Red Senate

Red Senate
!
 !
Remember, remember the 1st of December’s
betrayal by Congressional props.
The People have reason to charge them
with Treason,
but the Oligarchs own the cops.
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Giving

Gratitude implies obligation
True happiness implies
free acceptance, grace.
Happy to embrace my natural rhythm,
elation, charismatic support.
I am in awe, a true believer,
not on my knees in supplication,
blissfully supine, open to grace.
 *
 *
 *
Thank you all for being
— as this contentious year unwinds
All the courageous reaching
to share caring and desires
All the fear, sickness and heartache
All the joy, infectious smiles
Acts in which our visions partake
displaying creative styles
Hear my wishes for a future where
convivial peace abides
You are so welcome, inspiring seekers,
in my life.
 *
 *
 *
Keeping safe
Keeping warm
Keeping grace, away from harm
Giving Hope
Giving Love  Giving Peace
Life as good
Life as fun
Life in love with every one
 Giving Peace
Giving Hope    Giving Joy!
Every day of light and play
Every shining holy day
Opening our hearts
Making ourselves parts
of the living
of the giving
 *
I give my song to you, that we may sing as one:
Live in joy   Live in peace   Live in love

chironic verse

 

Chironic Vision Part I
 .
The future descends
from the fear-embroidered skies
the vision is of holocaust — when everybody dies
A new day is dawning, but is it sun or storm?
We have a chance to make our mark
but is it right or wrong?
The military marches
The anti-warriors too
We take our stand in battle
The many and the few
Spinning tales of magic, of wizardry and fate
We want to know just how it ends before it’s all too late
We sing our song too late
We right our wrongs too late
We want to know the date
To find a better fate
 .
Can I tell you?
Can I help you to know or understand?
Can I utter the words that will make you see me?
Standing here before you, I want to take your hand
to be swirled up into a magical dancing
to be taken to worlds of beauty entrancing
to give you the will and the wonder to set you free.
Can you see me?
 
 .
 .
Plutonic Verse
 .
.
As long as it matters that I exist
As long as I’ve something to go back to
As long as there is a community of which I am an integral part
The rest is just details
And though “the devil is in the details”
So are the gods.
 . 
.
One Hand Clapping
 .
.
Is a reflection in a glass,
like moonlight,
half empty or half full
or, like moonlight
filled with the stuff of dreams?
What is the sound of moonlight
dripping onto the earth
down a silver stair?
What is the demand of dreamlight?
Emotion spilling onto sand or clay,
roaring like soundwaves?
Light coalescing into sound into waves into sea?
What is the demand of sky of sea of fire
dripping through the twilight?
Reflections
half moonlight, half mind.
 .
.
Revelation
 .
.
Weave into the fabric of a tribe of artistic dancers.
Fall under the spell of pure magic.
Silent night, peace and cold
Imbue me with music
In ecstasy, I dance to the stars.
.

social web

It’s worse than we think,
not politic bickering,
cascading arguments to deflect,
destroy, ignore;
distinct irritation – crawling creeps,
glitches, buses whiz by splash cold wet crud
and on and forth and so, under floods, above
hail and helicopters call out bluffs and bluster
Yeah:  everyday wasters of what might be my life.
But!  Think – can we?  No time, no quiet, no surcease
of constancy always having to take in, take in, take in
surround of sound and fury to keep up with obligatory
reply and query of spiral wire social environ.
Who I might be; what we might find together speaking
mind to mind – no room! no room without within.
Insanely caught and carried spin, inhale quick
lines beyond lies or plan that pull us every which but
no direction.  Complicit vivisection, unnamed, unseen
poison air we breathe, the ruling molecules
we enmeshed become.

inadequate

not here to mess with ya,
just to sort this to the extent I can
so no one need mess with anyone
fear repels
keeps us walled against all Hell
beyond our fortitude
who are any of you to sneer?
pain demands angry claws extended,
spewing caustic gas to defend, to pretend
power of money, fog of gunfire, closing in
to rank and lineage will end in winning
pride and honor but mostly invulnerability,
freedom from them who might threaten
yes, it all makes sense – what’s not us is them
never to be trusted, because we know divisive cuts
of suffering and that’s enough!  more than enough!
scoring pain, raging to feel clean outpour of ferocity
— lash from our ravaged core to those ripe for blame
and now, how do you feel?  what have you won?
war has become your reality – where do you find
a way beyond duality in which to begin,
and continue every day,
to heal from destruction, mine creativity to
construct a place of peace?  to solve our pain?

In Concert

It’s ok
because, what needs to be said?
Fragmented sentences fraught with memes shared and scattered,
themes from the pictures that run through our head,
keep us in step with all today’s matters …
Running so free, heart flutter with breeze singing,
nowhere to be but hearing grand elegant zephyr refrain and release.
All we wish to express enfolds us in euphony, harmonic bliss.
Is that what you meant,
when you told me:
“Listen:”

storm season

Night storm.
Dream of dread,
exulted mortal fantasy?
Blowing into dark legends,
hungry ghosts
lick onto shore, howling.
Sea reclaims land,
seeping semen into soggy
womb, engenders crises of coming change.
Halflings gleam, seek succor of moonlight
peeking through, veiling black cloud visions.
Portents scream, drowned in thunder,
rage caught, flails in reverberating wind.
 *
 *
 *
Huddling against terrible storms, warm, safe,
together.  May we dream out dark weather in
gentle peace.

Dammed

I am thinking of a brick wall,
hiding danger within scandalous imagery.
Walls upon walls.
High, low, immoderately
profuse,
scored with illusory murals,
scorch bled graffiti,
wicked symbols,
unclean, unpurified.
Trauma reverberates,
messes with circuitry,
irreverent irreconcilable
discrepancies
in cellular reproduction,
glitches and stammers
in data processing.
A wall. I am building,
brick by painful brick
cemented with blood and pus,
tall, thick, obscuring
day and night,
laughter and warm embrace,
secret words of consolation
hidden in humor and homilies.
Walls stand
ready for bombardment,
awaiting destiny of chaotic rubble
when history reaches
critical mass.

fumes

so many more small voices
the whine is deafening
Yo no puedo
nada, nunca
All’s too much a chore
The human world is running out of days
running out of time, and place
running down, fading
Take what you are craving
while you can
Running, enclosed in wind and ecstasy
tumbling through hills and streams
touching ebullient songs and stories I
mind made from scores of memories
Fairy Queens in fabulous fashion,
perfumed theatrical, fountain of care and flame
Here, decades before stir of storms destroyed,
bliss and pain drum rattle refrain humming in time
Would you listen?  Would you call for intermission
to tell me to go on, to give form to cast impressions,
would you hear?
Would you share precious dialog, help to make clear
notes and tones adrift in unwritten air?
darkening, forward escaping, suffocating forests can
offer no refuge, no future breath, no better fate
We cry our deep and enduring hate, love, revenge
falling backward