The United Space Of Scatter…

Down to the Waterline

“Sweet surrender on the quayside
You remember we used to run and hide
In the shadow of the cargoes I take you one time
And we’re counting all the numbers down to the waterline

Near misses on the dog leap stairways
French kisses in the darkened doorways
A foghorn blowing out wild and cold
A policeman shines a light upon my shoulder

Up comes a coaster fast and silent in the night
Over my shoulder all you can see are the pilot lights
No money in our jackets and our jeans are torn
Your hands are cold but your lips are warm”…by Mark Knopfler

Never stop—hearing things—seeing things—no matter—the complicated—or—the simple—no matter the time—or—the place—or—the reason—or—the rhyme…Only machines defeat—machines. On these nights—our children are—sent away—to safety side—not—safety arms…And! Then the bombs—break—the earth—quake—rubble rake—build again—bah-boom—bah-boom ’by-the-dawn’s-early-light.  ‘Often it is—sometimes the Ones—no other imagines—can do the Impossible—Do’…

Navigation hardware—and—sun shields—windward flight—‘cross long space—eternal light. Fifty miles—ride glide—or talk walk—not far in—Summer’s sunlight—long-to-walk—kind-to-talk—to arrive by Crooltowne Proper’s—Park side…Hundred years—built-to-bulk—along river pour—to lake front nights—water’s edges—defined where—grasses end—and—sands begin… World start—green light—blue corn—stocks—stacked ‘cross—giant ridge—five hundred miles and stopping—just because—height stops—and sky—begins. “Tis reach—to stay and say—this place is—climbing high—growing large—from spinning barge—‘cross this—sky bright and—eternal night…Everywhere snow—large flakes and small—swirl ‘round this alley wide—middle dark—to light muffled—both ends—where streets begin—and—alley’s end…Cold away from street lights…And! Silent away—from rider less—paths where—foot high white—bounce—lands and—covers asphalt ways—and concrete walks. Quiet so—Go no shadow pale—wall crawl—or dark creep—light speak—too scattered—to form—round interruptions—of snow motion—decent or bounce. Iron—horse less—Strider—covers grounds—where white drifts climb—frozen bits—of rhythm and rhyme—together—mingle—tingle and shape—another surface—against earth—propped just—beneath the sky…Her steps—quick now— disappear—beneath—winter fall—frozen wet—quick cover—to hide—both shadow—walk—and her sword—and shield…And! Within moments—and motion—she disappears…

Crowman’s time-of-days—are often fashioned—by old-fashioned—drinks of dark whiskey—and— splashes of—those things splashing—and those often—almost—often splashed…The Children have arrived—discovered food—and—sweet drinks—and—stayed for stories and far-off—sometimes covered magic—machine of sounds—pictures—lights and swirls…Is it Covens’ nature—to naturally alter—something caused—so long before—counting four and one half billion—trips around a single sun…Come back again—find world damaged—too greedy—too needy and plead—to survive—present conditions—lies of future spins—begin again—then just as lies—fail away and fade away—and fade away—today—fades away…

And! Does protection always equal servitude? So! Pixel me a thought today and watch as pictures fade away.

United-Scatter-of-States

Called a Populist Revolution—not formed—not aware—scattered notions—neither right—often damaged and very wrong…Global cause—formations—cause Global pause! To deport—our people present—in the here and now—is cross-laced—in this place—and intimately connected—to a planetary movement—of both—important people and important goods—Our people create. Deportation is no longer an issue of domestic policy…To move—a force of good work—and honest labor—to deport our people—from a United-Scatter-of-States—-inches close—ideals-miles-apart—ruins life’s functions—when perhaps—globalization and—a restructuring of—everywhere—economics have— created the global migration—now-objects-of—‘stupid’—racial—radical—ridicules—righteous—rhetoric—repeating—mid century’s last—failures and bloody wars…Please too—remember—that fear of displacement—directly affects body—complete with exhaustion—defeat-of-immune systems—and family life…Increased inequality causes our people to become both unhappy and unhealthy…. Restrictions of hope—and Greed achieves—momentary success…Momentary success—never-ever—lasts forever…Transition—thinking—creations—of common enemy—always destroys—the common futures—of Common People…And! We are all—everyone—the Common folk—of this—Place—this World—and of— this Moment-in Time…

