WHY LET THEM

Why do we let them oppress us?

We are human beings, like them;

we have a head and heart and limbs, like them;

and, our hearts bleed, and our heads know honor, more than they;

and, we feel our pain and misery, as intensely....

Are we not people of good will, with inherent God given human rights?

 

 

 

A GAVID LADY

Today, I watched while a woman worked in a store.

Her hips have become broad carrying a baby, like my wife’s

all the result of our love; and, her work made her

bend and stretch, as she awkwardly placed and procured items from the shelves.

 

I offered her my assistance; and, I’ve brought her home with me,

in my thoughts. Hoping, she has enough good thing to eat and her home is nice and safe,

bright and warm, where she relaxes and rests gavid in her rotund heaviness.

And, I smile at my wife who busies herself preparing for our new arrival.

 

It is my earnest hope that the pregnant woman

who visits my home in my thoughts, will raise her child

in comfortable circumstances; so that all the children

will grow up happy, strong, and free individuals – sharing the good things of life.

 

 

 

ATHEISM

The God, who doesn’t exist

to create this wonderful universe,

where my soul engages in that great mystery – to think.

And, in the great uncharted wilderness

that is life, barren and bleak,

and filled with desolate smoldering ruins,

because God doesn’t exist.

 

The Godhead who made my soul

a verdant fertile valley.

The God, whose signature sprawls across the night sky,

who gets blamed for our folly,

and who doesn’t exist.

The God of love.

 

 

 

LIKE CAIN

Like Cain, your country’s curse scars you,

and dooms you to the foul fate of writhing worms

erupting from your navel – power perverted fools

masked hypocrisy of a funeral form!

 

Your country’s curse sears you! Justice sold,

Truth destroyed, Nature’s gifts obliterated

and fortune’s of fraudulently obtained fool’s gold

advocated loud as faith itself that foully becomes desecrated!

And, all the while slow and sure the Euminides have you in hand

watching while you inexorably destroy yourselves

while endeavoring to hurt others with your vice ridden and corrupt commands

and the nation, knocked to its knees, weeps ensnared by you and your masters.

 

Let my father’s curse stain your soul

and let your whored daughters’ shame be noted on her tomb

both crown your graying head,

as inexorably below you go.

 

I curse you, as a parent of abused children, with outrage my love sows

by hopes long held and only recently lost

by tender feelings your scarred soul will never know,

by grief which your granite heart never felt – its premature death is its cost.

 

By the brief puerile smiles of happy light

a burst of sun on a gray day, like a fire

ignited in green wood doomed soon to plunge into premature night,

dousing the promised birthright, in cold and dirty ashes they expire.

 

By practiced arts of seduction young voices already brazenly speak

which parents seek to market and where victims are corruptly framed

and those who sought the less beaten paths such as the wise teach

you beat and infuse with indoctrinated lies from the medias fabrication machine!

What sorrow and shame.

 

By all the quiet joys watching children live and learn and experience growth

the budding flower of youthful years

all who live gain their fair share of happiness and sadness, both

interwoven while you dash life’s sweetest hopes and dwell on the basest fears.

 

By all the days building barriers of impermeable ignorance, and callused indifference

instead of care,

a dull company and bitter fate constrained in a corrupt culture by an oppressive

heaviness

wretched generation robbed of Civil Rights and Liberties living for others as though

they never were

a fate more bitter than orphans, and yet not parentless!

 

By the false diet of cant you force down young lips

you poison with hatred and grotesquely prune stinting their development and bloom,

by dark bigoted creeds which the light of reason eclipse

and cover from the cradle to the gaping life long barren shallow rat infested nest that’s

their tomb!

 

By the most impious blasphemous Hell with all its foul filth and fearful terror;

by all the brief, the noxious corruption and irrational guilt

of your extortionist impostures, which chain them to your errors

that quick sand over sewers of iniquity on which your arbitrary power is built;

 

by your self-serving assistance to your master’s duplicitous lasciviousness and hate

your insatiable pathetic desire to make others more miserable than yourselves, and love

of power ages old

the redundant frauds which you iteratively hurt people with, while compelling them to

wait

on as base sycophants cringing hypocritically like a worm in dirt and filth you’ve grown

old;

 

by your arrogant parade of vices (like emperor’s clothes) pretended as though virtue, an

object of derision you deserve a pathetic smile,

by all the foul deceitful arts and perverted sciences you substitute for ability and

wallow in iniquities’ black den,

and - for a cause so hypocritically corrupt it can out cry a crocodile

and delude itself with its own false tears, which serve as milestones grinding all the

freedom and humanity out of men.

