Irises

Mockingbird

   FACTION
Living in a Democracy, where justice is established
by Laws, with the consent of the governed,
is different from existing under tyranny;
where the caprice of a powerful faction is paramount.

Either, we put our trust in equally applied Laws
that protect our personal and property rights
and remember freedom; or, we surrender,
to the power of a faction and their corrupt arrogant puppets,
and brood daily over slavery.

FINALLY, I REALIZE WHY
Finally, I realize why I received this gift of life,
as each year the Summer Sun shines down on me;
and, why I've taken to growing flowers,
in the garden along side our house.
I ask the towering silence,
why, on this sapphire day,
this glorious gift of sunlight and grass?

As I turn toward you,
its as if you're a round fruit
ripening in the Sun; slowly, the light
penetrates you and me and the mystery
growing deep inside you,
cell by cell, the seed from our loins.

This was my prayer,
that God's dream
would pass through our flesh of clay,
from which "He" would be created.

And, when I write for you
a poem burning with passion,
your beauty makes my heart glow,
like Mt. Hood, a live coal glowing at Sunset.

And, for our child,
his inextinguishable desire
from your veins; and,
his inexhaustible ardor
for liberty and the truth
from my flesh.

   DETESTABLE DEATH
Detestable Death you've desecrated these eyes
what with watching my small child die!
Impotently, I observe you assaulting my home,
and smash the bolted door, blight the sweet blossoms
from the family tree. No parent with a heart
can easily endure the death of their child -
regardless of their age; however, to steal
a young one, leaves the parent
lost in the desolation of their days
that the loss of a grown offspring
never can surpass. My child could have
spared tearing out my still beating heart
from this empty breast! And, I
could have grown old in peace and happiness
had I not known, had I not experienced:
the greatest pain a parent can endure!

   Here is to the victims' parents of the rumored Radical Right generated school violence!

   KNOWLEDGE
In the nursery of the year, beneath lowering skies,
with the wind blowing sullen and cold over lifeless fields;
and, the turgid rivers laboring arduously towards the distant sea,
I wander through the barren Winter landscape.

The gloomy dark forest, where shadows huddle shivering,
scarcely permit the shimmering light of setting stars to penetrate.
Twilight broods over the heavy backed mountains
and the hulking shape of trees become forms of terror.

Noiseless feet slip furtively between shadows
and wide open eyes stare with horror.
A palpable despair hangs about the intended victims
who gaze with a mixed expression of grief and anger,

which grows into a huge consuming combination of sadness and pity
for those sick of soul sycophants, the pawns of power,
which hold the outcome of our lives and binds us fast
with oppression within the net of fate;

as the fowlers take the trembling birds from the sky
and relentlessly tosses them into the gaping jaws of cages
to a living death. Then, with wetted appetite.
they turn back to the woods eager for more.

I begin to look with less hatred
and more horror and think
about what is happening here, and observe
the needless suffering surrounding me.

Those who try to snare their fellows
are forced into herds, where they are
no better than prisoners. Each one, aside from the herd,
is forced into jail cells of misery, apart and alone.

No thought of friendship without hypocrisy,
or human kindness, or charity that isn't a carrot,
to ease their afflictions. Instead each person,
both hunted and hunter, is immersed in suffering and sin.

The hunters are resigned to the miserable state
of the sickly pleasure of trying to make others
more miserable than themselves. Its strange
to watch, though they walk together partners in sin,

they don't realize the Eumenides are tearing them apart.
Each individual soul locked tight
in its own personal prison of affliction;
but, the still suffering fools of the herd

not recognizing the Hell they are building on Earth,
where they as self appointed guards of sin
slowly rot from within,
are isolated in the crowd not seeing, hearing and feeling

their fellow inmates; but, a brooding ghost
hating the bare blank prison -
the other individuals who are products of their programmed delusions,
which bring their blasphemies forward: as hatred of God's works.

Until, now they're aware, and have been for a long time.
They know the pain and suffering they serve on Earth,
for some its been going on since their youth
down through the weary years,

and for others into old age itself: the constant craving,
the undying curse of their corrupt souls!
An ineffable fear freezes my blood, could I become warped into participating,
as another degenerate slave?

In the streets and in the stores, where their whores congregate,
I gaze at the emptiness and ennui being sordidly filled,
by deficit egos compensated by vice and corruption;
and am filled with a great sense of pity.

But, as I look there comes in their scorpion eyes
a gloating hunger, of such unsatisfied unnatural lusts which are
conveyed in their lewd manners that yearn toward worms of sensuality,
which worry and gnaw their stained souls.

