When States Avoid Plagues…

1265“If a state is to avoid the greatest plague of all—I mean civil war, though civil disintegration would be a better term—extreme poverty and wealth must not be allowed to arise in any section of the citizen body, because both lead to both these disasters.”Plato regarding the dangers of inequality…

In fundamental stages, atoms occur in shapes, in assemblies and via the methods through which they coalesce. We! Atoms ‘gone wild’ write by mingling the letters of our alphabet in unique ways to construct tragedies, epic poems, comedies and outlandish legends. The combinations of rudimentary iotas fashion our world in its own limitless diversity.

These are the ‘Coming In’ times. The ides of moments ready-to-flash and center-of-day-to-ready-play and anticipate reasons. Then discover that life does happen covalently. No rejoice to understand or withstand and never required and still Ok. Momentum drinks to spill before air or fear tastes and waste’s rush before shriek-spear-kill where motion ends as hanging cloth covers wired thorns along ruined ditches of rain fill and maybe flows from boot smooth flat-to puddles of blood-mud waiting for sun-play and dry air and wiz-bangs and death.

Creative Creatures do gather one-time-or-maybe-two to watch sky etched forms dissolve appear and disappear while often dancing ‘cross so many places to many races as often they appear only to disappear and reappear again once-in-a-while…

Plato wrote in ‘The Republic’ (Book 7): “that men are chained at the bottom of a dark cave and only see shadows cast upon a wall by a fire behind them. They think that this is reality. One of them frees himself, leaves the cave and discovers the light of the Sun, and the wider world. At first the light, to which his eyes are unaccustomed, stuns and confuses him. But eventually he can see and returns excitedly to his companions to tell them what he has seen. They find it hard to believe.”

“We took the blood of the earth
and fell in love with death
with life itself as an excuse.

Black is the sunlight shimmering below;
it flows through life and the guilt we share

We are hiding in chorus as starry eyes close,
and seasons part in farewell;
‘because we drained her blood, then forgetting her face
to hide from everyone” …from ‘The Last Hour of Ancient Sunlight’ by Draconian

Burn with this exceptional song as extraordinary fog ‘cross liquids edged with split sanded reeds as from hill high vantage; pieces of fractured stone, as the broken rims of splintered faces silently shriek of spoil, of harm and of destruction. Three ships obscure the ternary ceaseless slivers of shiver war to collect or to evade again. Two townships too pounded, still need needless sorts to find forms alive or fallen upright. And! From waterside cannons a fortress sky high, twins slam shells and balls as death upon us falls. They; then us and not and again, they fall with and upon us. Ship pitches wood and steel and spirits toward sinking side with mast blast splinters and holes enough to die.

We paint and then leave for the ‘Coming In’ time. Neon glitters and shape-shifters-sighted-one’s blend against leafless limbs where standing trees fall and scatter ‘cross Viaduct’s crumbled-tumbled stretches of stone tops, cream colored rocks and pieces of dust and rust and the shadows of ruin or waste. Choirs race wagons of faded reds and oranges and brown streaks of muted yellow splash; again blend and rend groomed clones of oiled twilight clouds and fading light as the protector moons of three rise alongside globe line and stain shorelines ahead of the lubricious briny; fill with salted rains without sounds, and deprived of life.

Water and butterflies and beetles with purple shades and birds emerge from mist and race about lofty heavens or nethermost luminosities. Straightway, touch the life that flies, and from colors of lavender light into gull-white gray and totally liquid beside a sparkle of shoreline polish and moonlight bright. We! From spiritual linkage promptly to Earth, and now once more to rush into struggle to situate and into competition. Observe the exhausted and the dying ones. They come this way and fly away. Then! Gather here the shaped-shifters and one-sided sighted eyes to watch till wizards of crashes and dashes cease games of pieces on ground as our Witches appear or disappear into smoke and mirrors and magic shaped ghosts. Toast those; by those lifted glasses, memorized memorialized and as quickly forgotten as recalled.

