Slicks of Wet Road…

Beyond slicks of rain bounced in moonlight against a million miles of asphalt roads where tiny sprites of weed push through and break the symmetry of path. Life is once again the birthing of nature’s chaos, and nothing is as natural as the creating of creations. Life’s power is the eternal notions of goddesses and gods and witches and warlocks and wizards and shamans and the sanguinity of woman and man and the dynamics of Love. And remember! Love is sexless and without form and without flesh and when shaped by humanity; it is magic and required, as carbon-based beings require air and blood.

Earth formed as we formed as precious life forms-form, and we name and speak and love or hunt and save or devour or spare or care as those others find us or avoid us or hunt or devour us in a chaos of circles dancing around a mystery of times beginning and ending and starting and stopping and chasing creation across an apparent universe of the known and the forgotten times of today’s yesterdays and tomorrow’s days of future’s stop/start. Ad infinitum or maybe into the Nemo of universes unknown or never where except…

When ark-stops and day begins the pristine pleasures of challenged beginnings; we the indigents of life, pause and listen and as crawling infants we find our children of the parents of this new day peering into the light or darkness. Now! Speeding to this place; to some new thing to some new tear or scent or sight, to a new blue sea or an isle of emerald, green we will touch; hand-to-hand and heart-to-heart and jump through space and complete time’s sweet rifts and swifts.

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.

When the taking of a warrior’s life becomes a mechanical judgment call, what happens to humanity? When is the cost of a life 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 determination called ‘appropriate judgment’ to ‘correctly’ respond with the 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.

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 war 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?

“Of all the enemies to public liberty, war is, perhaps, the most to be dreaded, because it comprises and develops the germ of every other. War is the parent of armies; from these proceed debts and taxes; and armies, and debts, and taxes are the known instruments for bringing the many under the domination of the few. In war, too, the discretionary power of the Executive is extended; its influence in dealing out offices, honors, and emoluments is multiplied; and all the means of seducing the minds are added to those of subduing the force of the people. The same malignant aspect in republicanism may be traced in the inequality of fortunes and the opportunities of fraud growing out of a state of war, and in the degeneracy of manners and of morals engendered by both…No nation could reserve its freedom during continual warfare. Those truths are well established. They are read in every page which records the progression from a less arbitrary to a more arbitrary government, or the transition from a popular government to an aristocracy or a monarchy.”—James Madison, “Political Observations,” April 20, 1795

 “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…

Stardust Performed by Delain

Spirits Walk And Spirits Talk…

—In your sounds of music—in your works of art-touch and your words of rhythm and rhyme; I taste and feel the strength of your presence—Past and Today and into the Future and ‘wow’ light does exist…Everyone! Thanks for sharing!

When eternal spirits visit body magic, please protect the ‘ghosts in these machines.’ Open arms and rejoice in this welcoming of life, body embraced touched senses to ground and as sky flight races across sky’s grand lengths remember there are no gates of heaven. Body form, blood and love and hand-to-hand and hip-to-hip and to and from the Mother-Ship…

Find no balance to bible-speak or the ramblings of government kings or the priests of wealth and babble for they are the attempted ‘evil’ of control and failure. Eternal Spirit touches Eternal Spirits. Simple and refined and fair in logical truth and requiring no ‘men-of-middle-claims’ or endless fancy killings or…

Presidents, Premiers, Dictators, Popes, Imams, Chieftains, Generals-of-Death, Politicians-of-Control and Preacher Kings, when you fly by as simple sky birds without metal form and blame; we may just for an instant, look up into the sky and smile. Then we will continue the protection of little ones and our spinning world. Is not the purpose of us to help the small ones grow into the large ones?

When the call of heart gives up eternal spirits never end. Eternal Spirit never waits to gain permission and access to the Universe. Life is unstoppable and everlasting. No Judgment awaits, no future calls for horror, no memories of past or present or future physical constructions are not required or necessary. Gods created spirit-sparks and spirits together to dwell in the whenever time of wherever places for whatever reasons.

Call spirit-dance! The naming of name-times quantify mysteries of understanding heart-touch inside flesh-times when body-survival purposes daily pursuits or interests same as food to stomach and sleeping in those arms-of safety. Mother holds baby close and Father embraces in his arms; hope and love and protection. She and he together once more family-dance the form of strength social and fabricated continuum.

So! Visiting Spirits stop and animate walking, flying, swimming and crawling flesh. No tests and no required reasons. True Gods create no wars on earth or in the above places of the wherever or ever been. True Gods do not allow horror or death or strife or pain or happiness or grief or destruction. The ‘Gods’ do not judge the fallibility or fragility of flesh and whimsy. Why? Poverty and Greed and Control and Governments and Religions equal the Terror/Horror of this immediate now and this immediate place.