I don't understand the supposed appeal,
they make their vicious vices seem so unattractive.
Imagine, how long ago, when the older pimps were young,
and, they would work hard and be pleasantly tired;

and, Summer heat warmed their blood, and cold beer
quenched their thirst, and barbecue satisfied their hunger,
and people sat in the park smoking pot and listened to music,
and danced in the streets, and artists painted chalk pictures on sidewalks.

Everywhere joy and freedom
provided a rich variety of experiences,
which made the youth strong and at ease
not foul and deceitful, corrupt and oppressed;

yes, it was sweet to plunge into life
like naked children diving into Summer streams,
all shroud of shame discarded.
The Earth firm and alive

the soft green valley filled with happy flowers,
while our strong young bodies delighted in our work and play.
Now nothing remains, except perversion,
which floats on the depths of death,

perhaps to sink in iniquity and sordid pleasures;
or, grown wise of their deceit and decadence
rise and attain the abandoned shore.
But, still, the radical right, drowning in desire,

grows stronger by devouring itself:
becomes tyrannical and their parched souls,
no longer happy in the honest simple pleasures of their youth,
are consumed by perverse appetites;

and, their fevered limbs seek vicariously to enjoy,
through today's youth, a cauldron of Hell's fire.
Black hatred blasphemously usurps the soul
as it destroys our precious human rights.

It drives them on to pernicious pleasures with crime and blood.
Rapacious desires: unsatisfied, sick, perverse desires:
how long has it been a cancer eating their souls?
I've observed its pain on Earth.

How sad to see, before their young operatives lives have reached maturity,
how these youngsters lives are already blighted by bigotry.
I've seen their ravenous weary hunger, unsatisfied with all Earth's delights
by wealth, by power, by prestige.

Ah, weary time, where every desire is realized;
and, nothing remains, to divert their unhappy souls;
but, the thrill of perverting and torturing,
and watching writhing victims and the flow of blood:

monsters gloating over pain and gore.
Finally, the new thrills are becoming blasé
and they realize the fiends they've become.
What Furies patiently wait,

while an indolent horror of suffering and misery
surges in their inner most souls sickening at the thought
of perverse pleasures and spilt blood.
There comes a time,

when the innate goodness in man becomes weary
and rebels against the brute wallowing in filth,
all sins grow savor less and yet the desire to sin remains
futilely longing forever.

They have won: long and weary days of decadence(!)
bearing false fronts of counterfeit knowledge,
hypocrites wringing hands and publicly proclaiming
how bitter and loathsome their secret crimes are.

Simple people, they begin to believe that their vices are virtues
And, they think that their blood stained hands are conducting
sacred sacrificial rights. But, some realize
that they are sick wretches, so sick and so exhausted

that even bloodshed and torture pale.
What can they do but brazen through.
The ministers and agent minions, to perverted power,
search across the globe for fresh sets of victims

and spend vast sums on these new perverse pleasures.
They have the power to enjoy them with impunity
never stopping to think of what is happening to them
and divine retribution.

They rip apart the sacred doors, and desecrate their faith,
and deflower the humble lives of ordinary citizens,
in hope of oppressing, and profiting. and providing sickly pleasures;
until, a cry of pain begins to rise from the Earth

And, they are happy for it,
because theirs is the power to satisfy desire in blood.
But, in spite of all this, still they aren't content.
The old empty pain, the never knowing fulfillment.

They stalk Wall Street plundering treasure
leaving burnt streets littered with corpses
brought in to our living rooms with T.V..
Their predatory prostitutes, whose lovely eyes

look no look of love, try to kindle adulterous lust;
or, children trained to solicit perverted appetites,
for their parents' profit. They grow fat with success
and disdain all virtue and convention

blindly pursuing their addiction to power -
content to corrupt and pervert and shed innocent blood,
if only this would appease their appetites.
Their knowledge of their sin

striving to purify themselves,
by spilling innocent childrens' blood,
endeavoring to obscenely purge their impotent foul conceits.
Until, finally all good people flee from the passing monsters.

Religion is called in to sanctify their foul behavior
obscenities, blasphemies and midnight murders
occupy their time. But, God refuses to listen
to all their polluted prayers. How can God,

consecrate subliminally driving his children insane;
until, their seared burning brain echoes with kill -
God demands you to murder! And so one child
burning like fire, is driven to torture and murder another.

Now the veil is falling from their lives -
their self-serving, self-delusions that have justified,
their long suffering, constant troubling desires -
exposing souls stained with lust and blotted by blood.

