Exciting news!!! ‘The Treasure of Forgotten Island, A Poetry Collection‘ is now published and available to the public on Amazon.com. The collection of over 60 poems and 11 paintings is a treasure . . . packed with treasures for any poetry reader or art lover. Order your full color copy of the book today, or if you just want to read the poems, order the black and white paperback, or pick up the Kindle e-version. Then let me know what you think. Enjoy!
BLM (Black Lives Matter) is a case study in irony. While they promote their cause that black lives matter, they also seem to endorse the fact that white lives do not. A hateful and certainly racist opinion, no doubt.
I cannot (and do not) believe that the majority of intelligent black Americans believe in this violent hatred. I give them much more credit than all of the current stupidity and idiocy. I do recognize the fact that there is a significant minority of vengeful black racists that insist on violent civil disobedience and on fueling the fires of hatred. In effect, promoting killing and death.
And I do very much feel that Barack Obama has further fueled the hatred instead of endorsing unity and peace, as many truly believed he would. Despite what any of my friends may think or feel (or anyone else) – – – he is a failure. He had the opportunity to unite and heal. Instead he chose to further promote exclusivity, elitism, segregating protectionist legislation, divisiveness and hatred. It is a direct reflection of his lack of character and continued incompetence.
The reality for all of us is that BLM and any other groups promoting such hatred are no different than the Ku Klux Klan, or foreign terrorist organizations. War is easy to incite. Just about anyone can do it. Peace, on the other hand, is a cause that has to be worked on every single day. It is an arduous and often long term process with miraculous results.
I applaud all of my friends and celebrities such as Ringo Starr that are promoting peace. But unfortunately, in order to have peace you must FIGHT hatred. Promoting peace and love is all good and well, but without fighting ignorance, hatred and violence it means nothing.
God Bless and guide with strength the families of those brave American heroes that died in the line of duty protecting our freedoms and our rights to live peacefully. And have mercy on the family of the misguided young man that committed the barbarous acts of evil, under the guise of hateful groups and individuals such as Black Lives Matter.
Amen
POLITICS AND RELIGION:
The History of Man – Part One
God has no preference between a man and a woman. They are both equal in the eyes of God. God has no preference between a Christian, a Jew, a Muslim and a Buddhist. They are all equal in the eyes of God as long as they respect the creation of God’s Nature. The laws of God are universal and timeless. The interpretations of God’s laws by men are often flawed and selfish. Prophets are good people because they interpret the laws of God to men in a fair and just way. And they are at times, both exalted and persecuted, because they dole out fairness and justice to all men equally. But not all men consider themselves equal to other men in their own eyes.
Religions have killed in the name of God for thousands of years. Even Atheism has killed millions. Religious conversion has often been forced at the end of the sword or the gun. The concept itself is contrary to religious dogma. To believe and have faith in God is a personal and voluntary decision. If religion has to be forced upon someone, it is no longer religion. It becomes politics. Politics is a dogmatic belief created by men to impose their own idealistic idiosyncrasies upon others.
Recently, we have been daunted by ‘terrorism’. Men have terrorized each other, also for thousands of years. ‘Evolution’ is a gradual change over time. ‘Revolution’ is an abrupt social change forced by human political activity. It is important to differentiate between violent revolution and peaceful revolution. Peaceful revolution uses peaceful means to inspire dynamic change in a society. Jesus Christ, Mahatma Gandhi and Martin Luther King were peaceful revolutionaries. They distinctly instructed their followers not to incite violence. Peaceful revolutions create long term change that develops firm roots within a social structure. They do so, because the social structure is mostly in agreement with the implemented changes.
Violent revolutions are short lived. Because similar to forcing religion upon someone, the ‘idealism’ will not be personal, nor will it be voluntary. So the political or religious facade will be discarded at the earliest opportune time. We have many examples of this in recent history. Two of the more significant instances is the failure of the Bolshevik Revolution with the fall of the USSR, and the failure of Mao’s Great Plan with the introduction of Capitalism in China.