Life is Eternal Spirit and we are these spirits. One or many across a star field of many star-filled nights and days. Stars do not dim in the light-of-dawning bright. Eyes often see more than eyes discover and understanding may stop at birth or continue until stopped heart begins Spirit-walks again across a Spirited-Sky, beyond and below and maybe again on a ‘whirly twirly’ world somewhere in another time or place or race. Nothing matters except Love and Life and Peace?

And! Beautiful you are…

Peace on Earth…

“I heard the bells on Christmas day

Their old familiar carols play

And mild and sweet their songs repeat

Of peace on Earth, good will to men

And the bells are ringing

Like a choir they’re singing

In my heart I hear them

Peace on Earth, good will to men

And in despair I bowed my head

“There is no peace on Earth, ” I said

For hate is strong and mocks the song

Of peace on Earth, good will to men

But the bells are ringing

Like a choir singing

Does anybody hear them?

Peace on Earth, good will to men

Then rang the bells more loud and deep

God is not dead, nor doth He sleep

The wrong shall fail, the right prevail

With peace on Earth, good will to men

Then ringing, singing on its way

The world revolved from night to day

A voice, a chime, a chant sublime

Of peace on Earth, good will to men

And the bells, they’re ringing

Like a choir they’re singing

And with our hearts, we’ll hear them

Peace on Earth, good will to men

Do you hear the bells, they’re ringing?

The light, the angels singing

Open up your heart and hear them

Peace on Earth, good will to men”

By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Witch Magic And Spells…

These Idols are shams of illusory pain, unknown over spans of turmoil and wars of courses, ’til days without war are times wasted and blood not tasted. They fall to earth in conveyances not yet realized and always fighting over splits, of DNA and genes spliced to design to slave and swiftly die. And! We imagine these creations are creators, to shadow—to covet and too; to emulate, ‘til death parts our ways and past deaths still correctly resolves from among the graves? Oh, hell no? This ring around never follows unless correct premise concludes that the correct choice is but; a wig-waggle away from, conclusive logic and “still love me some logic-eh.”

Witches formed the twirling-whirl. Enchantresses will revisit and revive their designs. So! Return now. Perhaps, this is a suitable time? Beware the twirl of haunted paramours. Each motion is a dance with unreal realities. They delight in the child’s discovery; of life, without opaque details and sans those sundry levels; unknown, behind crafted shells and the ruined confines of age. This substitute; when discovered, is grief for a reduced lover while crying sugar tears and fire-sweetness and the recollections of chance? Appearing in cloud early, we perish within a jumble-muddle of dusted rain and rust. In transition and pursuing the flash-ride; to spiral and skip, we frame time and often miss but never-ever fall.

“There is no death it said
on one side and the other side of the paper
the voices are the same the thunder
is the same roaring in our ears for
on one side and the other of the paper it said
there is no death
There is death though in the paper where
the muffled pencil moved
Only in the paper only in the shrouding paper”… Annie Besant

Arrange now! Inside the ruin-runes of this roadhouse of crumble stone and moss and rubble and ruined wooden benches and tables twisting into ground. Life begins and life ends as inhalation starts and exhalation stops. Not a cloud fall missed, but a spark’s charging headlong into channels of paradise and kiss-loves before the night ends and life trashes to light. We are robots of life scattering and of live jamming ‘cross one thousand worlds; set to twirl the galaxy, all lost and found and discovered and discarded. A million mines of unique ones whirling just inside zero drops of rain and trillion-acre seas of salt and water and giant crashes of life’s sparking rattles and battles in the birth of baby eyes and infant sighs.

We are the ‘off-grid-gridders’ of neoteric plug-ins; unedited and banned and far away from the standards of whisper’s folly and inside a net of lost souls and flounder bodies. All totaled must dwell within this symmetry of stop and starts and the ones and the zeros of reasons and verses and songs. However; we are unfamiliar automata, powerless to locate or spare chaotic notions beginning or ending without result.  We are never noted by previous androids! We are simple chips within other chips and notions beyond the loops that loop, ad infinitum. We are the celebrations of the mourning after and spawned in the backseats of an auto or two and occasionally former and eternally imminent, when taverns crumble and bridges fall.

