"To this day"...

R.I.P. Neil

In memory of Neil, I will post a poem he wrote for me.


a heart of pounding rivers
palms of sunlight streams
braids of allways shining
eyes of loving beams
gleaming luminosity
deepened inner peace
smile of springtime flowers
natures longing reach
far and near and everywhere
lifting mountains hold
warmth of fire leaping
rivers mighty flow
breathing ever deeply
touch of far beyond
reverberating everything
natures loving song

..peace..

neil

Thanks for your heartsong Neil.
May you journey on in peace.

Ides of Something Are Upon Us

It was the time of religious wars. It was a time of materialism and intellectual darkness. It was a time of epidemic moral compromise and the end justifying the means by whatever means. It was a time of the worship of the transitory and the elevation of drunken ignorance over the thirst for truth. Truth was a refugee in flight on a violent night. It was a time of deception and reaction toward the solution of freedom as an intolerable state and a non commercially viable condition. It was a time of precessions and regressions and a confusion of the moment on the doorstep of irrevocable change. It was a hard time to live in unless you were one of the few who made existence hard for everyone else. It was a time of images and symbols that were wielded as weapons upon superficial minds so inclined and submissive in a pornographic sexual exchange that mocked the true surrender of the deeper self to the higher awareness and all things human. It was a time of debasement for the virtues and a celebration of vice because it was a time of political correctness masking the hatred for all that was good and real.

We were the people that might have been; you should have gotten in touch with us then. We were the unseeing in relentless persecution of those envisioned who were labeled a threat to the disorder of order. We were pawns engaged in our own destruction, proud and stupid and false. We cheered in the coliseums and informed on our fellows. We raised perversion to be normal and locked normal in a barn. We laughed with merciless humor at persecutions that came by our consent and everything that was true and meaningful within us, got up and went. We were the Hell-bound in denial of the heaven sent. We embraced the animal as the civilized way, cannibalizing our loved ones and killing ourselves, like a collection of poor unfortunates who gnawed off their own foot. We held what was trivial as a worshipful profound and we went all too quickly into the cold and forgotten ground. We made heroes out of rogues and pariahs out of our most important friends. We were the generation of vipers, ever and ever after, amen.

You will not see or I could show you. You will not hear or I could tell you. You will not be stopped or moved. You will see perdition as the holy gates and hear the lies of your corrupted guides as they take you through corridors of the condemned up the thirteen steps. We would have served and healed you but we were cast out from our quarters as your neighbors and friends.

Into this time of darkness came a signal event. They called it 9/11 and they made it into a royal seal, like a lock on a letter for the eyes of the few who composed the lies it contained and who carried out the crime. You could not see the contents but you had their guarantee that all was well and legal, keeping moving, there is nothing here to see.

You vain and fatuous mortals you shall reap the indifferent wind that was roused by your indifference and nothing will be the same again. You dance and pray and celebrate the horror and the lies. You pinch your face and become solemn though you must be uneasy beneath and your keepers snicker and make jokes at your expense. You lick their hands for they are your master and determiner of fate.


You can’t get there from here.


You can’t get there from here.


You can’t get there from here.


We few who wait by highway, we hold up the signs, “the bridge is out” and the road is slippery when wet with the blood of those you have driven over through proxy and malicious assent. You cannot hear and you will not see so you will be forced from both perspectives and you will be brought to your knees. A pestilence moves among you motivated by hunger and greed. They are the habitation of demons. They are the demons seed and you are honored and privileged to serve on their behalf which is the end of all of you. It is no wonder that they laugh.

They will not change. They cannot change they are the expression of what cannot be pacified or convinced. They are open to no argument that might affect profit or excess. They are the poisonous few in your midst. They pretend they are you and you are content.

Source

"I have come to every day Armageddon..."

GAZA: by Suheir Hammad.

A great miracle happened here
a festival of lights
a casting of lead upon children
an army feasting on epiphany

I know nothing under the sun over the wall no one mentions
some must die wrapped in floral petroleum blanket
no coverage

I have come to every day Armageddon
a ladder left unattended
six candles burn down a house
a horse tied to smoke
some must die to send a signal

Flat line scream live stream river a memory longer than life spans
the living want to die in their country

No open doors no open seas no open
hands full of heart five daughters wrapped in white

Each day jihad
each day faith over fear
each day a mirror of fire
the living want to die with their families

The girl loses limbs her brother gathers arms
some must die for not dying

Children on hospital floor mother beside
them the father in shock this is my family
I have failed them this is my family I did
not raise their heads I have buried them
my family what will I do now my family is bread
one fish one people cut into pieces

There is a thirst thefts life
there is a hunger a winter within winter

Some must die to bring salvation
i have come to end times always present

The woman lost parents her children and screams
my sister I have lost my sister I want to die
my sister's eyes were honey her voice mine
I can't face this only god only god my sister

Medics killed schools hit convoys bombed
the injured are dying the dead are buried in three
hours the people pray together and curse the people
mourn loud and quiet always too loud not enough

Some must die because they are the vicinity
some must die because it was written

No army does not apologize has never
apologized authority chases paper assembly
occupation settles deeper

A great miracle here
the living are dying and the dying living

A festival of lights
a strip a land a blaze
the sea a mirror of fire

A casting of lead upon children
their heads roll off their shoulders into streets
their tops spin in hands

An army feasting on epiphany
driving future into history
carrying torches into women...

MaNdlovu - Great Mother

Jami Sieber - Mandlovu Mind 

Suddenly, I am single mind extended across,
An unknown geography.
imprinted, as if by a river, on the moment,
her mind held in unison by a large, great, tribe.
Meandering in reverent concert among trees, feasting on leaves.
One great eye reflecting blue from the turn inward,
toward the hidden sky.
I am drawn forward by the lattice, a web of inaudible sound,
throwing and gliding on pathways we remember.
I am,(I am), We are,(we are), who can distinguish us,
a gathering of souls hulking and muddied, large enough.
(If there is a purpose), to carry the accumulated joy of centuries,
Walking within each other's particular knowing and delight.
This is our grace, to be a note,
in the exact core that animates creation.
An ocean of mind, moving, forward and back, forward and back,
outside of an emotion contained within it.
This is particle and wave, how simple,
the merest conversation between us, becoming the essential drone,
into which we, gladly disappear, a common music,
A singular heavy tread(?), ceaselessly carving a path,
for the waters tumbling invisibly, beneath.
I have always wanted to be with them, with you, so...