Rants. raves and ramblings from celestial circles . . .

Archive for the ‘SOCIETY’ Category

GOVERNMENT ACCOUNTING 101

It’s not as complicated as they purposely make it. I did my own research. Unlike others who accept the hype and whine. And so I came up with two very simple SOLUTIONS. Count them, two.

ONE – The Federal government should never have any more money in circulation than they have in liquid assets.

TWO – The government shall not be permitted on an annual basis to spend any more than their total annual income from revenues.

God, that is so easy isn’t it? Makes sense too, doesn’t it? And if they spent LESS than they brought in on an annual basis, they could pay down on the debt.

And this is how I came to this enlightening revelation. First, the Federal Reserve is unnecessary if we have a Federal Treasury. The Federal Reserve is simply a fiat economic government created by wealthy banking interests to serve wealthy banking interests, and to give them complete control of our economy so as to protect their own asses. If our government backs every dollar printed with one dollars worth of US government assets (property, resources, etc. Investments can only count for a small percentage, as their value is riskier.) . . . we have now created a currency that is actually WORTH what it portends to be worth. After all, all those resources are ours anyway (the tax payers). And if we use those resources to back a currency for us to trade with each other, then we can feel secure that it’s actually worth what we trade it for. And so I went digging for the numbers.

As expected, our General Accounting Office and the Federal Reserve do not make those numbers easily available. They count all types of imaginary beans, but real beans they have a phobia for. But I did manage to find a number . . . more than $1.6 trillion. So then I went looking for the total number of dollars in circulation. This number is easier to find, $1.15 trillion as of November 14, 2012. So voila! We own more in assets than the money we’ve printed. Turns out we’re not in as bad a shape as we thought, right? And our dollar is backed by a material resource, albiet not gold or silver or some other precious metal, but it makes me feel better anyway.

This makes the second point an easy one. Add all the total projected revenue for the following year and only allow Congress to spend half of that sum and spend the rest paying down debt. Not so complicated, huh? It is for them. Why? Because then they can’t finagle, steal and cheat. That simple.

Don’t know about you, but at my house I’m not allowed to spend more on credit, than I have in assets. The bank makes sure of that. And I try not to spend more on expenses than I receive in income. Is government really that different than you and I? Not really. They only want to make us think they are.

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WHEN NOTHING IS EVERYTHING

‘There is Nothing in the Desert, And Every Man Needs Nothing’

 

The actual quote is from ‘Lawrence of Arabia’ and it reads, ‘There is nothing in the desert, and no man needs nothing’. It was recently used in the film ‘Prometheus’, from Ridley Scott. It’s a great line and very significant in the film. Where once again we witness the dangers of technology and the humans that create it. Mary Shelley warned of us how our passion for striving to be as powerful over others as God, could lead to our own self-destruction. But we don’t have to read ‘Frankenstein’. All we have to do is look around us every day. Man’s attempt to reach that divine plateau of knowledge, mimicking our own concept of ultimate power we have perceived as God, can be both a blessing and a curse. It is only by our own cautious manipulation of those great powers we have achieved, that we will control our own fate toward advancement or destruction.

Need I remind you of this as you stare at your computer screen? Or dabble with your phone? Or sit complacent for hours in front of your television? What I can remind you of . . . is how every technology is simply a tool. And like any tool, it can be used for good or for evil. A hammer or a wrench can build or fix the greatest of challenges, but they can also be used to strike the life of another living being.  And a tool is not a human being. We can use tools to improve the lives of other beings. But tools do not have a heart. They do not feel and they do not love. We often use tools to win the love of others; a new car, a new phone, a new toy. But are we giving with the assumption that the work involved to acquire and gift that tool to win someone else’s love, is equivalent to the love we gift as fellow humans? Is the material gift we give, equivalent to the love of our smile, our compassion, or most important, of our time?