‘Deportation Forever Continues this Illegal and Wicked—Course of Global Separation and Global Apartheid’…We are all Children of this Universe and We all have the Right-to-be—Everywhere…

Imagine

“Imagine there’s no heaven
It’s easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people living for today

Imagine there’s no countries
It isn’t hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people living life in peace, you

You may say I’m a dreamer
But I’m not the only one
I hope someday you’ll join us
And the world will be as one“…John Lennon

And! Beautiful you are…

 

‘The Rio Dawn’…Performed by Roberta Gambarini

 

‘Down To The Waterline’…Dire Straits

 

‘Nothing But A Fight’…The Palace Steps

Laws Created—Just For Us?

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Just disappeared into a tidal pull of ‘no reason’— ‘To no doubt about It’

  • Are—Arab journalists routinely arrested and imprisoned for months without charge, sometimes in the grim prison camp Ketziot-Ansar 3 in the Negev? Yes!
  • The Institute for Family Welfare in El-Bireh—had operated for twenty years and was— closed by Security Forces…Its sixty-five-year-old chairperson, Samikha Khalil, was arrested and charged with “incitement against the state, an attempt to influence public opinion in a way which will cause harm to peace and public order, and possession and distribution of hostile material.” This in 1988 and—Hold-on—Baby hold on—Cause it’s closer than you think—And you’re standing on the brink…”
  • Hebrew journal Derech Hanitzotz was shut down and its editors arrested. Yes!

Just disappeared into a tidal pull of ‘no reason’— ‘To no doubt about It’

 The Right to be inspected—detected—rejected—dejected—and the Power of Censorship in the Name of National Security (NSA) is an active move to ‘abridge’ the Freedom of Speech and of Democracy. Any active form of attempt-to-or-to ‘Abridge’—a constitutional right or an Amendment to the Constitution is illegal—no matter the excuse or the reason… A respected Human rights group—Law in the Service of Man (Al-Haq) and articles describing its human rights work—on grounds that these are —“likely to disturb the public peace”. Must be just another ‘governmental—insatiable—insanity’? ” Paranoia strikes deep—into your life it will creep.” Another Inquisition underway? And! Is the building of a wall between the US and Others—a Code—for future trains—future Camps—future—wires-of-barbs—garbs of gray—white—dark strips—ground-fills-of-forms—bone mountains—naming names—and—causing shames?

Just disappeared into a tidal pull of ‘no reason’— ‘To no doubt about It’

Beware of any move toward ‘Martial Law’ for those—will be moves toward—‘Trumpism/Nixonion/Jacksonion’—another—lean toward dictatorship in America—‘Home of the Wealthy and of the Afraid. Violent sputters—freedoms’ totters—Attacks-re-acts—recalls the falls of—heart-mists-tears-the-fears or the—‘WTF’—of thought sense—or are—the Nationalist ‘Whites’ another word for ‘Ignorant Hate’? America’s women-folk learning to defend against—the violence of America’s men-folk…And! When in ‘thoughts reasonable’ does mankind have a single right—to rule-over—womankind? ‘WTF’—again—ad infinitum. Domination is abomination! Be very aware of ‘Executive Branches.’ The laws of the land—must be our freedom-from-serfdom—donchathink?

Just disappeared into a tidal pull of ‘no reason’— ‘To no doubt about It’

Earth twirls—swirls and changes occur—either warming or chilling—either simple or killing—and Humanities’ whimsy can assist—or resist—incline—or decline—to touch-the-hand-to-hand-to handle—hearts—in memory shifts—either horrific—or—embrace wonders—of new—of difference—of Simple Similarity—of Peace—of Teach—of Reach—and Embrace the Race—of Sweet Life—Sweet Love—and Humanities’ Purest—Practices! Difference—Same—Same Difference and always “Arms open—often are.” ‘From each according to Ability—to each according to Need’—Karl Marx…

‘Brush to lids—of my own eyes—with sweet—your lips—touch deep—my heart—with spirit dance—your strength as—my own—often fails. We—you and I—do spin wheels—together—and—taste soft wine—in starlight bright—and—setting moon—so large that—reflected eyes— lock these—mind spaces—in—forever memories—of life. Tis—good this dream…Tis—sweet this Night…Shining candles—harbor flash—from sea-today-and-follow-tide…Come to harbor—sirens call…Shining candles—harbor flash… From sea-to-safety-side—tonight.’

