The brief encounter
Was just that
Brief
No fanfare
No bullshit
Just
Well, look who’s here
At a local
Grocery / hardware store
My “How are you doing?”
With a friendly handshake
Was reciprocated with
Good, and you.
Good
The kind of salutation
Exchanged
When neither can remember
The other persons name
Kind dialogue followed
Looks like you only have
Two items
Go ahead
No
That is fine
You were here first
With that
The conversation ended
He moved up to check out
I can go for hours
Without the compulsion
Of needing to speak
So no skin off of my nose
Especially
When it comes to names
Although
Names were not
Necessary
Dad and son
Would have sufficed
I have stripped bare
The olive trees
Handing out
So many branches
Even after
Information was
Manipulated
Lies were told
Loyalty was put to the
Test
Truth won out
Money was / is
Involved
That part might be
Fixable
Can not get inside
Of his mind to heal the
Wounds manifested
That took the shape of
Treating my wife and daughter
Horribly
For no reason
Save a passive attack
Likewise a deceiving
Story
Regarding a phone call
Circumstantially
Recorded
Where what retold was never
Said
So with the above
Chance encounter
The door slowly
Closes
And when it shuts
For good
I
Like now
Will be at
Peace
Well
At least with that
Situation
After all
As John Trudell said
“Don’t trust anyone who isn’t angry.”
“Stirred” enough to write this.
“Not Shaken” enough to reverse apathy.
“They know the children are much too young to be able to muster an intellectual defense against a sophisticated idea like that, and they know that up to a certain age children believe everything their parents tell them.
And as a result, they never learn to question things. Nobody questions things in this country anymore.
– George Carlin
Forever grateful for growing up in the awkward position of never really being able to trust my parents.
While deceit was not at every turn, maintaining the vigilance of doubt and suspicion was a well paved road.
Mostly through sardonic sarcasm, diabolical deceptions, misconstrued memories, acrid anger, and when possible, kept benignly busy.
“The words with which a child’s heart is poisoned, whether through malice or through ignorance, remain branded in his memory, and sooner or later they burn his soul.”
― Carlos Ruiz Zafón
Fortunately or unfortunately it manifests itself in the neurotic over thinking of even the most mundane trivialities into something so colossally imperative, it takes every wave of energy just to remember to breath.
Wrought into the malleable position of believing in nothing or nothing.
Save for questioning that nothingness, into something, that is neither tangible or concrete.
Therefore the gratitude lies, (how ironic) in being able to question nearly everything. Even the stuff I “believe” in. Perhaps not all the time, but enough to keep me on my toes.
Unfortunately, up until now, stagnating real evolution by Devil’s advocate justifying, from moving forward because ’tis easier to be a contrarian to contradictions then to find a better way.
Just need to figure out how, before I talk my way out of it.
The annual subliminal indoctrination consumption authority figure subjugation mindless big brother behavioral musical mantra. Reined down upon unsuspecting innocents by well meaning and not so well meaning parents, and stereos.
Deeply steeped in an ingrained system, that there is no virtual or plausible actual way out. Save perpetuating it further with the underlying hope that a paradigm shift will occur.
That parents might just be able to experience the true love they have for their offspring. Really know them for their essence and spirit, accepting their children’s being and beingness as truly divine.
Without fear, deceit, manipulation and control, replaced with love, truth, transparency and guidance.
“Santa Claus Is Comin’ To Town”
As heard through an Orwell filter.
You better watch out (BB is watching)
You better not cry (show no emotions)
You better not pout (put on a fake smile)
I’m telling you why
(authority’s expectations)
Santa Claus is coming to town
Santa Claus is coming to town
Santa Claus is coming to town
(Redundant warnings repeated)
He’s making a list, (patriarchal prep)
Checking it twice; (anal retentive)
Gonna find out who’s naughty or nice.
(From an illusionary moral authority)
Santa Claus is coming to town
Santa Claus is coming to town
Santa Claus is coming to town
(As ominous as big brother is watching)
He sees you when you’re sleeping
(Creepy)
He knows when you’re awake
(Creepy and a personal Space Invader)
He knows if you’ve been bad or good
(A spectre male judging your behavior.)
So be good for goodness sake
(No. For the judge instilling fear)
With little tin horns and little toy drums
(Consumables that make noise)
Rooty toot toots and rummy tum tums
(Redundant calories digested)
Santa’s a busy man he has no time to play
(Authority never rests)
He’s got millions of stockings to fill on Christmas day
(Look how good he is to you for 1 of 365 days.