Most of us do not live in a desert. We live in a world where the illusion of abundance surrounds us. An abundant illusion so perfectly manipulated, that we feel no remorse when discarding those things we no longer deem valuable. Our abundant world immediately offers a replacement. We can always buy a newer car, a smarter phone, or another plastic container of water; all of them disposable and replaceable. Of course, only if we happen to be lucky enough or wealthy enough to afford them. But where has our disposable existence of material objects led us? It has led us to another illusion. An illusion where we do not have to face what becomes of our disposable resource once we discard them. We are allowed to wear our blinders and walk away from the refuse of our own existence. There was a time when man’s only disposable waste was his own excrements, or the bones left behind after a meal. We were equivalent with all of life around us, because we shared the same requirements, and we left behind the same by-products. We weren’t leaving our discarded by-products strategically buried for future generations. We were simply returning them to the Earth, where they would recycle into the basic elements of the Earth.

We have learned to accept the illusion of abundance, surrounded by all those material possessions that provide us with the comforts we require. And so I journeyed to the desert. And it is here I realized . . . every man needs nothing. Without a relative perspective in our existence, we have no bearing. And without bearing, we have no existence. All of the material possessions in the world cannot provide the necessary direction for existence. This is the lesson Buddha learned from self-depravation. This is how he achieved enlightenment. There are two examples I will provide (although many others exist). The first example is the child born to wealth. Unlike his parent, who may have started with nothing and achieved great wealth, the child has only known wealth. An entire life will be wasted in a pursuit of happiness through material possessions. And although this person may achieve limitless joys in hedonistic exultation, there will always be an inescapable empty hollow within their lives. Without ‘nothing’, ‘something’ is worthless.

The second example is the starving artist. A master of their Art, but impoverished. In their barren material world, they can create masterpieces of painting, music, and literature. They have the perspective of ‘nothingness’. So to them, every meager possession is a possession of wealth. Here again, their life’s fate can move in either of three different directions. They might continue broke and desolate, creating magnificent works of art. And likely die broke and desolate, but a great artist. Or they can achieve wealth, and their lives will take one of two paths. Either they will lose their creative spirits and immerse themselves in their newly found material wealth. Or, if they are wise, they will continue to create art, but maybe not as passionate or inspired as before.

There are countless examples, every day, all around us, of both the wealth born child and the starving artist. And then there are the rest of us, somewhere in-between. Without knowing ‘nothing’, we will find nothing. And without finding nothing and knowing what we have found, we will not ever find anything else. I have found nothing in the desert. And in the desert I have found everything. I can now see that although I have had everything in my life, without finding ‘nothing’ in the desert, I would not know what it was that I had. I would not know what others do not see. And I would not be able to give you ‘nothing’. Knowing that it is the only ‘something’ I could ever give you, that will keep you nurtured and without thirst, in any desert.

 

“I have always loved the desert. One sits down on a desert sand dune, sees nothing, hears nothing. Yet through the silence something throbs, and gleams…”
― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

 

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THE MACHINE KILLED CREATIVITY

The machine killed creativity

I saw it for myself.

It bludgeoned all artistic strides

and massacred the rest.

 

Musicians were first bound to atoms

and then cast down to synthesize.

Pouncing notes on keyboards

for light waves to analyze.

 

Painters great were also slaughtered

by brushes of true bits.

Destined for the graphic tabs

and bland electric tits.

 

Sculptors once again were chained

by circuit boards and digits

building funky little trites

of solder, wire and widgets.

 

Writers were then gathered up

and tortured by their software

making  acronym of literature

and cleansing hard drives bare.

 

Movie folks were also brandished

and scattered without vision

destined for the rerun click

on the mouse of indecision.

 

Poets, whom of course were last

bore out the worst derision

for they were left with just a hint

of electric mysticism.

 

The machine killed creativity

I’ll show no remorse

I’ll keep my wafers powered up

for the next new resurgent force.

 

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A PRAYER IN TIME OF WAR

A pagan killed a Jew
A pagan killed a Christian
A Jew killed a Christian
A Christian killed a Jew
A Muslim killed a Christian
A Jew killed a Muslim
A Muslim killed a Jew
A Christian killed a Muslim
They all bowed to pray
to the same ignorant God
with deaf ears
and a passion for killing.
Dear God forgive them.

