter as moonlight slips closer to the earth. Early morning and snow curves to white silver and interwoven shadows of leafless limbs and long trunks stand between the moon and ground touch. Black way now white; a gentle declination from community’s frontage and down another moderate rise.

Being afraid to exist is the notion of moving through a barely recollected time of future’s fate and prior to another trip-in-time. Government is controlling an alienated society and the anterior faith in promises and desires. The elected ones cannot move toward either truth or nonfiction due to the simple reasons that lying is the easiest form of communication. And! None seem to care.

Life flows thru vein-to-brain then ink flows and magic often flat is smooth and…And! Mind speaks simplicity with force combined to shout future verse with yesterday’s sweet silence. To listen! To pronounce and become choir sing-song’s harmonious visions so softly. Is truth found here? Is in communities ‘cross land and seaside channels a fact that each community found discovers itself on the verge of losing every part and every parcel of any fortune or any chance of regaining any semblance of harmony, love and joy?

We are effective at destroying ‘the enemy’; so proficient, that we are unable to identify an adversary from a ‘maybe or almost’ the same blood-red animation we want or desire to embrace—not race but begin and end with a sometimes or almost never-ever or requiring an absolute maybe? Global reasons to exist will conclude as divisions increase hate and ignorance and vacuous nationalism and abject failure of new realities, as greed continues its evil. Constant learning is another form of survival’s attempts to animate. We supply the poise required to afford physical sustenance, covering and haven. What is the sacrifice for this equilibrium? Why? We accept these ‘all the time’ situations as unalterable and unavoidable and ‘so it must be true’, this way of life’s life.

‘Tulips’

“The tulips are too excitable; it is winter here.

Look how white everything is, how quiet, how snowed-in.

I am learning peacefulness, lying by myself quietly

As the light lies on these white walls, this bed, these hands.

I am nobody; I have nothing to do with explosions.

I have given my name and my day-clothes up to the nurses

And my history to the anesthetist and my body to surgeons. 

They have propped my head between the pillow and the sheet-cuff

Like an eye between two white lids that will not shut.

Stupid pupil, it has to take everything in.

The nurses pass and pass, they are no trouble,

They pass the way gulls pass inland in their white caps,

Doing things with their hands, one just the same as another,

So, it is impossible to tell how many there are. 

My body is a pebble to them, they tend it as water

Tends to the pebbles it must run over, smoothing them gently.

They bring me numbness in their bright needles, they bring me sleep.

Now I have lost myself I am sick of baggage——

My patent leather overnight case like a black pillbox,

My husband and child smiling out of the family photo.

Their smiles catch onto my skin, little smiling hooks.

I have let things slip, a thirty-year-old cargo boat

Stubbornly hanging on to my name and address.

They have swabbed me clear of my loving associations.

Scared and bare on the green plastic-pillowed trolley

I watched my tea-set, my bureaus of linen, my books

Sink out of sight, and the water went over my head.

I am a nun now; I have never been so pure. 

I didn’t want any flowers, I only wanted

To lie with my hands turned up and be utterly empty.

How free it is, you have no idea how free——

The peacefulness is so big it dazes you,

And it asks nothing, a name tag, a few trinkets.

It is what the dead close on, finally; I imagine them

Shutting their mouths on it, like a Communion tablet.  

The tulips are too red in the first place, they hurt me.

Even through the gift paper I could hear them breathe

Lightly, through their white swaddling, like an awful baby.

Their redness talks to my wound, it corresponds.

They are subtle: they seem to float, though they weigh me down,

Upsetting me with their sudden tongues and their color,

A dozen red lead sinkers round my neck.

Nobody watched me before, now I am watched.

The tulips turn to me, and the window behind me

Where once a day the light slowly widens and slowly thins,

And I see myself, flat, ridiculous, a cut-paper shadow

Between the eye of the sun and the eyes of the tulips,

And I have no face, I have wanted to efface myself.

The vivid tulips eat my oxygen. 

Before they came the air was calm enough,

Coming and going, breath by breath, without any fuss.

Then the tulips filled it up like a loud noise.

Now the air snags and eddies round them the way a river

Snags and eddies round a sunken rust-red engine.

They concentrate my attention, that was happy

Playing and resting without committing itself. 

 The walls, also, seem to be warming themselves.

The tulips should be behind bars like dangerous animals.