A more recent example of a violent revolutionary that has killed millions is Castro’s crony Argentinian friend, Ernesto Guevara. His violent ideology and homicidal tactics continue to be idolized throughout the third world and in countries where some groups gravitate toward him as a ‘heroic’ figure. Heroic he is not. His actual claim to fame is as a mass murderer. His philosophy and early tactics soon inspired and activated other terrorist organizations to mimic and augment his callous violence toward humanity.
Targets were no longer strictly soldiers and warriors on the honorable battlefield. The days of respect among generals and for each others fallen soldiers ended with the bearded devil. And continues with other modern bearded demons. In many Muslim areas throughout the world, groups of fanatical and often violent individuals have incited the same senseless violence against innocent people. Without honor, without compassion and without tolerance, which are three of the most important foundations of all religions.
All of these groups have at least one thing in common. They all consider themselves devout followers of Islam. The truth is, they are all Islamic heretics, prostituting the cleanliness of Islam into a Satanic abomination of evil. They are the merciless. And they continue to taunt and kill the merciful.
Arrows Missing The Target – Part Two
Living in the Middle East I have met hundreds of Muslims from all over the world. Iraq, Iran, Jordan, Syria, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Sudan, Somalia, Morocco, Egypt, Saudi Arabia, Qatar, Kuwait, India, Bangladesh, the Philippines, Nepal, Sri Lanka, South Africa, Turkey, Armenia, Uzbekistan, and others. All of the people I have met are good people. They just want to work an honest job to feed their families. And be able to go to sleep safely to get up the next day and do it again.
Everyone I’ve spoken to wants the same exact thing. But there are those out there, as small a minority as they might be, that would prefer to force their ideals and their values on others through force. This is the evil in the world. And it is easy to recognize. Unless sometimes when the evil comes from the lips of a Rabbi or a Priest or an Imam. Their position as an intermediary to God, gives them undisputed credibility in the eyes of many people that are less than grounded in a solid foundation of belief.
So I had to understand WHY this happened. And that is when I started to research. Eventually I found three connections that completely explained the answers I was seeking. But they were not evident. They were not widely discussed or covered by the media. In fact, the opposite was true. The information was meticulously kept concealed. Finding the answers required sifting through volumes of misinformation and discovering carefully hidden historical facts.
to be continued
It’s almost time for me to head back home
but today I feel a darkness creeping
across the globe dark forces seeping
they find the holes when I am sleeping
or when I am not fighting them and keeping
them on the defensive.
They are greedy green mean machines.
Real powers and real forces. There are those that
don’t believe me. They don’t see them every day.
So they give them holidays, so they can do what they may, and take away, more of what you pay and pay. They do not understand that only they can stop them. But they must fight them every day. Without a holiday. Believe what I say.
Drugs you don’t need.
Healing plants you can’t have.
Poisons in your food to make you pay.
Wars and weapons to pay and pay in lives.
Watching and listening, taking away your dignity,
your humanity, your joy.
Tricks to fool you, pay you to work,
then take your money away.
You never own anything. They own you.
You can stop them.
You must stop them.
Stop the banks from stealing.
Stop the companies from cheating.
Stop the people from lying.
Stop the government from killing.
Love.
Love is not religion.
Love is not a competition.
Love is not waiting for the reward.
Love is Nature.
===================
11/13/13 – fjl
They run like colts
in river beds of solid wines
flicking whatever berries
at each other
or something.
They both understand the language
wondering with each other.
Laughing
and knowing
when they hurt each other.
Suffering for each others pain
and crying
because they dance
within each others rain.
—————————————–
You have always been a movie to me
knowing I could never touch you.
Now you sit and stare at me
through the other side of this bottle
setting on the table here between us.
I feel as if a magic is missing
you are not the star I dreamed of.
