emerging visions

20120422

Gifting Gaea EV22

From Days of Stone

by Teresa Hawkes

What child army at play
in backyards everywhere
has not built
crude approximations
of Stone Circles,
those remnants
of the childhood
of our civilization,
when every shape of Nature bore the heavy weight
of divine significance
arising from the unknown
to mold our fears,
our dreams,
our intellects?
These were the first shapes
we imposed on our world,
separating us
irrevocably from what It
had always imposed on us,
from which the storied halls of Greece,
Rome,
Moscow,
London,
Paris,
New York
all eventually grew.
We have forgotten
who we were then—
subtle, fanciful children,
seeking transcendence
of death,
hunger,
fear,
tentatively giving shape to the unknown
through stories,
rituals,
laws.
Nowadays we imagine sorcerers
possessed of mystical powers
strode the earth way back then
casting stones here and there
by means and methods
the magicians alive today,
who send rockets to Mars
and people to the Moon,
will never comprehend,
but that just goes to show
how fancifully childlike
we still can be,
failing as we often do to notice
we have made our ancestors’
most fantastic aspirations
real—
driven away cold, hunger,
the dark of night,
set our minds to unraveling
Nature’s deepest secrets,
set our sights even upon
understanding our own natures well enough
to bring about
universal peace.
In honor of all this,
go.

Stand by the ancient stones
at midnight
on the day of your choice.
Look up into the sky
toward the plains of Mars
where tokens we have placed
now stand
to which our descendants
will someday return
from journeys we can only begin to imagine,
passionately pursuing,
wherever they will,
knowledge
of the Universe
and Its infinite, subtle workings,
having forgotten
as much about us
as we have forgotten about those
who lie beneath us
in the green Earth,
silent
among the Ages.

c. 2009 TDHawkes

Gaia’s Prayer

Sandy Vrooman

circles
swirling words
and winds dancing
around round stars
and the redwood sees
sending out shoots
in a circle
swirling around
the mother tree
her demise feeds
the next generation
as she takes nothing
only giving
of herself
in circles
those that can see
realize there are circles
of circles
wherever we look
and we take care
not to break these chains
leaving all now
not taking
not using
more than we need
leaving what is left
for the future
blessed be

© 2009 Sandy Vrooman

Brilliant Blue Sky

Sunlight streams through the window

Falling pale yellow on the

Cool

Linoleum floor.

Air buzzes with conversation

Brisk teachers addressing surly students,

Vapid, giggling girls doing their damndest

To remain so.

The sky is brilliant blue (the tired old adage),

Blemished not by cloud,

But blessed not by bee,

Nor bird, nor tree.

There's a subtle

Gentleness in the beauty of the land,

Blanketed by the warmth from above,

Radiant as the face I love most.

(c) Carly Gove

(c) Naze "Rapture"

Illuminating Insight

(c) Alex Chornyj

When you look at yourself in a mirror, what do you see? Is there just one layer to your being or do you have multiple rings like a tree? This is an introspection to delve beneath your waves endeavouring to unveil the true degree to your depths. Each of us in relation to a rainbow can exhibit a multitude of hues. Our physical exterior represents our shell or infrastructure while we are here during this revolution. Each circle counts as one life in an evolutionary process. Every thought, dream and experience is embedded within these lines of a flowing mosaic. We may not have a clear recollection of each day, but chambers in our sub-conscious field retain them succinctly as if each one happened just yesterday. One example is that most have had feelings of déjà vu -- when you come upon a place for the first time only to realize that you have such a strong sense of familiarity that you know it like the back of your hand. Other times you may actually have that eye staring state of a daydream. Friends wave their hands in our face or snap their fingers in order to wake us up. What in actuality occurs is that we have travelled far beyond our current domain to vicinities that hold the keys to open doors to a higher clairvoyance.

For many this may sound farfetched and be a huge leap of faith, but there’s far more to us than what meets the eye. There is a connectedness between humans and all other forms of life. The definition encapsulates the micro to the macro, from a neutrino to a blue whale, from physical to spiritual to ethereal. This requires an open mind that can perceive the possibilities and potential of a universe without fences. Each of us is an individual with our own unique set of ideas and corresponding belief system. Some people are more in tune with an inner chord that speaks to them in a melody of rhythms. It’s an almost between the lines sound, but one that is characterized by these soft, nudging wavelengths. Ones that gently lead us by an ebb and flow into an empowered vision. For it is true that to comprehend others, one must first understand themselves. To be in touch with oneself in an unobstructed view which reveals each strata in a defined and perceived lineage. This means the nerve endings reach deep down into our roots evoking responses from a reservoir of elucidating prisms.