And! Beautiful you are…

‘Cherokee Lullabye’…by—Raeann Phillips

 

‘The Islander’—Nightwish

Buildings and Lines…

1631“It glittered and it gleamed
For the arriving beauty queen
A ring and a car
Now you’re the prettiest by far

No party she’d not attend
No invitation she wouldn’t send
Transfixed by the inner sound
Of your promise to be found

“Nothing or no-one will ever
Make me let you down”

Kiss them for me, I may be delayed
Kiss them for me, if I am delayed

It’s divoon, oh it’s serene
In the fountains pink champagne
Someone carving their devotion
In the heart shaped pool of fame

“Nothing or no one will ever
Make me let you down”

Kiss them for me, I may be delayed
Kiss them for me, I may find myself delayed

On the road to New Orleans
A spray of stars hit the screen
As the 10th impact shimmered
The forbidden candles beamed

Kiss them for me, I may be delayed
Kiss them for me, I may find myself delayed

Kiss them for me, kiss them for me
Kiss them for me, I may find myself delayed…”

“Kiss Them for Me” written by—Susan Ballion and Peter Clarke

Buildings without prestige? Are structures rich or without form—do they appear—a wealth of shape and of rhythm and rhyme? Often—the eyes of Spirits—active are tiny orbs of specks—flecks of—gold and silver coats many—or layered but still seen—by both beholder and by the blind.  Lines hard and simple—revealing and hidden by few turns and curves. Harmony of sound—clear of body wraps—substance of the—perfection of bone and of muscle. Ice streams descending—long straight lines—from roof angle to—concrete sidewalks. Planes and plain models—streaks of many colors—colored glass—long pass nightfall—and—long out of sight–right?

Civil Layers never completely die…As traditions slip away—layers are forgotten—in time—as are—dances and songs. Touch your lips—finger kiss—yours to mine—time space—moments’ race…And! Silence—careful sight—tonight—as sail catches—spark and runs—to sea—see? What word means—“perfect competition”—and—“optimal allocation of resources”—and— “efficiency”? Perfect competition—is perfect for—a winner—Optimal allocation of Resources—are never fairly distributed…Efficiency costs—somewhere in time—some reason gone—some ration—divine…

Do neoliberals believe-in-truth? While promoting—demoted forms of deregulated—regulations—speculation-in-ruin—penetrating permissive—and pervasive—invasions—of individual greed so powerful—as to completely—dismiss all values—and—the strength of—Collective efforts…Real wages—gone—the influences of Societies’ Unions gone—and a Right—Wrong shift—in Economics—in Politics—in Labor’s market—and in—the Anglo-American—progressive Culture—‘All gone.’ ‘Trickle down’—a damned—everlasting lie! And! Remember—‘there are no Blue Color Billionaires…’ Hey Now! Celebrate Capitalism—when it has become ‘Greed—Sorrow—Inequality—Persecution—Quicksand Power—and—the ‘Real Enemy of—The People.’

The circle safely closed—the web building starts—the markers of builders old and builders new. Star Guide—folded into original shape— until it is—again required and opened to read and follow—‘cross sky-bridge….Bang-Bang-Bang and let the game begin—again…‘Tis’ good this Loving Rhyme. So! Follow this Time—this Twine—Re-wind. And! While I breathe—I Hope…”

And! Beautiful you are…

‘Kiss Them For Me’…performed by Siouxsie and the Banshees

‘Highwayman’…performed by The Highwaymen

Lion Echo and Light…

A time of early morning when sounds are soft against ear and movement does not play darts and goes and stop and start. A time to reflect or not to think but to happen as life happens in the sweet flow of quiet seashore in bright moon’s light. Waves even—gently lick the places of sand castles fading as eastern stars’ faint twinkle and the roars of today’s day touch the future and stops.

We—barefoot children of yesterday, leave the mere and slightest of indention in a sand semi-wet and cool from the absence of sunshine.

We—the children of another dawn, touch hand or swish jacketed shoulder once or twice or often without the counting of times or steps or memories. We are the happening of breath and silhouettes angled away from us by the western moon to fade or go by whimsy cloud or art.

