Posts Tagged ‘poem

15
Jul

PLAN. WHAT PLAN? THERE IS NO PLAN.

Hurricanes come

and people go

life comes

and life goes

in these things

we make a difference

or we do not matter

.

We have foresight

we plan

we look out and ahead

we find some things

are much greater than me

one is not enough

to fix the damage in life

sometimes

we plan to answer

as if in one mind

one heart that knows

what needs to happen

and what is right

between us

.

We plan

those plans are carried

in buckets called desire

by pooling our energies

this is community action

is to some their nemesis

they are about hiding

about hoarding and gain

they must poison the common

water between us

make sharing and caring

out to be bad

to be sad and subversive

.

To undermine the selfish goals

are to these dividers

the source of what threatens

the private retreat into unbridled fantasy

and unchecked self consumption

so they make the common

into ideas of weak and dependency

into barriers to selfish self realization

where the self is as a god

and culture atrophies

with this noose around its neck

.

Amidst plenty

compassion and empathy

are considered the makers

of failure

of weakness and subversion

simple dichotomies stake out minds

they barb wire love and trust

they empower suspicion

nurture arrogance and loathing

for those who would offer hope

of a full life to each creature

and each member of the human family

.

So care is undermined

it is snickered at as “do gooders”

as if good works were shameful

and worthy of spite

they proffer their contempt of the commons

as a right of each to take what they can

get away with

without everyone

or anyone else

having a right to question

this contempt of creation

.

The poisonous apple spreads

in its barrel of ignorance

caring for the commons

that place that connects

and is the nurturing conduit

of all life

caring for this union

this right of all being

is taught as being a falsehood

a usurper of our own

private desire

a taker and a spender

of what you could have claimed

for and to yourself

as if creation itself

were being cut up

killed on the butcher block

of selfish indulgence of ego

.

This will of the many

to answer with a plan

this is given a negative tag

called tax

as if it holds you back

from doing whatever you want

with your own plans

your self centered plans

your freedom

to destroy creation

if you so will

and not be held accountable

to anyone but you

.

The big necessities

can be ignored

will be ignored

this aversion to caring

will collect into its own vessels

they will form world views

with the individual as god

yet hiding deception behind god

up on a pillar to be worshiped

the self prayed to on the side

and comfort connected with

taking

to get whatever it can

get away with

.

This will be turned into a movement

a movement of righteousness

a cause of individual redemption

a myth of individual merit

as if on our own

is the only honest way

to achieve goals

that are good

unless ruled under fear

.

It will be separation

it will be called honor

and glorious achievement

to be envied

it will be claimed to be

gods best friend

the holy sacred messenger

the way of decency

and self realization

.

These are the false Prophets

the dividers and conquerors of Life

the subjugators of Love

the army of self limitation

and self mutilation

the consumption of Spirit and vision

distilled damnation

.

Fear and its greed

its sacred calf of insecurity

and their seductions

of us and them and others

that cannibalize life energy

the ability to see fully

from the ground into the stars

.

These will form association

form and conform nations

until light can be called

darkness

and darkness

light itself

.

To the armies of separation

the worshipers of the self

even if coated with religion

or self righteous ideology

for the whole

the health of everything

there is no plan

the winds rage

the seas rise

fuel cost strangle the poor

until they cannot afford to eat

and there is no plan

the black magicians of privatism

and of the ownership of creation

culture

these have no plans

they hope their friends

their ideological cohorts in separation

these will proffer off an answer

that is the vague plan

.

So the roads crumble

the jobs grow scarce

energy cost strangle wallets

take cans out of the pantry

chill the winters

heat up the summers

and there is no plan

no real plan

for the commons

has its soul held under water

is water-boarded by contempt

of all that unites us

all that we face

all that we are

and share

like it or not

believe it or not

.

If self centerdness wins

if blindness to connection wins

it will cripple the view

it will herd the mind

it will paralyze the heart

to only revolve around me

and my selfish life

my small life

an inherently threatened life

one I try to make everything

all about me and mine

by making everything else

insignificant

.

