Dancing Along Space Edge…

“Peace is not merely a distant goal that we seek, but a means by which we arrive at that goal.”Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

The loves of men and the loves of women and freedoms’ sweetest notions must not be influenced or weakened by the principals of greed and the powers of dithered legislation, an impotent executive office or a purchased judicial robe. Pondering if America’s ‘founding-fathers’ did spin tales with double tongues and savage intentions since a mile-wide emptiness is emergent. Governance does not notice us or heed our cries and, they still await our deaths for causes and foundations and reasons and rhythms, we ultimately do not recognize. Sweet certainties are principles that all life is equal life that all women and men rich or poor are above borders of wherever boarders for nonreasons and never judged by color, big guns, nuclear death and the perpetual diatribe of segregation, inaccessibility and panic.

“Any man or woman who is willing to think. All those who know that man’s life must be guided by reason, those who value their own life and are not willing to surrender it to the cult of despair in the modern jungle of cynical impotence, just as they are not willing to surrender the world to the Dark Ages and the rule of the brutes.” Ayn Rand

First Amendment

“Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.”

  • On June 1, 2020 in Lafayette Park – Washington, DC…Wondering if tear gas and Stinger Ball grenades used to interrupt and hurt people peacefully assembled “to petition our government for a redress of grievances” was a significant contravention of our 1st Amendment? Of course! And to use this ‘illicit force’ for a ‘Donnie T’ photo-op? WTF?

 

To perceive and conceive and absorb and substantiate every notion and motion now or just beginning to develop something real or unreal is suitable. With no restraint to communicate every notion and motion either known or just discovered is sacrosanct. ‘Freedom of Speech’ and ‘Freedom of the Press’ is the motion of all notions correct or incorrect. Words are not eternally genuine or insincere. Context is often cover for lies or truths. Readers often determine validity or invalidity. Often this determination is not objective. Whimsey may not be independent. Reactions often supplant logic. Clarification often ignores emotions. Normally words spoken are received as the listener wishes to perceive those words and understand what is said or meant or desired or needed as both, truth and invention. Often the silence between all words interconnects everything.

We are not ideas to kill or fancies to perish. We reveal various packages of fabric 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 prejudice or of religions ‘to-take-to-hate’ or to replace, irreplaceable life. We shift into objects of alternative daylights with the accepted expectations of extraordinary flashes of original thought and lights of magnificently creative creations through the perceptions of flashing preconceived originality and congestion repeaters across a wondrous land of sugar and cinnamon-spiced tea or coffee or me or you or us or…In becoming an impression immortally important and becoming another legacy repeated or recalled and retweeted we ‘amen’ to both, the previously consummated and the just about to transpire! “Ashes to ashes and dust-to-dust.” New ways to win, we-must-be-us.

 “Peace cannot be kept by force; it can only be achieved by understanding.” Albert Einstein

Our Mothership:

  • Spins at the Equator = (1000mph)
  • Around the Sun = (67,000mph)
  • Around our Galaxy = (490,00mph)
  • Toward the Great Attractor = (621.371/mps)

On Earth side’s moon, a great-walled plain called Mare Crisium- ‘the Sea of Crises’ is about three hundred miles in diameter and start-stop by a circle of colossal mountains. Once an ancient sea dried here and it took a thousand million years before the half mile deep water was gone? Dying achieved; right after life, animated upon another spinning World. We are all émigrés of this Universe. Since an explosion of mystery or reasons or rhymes or by sorcery, we step through time and place and dwell with one-another, together forever. We are the ancient, the existent and the ‘days-of-yet-to-come.’ We are the Gods of Virtuosity! We are life; all growing and all walking and all flying, crawling and swimming. We are Life. We are perfect and we are unstoppable.

Furnish us an Earth where women walk in day/night security and no one recognizes a conflict called ‘War’…Where love is love and where force cannot occur. Where there are no shadowy spaces called ‘heaven’ or ‘hell.’ A place where life does belong, and life is good every day. We construct worlds and we sustain humanities and we all Love our Children. For the magic and the mischief-of-life Gods are not required.

And! Beautiful you are…

 

‘Zombie’ — The Cranberries

‘In the End’ — Linkin Park

 

Walker Places—Walker Spaces…

Light Fall and Darkness touches street and covered brick-crack and moonless crackles. Colloid collisions to scented secrets and motions without notions. We are the Queens and Kings of these streets. This ‘Sity’ is our City.

