Soylent Green

Whether it tis nobler to drink ale
or ply the crook and brook to fish
the bubbles are the same that arise
if you keep in mind, one is God's land
and the other but human nature
both stir steady relaxation

release in work, relaxation
to tie the fly, ply, and chill ale
while wading in or from bank, fish
the eddies of flowing that arise
from the cycling eternity of land
that is Eden when smog lifts off nature

when foggy or snowing or of rainy nature
maybe it is too hot for any relaxation
seek the shade brew some ale
buckle down, tend house, smoke fish
shine the light so you may arise
to meet demands of cynical land

to meet the demands of a cynical land
that would hide the fish and beer in nature
that would hide the steady pace in relaxation
that would addict to work and ale
that would poison the byways of fish
that would put guns in young hands, arise

like fertilizer that bring tomatoes to arise
oil can both be a boon and vice to a land
it brings the dollars and ease greasing nature
but brings inequality to deserved relaxation
instead of volunteering your drinking that ale
instead of inventing your out for a fish

we used to fertilize with fish
and something would stay with the land,
when oil runs dry so do farms in nature
and the malt shrivels in relaxation
and then we have no more tomato ale
with hot tamale sauce and got to fish

If fish could feed millions in Jesus' land
we're going to need it as we reinvest in nature
with billions more, arise, brew a ale. Relaxation

Obama in the yold

Pisces in the Milky Way
swims upstream to breed
10,000 miles he's traveled, astream,
to arrive again from where he left
to embody and release
and fertilize the valley
with his honesty, integrity, and thick skin
in the cycle of things

His brain, his philosophy
His heart, his economy
His gills, by the grace of God
gives life to hope
that is fish

all of these in the cycles of things
give rise to new life
like the body of Christ
nourishes and feeds the soul
that is wheat, tree, minnow
meadow and fold
hearth and hold

a check on power that would corrupt
the cycle of things brings
moderation to an entropic woald

TradeWars2000

My purple crayon is my intelligence
the hand that guides, my wisdom, and
In my brainpan lies the world
unfurled & unrestrained by boxes of philosophy
it lies beyond the fictions of man
unto it's own rules
as a constellation of synapses
unfolding king cepheus

Sight, touch, hearing, knowing
these be but a smell of flower
that grows under a rock overhang of time
which, the rock, uncaring loves neither you nor me
until that day Jesus comes to bless it
yet the flower will grow all the same in indifference
having sprung from the same well
it's role entwined with the universe
refuting destiny by imparting free will
to truth itself
in that
it asserts one aspect of all knowledge
in the same note and key
to play along in melody of the universe
for the senses are not greedy
they just want to keep it real
like the best rapper out there

what is this thing remembering the unlearned
but trying to smell a flower that has long since
gone to seed on a mountain top 33 years gone by
there is no tapping the nOosphere
in an electric universe...
only waves and currents
circuits and maybe dynamos
that pie the sky with the likes of Leo and Cassiopeia

so try not to turn lead into gold
but observe the universe
and transmute ignorance into fine clothes
therein lies the Diamond Mind

For the space dock has been blown up by a quantum torpedo

Me and My Truck

The manifold of sustainability
lingers on hopes and dreams,
yearnings.. steaming beans,
that only widespread change can meet
The gov'ment, the voice of change
the guiding hand
the prince of lanes
whom directs traffic down avenues

Me and my truck is all I have
I can screw in a lightbulb
but where is the love
to make me stronger
to fly like a dove
to fly through the canyon
with a gallon of bioamplification

we can eat our disease
or we can make it clean
full of life in balance
teaming with frogs
and bugs that pollinate making honey
and wildflowers that harvest the sight
as wolves bite out the sick and overpopulated
Let us be wolves and bite out the waste and overconsumption
before the economy of ecology collapses beneath our feet

Like Oil and Water

Drilling rigs are boring
through the iris of the earth
one finds the salt of the gods
imitating water
but poison to the yeast

When descending into the Iris of the Earth
relative baselines become basin and source
while one weathers into the other unending
the valley is to the mountain
as the root is to the peak
and the crust to the rift
where all mountains begin
from compression produced therein

From the Salt of the Gods
Ra's Chariot becomes commonplace
to dangle on a thread
between love and hate
in our roadrage
and mercenary economy
of corporate lobbying

In imitating water
heaven's abode is synthesized
giving life to the tree of economy
but so large it grows
kills the ground growth
and threatens houses
in senescence
from 10,000 winds
caught in it's leaves

The poison to the yeast
is as peak to root
in our roadrage
in our mercenary economy
but so large it grows
into 10,000 winds
it is as poison to the yeast

It's 3:15 and the bell is ringing

When no longer found to other's vision
a beer gets drunk, and assholes get punked
signs get started and poems get thunk
wildmagic blooms in stars above
wild hearts loom the magic of love

When a beer gets drunk and assholes are getting punked
mankind is better for it
nuff said
except that perhaps nothing comes for free
when one tries to build a better futurosity

When signs get started and poems get thunk
consciousness is harkened to foam at the front
erasers get nibbled, conformity funked
and wheels get driven past driveling frivility
making what one prays to be a better day

When wildmagic blooms in stars above
constellations wave back and footsteps glow
doorways appear and overgrowth folds
sanctuary holds for your souls sojourn
past delusion, past preoccupation, and straitjackets alive otherwise.