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LOVE ROAD

They are tearing up that old road again.
The road we built.
with sweat and blood
and paved in dreams of love.
Old man Grady died there.
Fell off the steepest of the ridge cliffs
into a mad white torrent of river
clutching his pick axe firmly.

For three dark days
we stopped work.
His wife still visits every year.
Throwing fresh colored flowers
grown in her lonely summer garden.
Back then we all worked the mules.
And at the end of every day
the men would all gather
with full whiskey bottles and rye.
Women would bring the cheese and bread.
We laughed and proudly praised the road.
God would smile upon us.

Before the labors
we never could cross
when the hard rains of spring came.
And when the heavy snows of winter fell
we became an isolated island.
No one would ever dare the mountain.
But every six months
when the summer sun cleared the pass
we would haul our goods to town.
Selling animal skins and crops
we kept the children happy.

I hear the roar of the bulldozers coming now.
Our love will soon be paved and covered over.
The women and children are crying.
They’ve hit a silver vein.
And the mining company
brought their bankers and lawyers.
Our love has been bought and sold.
They are tearing up the road again.
The road we paved
with our dreams of love.

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December 13, 2001

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IN THE HOLLOW MOSQUE

It’s an empty hole now
where the religious wise once preached hate
the mosque they teach peace in
survived.
It’s flowering back to heaven
from where it came
and rose again
this holy land that does not lose
it’s holy history.

Deep below the buried mounds
of bones and dunes and battles
where in the hallowed mosque
tales are told
of peace and love and sorrow.

Is it not the will of men
to teach the will of peace
to love tomorrow?
So the wisdom of the mosque
is not in men
but in the hollow.

_____________________________

(2003)

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Snake Oil Cures for Little Men with Smaller Dreams

I heard your poem on the radio today.
Little children were crying and bleeding
bowing to your mighty power.
I pulled my glass eye out
and rolled it down a bubble-gum sidewalk.
Three flies were mystically immersed in conversation.
They were talking about you, of course.
How you fought off all the angry slaves
so we could all drink milk and hug when
the cheerios were no longer crunchy.

I stepped on a pile of you today.
But my new no-stick nuclear shoes
kept me balanced and poised
for your next question.
I had to answer honestly
as all the satellites were
joyously listening
and the quiet drone
of your newly found synthetic existence
filtered the last ounce of sincerity
in the world.

Now everything is happy blue
and darkness hides inside a solar flare.
My chain keeps rattling loudly
inside this cold locked chamber.
And all of our hammers and shovels
were worn down to splintered oak.
But I forgot what trees looked like.
And when I pulled your plastic vagina
from underneath the dusty glass dome
it wouldn’t talk to me anymore.
It dried out and shriveled away.
Now all I have left is a rusty nail
and two holes in my blood soaked hands.

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GRANDPA

With his brittle bones
 and his sun cracked face
   he rode near ‘bout every mile
  of the round-up trail.

He licks the wind
  and stares out at nothing
   tobacco dripping lip, spits.
Hell, I fought the sun,
  and I won
   fought a sneakin’ coyote once,
  he lost.
Broke rattlesnakes in half
  between bare hands.
Got caught in the drought of the Tulsa ride, too.

Thought I’d die in that damn burning desert
    never have I thirst, so much
  for one wet drop.
They found me about four miles from Breakers Pass.
Eighteen-ninety-seven,
   that was my last long ride.
Too many damn city boys
   tryin’ to run the drive.

And now my grandson drives off
   in that noisy pick-up.
He’ll never know the dry taste
   of sand and grainy dust
  between your teeth.
Wind kicking in your face
    like a thousand angry hoofs
   punched in your mouth.

And my friend,
  cold black night.

Damn all this fancy fiddle.

___________________________

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MORE DOORS TO OPEN

I have just experienced the most amazing collection of doors I have ever seen. If you love beautiful, unique and exotic doors as much as I do, you have to visit this blog site.