The ennui of foul days wearily spent, which rot
their souls and leave them warped, perverted and cursed.
They know the pure and good God, who they vainly worship
and who they've abandoned, abominates their human sacrifices,

which penetrate so deep within their souls.
What foolishness to hope that the long stain of time
will fade without redemption. And, awful
as the dawn coming is the revelation

that God intensely cares for all those costly victims.
How can one compensate and cleanse the stains of sin
that will at judgment turn into long enduring suffering,
when the souls who pursued perverted pleasures are rewarded with pain.

Their final victory will be the sum of their accomplished wrongs,
and, the payment for their soul's unsatisfied debt of sin will be pain.
And, still, in spite of the realization, impotent desire pursues them,
   like Hell hounds across this Earth, which is both Heaven and Hell.

I look with horror and see their hate glaring eyes,
as their prostitutes and extortionists come again;
and, as they pass my soul freezes with pity.

THE RAISING DAY
The Sun shone radiant, all my wedding day.
A cloud, I floated among the prettiest flowers
Tucson, a myrtle wood box, a burning stick of incense
the windows knew the sunbeams and warmed to them,
they called to a column of clouds to come to prayer.
At last thankful twilight arrived in a wave of color

The raising day was finished
lifting us past turbulent times
toward storm tossed days
my lips touched....
Gentle one, "her hands' touch soft as velvet."
A man walking down the deserted desert road,
carried his water with him.
Night and music filled the air
it mingled with the smell of pungent sage and succulents.

At midnight the air was heavy with dreams
a wind began to rise at two.
Within the dream you said,
some must be a reflection,
while we laid on the leaf
and floated on the back
of the black mysterious current
that reflected an infinity of stars.

   THE EVIL FANATICS
New churches with mighty spires like missiles,
ostentatious presentation of their fiscal power,
which dazzlingly displays corrupt greed
combined with intolerant pride.

When warmed with simple piety Christ prospered -
long ago obscure congregations
used their humble churches, as facilities to joyously celebrate
charity, mutually forbearance and all life's many blessings.

Now their cold and hard souls are sepulchers,
where wicked fanatics wander in darkness for all eternity
a barren and bleak nothing decorates
the tedious monotony of the blank walls.

O sinful zealots! When will they learn
not to take pleasure and earn profits
from the misery of others, deceiving themselves and each other;
but, when did Folly ever learn, and has Pride ever shown restraint?

   THE COMMONERS COMPLAINT
In robust and brawlers of commoners
came the huge hulking giant,
who had hands like mack trucks,
terrible looks and black as coal;
why, and this I heard on good account,
   all the windows broke when he lumbered in.

He stomped through the good commons
and rudely used our picturesque parks
I don't know how it came about,
what demon urged him to destroy
the pair of nesting eagles
   who had never done him any harm.

We sent an embassy,
to gain his attention and protest most vehemently;
until, he was moved to pity by our plight;
he stripped our land of its rich treasures
and comforted us for our losses
   but, when dawn arrived he had gone.

The city council called out to the public
a proclamation for all hearty men,
whose honor and valor might meet
the current emergencies requirements -
none of the citizens matched
   the rather demanding job description.

So we came to the unusual situation,
where we struggle in blood through filth and mire
and a few are left who comment to each other like this:
"How sad, it is to see
one's fellow citizens, so contemptibly corrupted -
   alas, reduced to being so small, so small.

   OF LONG RAINS
Land of long rains,
of verdant forests
and silky blue rivers,
where cloud continents collide
extolling like prophets of doom.

Blessed land, sacred now and forever,
do you remember
the coming of the white man
moving West following their dreams
along the Oregon trail?

Is it possible? Is it right
that the Liberty Bell,
having seen so much sacrificed blood,
should sit silent and neglected
in a Philadelphia museum?

Can our American brothers and sisters,
assisted by previous generations' generous hands
to prosperity, to power, to freedom
hang their oppressed heads
in a sadistically tortured time?

Can the West wind
wail in a symphony to our ears
that sounds empty to our hearts?
Did Washington and Lincoln waste their lives
in America creating a new land for nothing?

   IS IT LIFE
Is it life:
that surges in joyous tide
around me? My children's voices,
playing games at their computers,
comes to me, through their
partially opened door,
penetrating the night's sacred stillness.

And, the suburban sounds
muted on the gray ribbon streets
that surround the church.
Reverentially, the silver moon
bathes the cool green grass
in shadows and lovely flickering light.

Awake from the dark sleep
and observe the river
longing for the tides turning.
Now is the time. Mortgaged hours,
smoldering and remote reflections.