 

By all the hate which you’ve created from a perverted parent’s love,

by all the ridicule which tour actions generate and that substitute for a parent’s care,

by all the iniquities your hands produce when you dared remove

time honored Truths – reversing civilization’s broad steady stream, you with flags flying

leading us on to despair;

 

and, the grief which causes parents to groan

for their children’s fates that are no longer theirs but only the reflected vanity of bored

old fatuous fools who would be masters of all mankind;

the blood that courses through the child’s veins may be the parent’s own,

but the hate rotted souls polluted by your foul calumnious deeds isn’t, which reduces

them to the level of swine;

 

I curse you – and all that you do; but, I do not hate you – oh slaves of slaves !

You who’ve turned our Earthly Paradise into your earned personal Hell!

What worse fate could happen to you:

you, I pity!?!

 

 

 

LOVING LIGHT

What happened to the light

leaping across the walls,

burning bright from the fire of desire?

 

The lights are all extinguished

plunging the house into darkness,

is this to be the fate of my heart, too?

It would be better far to never have lived!

 

Misery is a special deliverer,

who comes knocking at my door;

his message is our masters are awake,

and, they demand your bodies love through the dark night.

 

The sky sags with glowering clouds,

and in a steady heavy downpour, the rains fall endlessly.

I don’t know what this is that stirs inside of me?

 

An instantaneous flash harshly illuminates everything

before brutally pulling all that I see down

into a deep well of darkness.

 

My heart blindly gropes along a path,

writhing torturously in the inky black,

toward where the night’s pulsating rhythms

irresistibly call to me.

 

What happened to the light?

Call out the power company

and light up my heart

that it might see, the object of its desire!

 

A blinding crack of lightning thunders next to me,

and the wind startled awake, rushes off screaming

through the abyss of eternity.

The night is black as the rain drenched street.

 

Time is stopped dead,

and the hours stand frozen in the dark.

Light up Liberty’s torch, and flood my life with the Truth of its loving light!

 

NO HOPE

Toiling hard beneath the sun

they give their best each one,

but reduced to wretched states are the working poor,

where misery lurks behind every rented door.

People shop at second hand stores free choice is reduced to being

given a choice of either having enough to eat

or living in homes without any heat

many feed their families and then go stand in line for a free hot meal

having to work over 60 hours a week

emaciated expressions eloquently speak

and advertising that worships affluence makes their lives seem like defeat.

Besides, hunger in homes without any heat

make sickness what many people reap;

and, foolish unjust bankruptcy laws make their inevitable ruin complete.

We labor forever in their factories, cities, and fields

never able to struggle out from under their well dressed heels

afflicted with want till our deprivation is a living curse

our families constantly hungry, our children always cry out with thirst.

With dwindling wages we’ll never accomplish the feat

of learning the trick of earning enough to eat;

and, with a fence built on our southern border, nothing else

but corrupt slaves are supposed to be allowed in and even less;

for with only exploiting policies that oppress

it’s the only way they can manage to keep good people suppressed.

Those who can’t earn a living wage

become base sycophants or vice ridden slaves;

who lives under those terms as either tormented or tormentor,

cannot be free from pain and woe

and, so let the entire World know:

This is what has happened to the oldest Democracy,

faction continues to grow rich, standing on everyone else’s throats;

and the only great thing that happens to us is our despair,

but, they continue, vice ridden and corrupt, their usual fare!

And, the masters of the land are the slaves of tyranny,

while we’re reduced to work both night and day as wage slaves.

And, if you dare to disagree it’s a sure bet

then your sadistically tortured, or subjected to starvation as a threat

and so there is no virtue and no Truth where the best are beaten by the craven,

so people continue working growing poorer,

and no one dares to stop in a land with no hope!

 

 

 

 

DEEP WIND

Portland, I know your temperance

nestled in the Willamette Valley, besides your rivers

where the forgotten native gods slumber in the fertile fields that lie fallow,

today you ambushed me

impaling my heart.