              The Walker is a silhouette pushed low beneath Grand Moon rising and carved carefully ‘cross sky too close to be real and too real to be proximity’s cost, close to-shapes-to-shift-shape and nearer to buildings tossed across landfall along sea-line to skyline. Tide comes in, evening time and changes along season’s alteration same as sunrises and sunsets and shadows play beneath twin moon season with splashes of textured cloud color or star twinkles too distant to notice or too close not to catch eye when noticed in brain as spirit touches at the same time.

The Walker glides across a jumble-tumble of brushed footholds fashioned by rainwater visible; as digging, once moved dirt above rock faces and dragged these weighted ones from place to necessary place for buildings built or buildings removed-restructured-replaced or obliterated. Needed things at needed times where locations were homes and buildings-controlled landside. And! Little killer medications be, only notions of Lizard Kingdoms where the notions of you ‘peel’ums’ accessible and needed from the glory of car-trunks.

She is a Walker Warrior and claims the Bridge above the ruins of ‘City.’ Below the places of spaces, once a great tangle of yards and rails carried the price of commerce commercially to and away and beyond her bridge and dirty sea ships sailed toward one another. They bounced the line; black shadows, slowly creeping beneath an injured sky. No wind! Masts no sails. Crude! Not fueled cold furnaces and boilers empty drums with warm air. She now adjusts eyes and turns and follows silent ships passing one another. They ride the line with no wake. They do not disturb the oiled sea or change silt-less shoals beyond an invisible channel. She watches and waits for their return.

She forgets to breathe. Fog horns moan and moan again just within cones of hearing an evening rare without fog or mist. Held inside, air rushes into throat and through her nose and mouth. Sea odor and her eyes tear. Bridge time is fine and darkness safe. She searches sea. She swears the line has moved closer to shore. And! Those ships are gone.

            We shift into objects of alternative daylights with the accepted expectations of extraordinary flashes of original thought and lights of magnificently creative creations through perceptions of flashing preconceived originality and congested repeaters across a wondrous land of sugar and cinnamon-spiced tea-or-coffee-or me-or-you-or-us or…In the becoming of an impression immortally important and into legacy’s realm repeated and recalled and retweeted we ‘amen’ to both; the previously consummated and the just about to transpire!

Ghost clouds block moonlight as they race clouds across the early morning sky tucked somewhere between dawn and night. And! What is the color of souls? In these dreams there be gods in this place where now only spaces remain. So! Come to Cloud early in transition time and seek flash-ride to spiral and skip into framing time.

These Memorial Gardens are filled and overflowing and encompass many miles. Commons frame these gardens. Statues cover these parks. Here are sacred places and areas and spaces and graces where families gather and depart.

Ashes-to-ashes and dust-to-dust-new-ways-to-win—we must be us!

And! Beautiful you are….

 

‘Can’t Find My Way Home’ by Steve Winwood Performed by — Rachael Price & Chris Thille

 

‘The Other Side’ by Ruelle (Margaret Eckford)

Frail and Almost Maybe…

This time of days of times ago and present time; the old man vision touched, those other ones and whispered, “Not this time—Not this time—our children will not go to war.” Others knew that this time of times would not be the time for dead children and metal touch-to-flesh-madness. And! For these moments warriors are unnecessary and ‘Honor’ is a simple way of Life.

     We do not summon gentle love. It whispers to our spirits and touches us beyond the flesh of resistance. Gentle love moves ‘cross routes of layers to find many lives inside walls;  too high to climb, or too low or too wide or just about the shouts of daily doubts and flight. Love; heart touches and reaches, into body frail and into those impossible attempts to hide among thrones of thorns and weary costs already paid and already spent. Listen! Please listen. And! Love will reminds us of the equality of equals of women and of men and the spirits of all; trapped and living, sentient sentences of life inside the body and forever minding body.