They are opening like the mouth of some great African cat,

And I am aware of my heart: it opens and closes

Its bowl of red blooms out of sheer love of me.

The water I taste is warm and salt, like the sea,

And comes from a country far away as health”. — ‘Tulips’ by Sylvia Plath

And! Beautiful you are…

‘Spellbound’Lacuna Coil

From Templates to Tears…

“You see, I really have to tell you
That it all gets so intense
From my experience
It just doesn’t seem to make sense
Still you turn me on
Hmm, you turn me on.”Greg Lake

The soft sounds of wind pushing pine needles ‘cross autumn’s forest floor and the silent serenity after snow’s midnight fall. If impulse is response then decision is evolution. In 1610, Johannes Kepler chanced a walk across the celebrated Charles Bridge in Prague and as snow fall begin to catch on his coat, he brushed away six-sided flakes from the cloth covering his arms. While gathering more of these flakes, Johannes realized that they were all six-sided and he marveled at the convenience of this discovery and the perspicacious brain and the extraordinary curiosity of the human mind; quantified within the quality of, spiritual being.

Magically! Birds transform the air they breathe into surprisingly sweet songs.

Beneath surface and far below Segment Star, two and one half billion spirits live and labor and ache and fail and love and hate along with many sunless days and nights of starlight gone or ignored and remembered when mind switches from bonded illumination to those blind mix slips between neon’s shine and semi-sweet chocolate dusk. Light is saturated in creamy grey and night becomes thick swirls of vanilla warmth were blended shadows shake. Machine wonders and spirits guide the processes of robot arms and legs and watch through robot eyes and hear through robot ears and once or often weep spirit tears and die never-ever-even if a book-or-ten call living ‘sins of flesh’ when spirited robots must live and die and forever move into dusted star-streams while dancing among a trillion light twinkles sketched across the winter’s sky. From twins of two the power of life sparks and alone-never places begin and end.

The concentration of control and the circulation of capital to an exceedingly few; ensures a coordinated manipulation of power. And! When a united concentration of influence becomes intolerable, abuse of authority from within occurs. Businesses are weakened, are malformed and ultimately discover their own expiration dates. After rebellions; old paradigms are changed and what was because; becomes what possibly happens and for that reason, becomes what could be happening, becomes what just happened along with those shocks and shouts of perchance or songs of renewal; maybe, become just another equivalent, once more. Businesses are expected to maximize production and slash expenditures? This essentially increases greed and corners those essential laborers of productions’ intensification into wage captivity?

And! By what means, do we ‘become skilled at’ manipulating our own free inclinations, to achieve; whatever, regulations demands us to accomplish? How are the differing views and values and expressions and the hopes and beliefs of ‘common folk’ found and drown round ‘quitting time’ and treated and completed and continued and amended and silenced by ‘formidable and influential folk?’ We finance singularity; beginning with genetic fancy, and eternally forfeiting the damages of remedy’s obverse exit. Factions orbit while curving outward in free resolve. Published freedoms and outside thoughts are bent-broken-borrowed-lost-stolen and rapt; within those white spaces, linking black ink and rhyme.

“When I gasp for strength
I borrow it from you, oh the strong ones!
You carry the load stupendous
Of the humanity
Time and time again
Since the dawn of awareness

How do you do that I wonder
The weight of ignorance
The mountain of evil
The heaps of malice
of billions (and countlessly repeated)
You carry the cross of non-love alone
Time and time again
For others to feel loved
Appreciated and pleased

How do you do that I wonder
How do you stay so calm
Amid the whirlpool of clamor
Kind and compassionate
In devouring face of brutality and mayhem
How do you spread your light
Right through the forest
of fear, delusion and stupor
You salvage the soul
For others to be safe
And to feel light and restful
In a life of little wisdom

How do you do that I wonder
How do you spread your magic
Of charm, nobility and honor
In hearts so dark there
that beasts may refuse a habitation
How do you pull that trick
of giving the innocence back
so that he is human again!
How do you enthrall
the dull, the doped, the ordinary
to carry the torch
of your divine glory

Oh load-bearers of humanity
I wonder how you carry the load so awesome
But when I gasp for strength
I take refuge in your strength
I take refuge in you!”…Bhaswat Chakraborty

Today’s corporations; spinning across our planet-of-twirl, are necessary. And! While this Republic does embrace and dance and dodge and halve-a-partial régime of our Democratic notions into palatable, chunks-to-bites-to-morsels, would this waltz of Democracy also include; an ability to prevent, all abuses of power by: our government, our labor, our capital and our management.

