By its endless ending that makes of death a suicide, new beginning is signified of an eternal recurrence of renewal; coming Spring the going...
Infinitely delayed, with no chance of a departure yet, just stuck here forever, without a reprieve, no leaving and no hoping of it; spiked s...
A rustling high above is come, heard faint is this hurricane of days, storm-dancing trees swaying their slender canopies, in a syncopated vi...
Sparks in the dark ignite; to go to make an offering of light between the possibility and the final performance of the action a hesitation r...
Close down eyelid of consciousness. Substitute; cruel remove the cobalt blue from out the crystal skies of hope; replace the Sun of Faith by...
Semaphore of their coming dance of leaves, buds are spiking on twigs to announce an early Spring. In their green whispers of such birth, the...
A shame and a sorrow and a bereavement of days; Desperate stutter for some consciousness to come: Birth-Daze.
Every one who reads this Blog has an interest in improving their physical and psychic abilities, or else why would they be reading this Blog...
O to give me just one single candle-light of hope. I'm just a visitor here, am but a temporary transient; soon I will be leaving this pl...
Visibility denied, a fading away from line of sight gliding down a desert Highway in a blue electric light. There's a better travellin...
WAY OF THE SEVEN STARS
Response To That Final Question:
Ignorance is the Bane of Man.
At a distance removed,
Dimly remembered, and
Still not seen distinct,
But yet somehow felt;
What we do sense
Is not reality; is not the Real Thing.
This World is hologram.
Then; for lucid sleep;
For it's just a dream
Within another dream
And we are not awake.
Seven Stars' Song of Revelation
Ignorance is a jail where no escape
Is possible but through knowledge.
Don't fear nor spurn. Dare to learn:
Assent to and accept this world as it is
Before attempting ascent to any world
Aspired to or wished for. Life's glorious!
That That Is can be known but by few.
Not space, not time, not gravity exists;
But as Extension from Field of Thought.
Be subject to neither church nor crown.
Dread naught. Disdain none: Not One!
Absent That That Is, there's Nothing.
That That Is, IS. That That's Not, IS, too.
That That's Not makes That That Is: IS.
Be subject to neither church nor crown.
Dread naught. Disdain none: Not One!
Absent That That Is, there's Nothing.
That That Is, IS. That That's Not, IS, too.
That That's Not makes That That Is: IS.
That That Is makes That That's Not BE.
By rowing to That That Is, I become "I."
Wind + Water = Wave. As THOUGHT is
Wind + Water = Wave. As THOUGHT is
The Heart and The Nave of The Wheel.
Worlds are created from Thought alone.
That which we will do is because of that
What we are. We'll become who we are.
Charity, courtesy, civility, compassion,
Are cardinal spokes making civilization;
Chivalry forms center, hub's circle core.
IS is! Be not the slave of some other's I.
This, Creed of our Seven Stars Society;
This, The Teaching of the Seven Stars:
No man can be happy if he should choose
To be exile from his own nature and soul.
ALL IS THOUGHT ILLUMINATING BEING
HEART-HEALING THE CHARIOT WAY
Precognitive Prescient Prophetic Poetry by WILLIAM O'CONNOR
Sunday, July 16, 2017
Smiling faces, smiling faces, lost in time are gone, forgotten, not recognizable now. Just smiling faces. They must have meant something once. But now just reside in photographs; looking up at me. Smiling.
Monday, June 5, 2017
Light in late afternoon is bent to yellow;
To a lamp-vent liquid shallow shadow,
That then first turns to orange hue
To splash the black on rooftops
Of the City to dark blue.
Under traveling gaze of setting Sun,
Prints of fire escapes shift upon
Redbrick faces of buildings,
Climbing there in crawling browns.
And then night wind and this cool quiet
That it brings; sitting there on folding chairs,
In those lofty refuges of the high rises;
Roofs: The tar beaches of the City.
To a lamp-vent liquid shallow shadow,
That then first turns to orange hue
To splash the black on rooftops
Of the City to dark blue.
Under traveling gaze of setting Sun,
Prints of fire escapes shift upon
Redbrick faces of buildings,
Climbing there in crawling browns.
And then night wind and this cool quiet
That it brings; sitting there on folding chairs,
In those lofty refuges of the high rises;
Roofs: The tar beaches of the City.
Friday, May 12, 2017
- Politics like people evolve. Although some state or some nation, seems permanent; seems fixed in the society of nations, it shall cease to be, shall dissolve, shall be forgotten; as yes will be we.
The universe is not just best described by mathematics; the universe is mathematics. Relations and equations are the rules for existence. Nothing can be without itself in other, nor be knowing other.
Spit in eyes of society. Poetry and Philosophy aren't but necessary for man's evolution; they caused our evolution. Fight on. March on. Carry on resistance to ignorance. Sole sin is the denying nature of reality.
Wednesday, May 10, 2017
Our obligation is to stand aside; not be partisan to the day and to the hour, since those follies shall soon pass and all will be forgotten. Our work, our future, has just begun, and can't be seen slave to our past.
Monday, May 8, 2017
This tired race shall never conquer the stars; shall never print its foot upon distant planets. That awaits a new, a more courageous Man; who seeks to pierce those far distances that bars us from our destinies
Monday, April 17, 2017
Someday soon and maybe it has already happened there will be a transformation, a new beginning, and everything we hoped for, everything prayed for, in the ancient prophecies shall be born and, yes, it has!
Saturday, April 15, 2017
It's not the hard numbers of science sustained us, gave us sustenance, a relief, and brief suspension of pain; it's the hope chest of belief: These myths, these mythologies, these faiths, that have kept us alive.
We're not dogs. We have no masters. We serve no gods. We obey no lord. We can teach our own selves and invent our own rules for life. We got no need for these states run by plutocrats. We rule ourselves.
Friday, April 7, 2017
We live for our revelations; for those sudden inspirations which will come to us when they come and our sole allegiance is to them, those insights, and not to any nation or to any state; but to our minds.
Saturday, April 1, 2017
To know The Not, to have the knowledge of nothing, is the beginning of wisdom. Just the start; just an inception into understanding. To educate in blankness, in whiteness, in hearing the beats of our hearts.
Wednesday, March 29, 2017
If you're lucky enough to be able to do anything new, original, unique, something only you can do; then, you're lucky enough. If you can do it well, the better; done good, done bad, don't matter. It's sufficient.
Tuesday, March 28, 2017
When you're a poet you become your own instrument; become the conductor of your own symphony of words, holding the baton of syntax, beating the time in measured verse, and few can match that power.
The function of creative people is to create: To produce. Not to be partisan in politics. We have our own crafts to pursue and our own paths. Smart thing to do is never right thing to do. We'll go our own ways.
Friday, March 24, 2017
There's a joy in beauty that's got nothing to do with truth, with right, with wrong or with anything else society and states may hold dear and might think or judge to be important. It just is. So. Good enough.
Wednesday, March 22, 2017
Each and all of us is a creator in our own right, a god by our creation not subservient nor a slave to any other; but obliged solely to be just who it is we are. Our quest where it takes us; is to seek our destiny.
Saturday, February 18, 2017
Holy is the day and sacred is the hour and never shall be returned. What we put off for fear, for sloth, pursue us in regret. The bold though their lives are shorter make statement and are remembered for it.
Tuesday, February 14, 2017
What then is it all about? Life. Love. Liberty. And. Then. Learning there's magic within the motion of our solitary existence every stone has voice and every cloud its very own rime in its rhythms of movement.
Monday, January 30, 2017
Sunday, January 15, 2017
Among men, there's a natural aristocracy. Few are born with a kiss for creativity; the gene to challenge an assumption that everyone takes for granted; which seems secure from dispute. Honor their courage.