     “In the current phase of intellectual corruption, it must be stressed that, like democracy and human rights, the economic doctrines preached by the rulers are instruments of power, intended for others, so that they can be more efficiently robbed and exploited. No wealthy society accepts these conditions for itself, unless they happen to confer temporary advantage; and their history reveals that sharp departure from these doctrines was a large factor in development.”—Noam Chomsky

     We are not a means to an end that others may wish to accomplish. We are not tools to be used. We are not servants of need-greed-to-be-freed or bandages for other wounds. We are not  sacrifices to gods come whimsy or rushing wings or gift bearing things; beads, baubles, glitter or flash. We androids do dance into Electric nights. Love does lead shifting-shapes through darkest  frights and into sweetest lights. Shadow-touches ‘cross secret ceilings of moon dust and hidden space. Time sans race are inside moments like these and Life is an Almost maybe.

     This dot-dash in time is not America’s ‘darkest hour.’ This is not darkness; just a candle no- spark, no-match-to-wick. Just quick—foolish words—entertainment—more criminal than ‘ever clean.’ A fox in a ‘house-of-hens’— is honorable…This dot-dash in time is just loss unity—without integrity. “A cloud of cicada on acid. A thrumming high-pitched squeal of acoustic irritation.”.

‘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…

     Pay attention to Life—call it a modern Life—and all this modernity—simply wears a body. Wondering if this justice is rendered with and without sunlight? Still a visible universe is visible without sight-to-see? Why not? Love reminds us of the equality of equals—women and men and the spirits of all trapped and—living sentient sentences of life inside the body—minding body.

Touch me in Sing-Song poems. Forget the world and touch me with voice. We two; too need, those requiring words of hope and verse of love’s together forever.We are two; in dark dancing, with rhythm in our minds and drum beats in our hearts…And! Magically—birds transform the air they breathe—into surprisingly sweet songs…

And! Beautiful you are…

Of Earth Twirls and Swirls…

“Nothing behind me, everything ahead of me, as is ever so on the road.”Jack Kerouac

Earth twirlsswirls and fluctuations ensue; either heating or chilling, either simple or killing, and humanities’ whimsy can assist or resist or incline or decline to touch-the-hand-to-hand-to handle-to hearts in memory shifts. Shifts horrific or to include the wonders of new, of differences, of simple similarity of Peace, of Teach, of Reach, and to embrace the race of sweet life, of sweet love and Humanities’ Purest—Practices!

Difference same—same difference and always “Arms open are most excellent.”

In a couple of thousand years, the ‘Travelers’ again will spread wings-to-fly and cross space from a slender beginning to a Mother ship called Earth. With each arrival; many sorts, will term them Gods and Goddesses and Wizards and Angels and Men. The Travelers will unite and divide and arrange and re-arrange and construct and de-construct to originate and annihilate. Ones to worship and ones to fear. Too fearful to despise and each time, their comings and goings are recorded by written word, then word re-written and replaced. Always wars—always. Ever advanced to Earthlings and why these worshiped ones—do not know peace? And! If true; these, creatures of woe, are not true and are not life. No one wonders—why Earthlings are always at war…

Expansions and shifting reds to perceive a Star Path’s motions absent; while Suns’ rubicund color implies, ‘out-bounders’ while ‘in-bounders’ are not ‘red’ shifters. ’Bench markers’ nova enhanced only hinge on the invariability of moment, a ‘tick-tock’ throughout the Universal Split. If Time is ‘downshifting’ than our impressions of solitary tempo is on slow-bump-grind into a dimension of New Space? “Twinkle-Twinkle-Little Star”—how we marvel at what you are? And! Even ancient stars; by Earth-spin-twirl perspective, does seem to still be accelerating.

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

We imagine constant lights, with you there and here and almost everywhere. Viewpoints; angled or dangled or jangled or maybe still same ‘donchaknow’? What occurs when appearance shifts, to only deceive? ‘Shifters’ time lies and space-place and people-in-charge appearing to-be-in-charge are people being studied by people appearing to be ‘not-in-charge.’ So! Let another Dance-without-sound—begin!

We are children of those salted seas and spirit trees. And! Clouds do search for skies. Hollow man; robot be and sans spirit animation without ‘ghosts in machines. We be not holy hollows; we be imagined imaginations beyond pushes of strengths and we dance baby birthing and through powerful protection and iron love, we survive.

Nothing is deeper than love or better than together songs and the unification of interminable spirits. Tired and tried and tested! Rested and begin moving away, a time to go and a quick giggle before looking back. Is this a last time or final rhyme, this time against another line, and moving on? And! Is it finally time to go? Fire of blue light a ‘sorta’ start-stop, dancing right, then yellow streaks, red coats and journey starts. Screaming moons toward light and still; horses run Martian Ridges.