Which lead me to thinking about doors. So what is so special about a door? A door is a gateway. It is an opening where you leave a space, however confining or expansive, and enter another space . . . possibly confining, possibly liberating, or possibly just a passage from one reality to another. The first ‘door’ we ever pass through is the ‘door’ of our mothers womb. From then on our lives are spent passing from one door to another. Through gateways of opportunities and experience, hence ‘the door of opportunity knocks’. Jim Morrison highlighted the importance of doors by naming his band ‘The Doors’. His band title was based on Aldous Huxley’s ‘Doors of Perception’, a personal accounting of his experiences with the psychotropic drug mescaline.

‘Doors’ have long been used as an analogy for the passing of the mind from one plane of reality or thought to another. This from Neil Turnbull on his blog site:

The Doors of Philosophy
“Doors are the first threshold into life.
We are always between doors; either indoors or outdoors.
The Romans worshipped doors because they knew that, like life, they look both ways: to the past and to the future.
The philosopher is also in a sense a door: a door from the false to the true; from akrasia to sophia.
The door is the true symbol of philosophy.”

He reveals a clue of why doors are so significant in our lives. Doors are symbolic representations of our passage from ‘past to future’. We travel through doors to reach an objective or a goal. A place where we either want to go, or are forced to go. Doors can lead to euphoria, as in the discovery of a new and exciting location or space. Doors can lead to misery, as in the closing cell doors of the prison or jail. And doors can lead to immediate comfort, as in the welcome door to our homes.  Doors can express an attitude, such as ‘an open door policy’. Or represent secrecy and deception, as in ‘behind closed doors’. Doors can also represent the process of decision making, ‘choose which door to open’.

But there is one more very important and symbolic representation of doors. Doors are so intricately woven into our psyche because they represent ‘mystery‘ and the ‘unknown‘. In the process of discovery we do not know exactly what lies beyond the door. The physical act of ‘opening a door’ means that we are an active participant in the ensuing discovery. To ‘open a door ‘means we are are open to something novel, a new experience, or a new adventure. There is an excitement to opening a new door. But the door can also be closed to represent an ending or an exclusion. To be ‘locked out’ or ‘close the door’ represents a finite termination. We open the door for new freedoms and we close the door for containment. This important duality of mental psychology is what makes doors akin to a switch that you can turn ‘on or ‘off’. But we can also leave the door halfway open or halfway closed. This represents a further level of mystery. Are we being enticed to enter? Or are we being warned not to enter?

Doors can also be symbolic in relationships. Do we leave our doors open for others to enter and experience our emotional depth and complexities? Or do we keep our doors shut tight and refuse others entry into our innermost fears, joys and emotions? Or are we one of those that keep the door halfway open/closed? Where the mistrust and the perception of a world that can be both cruel and kind has tainted us to be forever wary.

Imagine the excitement when Howard Carter first opened the door to King Tut’s tomb. Or when Neil Armstrong first opened the door of his capsule to step onto the moon.  While some are excited at the thought of opening a new door, many fear the thought of having to open or walk through a door. After reviewing a long list of phobias and fears (I had no idea there was such a long list of phobias), I found no technical term for fear of walking through doors, opening doors, or closing doors. Yet I know for a fact many people suffer from an extreme fear of walking through or opening doors. They fear the thought of what they might find when they open a door. If we fear opening doors, we are unlikely to experience anything new in our lives. We are less likely to succeed and advance in life. And we are highly unlikely to find meaningful relationships in our lives.

Always remember there are sometimes two doors, the fornt door and the back door. ‘Back door’ has taken on a derogatory sexual connotation. But there are also ‘back door deals’. Do you enter proudly through the front door? Or are you consistently trying to sneak in through the back door?