Monday, January 9, 2017
Night screams call of owls seeking for prey, hidden vermin of the day. Here we're silenced, besieged by uncertainty. Should we expose who and what we've become; now we know we arrived from tomorrow.
Tuesday, November 29, 2016
The legs go first as every boxer knows. He who skips his roadwork is only kidding himself. To pound the pavement every day is the only way to do it; hitting daily on those trails, and so it is too for every skill and art.
Speak to me not of the sanctity of labour. The grind of toil weakens when not done for some purpose of the spirit but solely remuneration of the purse; what we do for work shapes who we are and would be.
Tuesday, November 22, 2016
Days of delight when innocence had ruled are over. The blood of teeth and claw is sovereign alone. Ignorance is blister and sore that infects our world. Princes of this nation brought the plague of war.
Tuesday, November 8, 2016
Take no side in wars between dogs and cats. Battles between the slaves of faiths, between the disciples of beliefs, between the servants of rituals; have nothing to do with us, for they're waged by lesser men.
Get angry. No god shall vet for you a paradise. Listen to the deity in your head. Society will shackle you in chains; will imprison you in its conformity. Those iron links can be broken, burst apart in a cold rage.
Friday, October 28, 2016
Poetry is omission; those spaces that make for splits and jumps empty in every line mirror the arcane symbols of the maths underlying truth. It's what not's there which makes what's there real, enduring.
Tuesday, October 25, 2016
The skies judge us all with its grays, its blues, its violets and with its sometimes reds, crimson salmons of our existence; pollutions of our lives which make for such glorious sunsets: Purity is often overrated.
Thursday, October 20, 2016
Brave speech bravely spoken is what poetry is all about; words in such a rhythm they cause a sunshine squint in eyes of listeners, cause earache of verse to burrow brain; dug before they'll know of invasion.
Tuesday, October 18, 2016
Scolds of the day can be carried with an ease, with an easy slight shrug in recognition, in pausing to consider critics lead metered lives ticketed for mediocrity; parked frozen lines in zombie formations.
Cold blue steel sky of unchanging weather. No clouds. Just this big blind cataract sun glaring down on our city. Doesn't see us at all. Doesn't care for us at all. Doesn't know we're here. One-eyed blind stare.
Saturday, October 15, 2016
In that same worrisome way, we always have; thinking of the troubles to come on the morrow, with all that anxiety, with all that foreboding fear; still, still, we had our yesterdays, and I have your smile still.
Everything looks easy, viewed from prejudices of the present; how could such actions happen, such belief followed resulting in a tragedy of war: How then shall our own faith be judged by the future?
Friday, October 14, 2016
The suitcase we carry with us containing clothes of our past weighs to stoop shoulders, to bow the spine, to make every step into the future, the sliding drag of the infirmed and old. Leave it behind.
Sunday, October 9, 2016
The clay pot of skull that holds the mind is soon shattered in the competitions of politics. These sad politicians seeking salvation by an acquisition of power over others; if taken seriously, break brains.
Saturday, October 8, 2016
All grows dim in a winter twilight. A slate-black glow from sinking Sun is serving to illuminate deserted walks emptied by dusk; street-lamps igniting to sulphur fires giving to asphalt pavements a violet hue.
Wednesday, October 5, 2016
Pewter waves rolling into shore spliced by white plumes of spray, singeing the air with the smell of salt. A fine October day, clean, crisp and with the tang-snap of cold to come; it will prove to be a long Winter.
Tuesday, October 4, 2016
Serrated city, cut with violence, Chicago sits in fear of tomorrow, of what comes silent stalking on the morrow. Winds push, lean against thin buildings; to prison those who peer out upon crackling clouds.
Sunday, October 2, 2016
Aluminum skies merge with seas in gray-blue annealing light this dawn; neither sky nor sea distinct, mist rolling forwards in white waves, obscuring everything; even the Sun seems dimmed, diminished.
Saturday, October 1, 2016
The great brave words that so thrill the soul and activate the spirit are scare spoken now; instead, one gets gibes from petty politicians who desecrate the past to make a mockery of the nobility of the dead.
Tuesday, September 27, 2016
Leaning there, the keel and the spine of you leaning always close and against the wind; not yielding, not swaying; just staying on course, to what, to where, who knows, who cares. It's the sailing that matters.
Thursday, September 22, 2016
Running river and wild woods grant far more solace and far greater salvation to any spirit to any psyche than do all philosophy and all religion. Protect them. Savor them. They're your real faith for deliverance.
Wednesday, September 21, 2016
I've declared an armistice with myself, a temporary cease-fire, and in this truce and in that pause, I hope to find myself; wounded yes but still alive, still able to carry forward, into what, I do not know.
Friday, September 16, 2016
My country is me not some state outside of me. I swear allegiance to no party, no cause, no country; but my own creation. My nation is myself and I carry my nation in my own mind and in my own heart.
We bend to follow the Moon and not towards the Sun as do all of those drone heliotropic plants. We are the moon's flowers, not the sun's flowers and we are walkers of the nights. We're shadows among you.
Tuesday, September 13, 2016
Salvation comes from creation. We all have got deities in our heads and they should be listened to, and should be argued with; as best criticism comes from inside oneself and every voice we hear is different.
Full moon tonight and the nightwalkers are out in streets filled with amber glow of streetlamps rivaling moon's own gold glow in casting double shadows on the pavements, in shades of turquoise and violets.
Thursday, September 8, 2016
Dumb all the way inarticulate of expression that you really wanted to say, you're unable to say; for your nation made you tongue-tied. Rage within you is a great rage, and it shall be expressed by a revolution.
Thursday, September 1, 2016
If you want to challenge authority or you wish to change the world, you better learn to sleep with your boots on. They're coming for you and they won't be giving you advance warning. So: Be a light sleeper.
Sunday, August 28, 2016
Hardest occupation and only one of relevance to real work of life is remaining in existence. Society tries to kill who you are. Culture tries to kill who you are. School tries to kill who you are. Stay in the fight.
Friday, August 26, 2016
The common vitriol and vituperation of American election leaves one wanting for another country that proclaims with sanity of wit rather than with curses of politicians shouting ever more vindictiveness.
Thursday, August 18, 2016
Clever is as clever does. Though men may try to hide what they are their acts will betray them. Listen to deeds; not to words. Most shall speak of an ability they lack to magnify their pasts. Watch what they do.
Wednesday, August 17, 2016
Once you realize you were wrong about it all; that it wasn't that way at all; that what you though had happened, had never taken place; then what you do is sit, and to think: Well that's all over with now.
Tuesday, August 16, 2016
Slave to other are we when we can't fend for our self or think for our self. Skill needed to know how to support oneself and family, knowledge needed for how world works, are both same needs for free men.
Monday, August 15, 2016
Politicians are performance artists. Some have better material than others. Some are better performers than others. And some have better material and are better performers too. They who got both vote for!
Sunday, August 7, 2016
Nations come and go and states come and go and faiths and governments come and go. So. Then. What is really important in all of an ever changing impermanence? Knowledge that you shall come and go too.
Saturday, August 6, 2016
Old adage of "police your brass" applies to life. We leave behind shells of ourselves; a detritus of existence. Some few we hope will be remembered and respected. But the rest are best forgotten.
To do anything well you need to know a lot about everything; how everything hangs in relationship to everything else and is connected to everything. It's the relationships that make the work and the life.
Thursday, August 4, 2016
Move your mind outside of yourself and into the far distance so that you can look upon yourself; as you were; as you are; as you will be. What do you see? Do you change in Time or do you still stay the same?