(c) Erial Ali "Lumia Gift Temple final"
Once you are at this transcendental point your story can begin to be told in its entirety. A continuity from your inception to the current contour evolves from a faint sketch to a detailed articulation. With this interaction comes a strengthening pulse. This provides the impetus for the creation of a bonding sage that permits one to become a savant about their own ascension. With this awareness in hand, steps can be retraced to enhance a kinship within oneself. A reflection of images develops a lasting impression which leaves its indelible mark upon our persona. A loneliness or emptiness is replaced by a sense of completeness in regards to making a person no longer feel like a stranger in their own land. A group of once asymmetrical angles becomes a single, cohesive, synchronistic window pane of coherent transparency. This then promotes a series of unifying stages to form a complementing latitude of illuminating insight.

Now as you gaze upon your waters these shimmers intertwine. A star begins to appear which you recognize as your own. The coming of this dawn upon your horizon represents a shift to a higher degree in sparkling revelations. It’s like pushing through that opening during the birthing process which allows you to re-acquaint yourself with your inner being. How humbling it is to find that silver lining which contains all of the threads from those cumulative walks. The passages converge upon one line in an array of enlightening premonitions. This simultaneous synthesis entails a collaboration to reach fulfillment within one’s entity. A oneness is present that gives rise to an explanation about your now seamless lengths. One merges into another in an infinite alignment of telling embers. A warmth finds its way to your surface and in so doing you feel comforted by a knowingness.

Now that you have grasped the beauty of your own picture you place yourself within the backdrop of an eclipsing moon. You acknowledge a greater presence as an appreciation again expands your peripheral acuity. You cherish each day and moment as your inhalations fill you with a calmness. As you walk, you do so with a competence and confidence. As your hand passes down your opposite arm you sense a tingling motion like keys being pressed on a piano. Then an invigorating breeze combines with an accentuating influence from a meandering cloud. The raindrops shower you with an effervescence that elevates you to your next plateau unveiling life’s intricate design. As you enter this valley you observe lines on its surface which non-coincidentally match the marks on your palms. As you place your hands into the earth an ancient mantra is heard climbing upon the wings of an endowing mystical eagle.

With All The Elements

(c) Jane Olivier

Not with flowers and Hallmark cards
or quickened hot steamy gasping breath,
although these too are available;
or with crumpled damp bed sheets and
haphazardly shed clothing floor tiles -
while not inapplicable - casual.

I early morning breeze love you
wafting through each pore of life stirring
leaves, launching chaos butterflies.
Flowing river runs not through it
it is the river – not any river –
constant, wide, undammed, always free.

Gentle, continuous loving rain
drenches barren heart soil germinating
dormant feel seeds into plains of gold.
Love’s lightning bolts burn away weeds
fleet-footed worthy creations safe;
deadweight dross consumed in flames.

This grounding earth will sustain you
firmly holding roots, stature tall, branches
shade lovers’ cheeks caressing your leaves.
Whom Elementals love, live lightly -
serenaded by fairies, fed by gnomes,
elves weave their garments, gods stand guard.

TALLSHIP for EARTH CARE

In 1969, the year of the Moon-Walk and the smash-hit "Aquarius" from the musical Hair, I
received a profound dream vision, remarkable in clarity and detail, of a precious moment of collective happiness and fulfillment showcased on national television [well-scripted, with orchestral music intro], to present a remarkable global eco-living project - including collective voyaging aboard a large white oceangoing tallship schooner, plus state-of-the-heart residence in 6 land-based holistic eco-cities, each designed for harmony-generation via a unique circular Zodiacal landscape pattern.

Accepting this vision, I spent years in research, residing in foreign lands. Living frugally, I juggled minimal resources, made continual conceptual re-fits [ie. naming the project G.L.O.B.E. in the 1970s, and GlobalCP in the 1980s], and won tight budget-battles, to shape the goals defined. In Toronto, I ran a niche bookshop for 1-1/2 years. I then wintered in Glastonbury; spent Spring at Findhorn, Scotland; and summer at Bath. In Australia, I almost launched a specialist magazine in Sydney, but was pre-empted by a skilled rival.

