Saturday, March 23, 2013

Lust

One winter’s day
Kids were being kids
In a colorful classroom,
When blood suddenly blossomed on the walls.


A moment that struck fear
Into the heart of a fetishist
Who had been stroking
His semiautomatic
Baby.

He sputtered to his defense of
His right to own weapons of mass deliciousness;
Blood licking down the barrel
Of his impotence.

One winter’s day
The chatter of children
Was silenced by the clatter
In the head of a death skull
Aiming for glory.

A moment that struck terror
In the hearts of the gun clan,
Who squealed like hysterical pigs in the killing crate
At the thought of losing
An hour’s retail profit.

Now, someday a Herod
Will reap innocent lives
By the heaps, useless and uncounted
And the nation will die.

A moment that will be excused
As the price of a Right, divine and unalterable
Which is the only one worth respecting.
So shut up, and keep your
Shaven head down.



















Wednesday, March 20, 2013

Pondering TJ Lane


What can I think
Or feel
When I see your terrible
Sneer, your raised finger
Defiance of life
And what we call decency.

Where is one thing human?
And yet,
I must reflect
On men in important houses
Who order death casually
For thousands and millions
With sneers and a raised finger
In the face of us all.

And wherein is anything
From their livered lips
Not a defiance of life?

Where is their sentence,
their prison?


Oh, human child
Who destroyed,
As a bee creates it’s own death
When it stings
Your own life.
I see your ugly eyes reflecting back
The generals, the goons, the presidents
The cold stares of noted dictators
The bloody hand of our dark nature,

And I ask myself
(for this is not a polite subject)
Are you, after all,

The venom
Still pumping through
The detached lancet
Ripped from our
Once innocent bodies?





























Why I Don't Shop at Whole Foods

From MSN.com: "Whole Foods CEO John Mackey told NPR that Obamacare is like "fascism." Of course, Mackey is welcome to his views -- but with a product line that seems so obviously aimed at those on the left, was saying so good for his shareholders? "It's hard to believe anyone who is intelligent would refer to Obamacare as fascism," says Corn, both because it's not a great analogy and because it risks alienating those core customers.
Indeed, Whole Foods customers were infuriated, and some boycotted, though the impact on sales remains unclear.
It's not the first time Mackey's conservative politics have rattled his customers' liberal sensibilities. He's also likened unions to herpes, stating: "It doesn't kill you, but it's unpleasant and inconvenient, and it stops a lot of people from becoming your lover," according to this New Yorker report. "


I may be a Vegan but I'm not stupid. I haven't shopped at Whole Foods for years. ever since I first heard about Mackey's politics. He's been anti-union for decades. If you can, I suggest you use all that money you spend at WF at your local grocery or Co-op, if one is available.

Sunday, March 17, 2013

Teacher, Dear








Teacher, dear
I'm sorry I acted up in class today.
(No, I'm not sorry.)
Home is not a safe place
it's where the beatings happen,
so I had to        lose my mind...


Teacher dear,
I'm sorry I came to school drunk today.
(though I really don't care.)
Father keeps forcing sex on me,
and he says that I'm a slut,
so I had to       drown my mind
(to stay alive).

Teacher, dear,
I'm sorry that I couldn't stay awake in class today.
(I'm so tired...)
With mother gone to work all night
someone has to watch the others,
and my voice stuck deep
inside my throat     won't let me say.

I wish you knew!
But the fear I hold inside
paralyzes        everything.
And I wish I could die...


Somehow, it isn't right,
that rage and sadness are the only things
left in me;
rage and sadness, hidden tears...
I'm only trying           
to numb the pain.

Teacher, dear,
I'm sorry, but I'll probably fail in your class, this year.
Education is a burden,
and home is not the safest place it ought to be,
it's a hidden world       of misery and hate
and degradation.


So, shut your mouth!
How would you know
anything I'm going through?
The places I am bleeding from
the damage that's been done...
How would you know,


how would you know?


Oh, Teacher, dear
don't keep me here
don't hold me close      I want to go...
just let me go,

oh,
just let me go...
























Saturday, March 16, 2013

Simon's Last Thoughts



Still from The Lord of the Flies (1962) Simon: Tom Gaman





In quiet times
Way down here




I realize there’s nothing left for me.