All you need for life is a guitar and a rifle. To create your art and to protect your creation. Rest is extra. You may want for them; you may be attached to them; you may pine for them but you don't need them.
Myths of men make men and myths of states make states. Beliefs cause action and action cause myth and myths causes states to be born. There is war between truth and myth and the myth always wins.
Thursday, July 28, 2016
We all of us know what's smart thing to do. But what is right thing to do? We might be wearing civilian clothes, but underneath that there's a uniform and whatever colors that has, you must still be true to it.
Wednesday, July 27, 2016
Fence of masters is predicated on softest, lightest, touch to blade; small defection in parry and then that fast thrust home. In politic of rhetoric, in wit of repartee, the slice across breast exposes heart.
Tuesday, July 26, 2016
There be dumb crooks. There be smart crooks. Dumb crooks are in jail because they're caught braking laws. Smart crooks are politicians in Congress because they create laws. Genius crooks are presidents.
Monday, July 25, 2016
They who created you and they who you created are always worth fighting for, as well as all your other creations. All else is to be considered: Whether it has aspects of holiness of sacredness; and little does.
Saturday, July 23, 2016
Friday, July 22, 2016
To err on the side of love is no error at all. Fools we are for we were made for it. Too much of reason hinders inclination. We lean to the side of passion. This leaning has made us survivors for our future.
Best wine to go with any food is clever people saying clever things in clever ways; together sitting at the same round table, with none at the head and none at the foot, and all conversing in Feast of Wit.
Beware professorial pundits and devious politicians who claim to talk for you; who claim to be the Voice of the People: that they're speaking upon your behalf, but shout just for themselves. I'm my own Voice.
Thursday, July 21, 2016
We are who we are because we can speak to ourselves about who we are. Words come first. Then we shape ourselves to resemble our words. The more noble are our words, the better we'll become to be.
Saturday, July 16, 2016
A lot in little is the task for all poetry. I come from the era of trench-coat and fedora and the long-slide fortyfive of film noir. What's said in black and white in subtle foreshadowing is what sticks in the Mind.
Friday, July 15, 2016
There is a darkness here in this seditious city, a hiding away in shadow from suspicious light of inquiry. Fear and the hatred that always accompanies it, is breeding in its corners and soon shall jump out at us.
Wednesday, July 13, 2016
Faux generation which imitates and simulates the real thing has ascended and succeeded us. They lack in everything our authentic fire but merely emulate and camouflage to cover over what is gone before.
Sunday, July 10, 2016
Issue is not why others believe as they do. It's why it is they think how they do and why it is they act as they do. How they act is rooted in how they think. How they think is rooted in mutable law of evolution.
There's no glory in it. No honor. War is blood, shit, piss, nothing else. There's no reason to it, no logic and kills the bravest to let cowards rule in congress and in presidencies as prime ministers of nations.
As in fighting, in philosophy, always take the flanking paths. Feint and indirection gives solution. Not "What is Being" but "Describe Nothingness." Not "What can we Know" but "How could we not Learn."
Saturday, July 9, 2016
Best are slow learners. What comes easy to you, goes away, just as easy to you. Long life is necessary for knowledge. Everything you thought true in youth; know, in your age, proves false in contemplation.
Blood and whiskey go to forge steel of will when tempered with restraint from violence. Hardness in an action works when pausing to consider. Nothing is done absent a deep foundation discipline of thought.
Friday, July 8, 2016
Trite and tired are formula expression of adherence to state and faith contained in posts of professional pundits, pronounced each and every day to addicts of media; for they know not what it is they speak of.
Wednesday, July 6, 2016
Push far away the plate of patriotism. Remove it from the table of beliefs. This is no nation of poets and philosophers; but one of plutocrats and politicians and they that slave for them. I'll not eat of that dish.
Tuesday, July 5, 2016
That which we are shall eventually come to be, provided we survive long enough to achieve our destiny. Nothing else matters. Not faith. Not state. Not our society. What matters is to achieve what it is we are.
Friday, July 1, 2016
Blue hour, space between sinking of Sun and rising of Moon, gives a respite; gives a pause between cares of the day and realities of future. Though we may die; though we may cease to exist, our task is to pursue our living: To "Remember Me!"
Never able to master it; palimpsest for visions, may deny uou, may instruct you to change; yet, what you write, what you say, what you choose to do in life is holier than scripture: Write your own Bible!
Saturday, June 25, 2016
Voice in the head and fear in the throat, words are dictated to oneself by oneself. If the words are true, they bear seed in verse to flower into poetry. If the words are false, they'll fall into prose, a meaner art.
We have become a people of a difference. Split among our species has occurred; both an evolution and devolution. Half of mankind belongs to the past. Half belongs to the future. A few belong to the present.
Wednesday, June 22, 2016
Amoeba eating away at the Will of America is avarice; is the fat slug of grub for greed, is the tapeworm of ambition for possession that diminishes; that starves venturing further for ever farther far frontiers.
Tuesday, June 21, 2016
Significance is everything. Though what we do appears without purpose, seems absent of any reason or logic; what is in us gradually will advance to the fore; then revelation happens: We become who we are.
Lust and greed, avarice of desire, drive politics. Candidates talk of change while citizens sleep unaware. Sole arguments among parties engaged in politics are only between which castes shall control peoples.
Monday, June 20, 2016
Strawberry moon, berry red, shining in a short night of a summer solstice, colors the sea, smears it in blood; as slow cascades of silent black waves slash upon the white shores, sounding a warning crash.
Sunday, June 19, 2016
It burns you. It consumes you. Visions of books you still have to write. The songs. The poems. Those paintings there still there hiding in the head. Growing larger. Crowding together, pushing to be born.
Purpose of poetry is: bend Time; fold it to sustain chords from Past into far Future. Like Sophocles and Shakespeare, if what we do as poets has a relevance to generations to come; then life was not wasted.
Friday, June 17, 2016
In a strange place in a strange time, with pale light of a gold moon, shining in slivers of silver, chaining night to sleep; locking in far distant suns of vision; tangling in ropes of doubts: What are we but dream?
Deserted woods, silent from calls of birds, is: Land of Death. Nothing moves here. Nothing stirs here. Deserts of desiccation; dry trees drooped by dried branches. We started as Hamlet; ended up as Lear.
Light-stepping man, gravity of care eludes you now. It will all change and burden of responsibility shall weigh you down. You'll see your father in your mirror when you shave. You've become your own ghost.
Our education is an erasure of everything that can set us free. Taught to have faith in a State that never cared for us, except as vessels for exploitation to use to serve its needs; as we've forgotten of our own.
Thursday, June 16, 2016
Scales upon eyes are cataracts of faiths blinding depriving vision. What seems obvious to believers, to zealots, appears distorted to observers; to outsiders, to outcasts from religion. Step back. See. Ponder.
Tuesday, June 14, 2016
The cavity of doubt is implanted is abscessed by any ideology promising a truth not proved by reason. Non-verified faith eats away at enamel of logic; crumbles it, destroys it, till all that's left of life is fear.
Monday, June 13, 2016
Revelation spawns civilization. It gives birth to progress. That which has been made known to ourselves by ourselves; that which was hidden from ourselves by strictures of societies is what makes the future.
Friday, June 10, 2016
To the dead we owe our deliverance; to those who have gone before us, bearing the pains of existence, enduring it without complaint as to how unfair it is. They did it for us, our ancestors and our forebears.
Wednesday, June 8, 2016
Spell tomorrow in the magic of yesterday. The relay race of civilization is run by giving the baton to our successors in handing it over. Our day is done and they shall carry it forwards. What was will always be.