We are self-obsessed; everything us, our gods, our history, our philosophy and our psychology. Still! Cavern folks we may be; then see our ignorance, our prejudices, maybe weak sense and shadow selves and trying to learn to set us free; above ground, round where sunlight and shadows both, confuse and naturally mix. We are grains of elementary realities divided and cornered and pushed and pulled and colliding with one-another. We attract, we join, we couple and uncouple either; byby-product and always random and often accidentally. And! What happened to Democritus? Why is Aristotle’s ‘thought speak’ the foundation of Western normalcy? Why monotheism? Why the ‘anti-pagan’ movement powered by yet another belief ‘Christianity’? Why destroy all written proof not in accordance with ‘Christian Ideas’? Emperor Theodosius made Christianity ‘the only and obligatory religion’ of a once open-minded Empire and Ancient Schools in both—Athens and Alexandria. These schools were closed, and Democritus’ texts of ‘Naturalism’ destroyed. Why? Aristotle and Plato were both ‘Pagans’. They believed in the immortality of the Spirit and the possible existence of God and Gods, Prime ‘Directors’ and not in accordance with Christian’s baffling wanders, but close enough to be tolerated. Must be an Ark! Ships of wood could fool and could be; maybe, a Starship crossing another Sea-of-sky and those spaces between the Stars.

Always wondering doncha know!

Do Spirits depart and travel homeward; to other places, to other suns and spaces where planet twirl does not matter and race-races, racing and starts ‘n’ stops do not exist. No time flavors or must do favors. Not an end! Just a simple begin again and is always right along our side; ’tis maybe, that great mystery we want to know we know anyway. Nothing judges eternal Spirits. There are no reasons or rhymes, nor times to forgive, no material needs or greed. Nothing to develop or disappear. Great church sides lurch forward and backward and more words of material gains and losses and found always around and never necessary and always there.

Beware of any move toward ‘Martial Law’ for those moves will be motions toward another lean toward dictatorship in America; ‘Home of the Wealthy and of the Afraid. Violent sputters and freedoms’ totters, as attacks—re-acts, recalls the falls of heart-mists-tears-the-fears or the ‘WTF’ of thought sense or is the word ‘Nationalist’ another word for ‘Ignorant Hate’?

America’s women-folk learning to defend against—the violence of America’s menfolk…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’

‘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…

‘We Didn’t Start the Fire’...Billy Joel

 

‘Candy’…Iggy Pop w/Kate Pierson

Tick-Tock And Time…

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

Tick-the-tock! Tock-the-tick! Timed! Counters flash red; this descending time, without reason and without rhyme. Closed! Too touched to feel, to die-to-live, to-live-to-die, not to try and not to fly. Only to tick-the-tock and tock-the-tick and cry. Meetings and Children die. Meetings and Spirits fly. Migrants’ horror—a—News Reporter… And! Cry then Die. And! Sigh and still spirits fly.

“Echoes and silence, patience and grace
All of these moments I’ll never replace
No fear of my heart, absence of faith
And all I want is to be home”Dave Grohl

Seas of Immigration—just stall? Just wait outside a bit longer and ‘they’ will all go away? Meet and stall and forget them all? Because people always die? Casualties are always expected? ‘Better-Them-than-Us’… WTF? And! We all were once Immigrants, leaving a someplace home at a someplace hole-in-bottled-time. We are all once moving and hoping for a better place sometime in another time.

“When the sun came shining, and I was strolling,
And the wheat fields waving and the dust clouds rolling,
As the fog was lifting a voice was chanting:
This land was made for you and me.

As I went walking I saw a sign there
And on the sign it said “No Trespassing.”
But on the other side it didn’t say nothing,
That side was made for you and me.

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

Nobody living can ever stop me,
As I go walking that freedom highway;
Nobody living can ever make me turn back
This land was made for you and me”Woody Guthrie

Too many families are terrified! They are our sisters and our brothers. Twisted governments remove children from their mothers. In American—‘Free-land of Liberty’—WTF? Too many decent families are departing their hometowns, too often, too many—to die and their children are the children of this world—They are our children…One death, one tear, too many! And! Due to twisting religions’ or twisted governments’ why and—WTF? Remember! The only reason ‘we-be’ is for our Children…And! ‘Nothing else matters.’