 

I hike the West Hills’ broad backs

cloaked in trees communing with the wind,

and my ebullient good company

floats far off on cool currents,

of the city’s thousands of tongues;

and, you fast friend and passionate lover,

you who I experienced Faustian apprehension and wisdom,

you who traveled Odyssian sojourns

through labyrinths of shadows and silences

sanctuaries of Nature’s aesthetic treasures

and arduous Promethean tasks

among tombstone cities inhabited by dead souls.

 

To you who are impervious

to the earth’s treachery and deceit,

where each day I sink

soiled by its filth, and nurture deep secret syntaxes:

neon lights undress you

leaving you naked as leafless autumn trees,

through your shuttered windows

under your nocturnal gowns,

and feeling the comfort of your soft warm body

reposing beside me provides solace,

as we nestle embedded in the darkness of these stupid times.

 

Harsh are the sadistic norms

that exile us in isolation,

as my quest for a personal Renaissance

that continues in you transforms today

into a thing of balanced beauty,

where beneath their needless paranoia and illusionary fears

love is formed into a mirror,

whose imperfections warp it into noxious hate

that in sinister silence

blindly gropes in the gaping dark;

and where, self-important brutal bastards give us wormwood to eat.

 

Portland, picturesque and free please return

to the time before they decorated your bridges

with dangling bodies of despair;

sweet friend wake me

that from seven colorful stones I rise serenely skyward

bravely before those whose impregnable ignorance

keeps you chained inside their open cages,

and, who have no idea of the innocent beautiful wonder

towards which the deep wind carries me.

 

 

 

ALL THIS I AM

As the Autumn leaf scuds down the street

deserted at gloomy midnight,

with damp decay denoting death

straying in the stodgy silence.

 

A wave the wind builds mountain high

before driving it as if a vehicle

across the sea’s pathless surface

not knowing on what distant shore resides its fate.

 

A light extinguished on the valley floor,

not aware of the trembling ring of illumination

hurtling out into the dark planes of obscurity

where it finally in an ephemeral instant disappears in eternities embrace,

 

All of these am I, the world weary wanderer,

whose brain contains so many infinite universes,

and, where so many beautiful startling realities reside,

which arrive from places unknown and depart to similar destinations.

 

 

THE DARK AGES

In the dark ages

of cold cells and damp castles,

of barb’s fables like Ariosto Furioso,

saints suffered persecution without divine intervention

and iron fisted kings held whatever they could

grasp by nonmajestic means.

 

But, by such obtuse abuses

that eloquently express spite and hypocrisy

iron boots and the rack: kept well heeled peasants

chained by ignorance and tied faithfully to the mannor;

till one beggar lead thousands of poor children on a people’s crusade,

and visited unconquered countries on their way to the city of God and the promised land.

 

The fruit of the febrile pen of Augustine

before Bernard banished Abelard, and impressed reason with its mistakes;

self-flagellated flesh, fasts, and horse hair shirts fashioned the way to Heaven,

among the filth and lice of Brugel’s impoverished peasants

who patiently bore their myriad maladies;

till ideas from ancient libraries and products from foreign lands came trickling through

the red stained sluices.

 

While Marco Polo met Kublai Khan and Saracens lead by a sagacious kurd named

Saladin,

wisely deflected political foes and helped his prospects with a jehad,

while trade continued with Omyiad Spain and Abassid Sicily and Italian city states

circumventing mighty Constantinople;

this adventurer was a philosopher-king who watched while Norman vigor redesigned

Europe.

It was a time when a man could serve his faith and see the World

and by murder, pillage, and plunder open a pilgrim’s path to salvation.

 

Still, later day savants, after bridges built forged civilization, raised cities, and spread

epidemics,

smiling at the duplicitous self-serving behavior

subjugated their own dichotomous world,

blasphemously bifurcating it into the saved true believer (them) and the damned foe:

never grasping as their rough spoken forefather’s had that to gain the world

meant losing one’s soul; and so, be satisfied cultivating oneself.

Satin laughs at all our empty vanity driven desires.

 

 

 

MIDNIGHT’S STILLBORN BIRTH

Your hand rests heavy on my heart, Night,

it weighs ponderously on my brow.

They lay cold and damp oppressing everything

fogging my window till all seems subtly strange somehow.

 

My woman is a pearl, she’s fair as the full moon,

wrapped in a veil of clouds,

invisible from the black opacity;

she shimmers dancing like the spindles caste from street lights,

 

pulsating with the nocturnal rhythms on its agitated waves;

and, I stand, turgid with the immensity of my foreboding.