Tuesday, June 7, 2016
Groan for the City of the Night in its devastation given over to dark-walkers, needing no Moon to see by, in their silent trudging, stepping in deftness, not knowing each other; guided by thin light from phones.
Monday, June 6, 2016
Sculpture your verse to make it be electric in memory. Poetry should look good as well as sound good. More senses it elicits, the more powerful it is. Words smell and taste; move and dance. Meaning is last.
To have validity; to have good logic in opinion, facts must be sought, must be known; must be stated in format promoting fostering perception. Obscure is absent meaning; so state always in common tongue.
Word makes Flesh; but beneath both word and flesh is the very same number and beneath that number is this Void from which it springs to make both word and flesh. Beneath Void is Nothingness: No-Thing.
Saturday, June 4, 2016
We're all of us born too soon and way before our time. If only we had been born later; then, maybe, just maybe, we would perhaps have been recognized; maybe lauded for what we truly were. But. Maybe not.
Friday, June 3, 2016
There are prime people. There are sub-prime people. There are they who can and do; have good credit, so are creative. There are they who said they could and would; have bad credit, are not. Which are you?
Tuesday, May 31, 2016
Demon at the heart of faith is a hard diamond of avarice, a core of greed at the center in the capitalism of religion: They who demand submission to sacred texts of imaginary gods; make of believers, slaves.
Saturday, May 28, 2016
Reality is a cake of many layers with thin frosting of words covering over numbers beneath, followed by layer of energy; all of it resting upon thick stratum of nothingness, on a plate of the great void beneath.
Tuesday, May 24, 2016
Poor is public education as best preparation for marathon of long life. School is always intended to tutor its training for short sprints; to hurdle fast pupils' life for state and for faith, never for the long running.
The bent and flexion of our experience; from what little we know drawn from what we've done against that all which we are ignorant of because we have left it undone, let's loose the arrow of our ambition.
Friday, May 20, 2016
Whoever possess the weapons who're trained, who are skilled in their usages, are they who will decide fates of states; not politicians; not professors; not pundits of law; certainly not the poets; but warriors.
Friday, May 13, 2016
Everything to be learnt is learned in spite of school; in saying of a "NO" to teachings of the professors, teachers of accepted knowledge. Only they who create who show it by their work should be listened to.
Thursday, May 12, 2016
Never let your philosophy restrain and hamper your humanity. What feels right is right. Conventions of State and commandments of Faith serve only as guides. In the end; sole judge of You is You, Yourself!
Monday, May 9, 2016
Bitterest slavery lies fettered in chains of ideology, delusions and deceptions we sought to impose on ourselves. When Jesus looked down into his cup whose face he beheld was that of Judas looking back.
Friday, May 6, 2016
Lies still said in nostalgia for a past when government was considered great and good, forget the wars, the conflicts, the incursions, in foreign nations, in other states; done for the fortune of a plutocrat few.
Wednesday, May 4, 2016
Best always to steer one's own Way wherever it leads and whatever its final harbor and port. Even if it leads one astray and it strands one adrift; at least, the navigator and the captain of your ship was you.
Tuesday, May 3, 2016
An empire claimed by a plutocrat elite controls the World, seducing the minds of Men into a common servitude, keeping them occupied with the vanity of Internet, vacant web of promises and false hope.
Monday, May 2, 2016
Rank abuses politicians fire at each other in daily duels of vitriol wound the public; leaving these hacks of bureaucracy unharmed, intact; as thick vests of ignorance they wear prevent any penetration by fact.
Thursday, April 28, 2016
Only memories remain when dying to the World in the slow remembrance of the still alive; some small gesture by a child is very one, once made by some ancestor long dead now: That same move repeated.
Tuesday, April 26, 2016
World we see is what we are not what is. Avarice for acquisition stems from paranoia of existence come from fear of knowing; from being deaf to listening and hearing music in the tempo of the flow of things.
Monday, April 25, 2016
Monkey chattering in the Mind in constant argument against the Self is slowed down, is silenced, is stilled to allow Voice of within of without to become louder, to become clearer; to call itself: Poetry.
Sunday, April 17, 2016
Their name is government, these free grazers of humanity. They batten fat on results sown by others' toils; become obese in indolence. Them self they do nothing and make sure no other can do anything.
A porcelain people, easily smashed, must be handled with utmost care. It's what every politician does. Caress them with prejudice. Handle them with patriotism. Never drop them onto a hard floor of Truth.
Poetry's purpose is to scribe the present so as to protect the future. What seems antique in the past is reflected in the present; is always mirrored in the future. Nothing can be forgiven in the genes of men.
Culls caused by religions will murder billions. All them not of the tribes' faiths shall be condemned to slaughter. There be many many faiths. Religions' true purpose is: To make way to birth the New Man.
Saturday, April 16, 2016
These lords of finance these bankers and these brokers who bring so much ruin on our world smile with a smirking smile concealing canine teeth are ready yet again to send more men to wage rapacious war.
Thursday, April 14, 2016
That mortar shell, which exploded to inflate our universe with its shrapnel of matter, made us too. It was fired from the hostile Nation of Nothingness that claims us prisoner when we die: We're at war!
Sunday, April 10, 2016
What seems least forced makes for a better art. Effort, when concealed, confers an attitude of ease; of freedom from restraint in rules of form; of liberty from laws of rectitude in statements and expression.
Saturday, April 9, 2016
The world has been undone by loss of memory of its past. Each generation repeats the same mistakes. Each generation suffers from the same amnesia. Again. Again. Again. Always. Same history repeated.
Friday, April 8, 2016
Reality desires always to be questioned. Existence strolls through avenues of inquiry and walks streets of doubt to find itself again. Each question makes its own answer. For reality to reveal itself, doubt it is.
To live as we do now in a state of ignorance is to abjure the One that is the Self. That which we are and that which we should be, ought not be separate; should be congruent, the same, not alien to each other.
Tuesday, April 5, 2016
Never to be at peace with Death; always to fight oblivion: That's our struggle! Once life ceases; comes a blackness, coma of nothingness, so do opportunity for creativity. Nothing follows. Just our work in Life!
Sunday, April 3, 2016
They had faces then and voices too in them days. Not the grimaces and screeches one sees nowadays. Something has been lost in translation, in the transition from past to present; some higher standard.
So that it could then be created: Each universe evolves its own unique deity. Ours is Energy. What we think we see and know is flux and foam and form of power; the power of both adhesion and repulsion.
Saturday, April 2, 2016
So now here we are again in same old place we thought we left so long ago. Funny how it turned out. Nothing changed but us. Thought we're going somewhere. Turned out we're merely running in place.
None of it is real. It's all a fantasy whatever it was we were brought up to believe, to honor, to respect, youthful truths that seemed so obvious then; now seeming fraudulent and frivolous, but we miss them.
A lot was lost in translation. It was always made up and created by men; but had some sustenance to it, some real solace in attempt to justify, to explain, to ameliorate, travesties of life and now: It's all gone.
Friday, April 1, 2016
Bleak lights begin to shine in parks of the City now dusk has begun. But the paths are empty. They glow pale gold in lamps lit by twilight. People are afraid to come. They are afraid. Of what, they do not know.
Perhaps you really do have something profound to say; something of portent, of revelation, a prediction of future event; but microphone goes dead, web site closed down; so, whatever it was, it is lost forever.
Reason and Logic both fuse together to form a barrier to understanding Death. We die and we die for no purpose despite vain efforts of politicians of priests and philosophers to give some meaning to our lives.
Wednesday, March 30, 2016
For politicians for these priests of perfidy who seduce states their anthem and chief theme is complaint, a blaming of their predecessors in office; that same office they'll be condemned for by their successors.