And, then there is you,
the wanton wind heavy with lilacs
stir the restive trees;
where children play free,
unencumbered with their parent's bigotry,
tag with clouds scudding across the star strewn sky.

Dew condenses on copses,
behind the does, on the damp trail,
fawns follow silently
amazed at the most beautiful
igniting-of-forest-fire moonbeams.

The owl returns to the old growth,
wraith like its large wings
parallel to the trees; while,
the nightingale laughingly sings,
invisible in the dark thicket.

WELCOME LOVE
For the years we've grown together.

You come to me and I clasp you to my breast
and enfold you into my heart like love itself,
and begin by kissing your face and hands.
I lead you to our bed,
what a glorious gift from God.
You whose very presence lessens life's difficulties,
your sincere mannerisms answer every question;
you have penetrated all the secrets in my heart,
and provide a helping hand to see us through
this stupid and brutal time.
Welcome love!

   RUMOR MILL
Rumor Mill believes both Religion and reason are concerned with truth, In this regard Religion does not conflict with reason, even when revelations are concerned; because, revelations must never go beyond that which is written (in the Bible) and be in accord with reason. Neither can it conflict with reason in maintaining those precepts which are the foundation of society; since those principles are in harmony with reason: however, the factional partisans of prejudice, who maintain unjust claims bigoted beliefs, oppressive doctrines, corrupt privileges endeavor to ignore reason and create perverse and violent acts, in order to enable them to support their beliefs. Beliefs, which must be embraced unsearched; and principles, which we are compelled to accept, but must not be evaluated. In essence, it becomes an echo exercise that can only serve to convince anyone who doesn't bother to objectively reflect of its fallaciousness and ultimate lack of utility. In fact by pursuing erroneous beliefs it retards progress by preventing the objective evaluation of facts. How can a Democracy exist, while having a portion of society take it upon themselves to prohibit the rest of society from engaging in the pursuit of happiness to the extent that it doesn't prevent others from doing the same? It is comparable to having one half of the brain prohibit the use of the other half. Any reflection or rudimentary knowledge of human nature will cause one to realize what a formula for corruption and vice this sort of fundamental inequality will result in. Further, to couple this inequality with populist vigilante movement that financially benefits from 'bad' events occurring will discover that it won't be long before those elements of society who are attracted to this sort of thing will be (the rumor mill speculates that the six members of a family who were murdered by a seventh were murdered for the financial benefit of the operatives of the radical right for a $17,500 tax free pay day) manufacturing tragedies, while vilifying their victims and expanding their "market" (from heroin and crack addicts to pot smokers and soon to include beer and wine drinkers:: remember, without victims to persecute the radical right can not exist and, without job skills they, will lose their relatively high standard of living); and, they will warp their beliefs, to make them consistent with base personal advantage; and, this will be done with extreme, emotional excuses-i.e. children. Until, wrong will become right, and vice will parade as virtue. Remember, hypocrisy is the compliment vice pays to virtue.

The Rumor Mill thinks that this Summer poor, beautiful Seattle has been slammed again by the radical right. First, there was the staged riots around the W.T.O. conferences. But, in Portland the easy pickings are gone. Thus, second, the radical right have been going up to Seattle, not for the sake of children, but, to create human tragedies and financially benefit from them. The method of preference is to pervert somebody, and then, either prostitute their own children, or abuse some one else's children in the community. This, if true, clearly constitutes cases of child abuse. If the radical right were really for children, then they would have stayed put in Portland and enjoyed a quiet and happy, unprofitable and boring Summer. RIGHT?!?

CLOSER TO HOME: Rumor Mill calls to attention the alleged attempts to prostitute, thank God unsuccessful, children in Portland; and, failing in that sordid endeavor, using them to try to torture at least one dissenting person, by having their kids go up to a middle aged 50 + year old adult's home and chant that they were going to drive him insane: FOR THE SAKE OF CHILDREN of course; because, he publicly disagreed with them, and there was rumored to be a reward on him resulting from a slanderous accusation, which they had spent over 16 years proving to be false. Thus turning their children into sadistic, misanthropic individuals, who try to torture anyone who dares to disagree with the almighty radical right. What a way to teach the respect of one's elders, and in a Democracy where we " hold these truths to be self evident that all men are created equal...", respect for each other's rights as well as respect for ourselves. Its almost as if they were trying to turn their children into well paying human sacrifices. For to make them into agents of adverse stimulus; and, then, try to destabilize the targeted adult, would make the children the obvious target for any ensuing acts of violence on the part of the destabilized, tortured adult.

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