‘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—donchaknow? 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—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 dis-remembered?  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—donchaknow!

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

 

And! Beautiful you are…

 

‘The Last Hope In A World Of Hopes’Temperance

 

‘Human Touch’Bruce Springsteen

 

 

Of Balance—Of Checks…

Near Fort McHenry— began ‘The Battle of Baltimore’ and from a poem “Defence of Fort M’Henry”, Francis Scott Key developed what ultimately—would become “The Star-Spangled Banner.” In 1931, this song would become this Nation’s anthem… Francis watched the battle from a British ship called, the HMS Tonnant. ‘By dawn’s early light’ while still aboard the HMS Tonnant, F.S. Key caught a glimpse of the large and tattered Garrison flag still moving in the gentle wind… Resilience and Triumph; while celebrated through songs and stories, these notions are twin-twined—salted ropes—bondage chains—hunger—fear—gun-powdered air—laws unfair and—always War…

“Defence of Fort M’Henry”

“O say can you see, by the dawn’s early light,

What so proudly we hail’d at the twilight’s last gleaming,

Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight

O’er the ramparts we watch’d were so gallantly streaming?

And the rocket’s red glare, the bomb bursting in air,

Gave proof through the night that

our flag was still there,

O say does that star-spangled banner yet wave

O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave?

On the shore dimly seen through the mists of the deep

Where the foe’s haughty host in dread silence reposes,

What is that which the breeze, o’er the towering steep,

As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?

Now it catches the gleam of the morning’s first beam,

In full glory reflected now shines in the stream,

‘Tis the star-spangled banner – O long may it wave

O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

And where is that band who so vauntingly swore,

That the havoc of war and the battle’s confusion

A home and a Country should leave us no more?

Their blood has wash’d out their foul footstep’s pollution.

No refuge could save the hireling and slave

From the terror of flight or the gloom of the grave,

And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave

O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave.

O thus be it ever when freemen shall stand

Between their lov’d home and the war’s desolation!

Blest with vict’ry and peace may the heav’n rescued land

Praise the power that hath made and preserv’d us a nation!

Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,

And this be our motto – “In God is our trust,”

And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave

O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave.”—Francis Scott Key

Francis Scott Key used his office as the District Attorney for the City of Washington from 1833 to 1840 to defend slavery, attacking the abolitionist movement in several high-profile cases.” WTF?

We go to war for many-many reasons…And! Not often, but just once-in-a-while—we ‘the people’ almost become free people—but never-ever free of War. One can still love one’s country and hate War…One-can-still-love-one’s-country and Hate the war of ideologies—divisions of colors (‘red and blue and tattoo you’) …We share—we care and Governments must never separate the ‘We the People’ from the ‘US’ of America…And! If the Executive and Legislative and Judicial branches—treetop high—dance without harmony—hopefully—they will always—dance—check the balance and balance the check—donchaknow? Because of this dance—we may—be free for just a-little-bit—longer…

“Sign—sign everywhere a sign—blocking out—the scenery—breaking my mind—Do this don’t do that—can’t you read the sign”… by Les Emmerson

Venezuela: How do positive steps—Socialist reformation, a people’s transformation, a government of wealth redistribution—founded on the peoples’ needs—dreams of better days and hope for a long-term future become a failure? Venezuela has trillions of dollars in petrochemical wealth…It also proof of greed’s ruin and prosperity climax—ruin and end.

Spin this among a million worlds across thousands of sun/stars. Calimesa had once known riches…Crystal rich planet of star-drive fuel for thousands of Star ships…Colonial power cast about one thousand worlds…A rich center—wealth—work for everyone—educated—protected peoples…All good until greed destroyed Calimesa completely in one thousand years…Among the stars Power lives and dies much quicker—than Black Sun twirls—whirls of long-life and death fast—Explode and move on…Crow-man’s old world name, his Calimesian name—is Theodis—Carmelt-Shiamotory…Theodis was born wealthy—was born a beautifully shaped baby—grew into a beautiful being—moved beyond green water and green diamond foam— shaped-to-shift—to other shapes—another heartbeat—heat—bother body to another—space-place-race and graced to forget everything…Not an Earther—still earth-bound—gravity ground—added—pound—adapted to see—to be—to flee and survive another dive—spaced—race—paced—too fast-to-be-so-slow…

“Walls appear—Fear—No! Climb those Walls and Welcome Home.”