“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”… ‘Still You Turn Me On’ by Greg Lake

And! Beautiful you are…

Aqui Si Hubo Genocidio…

87‘And the men who hold high places
Must be the ones who start
To mold a new reality
Closer to the heart
Closer to the heart
The blacksmith and the artist
Reflect it in their art
They forge their creativity
Closer to the heart
Closer to the heart

Philosophers and ploughmen
Each must know his part
To sow a new mentality
Closer to the heart
Closer to the heart
You can be the captain
I will draw the chart
Sailing into destiny
Closer to the heart’… “Closer To The Heart” by Rush

Imagine…A World once existed where women-folk-could-walk-planet-wide in day/night safety and men did not know a word called ‘War’…Where love was love and force never existed…Wherever—Whatever—Was never called heaven or hell…A place where life belonged and life was good everyday…We create worlds—we maintain worlds and we do love our Children don’t we?—The Government of Death is never required…

Swirling whirls of smoky fires to cook and fog mist touches life from mountain high to valleys of twirling-spirits and folks-of-flesh spreading across a triangle called Ixil. In a year of Blood- Past—1982—the Mayans of Guatemala were brutalized-raped-tortured and murdered—tens of thousands died…The chopping blades of Bell and gunfire and screams and blood-red-white—All—covers and color and shapes and detail and truth—disappear…Twisted court and procedure- speak-twist-truth-to-function-to-injustice…(“…avala una ilegalidad que lacera no solo los intereses de esta representacion sino al sistema de justicia guatemalteco” … “el sistema deja de perseguir la justicia centrandose unicamente en la materia procesal.”)… supports an unlawful lacerating not only the interests of the representation but the Guatemalan justice system “…” the system stops pursue justice focusing only on procedural matters…

A Guatemalan dictator—Efrain Rios Montt committed the murder of these freedom seeking folk…The United States of American aided and abetted and ‘blessed’ this genocidal rampage against these folks…Ronald Reagan expressed twisted assurance that Efrain Rios Montt was a Christian man of ‘great personal integrity’ and committed to improving the life of all Guatemalans…And! Furthermore—his administration would continue to support Efrain Rios’s progressive efforts—to commit genocide! Was Guatemala a Latin American beachhead for the USSR? Or was this ‘a concern for the interests of U.S. investors and fear that a democratic experiment empowering the harshly repressed peasant majority “might be a virus” that would “spread contagion,” in Henry Kissingers’ thoughtful phrase, referring to Salvador Allende’s Democratic Socialist Chile.’ WTF!

Genocide in Guatemala—Africa—Iran—Iraq—Palestine—Argentina—Ecuador—Honduras—and many other places across our sweet Earth is the absolute purpose of America’s war-machine and its Multinational War-Economy…NSA—and any American’s National Security Team(s) or administration—either Right or Left is a genocidal contraption—created to confound peace in the name of protecting Life-Liberty and other such Constitutional nonsense…Rich and White and the entire world is your-very-own-coaster—donchathink?

Dancing circles of…Maybe Life or love’s memory and the almost real of a now to then and back again—Creator speaks and upon canvas—lines and circles dance and dash as songs play and laughter reaches to diners’ corner and open doors call to inside secrets of ink motions and canvas wet with colors and the scent of orange and green and brown and yellow and perfume inside a night of air and dare and wear and fare or the future of moments again without the layers of walls climbed and discarded…Loving the love of—gathering together strength—of one or two or many more than them or us or we—be strength of Love—no rules to follow—no moral folly or man rules called Godspeak…when those ‘world words’ are the songs of death—control—fiction—suffering and the lies against Spirit—Speak and Life. Women Love…Men Love…Love is Perfection—is Touch—is Peace—is Spirit—Song and…No rules or explanations or ever-speak required.

And! Beautiful you are…

“Closer To The Heart” by Rush