But everything is significant

significant things happen

they are always happening

if we seek to answer their call

we make our big plans

not by tax

but by offering

offering it up

to all that is

to the Whole

to Life and Love Itself

this is always the key

between being small

between thinking and acting small

or being big

.

Being beyond my own borders

expanding my awareness

not just next door

but to all doors

and each window

each opportunity

to know what is big

or be trapped by

my own small view

its narrow lens

its blind corners

not seeing the rising seas

the melting ice

the longing hearts.

15
Apr

POEM

MOMENTS ARE INSIDE TIME

They last just a short while

feathers from a skyscraper

dreams sifting through night

.

Behind camouflaged moon

I lock away our salted tears

raining into penumbral sea

.

Time’s ever falling mountain

sinks into subterranean trench

submerging breath by breath

.

An invisible last chance was

a simple moments freedom

returning to where it came

.

It will never be again

will never be again

never be again

be again

again

04
Apr

FOUND THEN LOST

There you were

hidden by leaves

covered in dust

.

You were somebody

then a memory

then a nobody

.

It will all be

on your shoulders

there as you lay down

eyes closed forever

your tags will drift

backwards

.

History will be

your last hiding place

until by this accident

your fall off a shelf

what is left of you

before me silent

.

Now here you are

again out of nowhere

I don’t know what to say

your footnote there on a page

your leaflets are blowing away

.

I do no longer see the point

where you came from

what you were doing

how you were undone

by the eraser of fear

.

Your first name it says

was Bill

and your last

Rights

and your middle name

hardly makes sense;

of

.

Of what?

For whom?

of when to where?

.

I see you receding

while we are speeding

away.

02
Apr

NATIONAL POETRY MOTH

img_0560.jpg

NATIONAL POETRY MOTH

Would it be the moon

or a shimmer of your wing

I come to the light

at the tunnel end of darkness

I come into you

the dream

and I receive pain

the light blinds

but still I persist

your appeal is addiction

I live in resignation

to the fate of attraction

I could not resist

typing into fire

becoming gas and ash

all to be more near

to bring into my eyes

the light that you are

the pain I ignore

for it comes with life

but why must I

live just to die?

Oh?

You said poetry month!

Forget about it.

30
Mar

ANTI WHITE HANDS

img_0748.jpg

FIRE spit out of my fingers

onto a wall without reason

a hand could send signals

through time

through lives

and all for the freedom

of taking a look

doing something

outside myself

on a cave wall

a living memory

the underside of a cliff

I touch you, see

out of nowhere

I reach you with just one clue

we contact outside of time

was it a minute

a while

a brief forever

does it matter?

.

.

.

(hand prints and all colors done by me with concrete impregnated with dye)

30
Mar

RUNNING OR RUINING THE WORLD

We have learned

that anyone can do it

anyone can play the puppet

I could speak off the teleprompters

repeating over and over, and over

just like old George Orwell said

I could scare the masses silly

making them dumbfounded

ready made for deception

change words meanings

it is what we have seen

what has come to be

my friends could get

incredibly wealthy

they would owe me

that is what nepotism

and our despotism

are always about

it could be me

or you siphoning

off of life’s energy

forcing our own will

upon if we are willing

to toss it all away

on sure delusion

and each dollar

like Orwell said

scare them good

good and stupefied

then tell them straight

whomever disagrees

is a liar or a traitor

misguided fringe

a seditious element

to be hounded down

by sycophants and bias

along with each freedom

then marginalize them

make them look nutty

you know it, ridicule

conservatism’s slave

tempting our hubris

now you own normal

the machinery is set up

to change the votes

to lose the trail

to tell the tale

only from our

point of view

now truth is bias

the hint will be

gotten inside out

the threat to freedom

bend it wide to oblivion

for it is we the doer’s

who own all Creation

having taken it away

right from under

the Almighty’s nose

if we ruin this world

running it ragged

using it all up

spitting it out

the public kept

deaf and dumb

so! what!

we have lived glory

been followed as gods

bowed to by believers

owned others wills

in the good life

we have taken

advantage

of all life

have taken

its very soul

consumed it

without a fear

for any one

or any thing

to stop us

anyone

could do it

we have seen it

the ungodly exchange

in our night of fear;

blood is cheaper

than oil.