Tuesday, March 29, 2016
The paper gods of scriptures are consumed by flame to be scattered by wind of new revelation; only ash still remains of deities of Torah, of Koran, of Testament now all consigned to fire from which they came.
Monday, March 21, 2016
Needed are fantasies written in many myths of man. They hold within themselves far higher truth than do mere dry fact science answers to. They donate to life journey and destination no reality can provide.
Saturday, March 19, 2016
Alibi your living with religion. Explain it all away with faith. Seek your origin and your destiny in Cult of Art; your logic for survival in Ritual of Science, in Rubric of Philosophy; in all the many mythologies, all made by men.
Monday, March 7, 2016
Sputtering lights of neon signs speak to walkers of the night: You! You aren't welcome here. Keep on moving on. Move on past the snarling streets, move on past violent avenues, move on past the city's intersections of rage. Move on! Stop. To finally pause at last on the muddy banks at the fast flowing dark river.
Sunday, February 21, 2016
Desperately for you I'm for you desperately, as there's exclusion, separation, a warehousing of anyone outsider; into a village of dissidents, of all they who disagree. We need each other more than ever now.
Saturday, February 20, 2016
As the music throbs, the drum beats, mirroring the heart in systolic response; here here here, now now now. Didn't you know me, didn't you see me, didn't you hear me? I'm among you always am not silent!
Passed on, same fallacy exists generation after generation; that simple statement there's some purpose to it all, some meaning; when after all, it's only in the living, in the doing, that holds an assertion of life.
A flanking light, giving a blue shadow from the side, gives to this speaker a sinister look as he speaks of torture, of deportation, of banning all they different from ourselves; for that, he is given great applause.
Vulgar Time, in folly of days, in chatter of conformity, in stammer of complacence, in conversations of cliches; beat us down through concussion of prejudice by they who can't see significance in the World.
Friday, February 19, 2016
Bright impinging light of inspiration shines once again upon my head, directing me: Doubt everything; doubt nation; doubt religion; doubt philosophy; doubt spouse and family; but never doubt your genius.
Wednesday, February 17, 2016
What I miss most is the intelligence, the sharp smartness of it, which always seems now to be lacking. Crudeness turns one away to avert one's eyes; to ignore what's happening as Death takes them away.
Monday, February 15, 2016
Doubt is that which creates its own existence; for what questions itself builds itself. If I doubt I am, in denying my existence, I acknowledge me. When I doubt I am changed; made real by doubting myself.
Sunday, February 14, 2016
Cleanness of cold cracks the mirror of perception. Whatever was thought as true before in summer's heat seems fallacious, seems false, in close huddle of winter chill snapping at bones of complacence.
Wednesday, February 10, 2016
Preaching to a future congregation on the temptation of the present has for them no relevance. They'll have sufficient tribulations to contemplate. What worries us won't worry them. They'll have their own.
Monday, February 8, 2016
Occupations and professions, all the ways of working, can serve to hide the ways of living. What we do to survive by seeking remuneration performing services may well help our societies but rarely helps us.
Sunday, February 7, 2016
It didn't start with you. And it sure doesn't end with you. It goes on and on and on, indifferent. Maybe you'll be there; maybe you won't, to see it, but it will go on anyway. That's all you can ever be sure of.
Harder to know and still harder more to be able to understand; why is the world the way it is, and how did it get that way? Don't make no sense at all. Really ought be different; but then, I guess so should I.
The times they were real mean then and they're even meaner now. They sure ain't getting any better now you're travelling all alone. Just got to keep on moving on and keep ahead of greater misfortune.
Whenever the State shall knock upon your door and will say with sly smile and disarming grin: "We are here to help and to assist you to make your life even more wonderful and free." Slam the door on them!
Bringing of the Self into Being, to give a birth to one's own soul, is constantly constrained and confined by government and by the state's schooling of society and of citizenry to force compliance for abortion.
Thursday, January 28, 2016
Love and kisses I'll miss you World. It's been a fun ride. Wish it had been longer. Should have taken few more detours sure but glad of them I took; many stoplights along the way, proud managed to run some.
As long as I can keep going I'll keep on going. I'm funny that way. Sure, no one cares and none shall remember; then, just occasionally someone recites something, a small thing, and I say: I wrote that.
Wednesday, January 27, 2016
They're all dying now, all the old rockers. Cocaine and cognac catches up with you in the end. But while they were alive, they burned with a pure blue light, and that's really all that matters with the sputtering of the flame.
That which I am and that which I would be can't be the same. If they were congruent or were identical, I could not be. I must be always divided from myself; for, in this division, in this difference, I survived.
The Now that seems to exist does so through multiple entangled timelines from the past. Whatever was makes whatever is. But what was isn't one single thread: Past is woven tapestry of many possibilities.
Sunday, January 24, 2016
That which is One's Self is the All. There is no separation, no division, no contention: I am because I am that and that who I am is me. Same whiteness covers us all like snow with the blanket of forgetfulness.
The barren Void, this place of pulsing power, seeks within itself expansion of Nothingness; seeks within itself a greater, a more profound Emptiness and by doing so balloons into being the birth of everything.
Wednesday, January 20, 2016
Belief in science is a faith like any other: That what had came before it makes in some way what comes after it is a religion. Why not future makes the present? Seems more fun this way with Time's reversal.
Saturday, January 16, 2016
Nothing in his life so honored him as was his manner of leaving it. Here was Art personified in a single body. Now to death is gone he had they say in everything a grace to lack the moderation of mediocrity.
Friday, January 15, 2016
That dark energy that drinks light stays the universe by its bands of forceful symmetry. The script of life is written in energy. Backwards and forwards Time seems the same sometimes pausing to make worlds.
Tuesday, January 12, 2016
True blue American; hope, that promised beautiful tomorrows and better futures was denied you once again. You've been betrayed. Mediocrity is now destiny for the nation; not the stars you once believed.
Desolation days bring a January mood in long month of Winter of sleet and snow; a hibernation of hope amid breaking branches from heavy wet weight in empty woods and no sound but Moon call of wolves.
Sunday, January 10, 2016
Cold stone walls slapping with a late night rain shouts a greater darkness descending in the dark, sliding a slither of black noise in drains of streets; making for a despondency; making for a denial.
Friday, January 8, 2016
As one believes so shall one behave and as one behaves so shall one believe. These are same, two sides of the coin of perception. What we buy in life is what we want in life and what we desire is what we are.
Wednesday, January 6, 2016
Subsuming oneself to anything at all, whether it's a state, a faith, a polity, a philosophy; is but slavery. One's real tribe is Man's future. One's faith lies in ensuring human future; though we die we live there.
Tuesday, January 5, 2016
All desire life but not at our expense. Rodents of this world, be they man or be they animal, take our sustenance; rob us of our birthright to be free; impose on us alien law and rule, and so we will rebel.
A plague of fear, a disease of conscience, has descended on us, blanketing our dreams, our aspirations; preventing us from going on, from advancing upon our journey. A traffic stop of doubt impedes us here.
No quarter! Fight is always again yourself, an opposition of shadow boxing. Slip, doge, deceive, faint and fool yourself; to get past the face of you your society and your school made. That mask ain't you.
Be a heretic! Everything ever learned was learned in spite of school; NEVER because of school. Everyone knows something you don't know but what you know is what you know. Live life! It's your best teacher.
Thursday, December 31, 2015
What makes us men is refusal. We are not pack animals. We follow our own conscience and we trust in it. We know better; far better than they who would force us to obey; we've said "no" we're brand apart.
Our bodies, our brains were designed for survival: to live and to let us thrive. Senses show but pauper's poor representation of reality; a hologram simulacrum. What exists is energy, not what's seen or heard.