Pulsating with my red sap suffusing through sinews to my root souled feet,

Night you melt in adumbrate shadows

 

that rain soggy colored leaves,

which clog drains in varying states of dank decay;

till baptized in your cold absolution with my pain,

I confront the concealed malevolence congealed behind your blank faceless presence

and the leprous gray walls.

 

Nestle me, ensconced in your brooding silence,

from your brood of Night children spawned in the dark.

Their wet icy chill penetrates and freezes to the marrows of my bones,

as I witness another midnight’s stillborn birth.

 

 

 

DISINTEGRATING LIES

The soggy Oregonian lies disintegrating,

a derelict harried by the wind, it shivers beside parallel Railroad tracks

the rattle of barren limbs heralds the arrival of Autumn,

a gray cacophony rebounds from wet tarmac and blotchy concrete.

 

How I love the rain muted sounds of the city stirring awake,

the sounds of bitter desolation but continuing intuitive struggle,

which for a long while mask their utter futility

aside from my own steady syncopated footfall that marks my heavy tread beside the busy

street.

 

Only a wren understands the ethereal delights of the wastelands

perched on a splinter of a black creosote tie,

gazing at the apparent paradox of the converging parallel rusting ties,

compressed rocks randomly measure infinity and the occasional discarded iron pin.

 

River traffic reverberates its sibilant syllables

this plastic shape epitomizes turbulence, as the wind batters chaotically

and boats bifurcate its mirror surface, while presenting

various lessons on fractals and time in the presence of rust.

 

An abandoned boat rests up on a bank

dilapidated beyond repair it now plies the grass

that breaks upon its bow of no further use

besides as an exhausted metaphor for a passing poet;

it too will be buried asphalted over for fashionable multi-purpose development.

 

The grim grimace of concrete, steel, and glass as the blind windows

reflect the gray skies a mute silent audience solemn witness laconic, lacunic spaces,

to the oblivious bustling crowds bawling below through chute streets.

Slowly, another pattern beats, as a weed flowers on a sea of tarmac

 

and brambles sprout in the concrete, a rustle furtively small sound embeds itself in the

dull roar of white noise.

and damp fur darts down a drain, inconspicuous as the soul

in the surging tide of humanity coursing between buildings,

as the wren flits from neon sign to street light and wonders appalled at this barren place.

 

 

 

 

AN AUTUMN SKY

You are an Autumn sky, drearily drained of colors....

and sadness rises inside of me like the pale evening mists,

reflecting from my somber face, as it departs,

leaving a bitter burning aftertaste of all it still misses.

 

Over my prostrate breast your fingers probe,

in a futile gentile search! My chest is a gaping pit

ravaged by the spiteful hate and vicious malice of fanatics – so it goes.

Don’t search for my heart, the wolves have devoured it!

 

My heart is an empty home that’s been plundered,

by the pack of brutal beasts, where they’ve engorged, and rent, and murdered,

a scent from the gore staining their naked claws and crimson mouths.

 

Your beauty is a strong balm for my soul, it soothes along with your nurturing kindness;

solace emanates from your sweet limpid eyes, they shine like lovely silver reflections,

in stark contrast to the tattered strands of flesh they reflect that are the careless rejects of

the vicious wolves recent repast.

 

 

 

 

The ideas presented and developed in the following essays and discourses are the opinions of its author.

 

RUMOR MILL

 

NATIONAL NEWS: (joke)

A curious rumor is being whispered around Washington DC. A movement is a foot inside the beltway to install auditory devices in all public toilets in the nation’s capitol that play “Hail to the Chief” every time someone flushes the toilet after heeding nature’s call.

 

FBI DILEMMA: (joke)

The FBI has a problem, every time the Republican puppet-president George Bush Jr. takes another vacation in Texas, the FBI agents have to try and decide which horse’s ass to protect. This costs US tax payers’ extra money, because more manpower is required. However, the bureau disclosed that there is a positive element to the dilemma, and it’s that any potential terrorist threat will have to try and select the right horse’s ass, too. The last component confronting the FBI problem - that’s a mixed blessing for the nation – is as follows, one of the reasons George Jr. has been spending so much time down home in Texas is that once he’s there the FBI can’t tell which horse’s ass to bring back to Washington DC. Oh well, we all have our problems.