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If the doors of perception were cleansed everything would appear to man as it is, infinite.
William Blake

“The man who comes back through the Door in the Wall will never be quite the same as the man who went out. He will be wiser but less sure, happier but less self-satisfied, humbler in acknowledging his ignorance yet better equipped to understand the relationship of words to things, of systematic reasoning to the unfathomable mystery which it tries, forever vainly, to comprehend”
– Aldous Huxley

“Be an opener of doors”
– Ralph Waldo Emerson

Every wall is a door.
– Ralph Waldo emerson

“A very little key will open a very heavy door.”
– Charles Dickens, Hunted Down

Men shut their doors against a setting sun.
– William Shakespeare

When one door closes, another one opens. But we often look so regretfully on the closed door that we don’t see the one that has opened for us.
– Helen Keller

We often get in quicker by the back door than by the front.
– Napoleon Bonaparte

There are things known and things unknown and in between are the doors.
– Jim Morrison

The courage of the poet is to keep ajar the door that leads to madness.
– Christopher Morley

Listen, real poetry doesn’t say anything; it just ticks off the possibilities. Opens all doors. You can walk through anyone that suits you.
– Jim Morrison

The story of my life is about back entrances, side doors, secret elevators and other ways of getting in and out of places so that people won’t bother me.
– Greta Garbo

I feel very adventurous. There are so many doors to be opened, and I’m not afraid to look behind them.
– Elizabeth Taylor

A small key opens big doors.
– Turkish Proverb

It is often the last key on the ring that opens the door.
– Proverb

The greatest step is out the door.
– German proverb

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THE POETRY CIRCUS

  

 – a day on the playground –

 

It was a sunny day in the park 

and all the world was roses.

The playground toys around the gym

were spread about with vision.

 

In the garden of the park, the poets

played with poesies. They danced and sang like

foolish ones and praised the words

that brought them. 

 

The poesy poets on words with wings

within the sun, without the suns

all about were scattered.

Playground fun allowed to run

what else then should much matter.

 

      -Dark Clouds In A Rainbow Sky-

 

Suddenly in the happy playground

all the birds were silent.

Everything began to change

even knights and mystery.

 

Round the bend was heard

the sins, of all of mans misgivings.

In the playground, smells of men

whom smelled as no man ought to.

 

Two torn t-shirts, big boy, thin

stank the park. Stopped all the barks

and all the poets scattered.

But poets pass where powers lost

and no one is the wiser. 

 

    – The Sinister Sisters of Words Un-gathered –

 

Then the menace unto the park

descend a death, feline faced fat.

From steroid soaks and moldy books

his toy sword poking

maybe nothing matters. 

 

Into the spin, swatting thin

bull dog face fly swatter.

Came to beat the big boy thin 

came to beat the batter.

But no one came to watch him swath

the same. That was the matter.

 

Panjo pirate, one eyed brit

between the feathers, tickled him the parrot.

What sweet scheme, if rhythm matters

save the world. One mad librarian

a perfect world I gather!

 

(2003)

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QUANTUM OCEANEERING

I spent years grouping the little bits into place.

It first occurred to me

while I was vacationing on the French Riviera.

The central mechanism would connect

when it was only supposed to switch.

I took courses at MIT

and the Atlanta School of Solemn Mechanics.

But even that didn’t prepare me

for the microwave overload.

When you tinker with random thoughts,

you always seem to find a loose memory somewhere.

It often takes hours to unscrew

the tightness from the astringents and in-capacitors.

I prefer to twist the resistors,

till their transmitters overheat

and their diodes blow.

I’ve never had too many

loose tanning oils to contend with.

Sunstroke will sometimes cause cancer.

And my cooling fans are always running at full speed.

Just in case I have to tackle the big waves.

You do understand

that when blue water hits the beach

the silicone crystals in the sand

vibrate at the same frequency

as the unknowns in your head.

The processors always blink

millions of lights on and off

a message you can’t afford to miss

even when you’re wearing a speedo or bikini

or nothing at all

you do understand don’t you?

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OPENING THE DOOR IN BETWEEN THE LINES

From the time we are born, we begin to be influenced and molded by our environment. We imitate behavior. We follow role models. We are influenced by what we hear, what we see, what we smell, what we feel and taste. Our senses begin the long road of programming which continues throughout our lives. We are born innocent. Gradually we are tarnished, hardened, and molded into the character we become. At first we are helpless. We depend on our nurturers to feed us, change us, bath us, and provide a time to sleep and rest. When we reach the age of 3 or 4 years old, we begin to understand how our actions can effect our surrounding environment. Crying might get food. Smiling will elicit a laugh. Tantrums can sometimes get results.