(Santa Claus is coming to town)
(Coming to town)
(Santa Claus is coming to town)
(Coming to town)
Saw this on a fb meme.
Santa gives more to rich kids than poor kids. STOP LYING TO YOUR KIDS ABOUT SANTA CLAUS !!
Another one, with a drawing of a kid on Santa’s lap, reading his list requesting…
“I want my parents to stop lying to me about you and play with me outside.”
Santa’s reply. ..
“You’re just being naughty. ….Next!!”
To some, this may sound very “Scrooge-ess”. However, am merely presenting this as a consideration for an alternative reality that children grow up knowing their divinity.
When in my best perception, that is what we are “all” here for regardless of age. Not to be a pawn, in a rigged game of consumption, behavior subjugation, conformity, via systematic manipulation.
As my grandchildren’s papa, they will not hear me utter those words, as easy as it would be to modify their “behavior” to my liking. Better behave, Santa is watching.
Tried it once, felt incomprehensibly icky, realizing it mirrored the world we live in and not in the one we could.
Then slowly came up with the above.
For The Christmas Tree
The winter purification has returned
The cold and the snow
The crispness of the air
It is a time of rejoicing and prayer
Ceremonies, sacrifice
Humble ways to show we care
Respect and concern for our relations
Are the ways it’s always been
The invader starts his winter purification
With Christmas
Allegedly he says to honor Christ
Who he killed, the prince of peace
Is now honored with the sacrifice
Of the Trees
The assassins with their axes
Who kill you my relative
And then electrify you with lights and decorations
You will stand over
Their gifts and presence
Of the confused
They do not understand
You are spirit
You must not be abused
The invaders happiness
Seems to have no depth
Their Christmas is only
The giving of gifts and
The killing of Trees
The peace in sharing is lost in the selling
And the buying
For them there is always a price
And this is the one
They pay for your needless sacrifice
Maybe someday they will know
– John Trudell
1946 – 2015
No room for improvement
We’ve reached a plateau
“This is the best we can do folks
Garbage in garbage out”
– George Carlin
Insanity
Doing the same thing over and
Over expecting different results
Something is wrong here
People mistrust congress, yet
They trust “their” congress person
What part of that doesn’t make sense
Ownership or optimistic perception
My guess ownership, if it is their’s
Somehow even if not voted for or voted
Their congress person reflects them
By a perceived connection therefore
Whatever is the illusionary attachment
By default through them makes it good
“Because if it’s really just the fault of these politicians then where are all the other bright people of conscience?
Where are all the bright, honest, inteligent Americans ready to step in and save the Nation and lead the way?
We don’t have people like that in this country; everybody’s at the mall, scratching his ass, picking his nose, taking his credit card out of his fanny pack and buying a pair of sneakers with lights in them!”
– George Carlin
By all accounts, congress just scammed the majority of all us taxpayers in the most blatant money grab in history.
Having passed an alleged tax reform bill that helps the wealthiest first and foremost, plus gutting the Affordable Care Act. Behind closed doors, without public hearings and no back up plan to impliment. Bye, democracy, good buy. Having done their billionaire buddies a solid. As we watch nothing else get done.
Playing the petrified proletariat public like a puppet pawn in a back alley shell game.
Merely because those two words were mentioned. Tax Cut. Alas, I digress, once heard, the fine line between rape and consent is salesmanship. Tax cut, sounds good if you are the one actually getting one.
Making way, to go another trillion dollars in debt, while they take their ka-ching to the bank. Which could just disappear if we quit funding the military industrial complex, legalize and tax all marijuana.
Watch the observer
The you that is you inside
Then make some changes
Inspired by
“The Untethered Soul”
– Michael A. Singer
Society’s Ill
There is no pill for a cure
Can not start over
With out a paradigm shift
To a world we’ve never seen
“The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.”
Omar Khayyám
The more “I” write, the less “I” have to, as “some” other entity steps in and takes over to fill in the blank page.
“I was dreamin’ when I wrote this
Forgive me if it goes astray”
Prince
“1999”
Now, if I could just learn to polish posts instead of extending them…..
Just practicing till I can write something as brilliant as the following by Neil Peart.
“I lie awake, staring out at the bleakness of Megadon. City and sky become one, merging into a single plane, a vast sea of unbroken grey.