 

STATE ELECTIONS: (serious)

The curious state of affairs in Oregon.

The radical right Republican Party is offering the majority of Oregon children in the state’s largest school district an inferior education at greater costs to the tax paying public – again!

Running for the state’s highest elected office, Governor, is a Republican candidate who represents what the Republican Party has come to offer the good citizens of this fine state – incompetence. The Republican Party took the former superintendent for the state’s largest school district, a supposedly nonpolitical office, and ran him for governor. This enabled the Republican Party to establish name recognition for their candidate in the leading Democratic district. The arrogance of this act is astounding! First, they believe that voters won’t remember his incompetent record, and they believe that the Republicans can buy the governor’s office by massive campaign contributions. Why? The rest of the state will not be privy to the fact that the Republican Party candidate has a public record of incompetence and failure, and the people of Portland won’t remember who the former school district superintendent was, let alone the fact that the big spending Republican over spent his budget by a million dollars and had to be bailed out by the city of Portland. Second, it’s George Bush Jr. our Emperor puppet-president all over, imagine the folly of advocating as candidate for governor, a much bigger job than a school district superintendent, a person who can’t competently run a school district, without having to be bailed out to the tune of over $1,000,000 public tax payer dollars. If the Republican can’t run a school district, then how is he going to successfully manage the state, a much bigger job? The huge campaign war chest that’s been given to his candidacy comes with strings attached and it is made necessary in order to overcome another dismal Republican record of incompetence and failure. Third, inversely, the Republican’s massive campaign war chest wouldn’t be necessary if they had a successful record to run on, which means the Republican Party will probably be fundamentally dishonest, and it will lie to the American public, just like during the last national elections when we watched national public debates when all the Republicans did was lie for over six solid hours without ever speaking the Truth. Fourth, the Republican candidate’s record, as school district superintendent, sycophantically followed the radical right faction Republican education model of the last ten years, which advocates a superior education for a select few while the overwhelming majority of Oregon children get left behind with inferior educations. The Republican Party has changed the name from Charter schools to Magma schools and minimally altered the structure from two tiers to three theirs in order to disguise the fact that it is fundamentally the same inferior education format that voters have been rejecting again and again all across the nation for over the last ten years. It has a multi-tiered (3 oh how creative) education system in stead of the previous two, and the Republican Party herald it as Magma schools instead of the old Charter schools. But, a few students will receive the benefit of being educated by Magma schools while the majority of students are stuck with inferior educations. If Magma Schools are superior, then let all our children receive the same beneficial educations! The fact is different people develop at different rates, and society will receive many future dividends from late developing individuals who being adequately educated won’t be dead ended as unproductive citizens for the rest of their lives.

The bottom line is Oregon voters are being asked to pay more tax dollars for giving the majority of children inferior educations! Why? It provides cheap labor and docile ignorant citizens, who are under educated hence easier to manipulate and control, and with lower expectations the 80% majority are more easily satisfied with a Third World Labor standard of living; and also, it provides the right wing faction businesses with the necessary 20% of the population trained as technocrats, to look after the right wing interests that they need to optimize their projected profits on their economic computer models. After over a decade of repeated rejections the radical right Republicans are trying to be sneaky this time around, with a new name, altering the number of tiers by adding one more lower level, and here locally they’ve tried to distract the public by closing over 30 neighborhood schools. The thinking is if you throw a lot of distractions at the public they won’t be able to keep track of everything and the good citizens will not notice how badly they are being had – again! Or, would it be more accurate to say – still!

After 25 years of nothing but failure from the radical right Republican Revolution, the radical right faction Republican Party has learned nothing. They view government as a means of making a lot of money, by making government exclusively serve the selfish interests of right wing faction, and function as a conduit from the pockets of the American public to the private accounts of a very wealthy few. This is an exploitive model of government. Meanwhile, the majority of Democrats, in their pluralistic national party, view government traditionally, as being a composite of multifaceted interests; a government by the people for the people, which serves people rather than special interests; and, it doesn’t perceive government as an inferior substitute for legitimate business, but it views government as an effective means to promote programs that benefit all classes of society and pursue policies that develop the nation’s resources, which includes all of its people. We’ve heard a lot about moving on, but with the radical right Republicans it’s nothing but the same deceitful fraud, worn out coercion, and tired vices that have resulted in years of incompetence and corrupt failure!