27
Mar

TORN TO THUNDER

 

 

img_0825_2.jpg

 

Logic held out its shredded hands

amid posture and probability

fear came on as kindness

and deliberation

had triplets

a clown

the mirror

and the mighty wind

.

Reason was left holding back

brimstone hailed emotions

insecurities golden calf

wore a mask of goodness

of honor and most noble cause

a black vortex was called rose

siphoning up compassion

condemning empathy

as if they were

illegitimate children

wards of the welfare state

expected to clean and care for

any hand that held enough money

.

Spinning up worried elites propaganda

pundits guided a groomed church choir

common folk packed into position

received their new commands

to march in loyalties blindfold

when a dark root cellars depth

would have held them more true

 a better company that the proud

.

Logic’s air had become vacated

its home left in morbid curiosities

dreams now mixed in with detritus

insulation and roofing shingles lost

were nailed over hearts left hard

now pierced by rusted anger

.

What had been always true

of truth and of loves way

looked for evidence

any kind of history

even one memory

amidst the sorry

cacophony

.

We wailed

we looked for

what survived

of actuality

but alas

from the sky

came the echo’s

of each possibility

emaciated

by hate

by life itself

torn to thunder

.

 

25
Mar

WE ARE EASY MARKS: or quick receipe for mind control


“Bushes War” part two, is on PBS tonight. Get a hint of objectivity while you still can.

This poem and the following quote are dedicated to all those who participated in the amazing deceptions that brought us to the Iraq war. It is to the gullible and conformist convoluted “integrity” apparently in all of us, if we are to assume that the administration is in any way whatsoever, representing the higher interest of the American people and democracy. It is dedicated to the dictatorial assumptions of the “Unitary Executive” and all those who support its overthrow of our founding creed. The never-ending “war” as the overthrows justification.

.

I look forward to the upcoming film; “Body of War”

.(In honor of the way the corporate media treats us as ignorant simpletons in no need of fact based truthful context.)

CIRCULAR LOGIC LULLABY (ad hominem hymn)

Circular logic lullaby
kiss the girls and make them cry
stick just one needle in the eye
crossed your heart and hoped to die
no one has the right to ask why
circular logic lullaby

you couldn’t have if you don’t
you wouldn’t have if you wont
and if you wonder why, why, why
you might as well talk to the sky
join that blackbird with the pie…

Circular logic lullaby
kiss the boys and make them cry
stick just one needle in the eye
you crossed your heart and hoped to die
no one has the right to ask why
circular logic lullaby

context and concept are led astray
night is convinced its more like day
and if you wonder why, why, why
you might as well talk to the sky

join that blackbird with the pie…

Circular logic lullaby
kiss the girls and make them cry
stick just one needle in the eye
crossed your heart and hoped to die
no one has the right to ask why
circular logic lullaby

circular logic lullaby

circular logic lullaby…

.

And for more on easily manipulated public perceptions and the power of cult think conformity;

“Nazi leader Hermann Goering, interviewed by Gustave Gilbert during
the Easter recess of the Nuremberg trials, 1946 April 18, quoted in
Gilbert’s book ‘Nuremberg Diary.’Goering: Why, of course, the people don’t want war. Why would some
poor slob on a farm want to risk his life in a war when the best that
he can get out of it is to come back to his farm in one piece.Naturally, the common people don’t want war; neither in Russia, nor in
England, nor in America, nor for that matter in Germany. That is
understood. But, after all, it is the leaders of the country who
determine the policy and it is always a simple matter to drag the
people along, whether it is a democracy, or a fascist dictatorship, or
a parliament, or a communist dictatorship.

Gilbert: There is one difference. In a democracy the people have some
say in the matter through their elected representatives, and in the
United States only Congress can declare wars.

Goering: Voice or no voice, the people can always be brought to the
bidding of the leaders. That is easy. All you have to do is tell them
they are being attacked, and denounce the pacifists for lack of
patriotism and exposing the country to danger. It works the same in

any country.”

