Your battle already won

Attack like the fire

And be still as a

Mountain

Funny girl

Funny, I never thought of a machine as “being.”

The end was in sight.

Shelley be damned

Ozymandius had won

in the end.

Not knowing

Not knowing or not being aware

are so different

from

your not wanting to know

We began with a word

Fulsome, remember blue

It has a certain hue

Like Violet’s on a mother’s grave

A nestling of peace 

Among the ruins 

Death knell long since left 

Leaving only the living 

Bag of bones

Bag of bones 

Ain’t nobody 

Tell ya yoha bagobonz


Was that  word
 

wonder 

or was it fear?
 

yearning 

r God or love for our kin? Where you stand on this shows a lot about how we seem to devolve as a species rather than experience the maximum awareness, pursue the purest consciousness, save mankind from inevitable external destruction – prepare for that
instead of constant cock fights putting every living thing on this glorious planet in jeopardy over what? N Korea brainwashes its people in a different way than “America.” We are beyond that in some ways and yet beholden to this God-forsaken desertscape
We once thought decent
Believed was Good, innately
Cherished certain values after we thought the massive divisions after ww2 when we didn’t have so much attitude coming off of the Great Depression.

Yet here we are
Handed this god-damn mess
Well what if we don’t want it
Why do we have this bullshit happening now or nothing at all?

Are we happier as sheep? Get it over with already I say or hand us or swords and give us our daily rations of bread and water. This daily bile turning to nuclear holocaust is so fucking ridiculous I can’t believe I’m witnessing it – it’s like half the idiots can’t read so they forgot all of history including a few years ago, they want a cult leader they got one; the other half bemoans some fucking magical time when everything was apparently so great that it ended up in this steamroll of shit we have now. Hypocrisy, corruption, dishonesty and just pure disgrace populate the chambers and halls of “governance” we gave ourselves over to in the name of the values printed on our dirty money.

It sucks being Rome in the fall of the Roman Empire doesn’t it?

The Masters of War had Ventriloquists

It wasn’t even winter yet, as autumn held her ground. Weaker men were torn asunder as angels prevailed where blind men feared to speak. You could not fess up nor deny, those wild werewolf times 

Where wolvens roamed the crest like crazy heathcliff

Heather of Moorland Farms befriended the mysterious Maxine. Who wore clogs. A cord skirt. Long straight hair like Marcia Brady but a sway like West Side Story.
The colors of the continent were committed to a shell of their former shelves – the Russian tea cozy. Sore spot of etiquette.

I wasn’t proud when I said my family was like Prince of tides just alarmed 

 

“Those who hammer their guns into plowshares will plow for those who do not.” Thomas Jefferson, President of the United States, Founder of the University of Virginia, the one slave owner of the group who was unanimously asked to write the preamble for the Constitution, known as the Declaration of Independence. 
Now You may ask how could a slave owner write such beautiful words as we the people 

In order to form a more perfect union 

ESTABLISH JUSTICE

INSURE DOMESTIC TRANQUILITY

PROVIDE FOR THE COMMON DEFENCE 

PROMOTE GENERAL WELFARE 

AND 

SECURE 

THE BLESSINGS OF

LIBERTY TO OURSELVES

and our Posterity…


Our children 

The seventh generation 

The future

Certainly no one wants to witness nuclear fallout. Not from a bunker not from an underground silo, middleman earth safe house for world leaders and cryogenic windbags. I’d rather we be taken out by that thing on the other side of the sun than the flash we’ve all dreaded since watching the day after  on a school night in 1983.

All religions, from tribal to tome, have the POV of a God looking at man as if in a mirror.

Not the least of which 

Means there is more. 

Whether you want it or not. 
I forgot what was important and in the forgetting wonder if it’s less important or if I am just failing in some way to grasp the weight of how important it is to remember everything important.
Like a notification telling you that your package has shipped. A letter telling you that you are being investigated by the authorities. A ring around the full moon, drifting, so that you wonder if you are the only one who sees that. 

Today in history 

I wake up thinking I miss those days as the now-wild parrots make their flight across the Pasadena sky.

Then, with faint tv news in background, I think of the news those good old days held and how just like me, my parents went through the day with a great deal of anxiety.

Now, to survive and thrive, those are the hard things. The easy thing is to not make others suffer for your feelings. To try to force some change in perspective to adjust the out of wack world, if that change is in your own head. You can think one thing that will not make this headache from the head injury of last night (more dangerous after near fatal beating in February) go away but could help with that breakthrough of getting through the day and somehow not just floundering.
1972. The news. Not so good. Depending on the fate, the date and the late breaking story.