today I saw a 3-D pen…

..and, as such, considered

the fact

or would it be

notion

of suicide

 

Not just

BY THOSE OF MY

generation

but by

pen

sharp object

despair

death sentence

 

 

Here I am

not exactly

 woman, hear me roar

everything verifiable is intuitive, and 
there will be time for bad things to happen

THE BOTS READ IN CYRILLIC

HER NEMESIS

 

anti-TRUTH,

anti-BEAUTY

KEATS

 ETERNAL

QUOTIENT

 QUI

Continue reading “today I saw a 3-D pen…”

9 muses 9 lines

9 muses 

Epic poetry – Poet laureate – as if maya Angelou read the song of myself   But As everyone together imagine-

Music – Lyric poetry – voice of angels

Healing arts – dynamic  exchange, science quantum physics

All-encompassing  species survival

Painting – Sculpture – Film and Photography

Performance Dance  theater installation

Storytelling – cave painting – chronicles of humanity

public architecture – collective space

Tragedy and Comedy actors writers giving experience meaning

muse of collaboration  directors and conductors  🙌🏼 Those who fuse the ones who lead  living energy

creativity as  not just talent or   none At all

the final

the muse of alchemy

 

in 9 sec

 

 

anesthetize don’t agonize


And so

It was

With great

Abandon that

She ruled

The world

 



where chaos unfolds

It’s hard to know why you live


III – THE end painting “OBEY”

Our Fathers

There was no greater champion, no more exasperating argumenteur, there is no way to explain how my father’s death has effected me. 


He never handled injury or sickness well, being a doctor. But even the way he came to be a physician was unconventional, and so his par·si·mo·ni·ous nature was often misunderstood as a deficient joie de vive. Nothing could’ve been further from the truth.

He once up·braided me for buying a bottle of water, which I justified explaining I only sprung for one every two weeks or so once the plastic seemed done in, you could tell by the stink. 

While clearly unmoved by the factual details, he seemed in theory to relent to the logic of setting one’s penurious priorities. 

We weren’t related, a point his parents were sure to bring up every chance they got. The bastard child is a phrase I got used to, much to the chagrin of everyone else who was neither adopted nor bastard. How often the topics of my experience were simply off limits – from the abuse (not by my father but he could not discuss it even tho he acknowledged my pain) – I was told, simply, to get over it.

Just get over it.


The problem with rape, assault, incest, abuse and harassment is-no one wants to hear about it. 
So there you are, dissociative disorder in hand, on the receiving end of hand-me-down dysfunction whereby you are told if you say a word, no one will believe you… And you will be sent back.


Sent back – where?

adopted

A dirty word 

-but not from him. Who, on Sunday mornings, would turn to me and say I couldn’t go in to daisy’s cage today, she was not in the mood. And there I’d stand with my vanilla wafers for our recovering raccoon, while my father, the zoologist-radiologist went in… 


#metoo is not about my father but what he had to reconcile – he could not and did not protect me from a predator within four walls….



Wildfires 

I looked up to see the fires burning coming down the hill facing my father seated at his bay window looking out over the life he built, a life he gave his children, the future of our children, an American Dream bought of Italian immigrants to carrying the great Italian grapes to the fertile fecund Northern California. 
Ironic iconic RUSSIAN River valley, expanding into Napa with his French brother in arms Jean-luc purveyor of the finest Boudreaux and Michelangelo the Pinot Grigio man – all  had fought alongside hemingways kind against Franco’s fascist rollover planned  as comeuppance for the empires and their colonies. 

 

 Once they’d killed ghandi in prison, beat Biko to death, sequestered the master and the margarita, they turned to the inominable agenda of squelched free speech and disarming the right of patriots like Nathan hale or Paul revere so that no one can defend that right to free speech when the military declares martial law, fema initiates operation mass grave keeps only soldiers and those with bank accounts as need be only should the entity called government and its partner in crime corporate greed, Rothschild illuminati infiltrating your DNA to sell off to the bad aliens aka fallen angels they now say wiped out the Neanderthals who told,us in those rock walls underground k. France 

Look up the French resistance 


Don’t forget to read the lover and there’s Racine 

Watch Truffaut Jules and Jim and Godard weekend 

Read now Thomas Jefferson and Lafayette were friends 


Read a tale of two cities by dickens 

Take up knitting 

Listen to kind of blue, in a silent way and miles-Coltrane collaboration s 
See you next week 

Ps hunter s Thompson essays due Tuesday morning 8 am PST

FEAR AND LOATHING UPDATED 

YOUR PROFESSOR 

GURU OF UNSCRIPTED ZEITGEIST 

…with your wild furies..

