Tag Archives: Politics

Jul 4 2017

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…

 

Feb 27 2016

Hordes of Rage Street…

Yusuf Islam“Peace Train’

“Now I’ve been happy lately
Thinking about the good things to come
And I believe it could be
Something good has begun
Oh, I’ve been smiling lately
Dreaming about the world as one
And I believe it could be
Some day it’s going to come
‘Cause out on the edge of darkness
There rides a peace train
Oh, peace train take this country
Come take me home again
Now I’ve been smiling lately
Thinking about the good things to come
And I believe it could be
Something good has begun
Oh, peace train sounding louder
Glide on the peace train
Come on the peace train
Yes, peace train holy roller
Everyone jump upon the peace train
Come on the peace train
Get your bags together
Go bring your good friends too
‘Cause it’s getting nearer
It soon will be with you
Now come and join the living
It’s not so far from you
And it’s getting nearer
Soon it will all be true
Oh, peace train sounding louder
Glide on the peace train
Come on the peace train
Peace train
Now I’ve been crying lately
Thinking about the world as it is
Why must we go on hating
Why can’t we live in bliss
‘Cause out on the edge of darkness
There rides a peace train
Oh, peace train take this country
Come take me home again
Oh, peace train sounding louder
Glide on the peace train
Come on the peace train
Yes, peace train holy roller
Everyone jump upon the peace train
Come on, come on, come on
Yes, come on the peace train
Yes, it’s a peace train”…by Yusuf Islam

When peering through keyholes—of anecdote and description—we may discover—scatters and bits-of-bytes—self—no self—us—not us—and always—a something—somewhere—tunnel version—or panoramic—exhaustively great—grated spreads—facts of fictions—truths and not— exactly correct. Along thin—streaks of asphalt—and concrete side-way—the sidewalks of ‘Rage Street’ fill—with howlers and prowlers—simple symphonies—fiddler bows—and drum-sticks—silver and crowds—of the comers and the goers—of the blenders—and the unwanted—the home folk—and the strangest—strangers—foreign—homecoming—and the giggle-of-mirth.

We are an instant in Time—Lined in rows of minutes…We are The People—Eternal Spirits all—We are The People—We are not Religions—We are The People—We are not Governments—We are The People—-We are not War—We are The People—We are not Aliens upon this Earth—We are The People—Children of the Universe—We are The People—We have the Right-to-be-Everywhere—We are The People—And! Governments All—Hear us Call—We are The People—All-of-Us—Right Now! Tomorrow Time—‘tis still the Crime—We are The People—We are the—Choice of the—Spin-of-the-Twirl—and—Spirits-of-the-Universal Swirl…So! Let us-be-written—So! Let-us-be Done…

And! Beautiful you are…

“Peace Train”…by Yusuf Islam…

 

“Dangerous Type”…by Ric Ocasek—performed by The Cars

Dec 12 2015

Even Here—We Belong…

WL_591‘La Liberté éclairant le monde’

“Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed, to me:
I lift my lamp beside the golden door.”

The gentle touch—of skin—brushed-wind—morning stars—and angel’s dust… And! These precious feet-touch—wings-speak—to start another path—leading little ones—to another—precious shore—sustained hope—and—just wishes for a moment—of ‘good day’…Uncertain in world-scream—uncertainties-wide—grief—bowed head—always—certain in—the certainty—of swift chaos—and—tears…And so—no doubt—be found—from ‘cross this sea—travelers see—candles bright—‘cross this night—a coming home-to-us—delight—light shined—‘Welcome’—from windows’ space—of Safe Harbor—not race—just place—to stop—and—stay awhile…

Our People—our many—our injured—our women—our children—our homeless? We are Refugees—the running ones— from—strategic Genocide…White towers—and—meetings—and planning—and—meetings—and planning—and—still we die. And—Still! We are—refugees—of Strategic Genocide—praying—dying—crying—and—again planning—denying—and more Ivory Tower—White-world—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 needed—for our blood—to inside flow—where blood belongs—and—to ‘synchronize-in-equivalence’—with—sweet—Earth-spin—and—with-each-other. We are—so many—bodies—Lost-Broken-and-Forgotten. War is now! War is yesterday! War is tomorrow! Today—‘we free-fall’—toward—acceleration—and—annihilation—of—Everyday. And! The Witches of Creations Cry!