“In the shadow of the steeple I saw my people
By the relief office I see my people
As they stood there hungry, I stood there asking
Is this land made for you and me?”Woody Guthrie

Organizations ought to recognize that uninterrupted existence; as presently realized, is the perceptive notion that the environmental aftermath of too much for too few with too many ‘no’ and too few ‘yes’—ultimately totals ‘No’ for everything and everyone. An “Atlas Shrug” and Corporations spontaneously know that ‘acquiring must forever be balanced with providing.’ This is not a “wig-waggle’ of Socialism-vs-Capitalism. This not a ‘giggle-wiggle’ of “We the People-vs-the Wall Street island-of-Greed.” No! Serving in balance with taking; is in step, with Workers. And! Labor is the swivel of our Universe and Profits either rise or fall with; equality and societies’ advancement; good-to-better and never good-to-worse. Possibly! The potency of progress; is the track toward a higher moral ‘Code of Corporate’ behavior the world over.

Our Republic; may be able to purpose, previous and present-day and potential paradigms to divide, to constrain, to reproach, to restrict, to relinquish and to rescind. Bereft of legitimate commitments through our Republic’s Branches three: Judicial, Legislative and Executive; where seldom a harmonies phrase of musical rhyme or rhythm exists; perhaps notions of balance, will be realized by Corporate examination and the equivalence of construction and remuneration will succeed sans a Workers’ Revolution. And! Through a far-fetched glimpse into an unidentified and mysterious prospect; since Corporations are created to hide ‘fact and fiction,’ perhaps all Cooperative blurs will ‘gain a soul’ during these successes.

Often and ‘round countless dinner tables, it is believed that Calimesa Sea is where the world ends. No one has ever crossed the sea, so no one really knows where the water ends and land begins. Perhaps, sea wraps earth and returns to the base of Calimesa Hills. An invisible dome encloses Sky Mountains where no one lives or visits or touches or appreciates. Truth? And! When again ‘surfs-up’ and extreme rollers recover coastline sections and earth; would rather dwell, in the Villages of Fisher-folk than in the standings of middling automata minus machined chis and sans productive motives and rising forlorn as ‘wave-crash’ claims us all. Remember! We do entirety.

Now! Drink a Bourbon ‘kinda’ whiskey at the Ginger colored Inn. A dark and harsh moon; pale to be and faint to see and along-way-off-to-touch-skin. Wind begins to-end–tonight. Begins to stop again, as Spirits depart and windows have no views.

And! Beautiful you are…

 

‘On Walpurgis Nicht.’ Performed by FAUN

 

‘Lucky Man’…By Greg Lake
Performed by the Keith Emerson Band

Of Deadlines And Dancing Code…

Missing so—Our Wonderful Creative Spirits and Life’s’—wonderful sharing—of Writing—of Drawing—of Painting—of Thoughts—of Dreamscapes and…

Contracts are work and work is survival—and support. Support is Love and Care and Responsibility—responding to our—day-to-day—too necessary—to—and a (nine-to-five) —becomes a (six-to six) then a…Wowzer and rest begins and ends too quickly to…No complaints—just missing—the touch of Creative Spirits—in mind’s eyes—in eye’s mind—in heart beats—spirit seeks and pleasure…

Dancing with Code—a Creative Spirit—walks into spaces—between—zero and one—and one and zero. And! Those spaces between Yes and No—are too small—too large—to miss and often never noticed. ‘Time flies—when busy’ and the pulls—tug both hearts and minds—diverse and confused—solutions both; simple and complex—lost and found and again lost only to be found—regarded—discarded or—implemented—compiled—and again—Code Balloons fly—‘cross million wires—into simple ‘Yes and No’…’No and Yes’— while surprises—simple—often operate complexities of—surprise and survival.

  • Why use dashes? A little wig-waggle—a stop and a start is simple—fun scratching—the itch—of grammar—the rules of composition—dash-dot—goes Code Balloons—into a sky—filled with ‘Yes and No.’