15
Mar

CYNICAL VIEW

CYNICAL VIEW

With everything for hire

and nothing not to do

when is light a real fire

or just one name true?

09
Mar

LIVE POEM

REASON AND SEASON

The last sun is touching my shoulders

spring

here where I am

it is showing up

branches change their color

buds are swelling

over one week plumb and peach trees

could not help themselves

their buds flowered

now leaves are showing

is winter for sure

over?

-

I have not the same certainty

I remember more than they do

or so it seems

These words cannot

help themselves

they are trusting something

a continuity will emerge

roots or dangling threads

will weave into a useless tangled ball

or a garment

I or someone could wear.

-

I like being live

being unscripted

no editor over my shoulder

or muse later wagging a finger

how could you be so naive

so disingenuously

innocent

to ever dream

of putting those things

together

as if

they were one?

-

The tom cat at our door

several days now

wants in

our other 5 cats

have questions

only one now seems to say;

sure, join us

three others

not as generous

and one unknowing

being young and himself

new here.

-

But these words are old

telemerase chains are shortening

their feet get cold easily

they fold in more of their game

expecting others to replace them

fresh and strong

but even those new ones

are in ways lacking.

-

Life has its scripts

narratives that go beyond

my notions of good and evil

intentions have their

own convolutions

often I would rather not know

where I fall into spring

these words budding

expecting to open

a heart?

a mind?

something to trust?

-

Or what it is

to be open anyway

no matter the cold front coming

no matter any and all

judgement

life always

sits at the door

of language

invited to come

and go.

02
Mar

THE CAPSTONE–a poem

THE CAPSTONE
BEHOLD
WORDS ARE CHANGED
THE TOWER OF BABEL STANDS

.

They did not know:

The allegory is the sky
The tower scrapes the clouds
The time doesn’t bend around it
The spaces will not be perforated
The words were true and held fast
The mind is what is attacked inside
The thoughts are what turn language
.
The allegories are eternal when infinite
The tower is the wall in-between hearts
The words are held behind these so cast
The change is a subtle but a solid stone
The one people become their strangers
The doubt becomes their soul overlord
The golden calf is Almighty insecurity
.
They did not know: Bless Forgiveness
.
Once changed a tongue need not twist
Once inside, outside is never touchable
Once what is false is said to be only true
Once each truth cannot be viewed by talk
Once a tower keeps cares walkway hidden
Once allegory’s are seen as what once was
Once what I say is just what it is, because
.
Once explanations are then needed to see
Once invitations are required to truly be
Once lies become the most likely reality
Once time and space are rendered unfree
Once words are twisted into impassibility
Once hope is not cause for any compatibility
Once Babel makes one others words, insanity

04
Feb

THE LAND OF ABSTRACTION

Diversion

then deception

take claim in abstraction

it is a key to a souls control

the aim of an act obscured

closed behind intentions

we have no means

of knowing

the real

word

.

Love

and war

they are said to be

on fair playing fields

fair as in that alike way

that all of anything goes

nothing withheld out

in their completion

or competition

.

It could be said

just because we are

capable of horrible things

in the name of one or other

that we all get to visit them

free upon one another

inevitable fair

harm

.

Love

it seems able

to cause ecstasy

and extreme pain

it is odd to openly say

all must be fair about it

it may come and go now

old seemingly defeated

may be gone by neglect

without one knowing

what guarantee ever

made it fair or not

what right there

to claim it was

or was

not

?

If all is fair

in these two things

why keep fighting over

how someone else acted

what is the surprise

the issue

?

When often

when we win the prise

was it fairness in our favor

we thank the result

as fair to us

deserving

as destiny

or God

must be

on my

side

.

But

if it is loss

and now it is I

who must bare its cost

I proclaim loud and clear

someone was cheating

and must be

blamed

.

I am of the mind

to change the old saying

love should be free to be true

to be honest to what is in reality

how if not respected fully at heart

it will evaporate in truths light

enter up invisible into clouds

rain its bounty elsewhere

for it is itself,

fair

.