Fools and folly—of off-world—stops—our only way—to continue—to—be. Foolish—they—fail to see—their vision—be—a fade—into star-stream—and—moon-dust. They remove—our Love…He looked—up and said—”Scan the sky-sweet baby. Must leave… They will kill you—So somehow—go to them—and you will not die.” She too looked—and—only—saw his face— “Without you, I am dead…Without us—we end. Without you—without me—no Baby—and without—we are…” Ivory Towers—bring—Strategic Death—and Plans—to meet—and—Meetings-to-Plan? Still! Bank wide and Somme River wet—falls—physicals—thousands more—spirits all—stories’ lost—to-be-or-too-lost-to-see—tucked inside—smoke—wiz-bangs—teach—life chokes—barbed wire fears—and—evening tears—‘cross—‘Crimson Fields’—a million—one day long—lives—too precious—too quickly—gone. And! The Witches of Creations Cry!

We began—before the stars—And together we melt—into the mist…”We-Be’—Fire and shadows—‘cross a sky—Colored moons—of blood—of gold—and—simple-songs and thudding drums. Stars ‘light up’—home—and—we move by wind—across this place…In sunlight waves and dancing twists—of silver rain and stretching space—and—ship’s gentle streaks—in skies of grace—with muted voice—and—silent rooms—of—blood touched throat—and—emptied tombs. Bridge walked toward—and—skylight’s scream—by taking flight—and—failing dream. Warming suns—just—days ago—with salted mist—and—taste of tongue—and—passion light—and—times of rain—and—wolf cries shout—of sands and home. Across this universal stretch—window shine—and—candle’s light—and let us touch—another peace—of safety sleep—and— lover’s reach.

‘The Trail of Tears’

“The sunrise above them
As they make their way
In the early morning light
No backward glance
Frightened of tomorrow
On a lonely road
Shrouded in misted rain
The vanquished race
They felt the touch of loneliness
They felt the dread of fear
And found the path of wisdom
Along the trail of tears
So many ways of falling
A thousand barefoot tribes
Who trusted promises
No resting place
March into the wilderness
Time their fate decides
Leaving behind them
Treasures and gold
The sun sets before them
In another land
Withered in spirit
The struggle ends”…By Noel Ó Dúgáin

And! Beautiful you are…

‘Trail of Tears’…by Clannad

Jan 12 2014

Colors of a Blue Robot…

A61_ImperialA cold glow of slowing eyes and shifted rhythm and trying lies—the center of centered power—predatory preface and conclusions and top-to-heavy weighted— the dominion of world domination where production increases and shifted colonial thinking—these systems fare-fairly and Cowards of the Bankers Collective—police this world of spin and grin as political murder cycles the recycling of life and labor and hopeless gains or losses and earth crosses—carved in both stone and wood—litter another grave-side hill or cemetery fill.  So! Come and dance along ridges of this capitalistic anarchy and celebrate the completion of complete evil. As producers rise to their greatest productive cycles—so the Bankers of Cowardice deprive the Productive Ones of the fruits of their collective labor—as the government of republic nonsense—create those rules to establish compliance—faithfully and a religion of submission.

“I am convinced there is only one way to eliminate (the) grave evils (of capitalism), namely through the establishment of a socialist economy, accompanied by an educational system which would be oriented toward social goals. In such an economy, the means of production are owned by society itself and are utilized in a planned fashion. A planned economy, which adjusts production to the needs of the community, would distribute the work to be done among all those able to work and would guarantee a livelihood to every man, woman, and child. The education of the individual, in addition to promoting his own innate abilities, would attempt to develop in him a sense of responsibility for his fellow-men in place of the glorification of power and success in our present society.”  Albert Einstein…

Laws to paper and the folly of warrior-speak cause productive folk to forget— their capacity for producing the Goods for the Consumers’ appetite and whimsy—are actually—including goods capitally excessive—legally their own goods. However; warriors together dance into the camps of those Lords-of-belief and enjoy-briefly—victorious spoils—then those conquering folks are moved toward other edges of lightness or darkness leaving behind Lords-of-flounder-no-founder. These crafty ones  establish nation-speak and create rich rules of submissive—commission and omission and from the gods of twirl—a swirl of lies complete with religious flounder-no founding foundations of blue sky and word shine so devotedly—devoted to jetsam and flotsam as to be unfathomed unless operated by a ‘few called or chosen’ and appointed—those trusted to count and flaunt— coins extracted from the many ignorant—through the fear of blue sky without spears or the wraith of…God-Gods and stuff—Oh my!