Thursday, December 24, 2015
Desire is death. Any deity created by any people is real reflection on that true conscience of that people. Mean gods were made by mean peoples to deceive their depravities. Make then, for you: The Good God.
Thursday, December 17, 2015
To wrought radical transmutation, to make a fierce transformation, to birth a new beginning, is zealotry for change; stemming from driven obsession with creation, and for destruction of whatever was before.
Wednesday, December 16, 2015
You can ignore it. You can delay it. You can fight it. It's always there striving to be born. When you're old. When you're broke. When you've lost your loves to death; you can look back and say: I done that.
Wednesday, December 9, 2015
It's always been about making more beautiful questions; those riddles which have no answer. Solutions are easy. It's questions that are hard. Imperious laws are subverted by showing conundrums of Nature.
Monday, December 7, 2015
In its broader cello statement, there's a wiser prediction; there's an older acknowledgement, with each drawing of its bow: last century has seen such horror and the new century has start in this same strain.
Tuesday, December 1, 2015
Like cogs in a stop watch, the islands of worlds relate; universes are entangled. They'll stop and they'll start together vomiting new worlds; spewing new universes. Time goes backwards-forwards, in tempo.
Saturday, November 28, 2015
The Felt that is needed before the Logic can be revealed, can be explained, can be known; is the Spark. Emotion precedes Reason. Touch is the better cognition. We are our feelings; our thoughts come later.
Wednesday, November 25, 2015
Warming fusion of a false Spring, buds prick on twigs of trees in desire to leaf while awaiting a call from destiny to flower but it's November still as many months await yet hope of Shape fore Number, awakes.
Monday, November 16, 2015
Long highways, a helmet for my pillow and a poncho for my bed and stars are over head; just my rifle to hug and my dreams the only help to keep me warm, I'll be humping out tomorrow way before the dawn.
Monday, November 2, 2015
An entropy of color follows upon our deaths, a silent and still cooling down into a nothingness radiating in memory, spreading out, spearing out, in puddles of energy; then, a slow turning acceptance of black.
Saturday, October 24, 2015
So essential to our sanity are myths, are impossible religions, fantasies that give to life its meaning and purpose; that absent them, the length of days would be as bland, as boring, as lectures of the scientists.
Wednesday, October 21, 2015
There for you forever; a shrug of the shoulders and a silent surrender and there it is. It's nothing at all what you thought it would be. There it is still. There is nothing you can do about it. It's funny that way.
Saturday, October 17, 2015
Fettered to fate, Being and Time and Matter and Energy, form one single entity; they all form one unity. Thin slender lines bind them by loops of relativity, one is becoming another to remain in one continuity.
Thursday, October 15, 2015
Autumn brings an eloquent disorder, speaking in tongues of cognac and cocaine, stating its verbiage in colors of crimson and cyan; arguing summer's conclusion in calculated combination of sharp confusion.
Savor the day for there might not come another. The contamination of prejudiced opinion of the many causes more harm, more disease of the mind, more damage to health, than has did any plague before.
Wednesday, October 14, 2015
Walk among the green mansions of the woods, when trees are still in their brightest foliage of Fall, and still voice will whisper: This is the right country for me. This is the world in which I belong. Here. Now!
Sunday, October 11, 2015
On a cold-some night like this, with wet wind of rain reeking its damp in the rafters and little patters of drops splattering on an window pane, keep you from slumber; stay you far from the cotton fall of sleep.
Sunday, October 4, 2015
A little mad goes to genius great long way. Encumbered upon everyone is the need to make one's own religion, one's own philosophy, one's own mythology; so, to live uncensored in country of one's mind.
Wednesday, September 23, 2015
The work outlives its age only when prejudiced against the consensus of its time. All great work shall cause an agitation; a hesitation in what was considered then to be the common sense of the majority.
Tuesday, September 8, 2015
Summer dusk is almost done, still bronze, still hot and in the sky reside thin strings of clouds and a pale moon and a dust of tiny distant stars on a warm September night; keep your shades up for such a sight.
Monday, September 7, 2015
A silence descends upon it, a drawn curtain has dropped down covering the stage. Now that the drama is ended, act finished, it's time to move on, to let others perform; and hope to find a better part to play.
The objective has always been the same: To lead a holy life, whatever that might mean to you; to listen to the divine which resides in your skull and to direct your every action towards making that Voice real.
It was a better time, it was a better country, it was a better people and even the gangsters were better dressed. The rubric of delight was written in more simple, in more common things; a smile was enough.
Saturday, September 5, 2015
Pornographers posing as patriots are these politicians demanding your sacrifice. They who would make you bend the knee to flags, cut the soul inside, devour and spit it out; cannibals of feelings of the heart.
Standing straight in separate narrow rows, the green formation of poplars athwart a road spill purple shaded silhouettes; shadows thrown from a tired sun in late afternoon, when heat has turned to hue.
Friday, September 4, 2015
For others we'll leave the greater questions. The clock of time has wound down for us. The pages of the calendar of life are flipped over, are folded, are smudged creased and marked; mourning for yesterdays.
Thursday, September 3, 2015
Give to each syllable tone and hue as statement for emotion. Give to each line equation for a symmetry. Give to each stanza a coherence for an argument. Give to it all a rhythm and a rhetoric. Result is Poetry.
Wednesday, September 2, 2015
The darkened blinds, pulled down in a paralysis, that hide the dead window behind, smooth and flat, look on nothing but another tenement window across an air shaft; equally as blind, equally as black.
Tuesday, September 1, 2015
Graveyards of veterans throughout the world stand silent, abandoned, by visitation, to serve as sermon in stone to waste of war. That cause and that duty that cursed to confine them here were coffin to folly.
Sunday, August 30, 2015
Reaching for the moon but capturing the stars is no small accomplishment. Often desire is detoured onto a higher way; to a more noble road. Absent initial aspiration, nothing can be done or achieved.
Wrong-way driver up a one way street, spin your wheel and turn around. Step on the gas. Get out of here. Life is a canvass of signs and sounds, none of which give meaning or direction; just a warning.
Saturday, August 29, 2015
The pen is fire in the hand and makes a cursive blaze, kindled by desire, flared into emotion. Statement and protest against the darkness of ignorance; lighted in night, shouting: Here I am. Here I shall stand!
Tuesday, August 25, 2015
Flesh of the blade, we all soldiers are, in our realization, in our acceptance, that there is no away from this, no escape; we are here and now and to danger we are exposed just by our presence in this world.
Monday, August 24, 2015
No politician ever lost any election by under estimating the intelligence of the people. The horror that was can come again. A benevolent despot is still a despot. No compassion can reside within a slavery.
Sunday, August 23, 2015
A dour faith that has no smile in it is no religion at all. It is a simulacrum of belief, a painted statuette of truth and not the real thing at all. These somber men all dressed in black know nothing of the joy of life.
Taken in exception, in the unexpected, from the shadow of thought to the light of conviction; revelation occurs: This now is it. It's what it's all about. Everything that went before was but prequel to this story.
Sunday, August 16, 2015
For reason to persuade, it must be clothed in a multi-colored mood habit of emotion. Nude logic moves none. The poignancy expressed in a penetrating accuracy of argumentation ought to both wound and to heal in a final agreement; in a resolution of a salve of harmony.
Saturday, August 15, 2015
To be religious, avoid churches and temples. To be learned, avoid schools and universities. To be courageous, avoid armies and navies. Churches, temples, schools, universities, armies, navies; none has the fires of creation. Each serves the state and no state is ever You.
Sunday, August 9, 2015
A radiance bleeding into air, a blending of light there, suffused in crimson and azure, bent into a relativity, moves on, slows to an acceptance of gravity pushed by hidden dimensions; then, an acceptance of heaviness, of mass; then: miracle, a universe is born.