And! Beautiful you are…

 

Paper Write and Rights …

M_154All Paper Rights are worthless—the writing paper more precious—if no mechanical—mechanisms are already in place to hold all Rulers accountable—to those Paper Write—Rights. Yul Brynner once—with hand flourish—committed—RamesesII-Speak—and said; “So let it be written—So let it be done.” From Pharaohs—to King/Queen Speak to the Magna Carta—to the—American ‘Constitution’ of Speak—and still no realized—Speak of—‘Freedom and Liberty’—until every living thing—is ‘free-to-live’—and to synchronize-in-equivalence with Earth-spin and with-each-other.

Still! Burdened Beasts—and too many-for-Less and More—for just a wig-waggled few and ‘the beat goes on’—donchathink? The United States of America began in a whimper of ‘freedom for those same few’ and through the blood of—many—lesser folks—still continue today—failure for the multitudes and stolen—by anyone—claiming a ‘Runaway—Machined-War-Mechanism’—is prosperity and Death is Freedom’s Sacrifice. American Genocide began when first—Native Americans dared believe and were—slaughtered for —Well! ‘Long Live-that-Crazy and All—Mixed-Up—Dream Me Up—a Paradise or Two.’

Today! Just like another yesterday—Tomorrow just like another Today—doesn’t fade away—just pray—and pick a stone or two and wait long enough—another life to slew—and maintain few—in silver castles just—miles above Planet—spin—still not reached by ground-bound—Us—dying and living without rhythm or rhyme…Monuments carved in blood—masses starving. Temples mounted and delivered by—century’s blood—stained pasts and shattered futures. Mud huts fall when built beside gated compounds—until blood covered gates—rust away and grass fills cracked walls where palaces once defined—Rulers’ failure to synchronize-in-equivalence with Earth-spin and with hungry people.

World-Speak is never Nation-Speak—unless forced by strength—against—weak and imbalanced places—ruined or lost and found and lost again…Wait! Imbalance a country—or a region—and will—the civilization of many—be destroyed—by the Destroyers or by the Imbalance of the Imbalanced? Strategic Genocide—absolutely. Toss in a dash of—Religious intolerance and bang-bang-bang—ready-made—imbalance with large doses of death—destruction and War! The middle of an Eastern portion of a world spinning across a universe of space and time of landfall and splendor—has a determination—created by—a Western ideology so foreign and devoid of principle that Sociocide is a study in collateral damage and a ‘resourceful’ necessity. Egypt—Palestine—Lebanon—Syria—Iraq—Iran and…Presently—these wars are battles of imbalance created by this Terror from the West. Someday soon—this will pass…Life is sacred and family is love!

What of the People—the many—the injured—the women—the children—the homeless? Refugees of—Strategic Genocide…Meetings—and Planning—and—Planning—and Meetings. Still! The refugees of Strategic Genocide die—must be planned—must be decisive death—by many more—meetings…Does anyone require God or Allah or Buddha? No! Only—We are required to Live…Be damned—the Rulers-of-Anywhere-of-Anyplace and-of-Anytime…Not really needed—for our blood to flow inside—where blood belongs—and to synchronize-in-equivalence with Earth-spin and with-each-other. We are few and so many—Lost-Broken-and-Forgotten…War is now! War is yesterday! War is tomorrow! Today—we free-fall toward acceleration and the annihilation of Everyday. Presently—In another place—the Witches of Creations Cry!

And! Beautiful you are…

He was the wizard of a thousand kings
And I chanced to meet him one night wandering
He told me tales and he drank my wine
Me and my magic man kind of feeling fine

He had a cloak of gold
And eyes of fire
And as he spoke I felt a deep desire
To free the world of its fear and pain
And help the people to feel free again

Why don’t we listen to the voices in our hearts
‘Cause then I know we’d find we’re not so far apart
Everybody’s got to be happy
Everyone should sing
For we know the joy of life
The peace that love can bring

So spoke the wizard in his mountain home
The vision of his wisdom means we’ll never be alone
And I will dream of my magic night
And the million silver stars that guide me with their light…The Wizard’ by Uriah Heep

Liberty Of Nevertimes…

PS_97Children of other dawns—touch hand or swish shoulders once or twice or often—without the counting of times or steps or memories. Be 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. Live only—on this stretch of sand and along with—the catching up of tide flows—believe the ice and water before and behind us are our ground and our chapter of seasons lived—written against the sands of shifting grain and the wind.