Smiles not required and laughter not heard, not from or by our own design or folly. We are born of yesterday’s parents and tomorrow’s ruin. However—right on this moment and now on this side of second slide, we birth this moment or instance or day or past night’s hour.

We—live only of this stretch of sand and along with the catching up of tides flow believe the ice and water before and behind us are our ground and our chapter of seasons lived and written against the sands of shifting grain and the wind.

Care for life and alive and steeped in the reality of earth-beat and washed in the eternity of spirit and even alone—never lonely or forgotten with passing days or endless years of grooved space and the distance between here and there and everywhere.

And! Lion’s sandy paws follow our fading footsteps washed away by gentle surf and the settle of a constant settlement of earth and sky. We—you and I are instantly together and drawn by this moment and the notion of the simplicity of knowing we are beings beneath the fading light of moon and the coming of dawn-light and shadow. Those fading prints of sandy paws disappear and Lion call echoes somewhere across the bay. It is the music of this night and the rhythm of today.

And! Beautiful you are…

Hearing Mozart Play…

What if we heard Mozart play? A phantom whistles and we know the sound and the song just before the melody begins and long after it ends. A piano strikes cord and rhythm flows from twin-brain to hands to fingers both grand and awkward. Remember practice. Recall recital. Remember applause. Recall joy as the music stops instantly after fingers rest. We are the classical singers of a distant voice, his melodies yesterday and today and tomorrow. Mozart still plays beside us well into the days of past’s future.

Pussy Riot and Putin’s Folly: Only power remains if all else fails either—through revolution or by insolvency. Power is government complete with economic and social inequality, corruption-malfeasance and the restrictions-destruction of the rights of the people. Three girls/women; freedom’s singers, creators of noise and bangs and chants and songs—silenced now by Putin’s Folly. Twin years of prison for ‘singing songs and carrying signs.’

The world of free people: We will spit on Putin’s Folly and the Liars of America’s failing government. It must be the days of ‘Gag and Puke.’ We’ve already heard that the Tea Party equals America’s Taliban. Tomorrow must wonder about today and shrug away yesterday…

‘Tell me – Tell me True…
Baby – Baby
Night child of blue.
But I do long to see
You, in sunshine and lollipops
And those rainbow colors
Not by my eyes.
And never teary unless
Streaked – smiley streaked and
Song-whispered in the night.
Baby – Baby
Night child of blue.’…from ‘New York Diamonds Ride’

By Philip M. Edwards

And! Beautiful you are…

Watching Phoenix Fly…

We await Phoenix. We are the gathering folk washed in starlight and dusted well with truth-dance-sing-song-spirits and waiting for Phoenix rise. We gather beneath these snow-stretched spaces among the twirly-whirl of soft-speak and touch and silence.

Once machine master and the rage of quick-timed-start-stop imbalance and dances across twin tight-ropes at once, too high and too brief to walk or survive sanity’s hoppity-skippy angel of light. Presently! Both snow and darkness fill our sight and blood warms our communal veins and we wait for Dragon-fire and Phoenix-flight and Family.

We are children of life and the survivors of that well scattered stretch of distance between tower-watch and destiny. So! Let us dance this life and play.

And! Beautiful you are…

Maybe and What…

Wondering of spaces between life and physical death; between the yes and no and the knowing and the forgetting and beyond what is not felt and momentarily realized…

We invite experience and receive experience in washes and tumbling that are wished for and torn away and into similar, as watching ocean waves or being swept out to sea by a storm or an accident. We reach for broom or mop or both, still we are never completely cleaned or dry.

Wondering how we fit between the softness of time and the steel reality of flying away from what is almost known into what is quickly learned or remembered. We are born knowing everything and instantly taught to not know. We spend another life learning to physically survive and toward the end, we realize the passage of time and our knowing returns in spared memories and past recognitions.

While learning necessary survival we forget what we were and are and desire in the worlds above and below as we cling to this one. The hardest moments of this life are waiting for stupidity to understand anything.

First we remember; the horror of birth and then the softness of mothers’ caresses and the survival of love within her eyes. For Love-is-Life and Life-is-Love So! Transition world and onto road—here we come.

And! Beautiful you are…