In 1977, I created a 3-day World Environment Day Festival in Brisbane's K. George Square. Later, in North America, I volunteered at L.A.'s World Symposium on Humanity, and also at Toronto's 1st Global Conference on the Future - and sat on an Energy panel with Bill Mollison [Founder of Permaculture]. I also resumed formal studies, gaining 2 grants from the Royal Society of Arts, London. And so it went - Victoria, Vancouver, Sydney ... I consciously sought out many people, and chance-met many others, in the most unexpected ways. Despite setbacks, a fabulous expert team, with extraordinary, positive mindsets and eco-city building skills is forming. This is the basic outline:

TALLSHIP for EARTH CARE Sail Training & Marine Studies --

All are invited to join our exciting project -- to form a Foundation, to fund an oceangoing Tallship training-vessel, a floating a/v communications centre, to teach at sea with public seminars, workshops, exhibitions, and multi-media programs in ports around the world, to showcase the holistic lifestyle for planetary transformation, including Earth Care, rapid reforestation of mangroves, inter-species natural habitat land-sea communication, plus dive eco-tours, and undersea archaeology.

Together the mini-city vessel, plus eco-tours, and studies groups, will research-develop the unique urban designs of 6 circular international eco-cities.

The special design of each circular city will be undertaken by a mixed team of cosmologists, landscape planners and regional and town planners. Here are some details:

ANCIENT FUTURES: Potential Role of the Heavens and of Geometry in 21st C. City design. Extraordinary details of complex ancient systems of Earth's Town & Country Planning order and Social Management are being rapidly disclosed by excited and amazed researchers, as recent published studies of the ancient role of Geometry and giant Landscape Effigies in existing International Urban and Regional Landscape Designs and Planning affirm. A galaxy of remarkable texts must be evaluated, and discussions presented, to develop ideal goals for future "as above so below" City-Rural habitats and Land Usage.

We must first understand and attest to the highest levels of Lifestyle Systems attributes which engaged past civilizations, to avoid manifesting 21st C. Cities at below-par to past human-harmonics elevated standards. We have thus an ongoing interest and duty in understanding how Earth's amazingly complex past knowledge of Urban & Regional Planning evolved and why, each City's in-most idea and purpose. What may have been altered, why and when, what systems lost, what recoverable, what is the potential ongoing significance for all civilized cultures on this planet of revising and upgrading their Earth Systems accordingly? Thus we have created the research and study discussion group: EarthZodiacsResearch · Terrestrial Cosmological Art & Artefacts.

This group's introduction commences: "Welcome. Our goal is to advance wisdom, as we explore Earth Zodiac Lands, their heaven-on-Earth, Holy Grail-Avalon themes, Ancient Mysteries, dragon-leys, and such, around the world. We will form a foundation to co-create a lasting record of interest to researchers of inspired and ethical high cultures." ...

Mel Erskine-Richmond

NOW!!!!

Before there was a before
(There wasn't even a then)
Something from nothing
The time to begin.

From smaller than a pin prick,
Heavier than every black hole,
The universe suddenly WAS
Flying out, without control.

Matter suddenly was
But so anti-matter, too,
Meeting and annihilating
(Billions of times a second)
Perhaps the universe was through!

Nothing remaining -
The universe would be done
Except for every ten billion bits
of anti-matter made
Of matter there were
ten billion ... and one!

And so of that one -
That oh so important one -
Out from the billions that were lost
You and I have come.

Billions and billions of ones, those ones
Flying outward into the dark
Universe that had just begun.
(You couldn't see – there was no spark.)

Each an individual bit
And nothing much more,
All separate and alone,
Solitary, by the score.

But then - a great force
rippled throughout,
Creating attraction -
between particles (no doubt).

What was that force
That saved us from a fate -
From isolated oblivion
And a cold universe so great?

Some call it Gravity
Below, behind, beneath and above,
But for those who are drawn together
We know it as LOVE!

Coming closer and closer
In the great dance of attraction
Bits of matter were busy
Getting a piece of the action!

Two bits tangoed together
And then many, many more
Billions and trillions joined the party
Quadrillions and quintillions galore!

Faster and faster
The dancers they spun
From the heat of their passion
(And then in brief union)
Fusion had begun!

And such was the size
Of this great gathering so compliant
That the star thus created
Was a super massive (blue or red) Giant!

From out of the darkness
There now issued light
Illuminating the universe
BEHOLD, what a sight!

Millions and billions of births
Across the universe so new
And so galaxies gathered
And the Milky Way, too.