In June of 1787, James Madison addressed the Constitutional Convention in Philadelphia on the dangers of a permanent army. “A standing military force, with an overgrown Executive will not long be safe companions to liberty,” he argued. “The means of defense against foreign danger have been always the instruments of tyranny at home. Among the Romans it was a standing maxim to excite a war, whenever a revolt was apprehended. Throughout all Europe, the armies kept up under the pretext of defending, have enslaved the people.”

The New York Times reports, “During our present administration, according to Pentagon data, police departments have received tens of thousands machine guns; nearly 200,000 ammunition magazines; thousands of pieces of camouflage and night-vision equipment; and hundreds of silencers, armored cars and aircraft.”

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.”

Silencers—Machine guns? Now! Why would local law enforcement need that sort of gear? No shot to ‘ring—out’ and body still falls? Bullet Gods—Kingdoms of Death—wondering where freedom was lost and found—began or—an end—of—ghosts’ whisper ‘Life—Liberty—and the Pursuit of Runners—running out of streets and roads and places free of ‘No—Don’t—will not and not going-to-happen’—Amen again—again and Amen again?’ When life—back turns—and runs away—when unarmed couples die inside anything—when does ‘Fear-of-Life’—End and when does Murder Begin?

Early morning when sounds are soft against ear and movement does not play darts and goes and stop and start. Reflect or not to think—but to happen as life happens—in the sweet flow of quiet seashore in bright moons—light. Waves—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 are—barefoot children of yesterday. We leave behind—dancing—little paws—marks—in semi-wet sand—cool without sunshine.

Pipers play and—children dance into a ragged sorted night—and as they dance— Goddess flash—darkness thunders and—those claps of little hands and rings join songs and laughter—only as a child laugh–sings. A piper of the raggedy—sorting day and the role of rolls—the answer ones—dance behind and beside the flute of silver crafts and a simple dancing song. ‘A better day,’ they shout and everyone agrees.

And! Beautiful you are…

‘Never Enough’ by Epica

Never Enough

Wing Sounds And Silence…

Drop“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.”

‘The Mother of Creation’…A voice of Feminine Divine Power

Spirit is in this world…It doesn’t belong to it. It does not belong to the illusory world of matter and of time. Spirit maybe the spark of antimatter firing sparkles… Without a spark of antimatter called ‘Spirit’ nothing called a— human being could have evolved into what ‘It’ is today? This special spark is uncreated—divine and may begin through the touch—of an ‘Unknowable Kingdom’—Muse—Enlightenment—Genius—Anger—Thrill—Joy–Wonder—Magic and….Creative energies maybe Creative Spirits…With the beginning of Christianity—the existence and essence of—Man—were three entities—Body and Soul and Spirit…Both—Saint Paul and Saint Augustine believed this to be Truth…However—future Councils and through the decisions of Pope(s) and the Roman Catholic Church—what remains for us (we the masses) —are the Body and the Soul and other Ghosts—Outsiders…What happened to Spirit? Has Spirit conveniently—disappeared?

Stand beneath moon light —and above-the-form of Draped Ones and cast motions—gentle designs across this easy night. Be tall—be short—be large—be small and gather to hear the—soft waves scatter ‘cross shore and land beneath feet—bare or fur-covered—both—warmed in the air of night and safe inside the darkness of this easy night. Watch the shadows of bridge span and steel as wooden shapes pass underneath the towers of man—created when young species roamed earth-bound and the constructions of shapes and water passages filled the world—before the tearing days and summer’s song. A night bird cries and another winged one settles protected within thick tree grasses inside the shadows of the moon.