Wondering now if inside the heart of those fortunate-of-fortunate ones still warms a notion of a superiority of blood types—and a constant hope to ‘Civilize and Christianize’  the whatever of free thought still available in this darkening boil-of-light. Call this ‘Social Darwinism’ or another fading  confusion of a ‘Party of Tea Baggers’ or just another form of America’s incessant attempts to Colonize the Earth. Anyway—must be a ‘good’ kind-of-kink—because any decent ‘Bagger of Tea’ only practices ‘Progressive Imperialism.’ Everywhere—except America—requires civilization—because outside these ‘fifty chunks-of-ground-round’— all is backward and in need of an elevation of living standard and culture…Let us hope to assimilate these ‘poor’ folks into the Imperial Society…And! Should ‘Their’ lands be rich in minerals—liquid gold—boarders to another launching—cheap labor—Good! Slash and Burn and Move ‘On.’

“I heard you tellin’ lies
I heard you say you weren’t born of our blood
I know we’re the crooked kind
But you’re crooked too, boy, and it shows

Some get dealt simple hands
Some walk the common paths, all nice and worn
But all folks are damaged goods
It ain’t a talk of “if,” just one of “when” and “how”

So, collect your scars and wear ’em well
Your blood’s a good an ink as any
Go scratch your name into the clouds
And pull ’em all… down

The thunder plays it’s drum
The air is heavy with the smell of storms
And I sit beside my brother and I feel him shake
As he laughs himself right back to sleep
And I’m laughin’ with him

But I smell their blood
My finger’s trace their faces in the wood
I hear their voices somewhere in my bones
I feel them sing along when I’m alone
When I’m not too frightened that is when I know

That I’m here with everyone
They’re never truly gone
I know it’s everyone
And I hear their songs
Oh, I’m lost with everyone

Shadows dance around the room
I know their names
I carry their blood too
They sing forgotten songs
But I know the words
They’ve been with me since I was born
As I grew I danced with them too”— ‘The Crooked Kind’ by Radical Face

Robots Inclined…never  murder—How may robots be called murderers—their armies of killers always kill for them? Kings and Queens and Presidents and Premiers and Politicians cannot be called Murderers—Their Armies of Killer-bots always kill for them. And! Even after Revolution—Rich-keep-on-saying-rich and the-rest-of-us-just-die…

And! Beautiful you are…

‘The Crooked Kind’—performed by Radical Face

Aug 28 2013

Racing to Middle Placing…

Precious Syrian Life“Oh, a storm is threat’ning
My very life today
If I don’t get some shelter
Oh yeah, I’m gonna fade away

War, children, it’s just a shot away
It’s just a shot away
War, children, it’s just a shot away
It’s just a shot away

Ooh, see the fire is sweepin’
Our very street today
Burns like a red coal carpet
Mad bull lost its way

War, children, it’s just a shot away
It’s just a shot away
War, children, it’s just a shot away
It’s just a shot away

Rape, murder!
It’s just a shot away
It’s just a shot away

Rape, murder!
It’s just a shot away
It’s just a shot away

Rape, murder!
It’s just a shot away
It’s just a shot away

The floods is threat’ning
My very life today
Gimme, gimme shelter
Or I’m gonna fade away

War, children, it’s just a shot away
It’s just a shot away
It’s just a shot away
It’s just a shot away
It’s just a shot away

I tell you love, sister, it’s just a kiss away
It’s just a kiss away
It’s just a kiss away
It’s just a kiss away
It’s just a kiss away
Kiss away, kiss away”—by Mick Jagger and Keith Richards

Today! What is happening right now…Move it to an empty world…And a place called America will kill in the name of Peace? Planet Protector? Planet protectors or Earth’s Destroyer? Damn (Give-Us-All-Shelter)…

Names of: Religions—Governments—Regions—Flags—Banners—Control—Causes—Still; War and Rape is Murder—pick a gun—a bomb—a tank—a chemical—come by land or sea or air—War and Rape is Murder…(Give-Us-All-Shelter)…

The Middle Home is Face—The Middle Home is Place…And War is just a….We die with every shot…One body falls—we all fall…Our sweet Middle Home and more war…The great firing-killing machines are again and again—Can you not hear the Angels sing—Peace Now? (Give-Us-All-Shelter)…

‘Love is just a Kiss Away’…Better to Fall In Love—Than to Fall In Battle…Damn (Please-Give-Us-All-Shelter—Right Now)….