“The modality of novelistic enunciation is inferential: it is a process within which the subject of the novelistic utterance affirms a sequence, as conclusion to the inference, based on other sequences (referential – hence narrative, or textual – hence citational), which are the premises of the inference and, as such, considered to be true.” JULIA KRISTEVA–‘Desire in Language’

By the fire bright of these dwindling tribes, children marvel at; both, the dancing flames and the warmth of these lights ‘gainst the nights and outside shadows beneath their eyes. They listen as stories tell the beginning of things now gone and of those grand places not started but imagined and seen in minds’ own spaces and in their most desired regions of just before a dream and just after ‘wishing this was true.’ We eternally return and find another home. This is where monsters cannot reside, aside from the secret of childhood sing-songs and glee. We return to spaces where bombs cannot splinter thoughts or disturb the determination of freedom, its folly and its lies. This is our place without borders.  Only the religions of kings attempt to divide and conquer spirit wings and fiddlers speak. Everlasting is this spirit and life begins and ends as the fiddlers play.

And! Beautiful you are…

Beyond Slicks Of Rain…

We are the goddesses, gods, witches, warlocks, wizards, magicians and creation’s creators. We are the spirit wind in the valley and the desert and ‘cross plains of grass and mountains both under the sea and rising into space. We of many names or descriptions are both feared and loved. We are Life. We are the evermore art of this evermore life.

Beyond slicks of rain bounced, visible by moonlight, against a trillion miles of asphalt roads where tiny sprites of weed push through and break the symmetry of path. Life is once again the birthing of nature’s chaos and nothing is as natural as the crafting of creation. Life’s power is the eternal notions of goddesses and gods and witches and warlocks and wizards and shamans-and created by the sanguinity of woman and man and the dynamics of love.

Finally detected! A subway into this wig-waggle-universe and accessible for everyone. Again, migration into and on top of unfamiliar places and different spaces and additional races; forever, to be the first to enter and the last to exit. Is Humanity comparable to merchandise crammed on shelves in an eternity sized store (FIFO), inventory acquired and audits certified? Are we the solitary ‘first-in-first-out’ genus in an aged and precocious whirly-twirl?

“Let us be lovers

We’ll marry our fortunes together

I’ve got some real estate here in my bag

So we bought a pack of cigarettes

And Mrs. Wagner’s pies

And walked off to look for America”Simon and Garfunkel

Again! To be and to see the loving of loving, of hands joined-to-body, of moving of swings and wings and spirits-singing and of peaceful sighing. Creation! The Sorceress smiles and for this moment in time; ‘Tis’ good this Loving Rhyme. So! Follow this time—this Twine Rewind.

‘What’s done in the dark soon comes into the light’Author unknown

Thomas Hobbes once wrote in his book Leviathan:[in nature] there is no place for industry, because the fruit thereof is uncertain: and consequently no culture of the earth; no navigation, nor use of the commodities that may be imported by sea; no commodious building; no instruments of moving and removing such things as require much force; no knowledge of the face of the earth; no account of time; no arts; no letters; no society; and which is worst of all, continual fear, and danger of violent death; and the life of man, solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.”

And! ‘Let there appear (A Market Free), government not required? Without government—‘A Free Market—cannot exist?’ It cannot exist without a civilization! ’True competition’ is a wild ‘dance of survival’ and only the largest and the strongest win. Oops! Civilization is defined by rules. Rules create markets and ‘Oh-No’! Governments’ are the ‘Rules Generator.’

Please! Do not believe; when your paycheck is too small to survive without (2)+ jobs, you really deserve this ‘governmental oops’! And! When a small percentage of ‘personae’ receive billions-of-dollars for your labor with no (blood, sweet and tears) required and they deserve this? No way!

Rules have been altered and all governmental ‘oops’ are calculated—forever and for one and for all.  Systems are skewed and our American administration is our liability. Meanwhile; this error, is the ‘Government of the People and For the People’ and have ‘we’ the People, been forgotten?  

It must not intrude—on a ‘Free Market’—since it must—create that—‘Free Market’? Oops and Wowzer! The American Government creates all ‘free market rules thru Our Legislatures, enforces these rules by using our Administrative Agencies and rules may often be tested by our Courts. An Unholy Trinity—absolutely!

A ‘Free Market and Civilization’ in harmonious simplicity? Until this is re-calculated—-‘Nothing else matters’.

“There are two modes of invading private property; the first, by which the poor plunder the rich…sudden and violent; the second, by which the rich plunder the poor, slow and legal.”Author unknown

Wondering now, if Preachers-of-Fear and Creatures-of-Hate and a Collection of Hope Frauds and Reality-Show-Freaks and Presidential ‘Wanna—Maybes’ are nothing more-or-less than distractions and entertainment-to-lure-both-you-and-me away from Legislature failure?

Everyone knows—(Love Is or ‘Nothing else matters.’)

