<

Irises

Mockingbird



                                BANG
        Bang and I'm off, out of the house and into my car, down the road, on my way to
work, regular as the ticking of the clock five days a week.  Year in and year
out, its the same, first to work and then home just in time to get the kids to
either sports practice or music lessons.  After dinner its check the homework,
help clean up and collapse into my easy chair; and, then, shower and tumble into
bed.  The day's significance marked by a stack of opened mail, a sprig of
flowers and a small pile of dirty laundry.
        Until, today at twilight, when coming out of my house I ran into someone who
was just going in.  It was me.  We looked at each other with some surprise.
Slightly shaken, I made my way to the car and looking back, past the purple
poignancy of lilacs blooming, proceeded down the street.  The evening air was
filled with the silence of sleeping song birds.  Musical notes were being
plucked by a fine light rain, as my car, driven by my wife, floated serenely
above the street at tree top, and, we eased our way into the mysterious beauty
of Friday night.
 

        WITH EVENING
With evening descending
I stand on our porch,
the colors quietly flow past me
from the sky into our house.
I am imbeded
in the gathering darkness,
like my life impaled in this blank existence-
                but then,
the moon, coyly looking among the clouds,
turns blue; empty cars
drive down deserted streets,
their red tails disappearing around corners,
past slumbering house fronts,
whose windows show illuminated interiors
where infinite universes unfold in the night.
 

                ALL THE FACES
All the faces were turned up,
eyes and mouths open in unselfconscious wonder,
watching the amazing feats of the acrobats,
hurtling back and forth over the abyss.

I, too, came to see
how a person, traverses such a deep abyss.
And, as I watched, it occurred to me
that if the radical right would expend
as much effort developing their souls
as they did lying and cheating and stealing;
and prostituting their loved ones,
and sexually exploiting children;
and murdering their victims for having fun,
or, for not thinking like they do:

how many great feats their souls could accomplish,
while dangling from life's slender thread.
 

                                RUMOR MILL
Rumor Mill suggests something may be crooked in the area of sex crimes.  It
says, it started monitoring this heinous class of crime some time back, and soon
came to some startling revelations.  To confirm what was only initially a random
set of observations, it reviewed and analyzed the available body of data for a
limited geographical region over an extended period of time.  The following are
the Rumor Mill's observations.
        Sex crimes have been statistically altering.  The victims are getting younger
and the number of certain classes of sex crimes have been increasing.  First,
the number of victims per perpetrator is increasing.  Second, the number of
serial rapist is increasing.  Third, the incident of gang rape has also
increased, which also is occurring to ever younger aged children- most recently
a 13 year old girl.  If one goes back in time in a given geographical region by
five year increments one readily observes the following; what had been purely
random in nature and relatively rare in occurrence - statutory rape, serial rape
and gang rape - suddenly changed.
        STATUTORY RAPE:
        Statutory rape victims keep getting progressively younger.  The rapists, which
formerly had been almost always restricted to one victim per rapist, have now
taken to abusing several children.  The incident of younger aged victims has
occurred in a regular pattern rather than randomly.  The pattern is, as
previously noted, one of progressively younger victims.  This pattern defies all
laws of statistics and reasonable expectations.  Also, one occupation seems to
(at least covered in the propaganda machine) be recently committing around 40%
of the statutory rapes, which is all but impossible - teachers.  Politically the
radical right are trying to attack public education, substituting charter
schools and vouchers in their stead.  The recent increase in school violence
coupled with increased incidents of statutory rape by teachers raising to a
climax during an election year certainly help their private agenda.
        SERIAL RAPE:
        In the past this horrible type of crime has been quite rare.  In our area, in
an election year there have been three.  One serial rapist raped and murdered
victims including 17 & 18 year old girls -in separate incidents who were best
friends?!? Another serial rapist statutory raped several adolescent aged girls.
This happened during a year when the voters are being asked to reconsider the
question of mandatory sentencing.
        GANG RAPE
        Gang rape was harder to study.  There were not enough examples of this terrible
type of crime- so the analysis expanded its geographical scope and time frame
and still there were few examples: Thank God!  However, recently this has not
been the case and as in the preceding classes of crime the same pattern of
progressively younger victims persists.