Once you were the shining light
of my heavens dreaming
in a momentary wish.
Now I can see what I am left with
is not what I had hoped for.
I see what I am watching
is not what I had once enjoyed.
You have always been a movie to me
now my life plays in reverse.
I never could quite touch you
now I know
I’ve touched too much.
——————————————-
A thick blanket of fog covers the Earth
I look out to see the new day
a bright ray of sun breaks through the darkness
and only those who see the light
will dream.
‘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
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.
—————————————————
– 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)
If you become obsessed with being published, you will become just another frustrated writer like so many others in the world. Write every chance you get, no matter how ludicrous or nonsensical what you write might seem. Write for yourself not for others. Most writers who write to make others happy lose their soul. Don’t ever let any critic frustrate you into not writing, this happens very often to too many writers. All you are doing is giving in to someone who probably doesn’t even know what good writing is, and you only hurt yourself.
Don’t be frustrated by vultures, such as may often be experienced on the web. Experience life! Good writing material comes from true life experience and your unique interpretation. Desktop writers are usually stale or journalists, and we all know most journalists are rarely real writers, they are just paid record keepers. Those that never go beyond their own four walls can not possibly know what the rest of the world feels. Keep pads of paper and a pen wherever you hang out, by your bedside, in the kitchen, at your desk, in the bathroom, in your car…and don’t be afraid to pick them up and use them whenever you can.
Keep your writing organized. If you write a lot of crap and just keep throwing it in drawers, that is where they will die. Type your stuff into a computer. Bind it in an organized fashion. Catalog it. This way you will always know where it is. You will also be able to come back and read it, figure out if it sucks or if it has potential, then polish it till it makes you cream. But don’t over polish. Anything too slick is worthless. It has no heart. Read as much as you can…from other writers, about writing. Read and study all the grammatical rules, then make your own.
Courses and seminars are just fine, I guess…but usually you learn what works for others and not what works best for you. Often they will fill your brain with rules that cramp creativity. Take anything any academic tells you with a grain of salt. Academic writers usually think they know it all and are great writers. Usually they are creatively isolated and lame, and they only write for other academics, who are usually the only ones that understand their misaligned gibberish complete with obscure and insignificant references. Write so that anyone can understand what you read. The more sensibly and sincere you write, the more it has universal appeal and significance. Never, ever take the publishing world seriously. It is a marketplace and like any other marketplace it is full of prostitution and idiots. Treat them as such and you are sure to succeed. Remember… published writers have very often sacrificed their own personal creativity for some sleazy magazine or some high brow snot nosed esoteric rag which hardly anyone reads.
If you do decide to waste your time trying to get published instead of writing…this requires lots of letters, postage and time. Eventually someone will publish you. Never be discouraged by rude editors who never acknowledge or reply…this is a majority in the publishing world. Play the contest game if you like, but if you do, go for the big ones, with big rewards. Don’t waste your time on the little guys, they do little to advance your career. Before you submit anything, polish it. Ask someone with half a brain to read it, and listen to their idiocy, somehow you might manage to extrude a grain of truth. Visit as many little artsy fartsy writer get togethers as you can. Here you will find other hopeless circus clowns, but every now and then you might just meet someone who can actually advance your writing ambitions.
Write, write, write then write some more. Then edit, edit, edit and then edit some more. This is the true secret. And as previously and wisely mentioned…have fun! If you are not having fun when you write, it becomes a job. And in this case you might as well become a journalist, or write for magazines or journals or Hallmark cards. Invest in a current copy of the Writers Handbook. Visit the Poets & Writers web site…these can be good resources if you know how to use them. And finally, never ever put up with anybodies crap or sell your soul. Editors, agents and their kind can be vicious, self-serving and butchers…tell them to kiss your arse. And write what you feel…this way you will always be happy and you will not feel like you are a writing prostitute, like so many other best seller list sluts.
THE CIRCUS . . . . . . . . . AND THE ZOO 