And lo, in the Milky Way
Among the super giants
There on the edge was born Tiamat
Chaos incarnate – and defiant!

So great she was
So fast – she knew!
But the bigger they come,
The quicker they're through!

And so inside Tiamat
(Among those billion and ones)
Changes were happening:
The “digestion” of our suns.

Behold the first alchemy -
Transmuting an element
From Hydrogen to Helium
(The most common and prevalent.)

From Helium to Carbon
And then Oxygen, too,
Next Silicon – we're getting heavy,
And with Iron, we're through.

Iron – so very heavy,
Heavier by the score,
That when it was at the center
At Tiamat's core -

She got indigestion
At her core, her stomach all bloated
With iron, like a rock
It suddenly imploded.

In just a quarter second
Tiamat collapsed,
But the recoil was quicker
And, my, it was FAST!

Tiamat – the giant – was no more,
As they say, it was all “ova”
For now this stellar giant
Had gone supernova!

And thus while in her digestion
Tiamat's alchemy brought us some
Of the elements, it took her demise
To bring us the much heavier ones.

Magnesium and Potassium,
Silver, Gold and yes, Platinum,
Sulfur, Mercury, Antimony and Lead,
Uranium, Plutonium and all the radioactives
(not dead).

From the ashes of Tiamat
These new elements were now flung
Out into the cosmos
Whence it had all begun.

And other super giants
lived and died, too
Went supernova, and exploded, and thus
Seeded the galaxy through.

And from all this star “stuff”
Came little “Sol”, our own sun.
Condensing out of the chaos
That Tiamat had flung.

And thus from gravity's dance
Others - were now formed,
Circling Sol: nine planets -
Asteroids, meteors (and comets too) stormed

And just at the right distance
Between too hot and too cold,
Formed Terra, Earth, Gaia,
(Names she has, and she holds).

The third from Sol's light
Grew and thus became so
That rains fell upon the planet
Forming oceans of H2O.

And it was within these oceans
That the miracle was to start.
Listen now to the great story
Of life's beginning: Gaia's art.

THE ZOOSPHERE

Adam Tepper rolls into his Zoosphere

with his tape capsules ready to go on.

Eva, always more earthy and aventuresome,

is eating a Mars bar.

Adam puts on his Zoosphere tapes of the

1950's : ''Kitsch and the Popular Tradition,"

followed by McCarthy and Stalin's recorded

voices dubbed in their respective wild

threats sent out over the prince of the air

waves to millions with dubbed in applause

lines in the waiting rooms, hotel lobbies,

locker rooms, sweat lodges.sports stadiums,

and parliaments all over outer space in the universe.

Next heard: Rock and roll psychiatrists

analyze the sesational new music groups,"The Cannibals", "Closet Cases"

"The Fly By Nights".

Adam puts on the seventies in his

space capsule, "Years of Sputkniks and

Nudniks" ," Esoteric Guides to the Unperplexed student of aviation and creation", " Napalm as seen through the hands of Vietnamese palm readers" in an

audio by A. Nerd, professor of poly sci

at Cambridge, and excerpts from "Strike

it Rich" and I'll cry tomorrow."

Turning the dial to the eightees

Adam goes up to the second heaven

strapped in with Eva listening to lectures

on acid rain ,survivalism, pollution and

overpopulation.

The couple blast away to the ninetees

deconstructionism, Clintonism, on the Zoosphere arriving at a space station intact

as Adam removes the tapes from Eva's

stomach and spends the night appropriately alone listening to 'Moon River."

broken sunsets. dismal rain.
(c) Lovely Claire Dangalan

skyscrapers pierce the heavens
on high. i sigh. sigh.
gargantuan structures obscure the vast landscape
that used to be a forest,
that used to be a glade,
that used to be a desert,
that used to be a mountain; a hill. all seems still.
the acid rain pours ferociously
as engines weep, picking up velocity, screaming & screeching
and people run like zombies; in haste, we scramble
to partake of our serving of the daily grind. bitter. acrid. rancid. unpleasant.

you don’t see me. nor they, you.
drops of rain obscure our reflections in the glass. we pass. judgement.
in the darkness, we grope
make way. make way.

where does this path lead to?
we end life so we can create
we destroy in order to flourish
we have laughed at what we should have wept for. ought to have wept for.
we are blind and we know it
we blind ourselves some more
the path leads back to you. me. us.
the life we obliterate is our own.

we chase dreams
fantasies where each one is king or queen
of the world…
… the earth we have ruined.
lifeless. barren. empty.
the path leads back to you. me. us.
the life we obliterate is our own.

yet we hope. i hope. must hope.
let your eyes hover... see what is left
for us to build on. now.

i must learn to love myself
it is the only way
i can love you. all of you.

love yourself. so you can love me.

i am on a journey; reflecting on
the path that leads back to you. me. us.
the life we create is our own.

there is still life to celebrate after all
beyond
the broken sunsets. dismal rain.