        Witnessing the previously mentioned tragedies the Rumor Mill suggests the
following hypothesis as a possible explanation.  The radical right has taken it
on itself to engage in what it calls "social engineering".  The first area to
receive attention was the recreational "heavy" drug users i.e. crack and later
heroin.
        In the early days of the Reagon and Bush administration the radical right
instituted a crack epidemic in the U.S..  They controlled the flow of Cocaine
out of Columbia an later replaced the two major cocaine cartels with their own
organization using the lucrative profits to fund covert operations and wars
around the World.  Business was so good that they subsequently repeated the
procedure for heroin in S.E. Asia and Kashmir and N. Mexico.  This they did
while publicly loudly extolling the evils of drug use. See previous issues for
more details.
        The radical right needs to have a populist movement of a certain scale to have
the political impact they think necessary.  The use of "heavy" drugs only
includes less than 1/2 of 1% of the total population.  Having conditioned
themselves to think that they have the right to deny the rights of others, and
conditioning society to accept it, they then proceeded to expand their
prohibition to include marijuana.  But while over 80% of the population may have
tried it only 4% are now actively using it recreationally.  Once again not a
large enough group to feed a large scale populist movement.  Alcohol served to
expand the pool of potential victims.  Lots of people drink.
        The radical right determined that it was necessary to expand its operations
into three areas.  The first is alcohol, which we've alredy mentioned.  The
second is youth.  The third area was that of sex crimes.  All of these areas are
highly visible and very vulnerable.  Youths don't know their own minds yet, and,
with alcohol a person's inhibitions are down.  The blight of youth gangs then
appeared, they were infiltrated and started and lead by radical right youth
operatives, whose whole function was to set up and harvest youngsters.  This was
accompanied by intensive propaganda efforts in the media.
        Included in this endeavor were two new classes of crime: murdering your parents
and school violence.  The increase of parent murders was incredible and fell
into the previously noted progressive pattern of ever younger children induced
into brutally murdering their parents.  Where before when a child would become
upset with their parents they would run away, when the radical right was
involved they would murder them before departing.  This is exactly like what was
simultaneously transpiring in violent incidents at schools throughout the
country, where instead of dropping out, when the radical right was involved, the
child would become destablized and pick up a gun and kill their classmates and
teachers.  And, to fill the needs of the propaganda model, we witnessed an
escalation of violence at schools.  See previous issues.
We've already evaluated three categories of sex crimes so we will not repeat
that here.
        The above, if true, constitutes one "hell" of an example of "social
engineering".  It cries out about the abuse of power and its inexorable
corrupting influence.  Obviously, what is needed is a return to an egalitarian
model of society, which protects society by protecting the rights of its
individual members.  In doing so equality becomes of paramount importance there
by minimizing the corruption of power and promoting the prosperity, liberty and
happiness of all its citizens.  This is not idealistic, it has served this
country in good stead for the greater part of its history, and is fundamental to
a functional Democracy.  The cure to the ills of Democracy is more Democracy not
less!  So Rumor Mill claims.  In conclusion Rumor Mill asks this question, "If
this is not the case, how does one reasonably explain the observations
pertaining to this body of data?".
 

           HATE
Its to bad hating is so easy;
because, its like a cancer
that each day devours
a little more of life.
 

                BENEATH
Beneath the barren and brutal Sun
life blindly gropes along, devoid of reason,
presumptuous fanaticism with malice.

But, softly stealing over the horizon
night insinuating and subtle
mute's day's clamor and alarms

silencing hunger, burying everything
even hope and shame-
the artist cries, "Finally!".

My pilgrim soul, and tortured back,
earnestly seek solace and rest.
But, I go with my innocent dreams,

to stretch out under nocturnal skies
wearily wrapped in a veil of darkness,
buried beneath your blackness.
 

                THE CONCERT
Great discordant notes and scrambling arpeggios
mingle with the dry rustling whispers
that flood the scowling spaces
prior to the sudden flourishing strings.
Your face floats in a sea of Ensore faces
and with a sigh from the woodwinds the concert begins.

In the growing darkness
your fine features melt away
among the last sniveling remarks.
Your purse lying discarded on the floor
before the half wall before us.  And then
the music beautiful and reverential sweeps me away.

Outside, among the profusion of leaves
large in their hushed tones,
the storm of refrains pours out ensconcing the trees
and leaving me lost and overwhelmed:
as I grope to touch your hand with mine
in the avalanche of empty moving air.
 

                DIRTY BASTARD
The Sun rose red
a blind eye burning with hate.
"That bastard!  He called me a whore
again today.  Only this time
he dared to claim that I -
I who if anything
am filled with health and ability-

am insufferable and evil:
he claims that because I take money
for sleeping with people (who I then try
to set up) that makes me
some kind of Jezebel,
with a perverse sense of pleasure.