Monday, August 3, 2015
Provocations and palpitations that stop the heart in presence of beauty arrest daily blindness in writing the diary of temporality. We are enclosed within the book of boring schedule of need, of work. Awe is a stepping aside, a pause; followed by a shrug then a turning back.
Saturday, August 1, 2015
Being is that which frees the becoming of things from the stasis of the prison of nothingness into existence. Being is not what is; but instead, Being is that which is causing what is; the chosen habit of creation. Nothingness is natural. Nothingness gives birth to Being.
Thursday, July 23, 2015
Patriotism is mad parasite of propaganda making for farness from the family of Man. To make farness vanish, the body must become text for the brain, not a separation from society, not slave to a State; absorbed, eaten and subsumed into it: but subject to no nation.
Saturday, July 18, 2015
Written as signature upon the world is compassion and to stand bereft of any empathy is to distance oneself from the literature of love. When broken, the teacup of time can't be repaired or replaced; its remnant remains as is, unable to hold the cup of life to go on, forever.
Necessity constitutes the essence and the core of existence. All that is certain is chance and change. The beats of Time are not slurred; are separate and distinct but are so close so short, they seem continuous of a single flow: Existence comes to Being from Nothingness.
Thursday, July 16, 2015
Religion, art and science are simply different instruments performing in the same symphony and, at certain intervals in performance, one or another is given more prominence, is given a solo; but then the whole orchestra responds, so that the composition moves on.
Gray fogs slumber in the mists, echoes of damp clouds, snoring, sleeping, in the dawn of science; that swamp of ignorance. The greater is the recognition of the absurdity of things, greater is the knowledge of real true natures of things. There is no logic here; just What Is.
Fear is the most necessary of emotions; the fear of the paradox of separation, brought to nought by fear I have become separated from myself. I am divided by the realization I could no longer recognize myself in the mirror of my soul: I am not that I thought myself to be.
Wednesday, July 15, 2015
Politicians are like dogs on leashes; they shall always look back to see where it is their owners, that is their donors and their sponsors, are directing them and telling them to go, as themselves have no will of their own: They are automatons; robots to the wants of others.
Monday, July 6, 2015
They would make us care, make us admire clowns of politicians that have no agenda but their own desire for fame, for wealth, for prominence in status; but none possess the most necessary attribute of statesmanship, recognizing fate as the destiny of nations.
Saturday, July 4, 2015
How countless are the states and the nations gone, all those ancient empires; that once, did encompass and circle the globe. Mean religion of patriotism gave purpose and design; faded flags, ripped rags, disintegrating, dissolving; not remembered nor respected.
Saturday, June 20, 2015
The true priests of our age are its poet-philosophers and I'm blest to be among them. Revelation and reason form one single unity, not an opposition nor dichotomy. We're who we are because we are; need no justification, need no proof for us, as it's sufficient just To Be.
Only Being exists and Being is Number. Poetry is revelation and philosophy is reason and they both need to be mastered to know Being: Naming of a Thing is recognition of the Thing and the better is that naming, and the best is by poetry, the better can it be brought To Be.
Friday, June 19, 2015
Blue shadow shades of twilight falling into the rose-red of sun-down, dropping behind lavender hills across the turquoise river, lighting sky in brief serenade's honeyed tarrying; final slow splash of golden light before sleep to be born again in sudden tomorrow new dawn.
Monday, June 15, 2015
Mean and clean, rapture makes for a chain surround, makes for a slavery of love; forges a circle of obsession, composed of the captured links of attachment and of surrender, of a willed complicity in a loss of liberty. Hard times makes for a hard people and gives us a clarity.
Tuesday, June 2, 2015
That which is ineffable in words is knowable in the symbols and signs of the secret language of numbers, via detour taken into duration of change; then to ride back again in a round-about of translation to convert the numbers to words, for they are the very same in sense.
Like gods upon your head, equations are incantations, calling forth inspiration to follow the right paths of understanding, the ways of reason and of logic; which arms us to fight the darkness of ignorance, of superstition, of fear of exploration: for to know is to be free.
Friday, May 22, 2015
Opening flower of reality springs forth petals of dimensions. Men may train dogs, but women train men. It is not important to be good nor to be true, as that is merely manners. What is important is to be you.
Monday, May 18, 2015
The leaning gesture of the stem of the electric rose, encased in the vase of clear water, a green stick bent and stripped clean of sharper thorn; signals out its presence in red defiance of its death when plucked from slanted prism of slim glass: remember me as I once was.
Monday, May 11, 2015
Buds hidden in the hedgerow burst to bloom in May; stark flowering bright seen even in gray morning. Glorious is gaiety of Spring as far dispersion of pollen is an affirmation is yes to the dominance of life.
Tuesday, May 5, 2015
Whether or not you can think, if they believe you can think or even have capacity to think, they'll hate you, shall strive to destroy you, will seek you out to ridicule you; if failing in that will try to harm you.
Control a language and they who think in it are controlled too; what academies of education do; what accepted pundits of publishing do, when broadcasting propaganda. They who own the media own us.
Monday, May 4, 2015
Duty eats at the heart. None ought be respected who themselves had not undergone a tribulation with honor; few can do so. Most live lives of safety and know nothing of courage. Duty then is to one's Self.
Words are jewels, the precious gems for speaking, fractal mirrors of reality; each one is a hologram, a world within a word. Imminent in its pronunciation is universe coming into being, as word made flesh.
Sunday, May 3, 2015
Script of blood is in sky above. Talk the speech of gods to write poetry. Descent for inspiration comes from myriad sources, comes from thousands of deities; signs of revelation formed in particular brains.
The tithing taxes of pundits' harassment, of those scholars who an ignorant public respects and quotes, of those who criticized and demeaned opinions not in accord to narrow views; are burdens on humanity.
Saturday, May 2, 2015
They've no knowledge of long slow shallow tide exposing the hidden pilings of the psyche, of emotions flowing in and out about revealed, of ancient hatred old prejudice; the driving currents of every action.
Friday, May 1, 2015
The language of the universe is fixed for throws for a sentience, for cheating for the combo by whom it can be known; the dice of chance is loaded for consciousness, shaved for a preference for compassion.
The rust of social ritual of this world swallows everything and prevents the action necessary to survive. Slavery resulting by having to respect the opinions of others keeps us chained to their static moralities.
Thursday, April 30, 2015
The black lightning that courses through our brain like a cancer metathesizing forcing us to question and confront what everyone else says and professes keeps us healthy; learn, but doubt the learning.
Tuesday, April 28, 2015
Taunt of neon splash of color in puddled night's rain, golds and reds and blues smeared and stretched and rippled by wind into ribbons of quivering hues of satins made of water; of silks in moving silence.
Thunder of the heart, expression of emotion, is what makes us men, not machines. What can't show its soul upon its face is not alive and is faking an ersatz existence, one not worth the trouble of even being.
Ghosts at our own seances we hear others' voices floating in the air speaking of us and now we realized finally, but too late, they knew nothing of us; what they thought we were, we weren't nor wished to be.
Monday, April 27, 2015
To survive never to thrive, requires rejection of identity, hiding one's true name; as the naming of Self is seen as threat. Solution is assert oneself; be consumed or to make separate state in which to reside.
Sunday, April 26, 2015
The small deaths from struggles of every day and the dim confusions encountered in each waking life, are settled down in the night, in sleep, in slumber, in dream of better days and of better lives to come.
Saturday, April 25, 2015
Chrome sun shining, burnished in white yellow plating, seems to be smudged in the April sky, seems to be not real, seems to be a standin for how it might look in May, when a broad smile appears in heaven.