Our first ventures in learning are very basic human behaviors: laughing, crying, anger, joy, surprise. Soon we begin the social indoctrination of the educational system. We are taught things that are not necessarily true or right. We are taught things we later find are insignificant. We are taught things that are certainly wrong. Along the way we learn to think. We learn how to gather information with our senses and process the information to develop a conclusion based on the information. But along the way our processing also becomes distorted. And in todays world, we are often deluged with so much information, our processing capabilities break down or become tainted. We tend to follow without questioning. We seek acceptance and strive to be inclusive within the greater social fabric. All of these factors will often blind us to the reality of the world we live in.

Some of us were born as males, others as females. We clearly see the dividing line between each. But a s select few were born between the lines. They did not choose this slight of nature. Yet they must modify their behaviors because of it, for the rest of their lives. The physical properties were a product of science, not of the environment. Society explains these unique individuals through many different terms. Among them hermaphrodites, intersex, DSD (disorder of sexual development), ambiguous genitalia, he-she’s, freaks. Now at this point is where I must make a very important differentiation that has continually confused our society and undermined the struggle of these very human co-inhabitants of our planet. In my opinion, they are not a product of a disorder. They are not freaks. They are only freaks in the respect that we are all freaks on this planet.

Now here is the important differentiation. I will refer to folks that have been born with gender variations as ‘intersex’. Even among their own community, the terminology they prefer is ambiguous. Some prefer to refer to themselves as males or females, whichever gender they most relate to. Others use a variety of different terms. `The Science and Medical community now refer to them as ‘DSD’ or ‘disorder of sexual development’. I don’t like this term at all, it is denigrating. If you require a medical term, I prefer to refer to it as ‘VSD’ or ‘variation in sexual development’. The Intersex community may not like this one either, I don’t know. But I don’t like ‘disorder’.

And I know what many of you are thinking right now, so I’m going to explain. Sexual preference is NOT gender. ‘Sexual preference’ is based on the gender you choose to actively participate in sexual acts with.  ‘Gender variation’ is the biological science of variations in physical attributes both external and internal to the human body. Please read these last two sentences very carefully. The misunderstanding between the two has created an injustice that has been promulgated for thousands of years. It is time it STOPPED! Before I explain the distinct differences these two concepts, I would like to explain a little bit about the biological science and the spectrum of gender variations.

It begins the same way this essay began; in the womb. Various factors contribute to the development of a fetus in the womb. All of us begin our lives in the fetus with pre-development female genitalia. Fact. Several biological processes determine the ultimate gender, these include chromosomes (xx, xy or variants), hormone excretions (androgens for male development), physical development of gonads or genitalia (sometimes the process get caught in various phases between the development of female genitalia to male genitalia), and finally a recent discovery, a small section of the brain that is different sizes in males and females. When these individuals are born they do not make a decision on gender preference. At this point, parents and doctors make the decision based on several factors (that’s another story). Sexual preference on the other hand, may be a result of several factors including the size of the area of the brain that determines male/female, hormones, and possibly environmental factors. We’re not certain. And this is not what I am discussing here. But the fact is that many born intersex may be attracted to the opposite gender of the sex that dominates their bodies (or not). Some people with intersex conditions exhibit characteristics of both sexes (androgyny, he/she). And some may even physiologically revert gender at puberty, just like flipping a light switch, because biologically certain androgens do not activate in the body until the late teens or the mid twenties.

To categorize intersex individuals as one size fits all into the Gay, Lesbian and Bisexual community is an injustice to each every one these people that were born with this biological condition. This is the dark shadow of ignorance our society has promoted. Even the LGBT (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Trans) community has been guilty of this. It is an in-service and an injustice. I am not close to anyone that I know for certain is intersex. And although I do have many friends that are gay, I am comfortable with my hetero identity and 28 of marriage with tow grown children. But I do know many that may be intersex because they exhibit either strong characteristics of both sexes, or exhibit characteristics of the opposite sex their outward appearance exhibits. They may be intersex or it may be hormonal or it may be neither of these.