The nerve!
Why he better watch it!
We'll pervert him yet!
How dare he say
the reason we do this
is for personal gain;
and, because of this we're like sick vampires
who thrive on the suffering and misfortune of others;
and, that I want to get as close to the action as possible.

When everyone knows _ its not for the money,
or the travel, or the adventure - after all
`ITS FOR THE SAKE OF CHILDREN.`
The dirty bastard!!!!"
 

        I SAT DOWN
I sat down beside you; and we felt
the joy that grew within you,
and, for the first time in our
married lives, we were brother and sister
who whispered of the blessed event.

Tentatively, I touched you belly,
a swollen ripe fruit, and gently
uncovered your breasts.  They opened
to me like two soft roses; and,
from somewhere deep inside your milk
welled up into twin living fountains.

Embarrassed, we were a kaleidoscope
of conflicting emotions; we shared
with each other our mutual concerns;
and we fell into each others arms,
once more man and wife
frightened over life's cares.
 

        THREADING THROUGH
Threading through the traffic,
lights and siren on
they absorb every receding glance,
pulling up at the curb; and, then,
the distress etched on the aged features
peering down on the pale blue form.

And the dawning awareness that there,
just below the surface, is a gaping abyss
beneath everything that we do,
and in the lightening instant when we
realize the immensity of it all.

Eternal, empty and ironic
coming closer to the gaping jaws
that are still to come
recedes to distance all that they were.
The inexorable equation
the closer they were the harder the
.

On the counter sets the now cold cup of coffee.
Later, they remember her saying,
"But he'll be gone such a long time."
Her stricken face was ashen
and her hands were covered with age spots.

Their long lasting marriage,
nothing had prepared her for this:
how to fill the silent standing hours.
Waiting for the doorway to reopen:
through which had passed
all that knew and understood.
 

        FORGET MAD FATE
Forget mad fate: discuss
the shape of clouds, talk to me of dreams,
talk of the flowers that adorn Spring.
Life is but the shadow of a dream:
let our thoughts dwell on love and happiness,
let others try to stab night's gloom.

Relentless power deforms even beauty
so that a well adjusted middle aged man
is induced to long for "their" beautiful childhood whores.
How devious their evil ploys,
when to the edge of night
came infant entrapments so lovely and so demur!

But wait, and hear experience speak,
even though youth has its own wisdom
it can still learn from the lessons of age:
while sweet melodies charm our vision-
be happy and scorn the scowls of old and withered souls.

What needless cruelty have I seen!
And still, by God, I retain the capacity for love:
how can love be so perverted by fanatics?
How did such bitter bareness blight
that which fills life with such delight,
and, which ought to bless all our days?

Go boldly and greet the day, guardian of my heart,
whose artless charms grace the fleet footed moment
like star sapphires carelessly set;
the notes I sing are sweet
but, how much more sweet - if left alone-
is the woman for whom I sing this song.

Margy, you are beautiful,
and if you would dazzle my eyes
and be embraced by my arms;
those eyes that are bottomless pools,
your hair that is like tiny rivulets
leaping into a water fall,

and your teeth like newly opened white Spring flowers
would provide your lover with more pleasure
than all the gold in the stock market,
than all the treasures in the Louvre,
than all the precious stones in England's crown jewels.

Friends, let the ruby wine blossom
and rising your glass let your heart laugh
regardless of what the scowling zealots do:
reply that their barren Paradise
can't show a mountain as lovely as Mt. Hood,
or, a river as fair as the Columbia.

Look, at their pretty perfidious prostitutes,
whose wanton eyes seek to infest our private places,
displaying their well paid destructive charms;
invading my simple heart
and trying to steal my soul's peace,
just as the Nazis seized their Jewish prey.

Our breasts glow with tender love:
are all our tears and sighs impotent
to give new delight to our old pleasures?
Do eyes, more lovely than precious gems,
where God spreads his richest treasures,
need the stolen charm of feigned sentiment?
 
 

  • Current Issue
  • volume 1
  • volume 2
  • volume 3
  • volume 4
  • volume 5
  • volume 6
  • volume 7
  • volume 8
  • volume 9
  • volume 10
  • volume 11
  • volume 12
  • volume 13
  • volume 14
  • volume 15
  • volume 16
  • volume 17
  • volume 18
  • volume 19
  • volume 20
  • volume 21
  • volume 22
  • volume 23
  • volume 24
  • volume 25
  • volume 26
  • volume 27
  • volume 28
  • volume 29
  • volume 30
  • volume 31
  • volume 31
  • volume 31 1