And! Beautiful you are…

‘Gimme Shelter’—Rolling Stones with (Lisa Fischer)

Jun 27 2013

Moon Color Red…

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

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

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

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

Ο Όρκος του Ιπποκράτη

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And! Beautiful you are…

Jun 11 2013

The Balance of Nations…

P_88In the twirl of the whirl and between the steps of metal warriors, Robots—us begin a step-lock of unison and the hope of…Earth renewal and the premised promises of days to better the inside-outside of motions reached without notions of greed and the failure of ‘too-much-too soon and too often.’

Freedom requires a society to alter a spread of nothing too many and too much to very few. Kingdoms? Governments? Religions—A name of control by a few over everyone? Prophets and Saviors have roamed this sweet earth and gently whispered of social worlds and caring among societies. Were these magic-folk the founders of Socialism? Did magicians of Buddhism or Islam or Hinduism or Christianity conjure the magic of Socialism?

The Religions that quickly chased—followed these Foundation Creators created War Machines and Kingdoms of Profit…Wars—Crusades—Reformation—Alteration—Reputation—Saturation and Infatuation— are ruler words…Bloodletting ensues and what is physical turns to dust in eyes-twinkle and agony…On the back of labor and slaves and wage-slaves…Governments are created—enhanced—and ultimately destroyed. ‘Blood—Sweat—Tears’ are people costs…Rulers advance and decline once they dismiss their origin of originality.

Western Civilization…Equals the commission of crimes against Humanity to further Profit Lust and the Terror of Capitalism. Moments in time, recorded by the people and not by the winners of wars and the concentration of wealthy words and lies; world variances and imbalances are discovered.  Imbalanced nations (currently in the Middle East)?  When people die—the wealthy win…Many people die—the wealthy win. When there are wars—the wealthy win.  Called Religious wars—Sectarian strife—and many other names. The destruction of balance—Yes–Yes—Yeah!

During the 20th century, the USA favored dictators over freedom throughout South America. Cuba is very close—almost ‘Florida close…’ Why is this present day embargo still the reality of an ‘old-white-men’ government? Another terror of Capitalism—Yes! Why is Socialism an enemy of the People? It is not a crime nor is it against the rights of People anywhere…Redistribute the costs of Cold and Hot Wars committed against humanity during the twentieth century and our world—prospers in a Social world. Equality—Yes—Yes—Yeah!

In countries practicing Capitalism (USA, etc.) the means of production are not labor’s property. Very few people own the land and materials required for manufacturing, factories, machines and other instruments of production…Therefore; if you are not wealthy you are a slave—a wage slave. Wages are never fair because the lust-for-profit is more powerful than Truth, Justice, Love and Life.

Corporate ‘cultures’ easily translated mean—profit at all cost and all of the Working Class is an expense…Eliminate every expense to further our profits! La Serrata—Separation? Where are the values we learned from our mothers? Why is greed the prime motive of Industry and its future development? For the standards of friendship and family and our world, Capitalism is the antithesis. It adheres to competition at all costs. It dismisses cooperation, help for fellowman, responsibility to society, the benefits of others and love.

Abusing the rights of the Workers-of-the-World is a Crime against Humanity…Like Genocide and Sociocide, these abuses; destroy life and the freedom of people everywhere on this twirly-whirly planet. Capitalism is not freedom…It is slavery for us all…It is war and a savage waste of precious life…It benefits no one except a few. It destroys Society…It forces revolution and revolution is bloody. Why is Religion also an industry? Why not just…Lust of life—not of Riches?

  • Per Pope John II— Centesimus Annus: “Ownership of the means of production, whether in industry or agriculture, is just and legitimate if it serves useful work. It becomes illegitimate, however, when it is not utilized or when it serves to impede the work of others in an effort to gain a profit which is not the result of the overall expansion of work and the wealth of society, but rather is the result of curbing them or of illicit exploitation, speculation or the breaking of solidarity among working people. Ownership of this kind has no justification and represents an abuse in the sight of God and humanity.”

So Again:  “Go ahead and hate your neighbor—go ahead and cheat a friend—Do it in the name of heaven— you could justify it in the end—There won’t be any trumpets blowing—come the judgment day—On the bloody morning after—One Tin Soldier rides away.”

—by Joni Mitchell

And! Beautiful you are…