“Love is the force that binds together and moves everything in the universe—creatures and objects are part of a total motion without top or bottom, gravity or resistance” … Chagall

“But time has no beginnings and history has no bounds
As to this verdant country they came from all around
They sailed upon her waterways and they walked the forests tall
And they built the mines the mills and the factories for the good of us all”…by Gordon Lightfoot

Is it Leadership or just US—requiring change—requiring solidarity—And! Needing Love…What is the ‘Cost of Poverty’ and the Charge for ‘Disappearing the Middle Class?’

The ‘Administrative Government’…According to Philip Hamburger (a constitutional scholar and winner of Manhattan Institute’s Hayek Prize) is Unlawful—“Our government can choose to proceed against (You) in a trial with constitutional processes, or it can use an ‘administrative’ proceeding where (You) don’t have a right to be heard by a real judge or a jury and you don’t have the full due process of Law. Our fundamental procedural freedoms, which once where guarantees, have become mere options.” (taken from the ‘Opinion’ page—A13 of the WSJ—June 10-11, 2017 by John Tierney)

‘Bon Voyage’ diversity into smaller hopes and greater fears. Such is (be) the evil-of-Greed and the exchange of Freedom for Less…and Farewell’ to our Bill of Rights and our ‘Lady of Liberty’s’ tears continue to fall—the strength of Immigrants (now called aliens) arriving—diminished from a hopeful—flood of honest labor and dreams—into Code Balloons of ‘Yes and No’…

The rhythm of Zero and One is not the rhyme of these “Ghosts in the Machines’…Empathy is the only variable machines fail to match—or— Understand…Donchaknow!

And! Beautiful you are…

The Seconds Next…

MarvinGaye“There’s something happening here
What it is ain’t exactly clear
There’s a man with a gun over there
Telling me I got to beware

I think it’s time we stop, children, what’s that sound
Everybody look what’s going down…” Buffalo Springfield

Not games of ‘I’— not a place of mine or yours—but of ours-our-lives—of we and us—scattered across the Universal Find—of fine places to live and to die and to again—begin—living clusters—angel songs—along the rhythm and rhyme of time…We do not need ‘Biblical Scourges’ and ‘Days End’ prophecies to end—our own ending-beginning—we are able to fulfill demises—devised by devices—ourselves…No great Lighting Gods or Evil Hosts required.

‘People Free’ create the all-of-best creations. Priceless-Plunder-Shares—shared by the creators of creation’s best are not gifts—are creations deserved—expected—rejected—accepted and built again—improved—imported—exported and to the creators—People Free…’Wage-Slaves’ do—own the creations of their creation—grown from their lands—harvested by their sweat and irrigated by their tears.

Searching now as then and again in a forever reach of reaches—stretchers—stretching toward silver tongues and voices of gold—still—wondering why—maintain societies’ hierarchy—when social voices— many sounds of poverty silent—when greed so deafens—growls of hunger and the pleas of need…Listen! Our streets vibrate with good life—sweet blood and the strength of poverty covering America…’Feed my People’—strong words—weak wills to solve and still solutions are apparent and ready to use for many willing to share and to simply end greed. And! Please remember that a Police State is only allowed when governments—desire only—to protect and maintain—Societies’ Hierarchy—and be damn the People…The wealthy have forgotten with whom they once danced—and from where their worth began—developed and multiplied…

Why are a ‘force’ of ‘Police’ quickly—becoming the ‘Enemy’ of the people? America is awash with Swat Teams—Tanks and ‘Copters and Drones and—Snipers—Outsiders—Insiders—to Gas and Spray and Kill and Arrest and Convict and React—not Pro-Act…We are all people-of-people not Corporations-of-Departments—or Police-folk-to-combat-People-folk…We are neighborhoods—we are parts-of-parts—within-little-parts. The American Constitution—while written by rich-white-men—teases the People with words of Equality—Liberty—High Hopes and People—Strength: And! Still—’once upon a midnight dream’ we are just ‘Us’—little parts-within-ourselves and still unincorporated…Just Together!

In his new book, ‘Rise of the Warrior Cop’, journalist Radley Balko illustrates that the militarization of police departments developed—several decades before 9/11. He mentions—a few appropriate applications of modern—tactics and weaponry—obscure—routine use—each day—against U.S. citizens—accused of ordinary crimes, in ways that would have been repugnant to the nation’s founders. “To say a military tactic is legal, or even effective, is not to say it is wise or moral in every instance,” the president noted in his recent speech. “For the same human progress that gives us the technology to strike half a world away also demands the discipline to constrain that power—or risk abusing it.”