“If you’re going to San Francisco

Be sure to wear

Some flowers in your hair

If you’re going to San Francisco

You’re gonna meet

Some gentle people there

For those who come

To San Francisco

Summertime

Will be a love-in there

In the streets of San Francisco

Gentle people

With flowers in their hair”Scott McKenzie

Again! To be and to see the loving of loving, of hands joined-to-body, of moving of swings and wings and spirits-singing and of peaceful sighing. Creation! The Sorceress smiles and for this moment in time; ‘Tis’ good this Loving Rhyme. So! Follow this time—this Twine Rewind.

And! Beautiful you are…

When Animation Begins…

There is an informal slip-slide escalation in curving paths shifting from horizontal to a moderate acclivitous ascent. About ‘these parts’ are levels and soft hills then abrupt driveways and mountains. The foothills originate beyond the driveways and rise to forty-nine hundred feet o’er the conurbation named Windsweep. We happen twelve miles away in a town called Creeshrugs. We are governed by traditional rhythms; intricately and spiritually fused with the natural world. And! The lights dim as the shadow dance begins.

Signals are distorted, sibilant, and overly compressed.

Sing-Song sounds as specters sway ‘round twilight flames adrift in a far-off time. We start with the stars and concurrently we vanish into the mist. With gentle voice in silent rooms with stemma stroked throats and emptied tombs. Passages move toward skylight’s screams while choosing sights of sinking dreams. Warming suns of days ago. Salted mist and taste of tongue within lights of passion and times of rain. Wolf cries of sands and home. Across this universal stretch window shines in candle’s light. And let us touch another piece of safety sleep and lover’s reach.

A well-stocked mind—is never bored—donchaknow?

‘Refusing to acknowledge an active force in things and instead “simply to absorb this force into a command of God’s – a command given just once in the past, having no effect on things and leaving no traces of itself in them is so far from making the matter easier to grasp that it is more like abandoning the role of the philosopher altogether and cutting the Gordian knot with a sword’– by Gottfried Leibniz—from ‘On Nature Itself’

We climb and defy the Mountains of ‘Overworld.’ No demons depraved. And! No rhythm or rhyme nor times’ that happen when forgotten or acceptance is abandoned or uncovered via sets of eyes right-sighted, united, divided and shared ‘cross finale starts.  As inceptions finish single races and commence in other times; additional competitions, wind-curve-win or lose or race-place again and all over again, ad infinitum…

We start with the stars and concurrently we vanish into the mist.

We sustain soul-touched shivers. Beneath drops and beyond opaque places, animation is born and form from kindle or care or wash or wear and never far away from strikes and sparkle. Coven Isles removed from ‘Martian’ Beach lives, and once recognized by diamond eyes, now dry of surface rain, though still alive and seen through other selves in other times and in other places. ‘Tis driest in desert winds away from dark sights and silent nights. Sleepless slights and magic lights ‘cross crater crash and runners’ dash into caves where life is born where cycles form and disappear into light-slight and fright.

When in love distance from the ‘Entity of one’s ‘Love’ is just formality. A spirit being “in-love’ takes no notice of Space, of Distance and of Time. And! Love is forever—donchaknow?

The tertiary processes comments that end in a sibilant or near-sibilant, and the last picks up everything else. Indicators are distorted, sibilant, and overly compressed. ‘Sibilants are louder than their non-sibilant counterparts, and most of their acoustic energy occurs at higher frequencies than non-sibilant fricatives.’ Sibilance is a manner of the articulation of fricative and affricate consonants, made by directing a stream of air with the tongue towards the sharp edge of the teeth, which are held close together; a consonant that uses sibilance may be called a sibilant, or strident.”

And! Beautiful you are…

Wishing You Gentle Winds and Freedom…

This is the 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.

These are rich structures without form. These towers are buildings without prestige. These places appear a cornucopia of shapes with no rhythm or rhyme. Lines both; hard and simple, reveal and complicate turns and curves. Synchronization of positions and flawless of construct. Elements of precision and of mischief. Often the eyes of Spirits active are miniatures. Often specks and flecks of gold and silver coats. Many are layered but still seen by beholder and beholden. Ice streams descend in slow straight lines—from rooftop slopes to solid sidewalks. Planes and plain models are soon streaks of many colors-colored glass and permit-in transitory twilight. Then, out-of-sight and with this bright-city-light appears an ‘almost-maybe’ night.