Large ones—rise to surface and water gently swirls behind them. They are slow and sweet and strong inside a current they know—as their reasons and their purposes inside the strength of their being—strong and imagined and real. The River Manatee sleeps and its current survives. Life is—without color and as important as survival’s Gravity…Love is—without gender and—must be universally shared by everyone alive…And! The Witch Smiles…

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 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 the many sounds of poverty silent—when greed deafens—growls of hunger and the pleas of need—in the Mystic— ‘Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave?’ Protest and Speech Politic—twirls now toward the swirls of grenades that flash and crying sprays and Robocop of ‘all-dressed up’—and still—the You and I of—Us against each-other…We are 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’  conditioned to see our neighborhoods and us (‘We the People’) as their Enemy…People-Person-You and I—We still are…

And! Beautiful you are…

‘From the Beginning’…by Emerson, Lake and Palmer

From The Beginning

Motions of Life Forms…

147“I close your eyes with my mouth
Now you don’t see anything
But you feel my breath all over
I can feel you too

Although I don’t really know you
I don’t really care

Cry with me, make my day
Tomorrow all will be gone
All the sweetness and all the fun
No, I don’t wanna know…

Although I don’t really know you
I don’t really care

Now that you’re gone I don’t know
How to really feel inside
Baring the hope to see you again
I guess I never will

Now that I do really know you
Yes, I really care!”…from ‘Leaves’ by The Gathering

The Spacer Enoch was both an Eternal Spirit and a Physical Being? (Nothing more or less than special—since ‘We-be’—all this—and more.)…Did ‘He—be’ a Spacer or an Earth Guide? Was he another writer of songs and a singer of Goddess Speak—Life forms and Eternal Spirits…Again—Both? Or! Just another distant being or just another Martian? Physical lives do dance with eternal spirits—creations run—ruinous—roads to splendid wonders and premier horrors…Heaven’s gate is hard to find and many have ‘perished-the-thought’ and died attempting to pass from star-gate to star-fall on the planet-slide of hell and paradise. Angel is alone–both hard and soft and ready to purpose the reason of her travel and the message she whispers to mysterious magic folk and the very quick or the very—dead. Angel—she calls herself and she imagines her image as—a double self and triple purposed with a silent drum—of butterfly wings and the knowledge of both living and dying before the end of twin-planet sins times fourteen.

Do motions of poverty ‘cause-a-pause’ in ordinary behavior as quickly as money—free—working folks from necessary labor? Are Economies simple subsets of Ecosystems? Are Human Rights natural? Are the people sovereign? Must the strength of women in production, reproduction, civil society and political life be measured? And! Is Capitalism’s capacity for wealth—bringing with it—wars-crisis and unemployment, pollution-poverty and extreme inequalities—a moral and practical failure?…Are its credits similar—to standing inside—Palace Ruins and being unable to leave? Is nationalism a global phenomenon and an irresistible force of unnatural nature? When political scientists mention the words ‘international and relationships’ are they actually relating to the interaction between states? Bolshevik communism worked with—instead of— repressing nationalism…And! Let the wars begin because—“My Dog is better than Your Dog?”

Schweickart’s definition of an ‘Economic Democracy’ is a community of workers controlled by ‘Market Socialism.” It is also a “transitional and mixed economy with a government operating in the interest and with the consent of a progressive majority—The Working Class.” Throughout the world—Economic Democracy has failed—because Modern Capitalist entities are now Polyarchies…And! Polyarchy is not Democracy…While many people are able to cast votes—the wealthy are simply—a privileged class and have the power of Hegemony—a power structure in which a single group leads the other groups in a country—or society or political or cultural dominance or authority over others—or the domination of a culturally diverse society by the ruling class…

And! Humans—are creatures that should not exist within the laws of nature. Or—should we? Since life is Eternal Spirit—humans are in-step with all living creatures inside-outside these laws…We are aware of self—however—all creatures are aware of being…Sweet paws of moving life are perfect. They do and they are perfect—without single mistake or confusion. Being a life is not a judgment calling or bleeding the greed of out-of-control-meetings of self or me without the—we of all of us—without four sweet paws to quickly move or twin fine wings to fly or fins or dorsal ships or shapes of magic tucked safely beneath the morning sea. We—walk or crawl or fly or swim—we are life… And! Remember…These varied shapes of life are too—Eternal Spirits created or debated or accepted or rejected or imagined or imaged in creations either by divine accidents or notion’s whimsy or just… Strange fictions—Gods from Heaven shall come back and destroy the Earth in fiery stuff and suffering? Except for a pathetic few—all will perish? Hells-Bells—must be man-speak…We have been killing and destroying and suffering—since when? We are very good at waging war…Hate—always corrode the container it is carried in…So! For a New Day try a Different View! It is good to be a Spirited Robot—donchathink?

And! Beautiful you are…

‘Leaves’—by The Gathering

THE GATHERING – Leaves