This is the line of research I have been obsessed with in the recent past. This is the tragic human condition and social ignorance that has inspired me to initiate a project to enlighten others on scientific facts we are not told or are kept from us. I will do this in the way I know best, through storytelling. I will do it in the way I feel I can tell the story and present the facts accurately to the largest international audience, through documentary storytelling. I will be discouraged and maybe even suppressed by traditionalists, religious fanatics, those that prefer to keep the social status quo intact, or others who just don’t want me to succeed in my goals. But I will promise them this right here in writing today. I WILL NOT desist not will I be silenced. I will light the torch and I will let others light their torches from it to shed light for all of these innocent fellow human beings once and for all. They should not be required to live in slavery by our society because of the biological cards they were dealt at birth from Nature. Nature is God and God is Nature. And they deserve the same joys in life all others enjoy.

So I am asking you to please share this essay/link with others. Help me open people’s eyes that sex determination is science. And those caught in the middle of both sides deserve our respect. But don’t take my word for it. Do the research. Visit Wiki or Google or the Facebook page I created. Because I think if you do the research for yourself and once you know the facts, you will understand people in a whole new light. And you will be able to provide respect and compassion where you may not have considered it before.

‘Sex Is Science’ Facebook page click here. 

 

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MINDY AT THE COFFEEHOUSE REVISITED

Mindy leans at me with wide blue eyes
sparkling stars above a steaming cup
of Bailey’s and Vanilla Bean.
Mindy always has a question
really meant for God.
Expecting me to answer her
mystified and energized
in canyon deep philosophy.
Why do lovers lock embraced
in fear and desperation
fighting odds against a world
fighting odds against a universe?

My buttered bowl of grits
stare back at me.
Lump-less and textured white.
Because they know they’ll never win
a vulnerable surrender.
Her fingers rubbing gloss red lips
hungry and seductive.
Listens distant
quite intent and satisfied
enough to pass the salt.

Category:

MUSINGS, PHILOSOPHY, POETRY, SOCIETY

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IN A TOWN ON A FARM

dedicated to G. O.

In a town on a farm
not too long ago
a farmer told his livestock
‘this is how it is,
this is how it should be’
and all was well
the chickens were fed
the cows had hay
and all the pigs were happy
in the mud.

One cold December day
the farmers dog went rabid
he told the farmer
‘I don’t care.
it doesn’t matter
we can all do
what ever we want.’
The dog bit the farmer
who later died.
The chickens had no feed
the cows had no hay
and the pigs lost weight
while rolling in the mud
they were not happy.
They all died.

——————————————

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MUSINGS, PHILOSOPHY, POETRY, POLITICS, SOCIETY

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CHIQUE GOTH

It was around the time of the Middle Ages,

no the real Middle Ages, Goth

we were pretty much scared of anything moving.

We’d piss and shit in the streets.

Damn the smell of it all was horrid.

There were lots of fortune-tellers

making two bits or a byte

as in your mouth bite.

 

Lots of people using stupid shit

like frog eyes and newt nuts

trying to cure people dying

from black plague, an AIDS 1.0, duh,

or leprosy, venereal disease, or starvation

from no money honey.

Ya’ understand that, don’t ya’?

 

Religious fruits called monks,

no, not all, Sate-loon child,

there were some good ones hear,

and Court priests walked around

all the time and everywhere,

just like today, really, it was creepy,

in black robes,

and they’d cut your head off

if ya’ didn’t give ’em

a head job or your wife or

something for gods sake.

We ate with our bare hands

and burped and farted at the table.

 

Now we were Goths.

These kids today,

all dressing up like it’s Halloween

all the time.

As we look back now,

those were the really good times.

Lots of death and rotting flesh

in the streets. Plenty of corruption

and murder and rape.

Now those were the days.

Yeah, the good old Middle Ages days, huh?

Category:

MUSINGS, PHILOSOPHY, POETRY, SOCIETY

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