Evolve with us—from what ‘we-be’ into the may happen places of ‘second-next’—Once written—‘pretty words’ from ‘pretty-people’—pontifications all— an admonition regarding the dangers of armed and standing government forces—to people today—and for us—totally—acceptable for armed government storm agents—all dressed in garbs of armor and battle to rape—pillage—and plunder—private places in night’s ‘middling safety’—not to apprehend violent fugitives or thwart terrorist attacks, but to Enforce laws against nonviolent, consensual activities? Happens how and now and when and everywhere and why?

Protest and Speech Politic—twirls now toward the swirls of grenades that flash and crying sprays and RoboCops of ‘all-dressed up’—and still—the You and I of—Us against each-other…We were a place where laws were enforced by us without ‘dress-up’ and the notions of ‘bodily harm’ or the invasions of street-to-street—places with threats of harm by ‘other eyes’ often conditioned to see our neighborhoods and us (‘we the people’) as their Enemy…People-Person-You and I—We still are US…The New York Times reports; “according to Pentagon data, police departments have received tens of thousands of machine guns; nearly 200,000 ammunition magazines; thousands of pieces of camouflage and night-vision equipment; and hundreds of silencers, armored cars and aircraft.Why?

Von Clausewitz said: “War is politics pursued by other means.”

And! Beautiful you are…

‘What’s Going On’…written by Renaldo “Obie” Benson, Al Cleveland and Marvin Gaye…

Spinning Triangles…

5from the ‘Thunder—Perfect Mind’

“For I am the first and the last.
I am the honored one and the scorned one.
I am the whore and the holy one.
I am the wife and the virgin. . . .
I am the barren one,
and many are her sons. . . .
I am the silence that is incomprehensible . . .
I am the utterance of my name.” (a feminine power divine)

We End…Storm-side fury—then gone…Quick-to-die and always—short to live. Snow— drinking blood. Wind shifting sands—the path always found—footsteps always gone. Come and go—never footsteps just paths beginning and footsteps—gone. Pictures supply—by the pushers— drugs—be free and around every curve something still-stands—still-falls—still-prays—still raptures and always fades. And! I will love you until—the wheels finally come off… “The world is an indecipherable-essentially absurd but fascinating spectacle.” (From Joyce Carol Oates):

‘The bourgeoisie, wherever it has got the upper hand, has put an end to all feudal, patriarchal, idyllic relations. It has pitilessly torn asunder the motley feudal ties that bound man to his “natural superiors”, and has left remaining no other nexus between man and man than naked self-interest, than callous “cash payment”. It has drowned the most heavenly ecstasies of religious fervor, of chivalrous enthusiasm, of philistine sentimentalism, in the icy water of egotistical calculation. It has resolved personal worth into exchange value, and in place of the numberless indefeasible chartered freedoms, has set up that single, unconscionable freedom — Free Trade. In one word, for exploitation, veiled by religious and political illusions, it has substituted naked, shameless, direct, brutal exploitation. The reason the bourgeois exist and exploit the proletariat with low wages is private property, “the accumulation of wealth in private hands, the formation and increase of capital” and that wage labor is created entirely by competition among the workers…’ (Friedrich Engels)

Why compete—when together—we can ‘Over-Come.’…Xenophobia is fear of self…We have a right to be everywhere. When the rich become too rich—the wealthy—become selfish… Capitalist—classes abound…Now! On this earth too few people control the wealth—slave to wage folk are losing…Distribution of America’s wealth—Maybe—‘an only way to survive’ donchathink?

The Siden war of occupation and terror continued for too many generations. Unfair war! Unity Central participated across planet distance from Siden World…Memory slipping of why supported; however, wealth and greed and the war-breed-slide collided with the like-minded. Historians now practiced the slice/dice recording of the winner of the Siden War. The destruction of a people include the body-spirit and the ways of people. Gone from prime memory—their art and their language and their reasons-for-love…Gone—their family traditions—their celebrations and their reasons—of-living-life. Siden—gone.

History spins tales—of warrior-world and of victory spoils. Truthful-liars create their world and into sand and dust go everything else. The spinning of ‘truth-creep’ bumps into pages of ‘Urgent News—Read all about It.’ Attacks—are always proper and necessary. People destroy—always the enemy-mine. And! Let their story end…so we can forget all about it.