Now, rich order of walls is fallen…

This is one of three poems to perfectly describe the breakdown of a marriage – the others will be revealed in forthcoming dispatches from the subterranean reaches of the soul land, a dream space no one can inhabit for long and can never satisfactorily convey when back “in reality.” The dream time where we know what will happen but wake up as if we had not seen, heard or felt the warning signs dissuaded by mass groupthink, the hive mind will transform you more than you think, sitting atop your throne whichever one you sequester and call yours alone – when many have sacrificed to put you there.

The conversation is in silence
Confessions on a rainy alter
She jumps
He is pushed

So this is what happened…

I was almost killed, nearly.beaten to death in a McDonald’s parking lot in February of this year. This violent assault  resulted in brain trauma and amnesia  and as such. White memorial hospital really fucked up – but that’s a whole nother story 

Then the city terrace chop shop experience.

And my wonderful nonexistent friends – in this city that is. The subpar producers whose jobs I protected and mortgages I assisted the payment of – as I endured slander that didn’t even have the balls to say it to my face. And anyone who knows me which is turning be under 5 maybe including ducks and dogs, anyone knows there’s no way I could have accomplished all the things of which I stand accused- from the pile of cocaine like scarface to the Keith Richards consumption of inebriants apparently chronicled by Dave Oliver and Justin Steinberg who actually are complete liars who were also malicious for some reason. Then there’s the complete scumbags jay and Jamie who just boggle the mind when you realize they went out of their way to hurt me never once show compassion or comraderie I. A world sorely needing some basic acknowledge that being In the trenches mattered.

To think I was such a fool I actually cared that I had your back Jamie when you were incompetent, sniveling and under-handed. Hard working but weak minded. Kiss ass who couldn’t accept loyalty and friendship how sad. How telling that he’s still head of Sony prodding and poking the zeitgeist for some clue as to why they think he knows what he’s doing. On top of being stupid, to have no morals is well that’s the course of de jour. [idiotic repetition intentional] 
So there you have it 

This was during the time 

This weekday was your average forgettable day until That sound, unforgettable now but so nondescript at the time.

Time, our fatal flaws realized in a mirror, faded paper mocked up words from olden times that don’t much matter anymore with gender reassignment, biased reporting and single payer death mill. Is it me or are there more pharmaceutical company ads than ever before….

In silence, make the command, “Creator of All That Is, it is commanded that the activation of the youth and vitality chromosomes of (your name) take place on this day. Thank you! It is done. It is done. It is done. Show me the master cell in the pineal gland.”


Are you there pineal gland, it’s me Margaret? 

Sunday Morning worship at Secret Bonita Gardens 

In silence, make the command, “Creator of All That Is, it is commanded that the activation of the youth and vitality chromosomes of (dee dilly dumpling) take place on this day. 


…Thank you! It is done. It is done. It is done. Show me the master cell in the pineal gland.”

The best part  is I have no idea the source of this prayer…but it seems fitting for this gorgeous Pasadena day.


Try to observe in your imagination the Virtual DNA Strands stacking in pairs on top of each other with a telomere cap (chromosome tips) 

at the ends. 


Sometimes this happens so fast, that you may have to ask the Creator for a replay later.



Are you there chromosome, it’s me Margaret?

Namaste

The desire to continue

The need to breathe
The reconciliation and remorse
Acceptance and
a more perfect
union
The fluke
this thing we
Suffer

Pain 

Pain arrives, BANG, and there it is, it sits on you. It’s real. And to anybody watching, you look foolish. Like you’ve suddenly become an idiot. 
-bukowski