When wild hearts loom the magic of love
glamours wished become reality
while perhaps nothing comes for free
the wheels get driven past driveling frivility
in striving for heaven for who wouldn't want to
when wild hearts loom the magic of love

Options of Perception

When a man/woman/or child is freed
truth is tasted
in every mouth food is richer
in every mind idea's picture
The horizon's eye becomes broader hotter
no longer lost to other's vision

When truth is tasted
the lasting pride of heaven's abode
opens doors to minds forlorn
thrusting freewill upon one's rill
Letting one cut one's bank a little deeper
Letting your soul to run a little thicker

When every mouth tastes the food richer
more hope is born in souls sojourn
more burden furlowed, more strength observed
more keen of eye, more rich the pie
when every mouth tastes food richer

When in every mind idea's picture
problem grasped and answered at last
before when and what is wanted played
prepares one for the day of inequalitay
guiding your actions, guiding your prayers

When the horizon's eye becomes broader, hotter
the better you can watch for weather
distance closes, options open
chores get tended, less is broken
plans get made, actions gets played
and the struggle of life get more embayed

When no longer lost to other's vision
your life becomes your own
and the lasting pride of heaven's abode
opens more hope born in souls sojourn
guiding your actions, guiding your prayers
to close the distance and open the doors
when your no longer lost to other's vision

Shoestring Theory

Laces and the shoes on the street
brace entropy from entreating
sprains, sprungs, springs of sorrow from
the failing hate of gravity

Laced up and tied right the plights
of ankles in the city tonight
hop, dance, bop, shop
in serendipity while securely alight

but one tangle, one poor knot
may throw most into chaos:
broken legs, bent fenders...
society itself has to doctor
what was once thought
a loquacious civility

Tying together financial empires
and used by warmongering liars,
the humble shoestring may be really,
some tool of the devil's hellfire
feeding the flames of eternity
chaining us to the bottom line
through coporate lobbying
Free the Shoestring!

flight Pan-Am

am I in love
new sets of eyes
that soar the horizon
one kiss at a time

a slip of the worlds
that glide eternity
my reality fading
into the same rut
I had with my last girl

born anew
a toddler in swaddling
same old body
new cup of coffee
spawning wants
of yesterday
yesteryear torn asunder
pieces peeled afeather
to fly a new bird up

but what dark vision
is this
thunder clouds out yonder
now clearly viewed
as illusion of lust
once shattered
patchworks the scenery
abounding under
true love's destruction
having come back together
with patchwork seams
to put blinders on my needs

I soar, preoccupied
by times waning strength
to leave me seeking
that next kiss from the abyss

a glowing cigerette stick
streaks past my reach
darkness has fallen
but new lights guide
my glide in soaring the heights

a spangled sky seeks my soul
and the stars in her eyes
scream louder than the wind
of patchworked illusions of lust's
karmic clockwork death

and I find a tree next to an intersection
the light blinks red and I rest
for minutes on end
finally the dawn arises anew
and with it my soul sojourn

site retasking

in the spirit of recycling reducing and reusing, this site has been repurposed
please write all complaints in the box below
-the Mgmt.

Libertas8376

Liberty, peace, securityunfried lines of sustainability
green peace spread thin
while politicians pander
slander, ramble, and dance
to views of impossible opinion
in hopes the invisible thirsty two-headed giraffe
doesn't get to their beer first
doesn't read their governance laws online
doesn't know legality doesn't mean morality

I bet the crew who knew Malcolm X
were fed the same bullshit we have now
the same constraints on their voice lent
I bet the crew who knew Lincoln
celebrated freedoms not listed in the amendments
like that beer you fear congressman
like that smoke you toke senator

If it were left to me,
we could tread more lightly:
build houses that didn't sprawl,
require crop-rotation,
plant perhaps borders along rivers,
to soak up the fertilizers point source pollution
for a day in when we may.. just pray
and celebrate
that we did the right thing,
not fighting in contention with corporations
for the voice of reason.

congealed effervescence

wiggidy wump the frigid corpse
hits the floor. "too many sins,"
claim wrens pecking near
"No dear, 'twas the fear,"
ravens state peering at fate
with a dinner leer gleaming
upon their faces pacing adjacent.
pacing closer to view the boon
to the forest folks' resources.
"Tear the hair," declare the wrens.
"peck the flesh," stress the ravens.
"But it's only a poem spun from rainbows,"
declaims an owl down to the ground,
"and that my folk feeds the soul.
So dine friends with minds divine,
with christs' cup from magic height
and rejoice the gift given present
for life is to live and be loved today
with vigil and intellect
for tomorrow won't harmonize by its own.