Not all people are warriors—Our little ones and our women and our elders (the teachers of tradition—life—wisdom—hope and continuation) also die. They are societies’ survival and their names and their lives must be remembered—Correctly counted and reported and cherished in the present and the future. The People of Siden? Ultimately—religion’s mad wiggle becomes the rhyme and the reason for an unfair world…Religion always kills…Death of life is wrong…When death seizes a life may death be a natural ending and not a war-forced sorrow. Then—‘We may not be born to be wasted.’

And! Beautiful you are…

Roads

“Ohh, can’t anybody see
We’ve got a war to fight
Never found our way
Regardless of what they say
How can it feel, this wrong
From this moment
How can it feel, this wrong
Storm.. in the morning light
I feel
No more can I say
Frozen to myself
I got nobody on my side
And surely that ain’t right
And surely that ain’t right
Ohh, can’t anybody see
We’ve got a war to fight
Never found our way
Regardless of what they say
How can it feel, this wrong
From this moment
How can it feel, this wrong
How can it feel, this wrong
This moment
How can it feel, this wrong
Ohh, can’t anybody see
We’ve got a war to fight
Never found our way
Regardless of what they say
How can it feel, this wrong
From this moment
How can it feel, this wrong” (written and performed by Portishead)…

Moon Color Red…

9A quotation repeated…”It is the duty of us all to ensure that our society remain one of which we are proud, not a society wary of immigrants and intent on their expulsion or a society that disputes the welfare state or a society in which the media are controlled by the wealthy. We would oppose such things were we true heirs to the National Council of the Resistance.”— By Stephane Hessel

We are immigrants of this world. Since a flash of mystery or notions or nicks or knacks or reasons or rhymes we move through time and place and home and one-to-another. We are the managers ‘blood of red’ same air and dancers of fictional truths drawn by spirits same and dreams of hope and the hope of dreams. We are the past—the present—and the days of future dances.

We are the art of the Gods!   We are life—all growing and all walking and all crawling and all swimming—We are Life—perfect and unstoppable…Needs fulfilled—Peace? Poverty is not a disease. Greed is disease and the antithesis of Peace. And! Better to fall in love than to fall in battle…

Medicine may assists us…Medicine never creates us…Medicine does not destroy us…Us…Life and the power of Love. Helping any life to heal must never be considered revenue. Must be without reason and to be applied without expectation of compensation…Medical—Life—Cost—Need—Always—Greed…

Ο Όρκος του Ιπποκράτη

“I swear by Apollo Physician and Asclepius and Hygeia and Panaceia and all the gods and goddesses, making them my witnesses, that I will fulfill according to my ability and judgment this oath and this covenant:

To hold him who has taught me this art as equal to my parents and to live my life in partnership with him, and if he is in need of money to give him a share of mine, and to regard his offspring as equal to my brothers in male lineage and to teach them this art—if they desire to learn it—without fee and covenant; to give a share of precepts and oral instruction and all the other learning to my sons and to the sons of him who has instructed me and to pupils who have signed the covenant and have taken an oath according to the medical law, but no one else.

I will apply dietetic measures for the benefit of the sick according to my ability and judgment; I will keep them from harm and injustice.

I will neither give a deadly drug to anybody who asked for it, nor will I make a suggestion to this effect. Similarly I will not give to a woman an abortive remedy. In purity and holiness I will guard my life and my art.

I will not use the knife, not even on sufferers from stone, but will withdraw in favor of such men as are engaged in this work.

Whatever houses I may visit, I will come for the benefit of the sick, remaining free of all intentional injustice, of all mischief and in particular of sexual relations with both female and male persons, be they free or slaves.

What I may see or hear in the course of the treatment or even outside of the treatment in regard to the life of men, which on no account one must spread abroad, I will keep to myself, holding such things shameful to be spoken about.

If I fulfill this oath and do not violate it, may it be granted to me to enjoy life and art, being honored with fame among all men for all time to come; if I transgress it and swear falsely, may the opposite of all this be my lot.”

Words and reasons of and for oaths are altered by translations and by time… ‘Ο Όρκος του Ιπποκράτη‘ is ancient in the time of flesh, however; seconds in the time of Life. Magic words are spoken and promises are broken or changed or forgotten. However; when flesh cries from the pain of sickness or fear or anguish—magic must never be diminished by the filth of money-changers and by the Greed of Destruction…

And! Beautiful you are…

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…