Friday, April 24, 2015
A frown of clouds creases the brow of sky and warns with its worried look a foreboding wind, as a slap slam of thunder resounds fatigue in the air caused by the long gone past now ghost of a summer's day.
Becoming smooth, the tide recedes exposing a tree still living though submerged for most its trunk, just bare bark living beneath wave and brine; how it does so is mystery, as without leaf it gives us no name.
Wednesday, April 22, 2015
Daffodils precede daisies in their spring season flowering, brighter fair coming before the common dark. Unequal in beauty and in flame of blooming, the weed predominates; the worse have the most children.
Tuesday, April 21, 2015
Fire made us and fire may destroy us. Our extinct cousins never freed fire's full uses. They didn't think to port it and now they are no more. But we have learned to carry it to rain it down upon our own kind.
Monday, April 20, 2015
To that false Spring that had us by its fair green deception while it lasted, so fooled; say a fond goodbye a sad farewell. Short is our summer season; long our winter. It is not over yet and still it keeps its frost.
Sunday, April 19, 2015
A confusion among magnolia trees to bring forth buds to begin to flower follows on long Winters; it's to trust a Spring that appears like Summer, or it's better to wait to hope it's really true cold is finally over.
Saturday, April 18, 2015
Dark clouds coming in close, a spike of lightning spiralling down as the drum of thunder slaps in time to rain summer thunderstorm; blue-back gray whale rolls in the sky, birds shelter and scatter. So ought I.
Thursday, April 16, 2015
Ghostly computers track the world; they trace you, they trace me, they inform on you, they inform on me and there is left for us no privacy. Our lives monitored by a cold indifferent god has come to pass.
Tuesday, April 14, 2015
This embrace of seasons, Spring and Summer, as the snow crocus and cherry tree blossom together; janitors, collects, the pinkness of the new into unity of experience of hope when Winter is forgotten.
Monday, April 13, 2015
In Spring, feel the strange in the cherry tree's blossoming, in the pushing green of bud to a white and pink feathering of limbs; sign and significance of transformation: butterfly change of crysalis to flight.
Sunk past its rose-gold gleam in the purple hills across the blue river, the sun disappears into a violet twilight, to glare behind the eyes; something still seen subsequent to fall, memory of brightness past.
Sunday, April 12, 2015
Maybe I shouldn't care but I do anyway. There's rules to the game. Fate holds all the cards but we're one-eyed jacks. Destiny doesn't know other side. Don't know what it is myself; yet, it's always there.
Latent in existence is this lateness: what denotes a present is a past cause, something which has gone before; because preceded it's making the present. This is false. What Is exists regardless of What Was.
Language contains boundary of thought. The high privilege of poets and philosophers, best of them are both, is being in forward observation position for exploring talk so to contact, to convey, new realities.
Evil in all men exists and some few men are all evil while none are all good, nor could they be and still be human. This makes drama. It's conflict that makes for good life. Angels are dull and have no story.
Friday, April 10, 2015
Though the World knows not you and state and society don't want to know your name; Nature loves, needs you, is happy you're here in place in position recognized by What Is: essence causes existence.
Wednesday, April 8, 2015
The island of knowledge is surrounded by a limitless ocean of imagination, of dreaming, of a deep myth; without them there would be no knowing, no learning, no education as no thing can from nothing come.
Tuesday, April 7, 2015
Those tides on which we float, both high and low, morning and evening plus that afternoon dalliance between these two in a stable equilibrium, neither rising nor falling, are the three states of our lives.
Necessity drives the daily slavery of repetition. The mortgage of days is always the same, makes a long boring drama, a farce from a habit of debt; obsession with meeting obligation to pay each rent on time.
Monday, April 6, 2015
Spring bladed grass shoots up in the early April to cut the soil in earth swoon carpets of color, spotted by the polka dots of daisies; their yellow ovals spilled out on the green blaze in bright hazard of hues.
Love is a pistol shot at the heart that possesses right placement and deep penetration enough sufficient to satisfy the kill of loneliness and end the selfishness of pointless existence, absent hope or of change.
Saturday, April 4, 2015
Crocus and lilacs, Spring is falling into Summer fast after a late Winter, making for a lavender season, an amalgam of softest violet, not quite one nor yet the other; with promise and laziness: Wait for Fall.
Friday, April 3, 2015
When, beneath a blood moon, you take your allotted place in ranks of the dead, in what formation shall you stand; with whom faithfully followed others' order or the courageous few who were insubordinate?
Thursday, April 2, 2015
Best education comes from experience, not from the schools, and the long-lived are the better learners. College teaches what society desires the young to be but the old know that is not what one ought to be.
Wednesday, April 1, 2015
First, to build a bridge across the sea of stars, a new caisson must be built, a strong foundation, which rejects ancient beliefs and false faiths; to make a far firmer myth poured to advance the future of Man.
A kiss before dying, an embrace before night must fall; the old cliches yet suffice to summons nostalgia of times past when such speech was new when it was considered summation of an attitude of defiance.
Entailed to death, mortgaged to mortality, in certain knowledge of our extinction, soon to be forgotten; the sole option left is to kiss life, to embrace it, regardless of the sure immanence of an inevitable end.
They who would have us play to their order the game of life by their rules or by their laws know nothing of us, of honor, or of life. No statute or commandment could be proposed that can contain our destinies.
Tuesday, March 31, 2015
Conscience is the constant gardener of the soul, as the weeds of complaisance needed to be rooted out; pulled from the psyche to be replaced with finer flowers of confluence of compassionate consciousness.
Sunday, March 29, 2015
More than this, more than we'll ever know, in the soft time before nightfall, the violet hour of twilight, spell of a quiet acceptance sinks in, fills the mind with calm and there's no need more to fear the dark.
Friday, March 27, 2015
The long cold pause that makes winter a retreat and makes a hibernation from reality a helpful sleep, is over, is now done; and we must wake to a world neither wished for nor ever thought would come to be.
Thursday, March 26, 2015
Emergence begins with extinction, an ending of what has been before. In every beginning resides its end. Sweet sorrow precedes every joy; to end is to start again, a death is needed for there to be a life.
Sunday, March 22, 2015
Monday, March 16, 2015
There's democracy in death, an egalitarianism, that can't exist in life. None are equal, all are different when alive; in death all share common end in dissolution, in extinction: high and low share the grave.
Fog steam of a sinuous lustrous gray lays upon the streets of the city in the early morning; squats down in sedate soggy on wet pavements, waiting to be lifted up, to be raised up by the warm arms of the sun.
Sunday, March 15, 2015
Our lives are a spit in the eye of Fate and that's what we are all about. We never intended to play the game or to abide by rules. We know it's a miracle we're still here and we plan to take full advantage!
Destitute of ambition, bereft of hope, the world acts upon us, batters us; more often it ignores us, and we must carry on regardless of any reward or praise for what we do every day. Which is what exactly?
Friday, March 13, 2015
Biology determines their belief but men could determine their biology. That which we would so wish to be we can become if our Will is strong. Will is made by yielding to overcome and by bowing to conquer.
Thursday, March 12, 2015
Any State that cannibalizes its citizens to use them up as fodder in foreign wars to impose its political will, is as bad, is as evil, as any faith, which, by force, proselytizes, to convert, to submit, to its belief.
Tuesday, March 10, 2015
Confronted with the coercion and the compulsion of conscription a fled desertion is the moral option. There're plenty of them who would hurt others. Those who heal and preserve remain in short supply.
The several factions split on every issue, form a symmetry of stupidity. None is right. All are wrong. The statement each provides is frivolous and fractious; not solution to the real problem what's a nation for?