It was always

up to me only

to be fair with it

and to accept change

if it be by truths call

in seeming fair

or not

.

But war

with its intent

to force someone

to do something other

than what they intend

no matter whose side

more truth is on

it takes away

without care

.

There is

nothing fair

about innocence

stripped and shredded

nothing clear anywhere

about men who lay claim

to take love away by force

what was someone elses

eliciting reaction

and hates

kiss

.

Oh

how they blend in

love with passionate killing

the excitement of the chase

how romantic a pure soul

how fair an noble cause

is surely a sound case

hating for loves sake

ignoring a touch

that antimatter

annihilates

.

I see why

we think them

so alike

the pain

the broken lives

the innocence that suffers

as vanquished hearts tarry

over either word

.

But they are

of different name

love must be free

become itself same

a true bond to life

indestructible

that is the

truth of Love

when real

.

But war

the world must be

free of it and its cause

love and war are no equals

we need zero tolerance for war

it should be barred forever

it should be imprisoned

with a life sentence

never to be given

a fair hearing.

27
Jan

CHEMICAL CHANCE—–ETERNITY IN A NUTSHELL

We are under chemical directivity

they are what we are, you see

DNA winds environment and history

but to us it is a blind mystery

.

In youth the chemicals

turn our eyes into shape envy

we see things old now differently

when the spiral ladder so decrees

time for that chemical dance; 1,2,3

.

They find our signature stuffed indifferently

scattered way out in distant Milky Way seas

suitcases floating spectographic identity

islands the same as in you and me

.

Chemicals have liked to claim a soul

as in love they are able to do so easily

for how has so much exact serendipity

so much perfect compatibility

come into we to be?

.

Some might say we chemicals

are on our own doubt indefinitely

Ideas, just happening to appear to be

found near hydrogen and oxygen’s

tide bound Mother Sea.

.

We live in what we call reality

and every part would need to be

purely coincidental culpability

which seems like purest improbability

that formulas would change perfectly

with a puzzle fit to unveil this diversity

all from the same redefined energy.

.

Chemicals are typing

this tales on-line plea

vibrating string theories

quarky quantum quintessence

M-brane theory

I feel my ego head swells

with idea based encephalopathy.

.

I dream of friends

in gray simple rain

I am closer to love

when nearest to pain

I am just like you

you have your own name

but how unique are we

we do not type the same?

.

Words make us as one

but who is it to blame

when a coconut holds its future

its open shell, the rain.

25
Jan

SILENT TRESPASS

It is heard around the world

in ancient flute and shell

stretched skins and string

a sound skimming across the waters

across time

It whispers in fall winds

can be as transient as a sound

of snowflake landing on your shoulder

or come yearning as a wolfs lone howl

repeating from invisible distance

a receding train whistle

leaving the past in night echoing

some music has such a call

The composer may be

buried now beneath the city

or under a stone in a glen

yet they speak in pure feeling

the musician translates and creates

and we lose time across a membrane

the sounds bypass words inhibitions

slipping through ethereal channels

we listen and know not how

someone knows our private soul

they streetch it out in public

and they tell us of love and joy

stranded from some place we are without them

they speak in vowels of deepest pain

come and gone in eternal longing

they have seen into our lonely heart

we are left in a stunned stasis

an ambiguity of what we are

time and space and person

blur into omniscient sound

sound does have that presence

atoms carry it across a room unintentional?

while holding electron hands

in space

a meeting place

between our own ears

with many lives tucked under planks

a bridge is crossed which we never think of

a mote we know not from where

surrounds our lives on an island

kept this knowing away

yet we yearn for the visitor

it dwells in continuum’s

of sound and silence

notes that make realities fouth dimention

the known from the unknown

a stranger closer to who we are

whispers into our ears

a name

I cannot speak

.

.

.

(a poem by Benafia online)




 

July 2008
M T W T F S S
« Jun    
 123456
78910111213
14151617181920
21222324252627
28293031  

Blog Stats

  • 27,519 hits