The Twin Moons, just two pale orbs as
they trace their way across the steely sky. I used to think I had a pretty good life here, just plugging into my machine for the day, then watching Templevision or reading a Temple Paper in the evening.
‘My friend Jon always said it was nicer here than under the atmospheric domes of the Outer Planets. We have had peace since 2062, when the surviving planets were banded together under the Red Star of the Solar Federation. The less fortunate gave us a few new moons.
I believed what I was told. I thought it was a good life, I thought I was happy. Then I found something that changed it all…”
Rush excerpt from
“2112”
Neil Peart’s “something” in the story was a guitar.
In my case it is a “pen” or rather a keyboard.
“The more bad news there is, the faster this system collapses.”
– George Carlin
Way to go Donald
A global private spy network. Seriously?
A super spy agency to spy on the spies spying on the spied.
Wake up Alex Jones, the global elite are coming out of their tyrannical closet and Big Brother is watching. Making Trump the O’Brian character in Orwell’s “1984”.
Cradling your toothless head and jack booted beaten body while cranking the dials telling you he loves you and that (2+2 = 5)
Likewise holding to the spoken illusion that he is going to build a big great wall, impede immigration, fire and fury North Korea, had absolutely no collusion with Russia and oh yeah, lower your taxes.
Hahahaha ouch turn down the dial. Ouch, I’ll confess, I’m goofing on you.
Will someone check the functioning of our GPS, I could have sworn our evolution and enlightenment was in the other direction
Oh well, another boost for the economy since people already sit around and watch other people for free, might as well convince them to do it for direct or passive income.
Styx
“High Time”
I flip the switch on my laser video
And there’s the man staring back at me
He starts to speak in a voice so righteous
About the sins of society
He’s got answers to all my problems
Says he’ll decide what
I should hear and see
I try to change to another station
But all I get is more of his morality
And morality, yeah
But I see the kids of a new generation
And they won’t stand for this mind control
They’re gonna change
this world we live in
They’re gonna bring back the rock and roll
So if I can,
I’m gonna break from this prison
Gonna get out and join in the fight
Take a chance on what I believe in
Win or lose, I know it’s right
‘Cause it’s high time
For us to start a revolution
High time
Just like an A-bomb explosion
High time
It ain’t the music that’s in question
High time
It’s more the freedom of expression
Change is comin’
Mind Police are comin’
We’re on the move
The Old World is crumblin’
A new day’s comin’
Tell your friends and relations
We’re on the move
We’re gonna start a rockin’ nation
Since a library is about the furthest thing away from the Donald’s awareness as is the truth. Instead of wasting money on a bookless presidential library, they are going to put up a Presidential Newstand outside of the Fox News Corporation.
They will sell The New York Post and the National Enquirer, giving away Novelty fake “Time” magazine covers with every purchase. Plastic would be “border wall” replicas, made in China.
More novelties such as a tax code decoder rings that reveal the benefits you will have as soon as you start making billions of dollars, by selling your soul, colluding with foreign governments and cheating taxpayers out of their investment.
While all five of his fanatical fan base and fox friends are enjoying that, maybe Andy Dufresne will teach him to read in the Brooks Hatlen Shawshank Memorial Library.
Before teaching him how to tunnel out, with his diamond encrusted gold and platinum thumb cuffs.
Has a proclivity towards a police state due to its unconscious reproduction.
Wolves to be corralled, separated from the sheep, by the sheep, for the sheep.
Freedoms are lost in the sheer volume of redundant beings.
Not even through any overt or covert oppressive legislation or tyrant.
Merely cumbersome presence, thickly concentrated in stifling traffic, burgeoning boroughs, sprawling suburbs, dense districts, tumultuous towns, malignant mega cities, massive municipalities.
Add to that, fragmented farmland, reduced ranch land, overfished oceans, ravished rainforests. Stuffed sidewalks, mobbed malls, impassable aisles.
And yes, for the most of the most part, it does not feel like I belong.
Imprisoned in a meme knotted, twisted, frayed and tangled fishing line of notions, beliefs, perceptions, thoughts, memories, projections, assumptions, actualites, knowledge, wisdom, ignorance, truths, lies, zero and infinity.
Nor even being able to find an end in order to undo, straighten, mend, clean, and wind up with care and precision to cast back out into the sea of humanity.
Worse yet, finding both ends bogged abysmally into questionable ridiculous randomness of where to start. Connections broken, retied to wrong ends, impossibly knotted.
Looking at the world through a windshield. 