When anyone claims to be the voice of a god, or science, or the senate -- and even says they are the embodied representation of whatever they claim to be. They are liars. But be sure they are full of it. And full of themselves too. They are as twisted as a pig's tail They are as crooked as a dog's hind leg. They are claiming a right to step on your head. A true professional will temper their skill and knowledge with humility. The etymology of the word "Doctor" is "teacher," not your highness. Hubris is never in good form. "Pride goeth before ...."
Monthly Archives: November 2021
Natural humankind does the primate thing looking for tools and gadgets to weaponize to lord it over the have-nots. Some want to be royal over the rest. Whether fire, iron, oil, atomic energy, or AI, it is just the same crusade for world domination by big money politics fused with big science & the criminals of these, add the snooty academics with their politically fawning one-sided philosophy and soft science, paying attention only to the smudged ball of their swollen craniums -- it's all a power hunt with the outcome of population reduction. Don't imagine that eugenics went out of vogue with corn flakes To these masked enthusiasts, the survival of the fittest accelerates by burying others.
Massacring the innocent snow-bunnies with barely a word Do you know their names? yet you knew George's for months on end the girls don't fit into the agenda slots for the woke daily news cycle a deadlocked predator with a blood-red club will lawyer up and take internet donations for bail criminalize the victims, excuse the perps what follows is more repressed outrage on both sides of the argument where the children pay
there is a wound that heals there is a sand that soothes there is a cloud that clarifies the bumpy road that smooths truth telling can be lies What's called wisdom may be dumb there is a fame to ostracize, the familiar royal bum what looks to be in one way in opposition may be found the enigma defies what it is & how you may expound from jumping to conclusions and interpretations that impound I'll take my leave this autumn day to ride my muse unbound
Connection failure Communication breakdown QUIT TALKING AT ME
Some of what passes as poetry or art is as incomprehensible as speaking in tongues. A tattoo artist doesn't employ the same wastefulness. After all, putting a Jackson Pollock on a customer's bicep probably wouldn't give a special message. Nor are they likely to needle into someone's back "During ramification caracoleos descends pressure" framed by a heart. Today, a tattoo artist said, "It sounds like the revolution has started; ... ." There are no deep poetics here.
Isn't every end the child of a beginning? Isn't every heartbreak the trophy of your love? Isn't every change the cloth that life is cut from? Isn't each today a present from above? Isn't every sight a reflection in a mirror? Isn't every word the effort to explain? Isn't every thought changed by your perception? Isn't every pleasure seated opposite of pain? Doesn't every death allow for a commencement? Doesn't every dream prove to be the dreamer's worth? Isn't everything the dream of a creator? Isn't everything a gift on planet earth?
a pretty lady sprawls naked on the bed sheets she is an unwritable verse on my pillow by my side is a demolition derby, a risky challenge-- breathing rhythmically with tranquil eyes-- words of an angel - she's the highest peak my half-century would ever savor. I watch, hours slip by-- Still, I want