“Now you’re telling me
You’re not nostalgic
Then give me another word for it
You who are so good with words
And at keeping things vague
‘because I need some of that vagueness now
It’s all come back too clearly
Yes I loved you dearly
And if you’re offering me diamonds and rust
I’ve already paid” …by Joan Baez

Touch lips and finger kiss your lips to mine then time space while moments’ race. Civil layers never die. Tradition slips, and graciousness is forgotten. So are whirling dances and twirling songs. And! In Silence carefully watch tonight. Sails do catch sparks-of-wind and high tides to run-to-sea-you’ll-see—won’t we? Struggle is perfect for the winner. The impartial distribution of resources never legitimately occurs. Productivity costs: over time, with all reasons spent, some products lost and some reasons to divine.

“All across the nation
Such a strange vibration
People in motion
There’s a whole generation
With a new explanation
People in motion
People in motion

For those who come to San Francisco
Be sure to wear some flowers in your hair
If you come to San Francisco
Summertime will be a love-in there

If you come to San Francisco
Summertime will be a love-in there” …by John Phillips

Why support Capitalism since it is now; ‘Insatiable and Unequal and Repressed and Tyrannical and an Enemy of ‘We the People’ and of ‘Earth’s Twirling Humanity’? Tangible wages are gone. The powers of Societies’ Unions are gone. And! A Right—Wrong transference in Economics, Politics, Labor’s markets and an enlightened American refinement are now ‘all gone!’ ‘Trickle down’ is a perpetual lie! And! Remember; ‘there are no Blue Color Billionaires.’

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…

“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-Bah-Boom-Bang-Bang and let the game begin—again… ‘Tis’ good this Loving Rhyme. So! Follow this Time—this Twine—Re-wind. 

‘Wishing you days of Gentle winds—Soft curves and Wonder’

And! Beautiful you are…

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…

Life Shouted—Never Doubted…

“Like the empires of the world unite
We are alive
And the stars make love to the universe”
— by Shakira Isabel Mebarak Ripoll

Walk now, mind walk and follow. Shadow smoke curls and the echoes of sing-song-choirs along the line where sea meets see and sky appears above a forgotten shimmer of water stretching beyond eye watch and body wait. Stride upon the salty waves of a dead sea tucked down between actions and melody’s refrains. Then melt into mists and sea sounds and into another dawn. Those little matters matter-less. Conclude and then proceed once more.

‘You and I and life about and as we shout ‘Love’ skyward because nothing will stop our Dance. You and I forever together! We know nothing alone exists without love’s power, hour, tower, flower and life. Life ignited delighted and excited. We touch hand-to-heart-to-spirit and let the eternal dance begin again.’

Come now and twirl into the Spider’s Web. Enter East-side. Hold the nothingness of thought without form until substance becomes madness. And! Venture out beyond the bridge and find a different freedom. Align birth and moments before and moments after the being presented see lighting sky-flashes and hear thunderclaps as a gelatin combines with knowing vapor to travel those heavens in timeless mist and harmony. As vapor we exist. We are not distraction by what we are not; for we are not, not by displacement or alteration because we always exist in timeless harmony and within those trails of stardust spewing from alternative engines of speed and power. Life motions as life moves. Life modifies. And! Spirits Dance…

And! Still here while beneath these heavens our sea swirl-twirls and we see those Sirens rises from emerald seas and from black sands where tide pulls against current and the alignment of moonlight is perfect and is orderly in its dispersal upon the dustless night.

Our Goddesses create heavens and earths and moons and suns and pass spirits to fleshes and from fleshes back again to those spirited forms, substances free. Corrected notes, the piper plays silver flutes that holds heart ‘beeps’ of roaring seas. We pass into light and set others ‘cross star streams beyond sun and beyond sea and beyond the skies of eternal space. Never troubles what posterns we tumble through and matters not why stars blister us. Matters that gates open and matters that stars are hot.

These are singing days! Shouts and shrieks and whistles ‘cross harbor calls where wood-hulled ships rest with bell claps rocking waves and setting sails. 

We water children are held above the line by knowledge buoyant. Unafraid and free and defeating gravity and the restrictions of a drier Earth.

Sunshine west-turns and slips beneath the sky. Nymphs forgotten and paradise found by Summer’s little ones.

Small beneath the greater schemes of earth and large beneath the stars. So bright! Those stars! Filling lake sparkles and silence with gems dancing and laughing diamonds…

Our house is a strong house, built of stout wood with skill and with love. The wind cannot knock it down. As this grand tempest expires, our house is still upright and salutes the lights of another way. Do not allow this government to destroy people’s achievements, their history, their language, and their future dreams. When this happens, we become a twist of ash. We cannot survive. Genocide destroys our flesh and so much more than Bone. Genocide destroys our blood rivers of Life…

“When we try to conceal our innermost drives, our entire being screams betrayal.” — by Frank Herbert

And! Beautiful you are…