I will melt
Like a starfish in the sea




And nothing will be left of me.









Its just too late
The sun has become a fearsome thing
And the devil has more than his due.









In quiet times
Way down in here
I hear the voices of the radiant
and innocent


Asking why did so many millions have to die?




What did freedom mean?




Like a starfish in the sea
Do I know the end of me?









It’s getting late
The sun has become a fearsome thing
Anyway, it’s time to be getting home.









In ugly times
Way down in here


I realize we never really found the way.




Why did you say
That God or Christ ever went away




So the Devil could lead us all astray.









It’s in your books
It’s in your church

Lying like dust upon the altar there.

All around, and up your nose
And settling on the statue’s frozen pose.


So to sin they had to clear the good away.









It’s gotten late
And the sun is setting on a hopeless scene
There is no rock on which to lean.









And all the light
Which illuminates the golden things
Are just reflections from the fire
That we built because…


Well, just because.









It’s just too late
We don’t deserve to be here, anymore
And anyway I’m tired and want for nothing more.


I’m getting tired…





























Thursday, March 7, 2013

Beasts


 "As long as there are slaughterhouses there will be battlefields." -- Leo Tolstoy


 

Beasts

 

In the old black and white movies

the aliens were heartless and cruel.

They didn’t care

about me and you,

they just wanted what they wanted

and if you got in their way, you were food.

 

At the table that night we laughed

relieved that it wasn’t all true

and ate every bite of beef stew.

 

Oh, the killing places have thick walls

and the battlefields are so far away

nothing touches us,

nothing gets in the way

of a good time…

 

We watch movies from the old war

and see what the fascists had done,

the camps and the cages

gas chambers and ovens

and nausea grips us, their evil appalls;

if you got in the way, you were meat

rot that just got thrown away.

 

And, when bullets ripped through the classroom

when innocent first-graders died

we gasped in horror at the evening news

“what is wrong with our country?”

and tore the legs off a carcass to feed.

No, nothing gets in the way,

not compassion and not common sense,

of a good time.

 

No, we don’t want to see

seared beaks and cramped cages,

cattle who struggle and dangle

by their legs as they’re bled;

dolphins who die drowned in blood

the screams of their young in their ears…

 

 

 

 

The holocaust of everyday:

They’re put on a track to die

Life is all horror and misery

Not a flicker of hope in their eyes

Until throats are cut and they’re bled

if they’re lucky.

 

The great wheel turns again

Relentlessly grinding our humanity down

We don’t want to see the cost

The stench in the air that kills us.

 

We should have everything that we want

fast food, cancer, diabetes

dead skin to put on our feet

a heart attack where we lie on the couch

watching death on the evening news.

Nothing gets in the way

of our good time.

 

No, there are no glamorous vampires.

There are monsters in many ways;

waters that flow with bacteria

wars rolling forever, like blood;

the din of agonized dying,

the laughter and cheers at the game

where a beautiful creature must die

slowly

degraded, alone.

 

No, there’s nothing we won’t to do

No matter how ugly and cruel,

Because nothing will get in the way

of our good time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Saturday, March 2, 2013

Where To Look


 

 

“My mentor, Gottfried Muller once said to me, “Thomas, do you want to know how to look into the eyes of God?’

‘Of Course!’ I answered.

‘Then look into the eyes of any other living thing,’ he said.”

--Thom Hartmann “The Last Days Of Ancient Sunlight”

 

 

Yes, I’d grown cynical

Lived a life so long wherein

I searched for Him

In every church

in temple and mosque

Read a thousand tales

In a thousand books

Sank my mind

Into the lost valleys

Of philosophies, of physics theories

Trying to catch a glimpse of Him

Through lenses, windows

The bottom of a glass

And in the winds

Of lysergic journeys

Fell long distances

Rose to vaporless vacuums 

Sat cross-legged under sweet trees

Humming the Mandala of Om

Counting breaths, searching Yarrow stems

Laying prostrate on red rock mesas

Beseeching the curtain be parted

And peace be granted

To my groping heart.

 

I’d grown cynical,

Starved, fruitless and weak

Spirit parched

Past all love, I thought

Until

One day I turned to gaze

Into the eyes of

Another being

And that’s where I found Him,

Staring back at me.