Solitaire 373v16

This early blizzard we all expected —
down on dizzy shops and the tourist lake.
The mountains are fading — Langdales, Crinkle Crags,
tamed by a name and spot-height on the map.
Climbers come here to buy special gear.

In this empty house, solitaire on the piano.
(Somewhat shamed by a sly idea:
power of Being, if someone else should overhear.)

To look up now from this granite village:
up there, rocky knolls, granite scars, quartz.
Down here on the valley floor a few cows still.
Familiar hills too easily estranged.

Now blown snow passing by, settles on
our boundary, dark green yews.
(A Christmas card once you drop your guard.)
My window outstares everything.

A ragged crow flopping down the street for road-kill.
Behind this modern house, in the deep dark ghyll,
our waterfall's in spate, snow falling on waters falling...

copyright Gerald Solomon

oOo

View From The Hill 325v22

But those prime candours of lone experience—
with wonder, misgivings, both!
To keep them, your perceptions, decide:
what you tell yourself you will uphold...

Breezy this morning, up on our local hill.
Looking down to Pitstone's vacant ponds—
dark glass, and implicate a passing sky.
Something not understood expected there...

Necessary order, imposed.
Still, between this book and the far view
from this bench in an untidy yard,
I'm sure of my garden fence, neighbour houses.

A determined bee hums by, following instructions.
I share it's flight-path, that is all.
But a qualm, as if some loose echo
blurts in my inner ear.

copyright Gerald Solomon

oOo

(c) Jude Cowell "Spooky Dream Forest"

Agrarian Age

In Spring we speak of seeds
bundled possibilities
foreseeing market days hale and fair
succulent fruit, trilling herbs,
vitalizing veggies
and all the spicey chatter of conviviality

First there was the seed
plowed under to taste Earth,
swell with water,
burst into fecund brew building
cells of chlorophyll to catch the fire,
symbiotically breathe, exchanging
death for life

Sacred seed
clothed in mystic ceremonies
deeply deified in chthonic memory
We carry the seed of our fathers,
the tears of our mothers,
the hopes and fears of our priests and lords,
over rocky terrain, in hidden caves through
ice and flood and slavering predation,
never doubting nobility of destiny
On appointed days, carefully watching solar/lunar
alignments,
our assigned labor commences. Busy as any
bird or bee, we commit seed to chosen ground
with all the love we can command
Then, off to bacchanalia, reveling in a grand scheme
promising sustenance, renewed strength, plans,
romances, unnumbered chances for pride
and glory

Thus goes the story we retell in lullaby,
in schoolyard intimacies and scholarly lies,
puffing up our little share of knowledge, magical
protection from overwhelming vastness
of mystery, shades of colors without name

Unclear on the protocol of shame, unwilling to admit
to ignorance that might unsettle carefully laid
hierarchies, unloose gates inviting chaos or worse,
we gather of our fruit for sacrifice to gods of greed and vice,
gleefully watch the rending of they who are not me

"I, too wise for such ill use, repeatedly proven
in my abuse of these ill-named foes I refuse to admit
as kin -- sinners, Lord. Surely I'll not be taken in,
not take them in. Not share the bounty of your seed,
given to the chosen."

Even in these days of polluted soil, of toil
demoted to laughable commodity,
idly watching waste stream into murky rivers,
enjoying occasional feasts of vicarious blood,
throwing the unsanctified into the raging flood,
desperately trying to stem an unquenchable tide,
while hiding any glimpse of remorse lest shadow
presage disaster
Folly of fake nobility --
eating both fruit and seed, rather than part with
comfort of fantasy

Laurie Corzett/libramoon

Artwork Subject to Copyright (c) Jhana Bowen "Tantra and the Art of Man"

SPRING SHADOWS

Spring shadows
you at every memorable
landscape
and like a poet
returns to accompany
its carnivorous lilacs
with its sweep of wind

even in dream seasons
over white mountains
in horozontal flights
when green is absent
or on wounded hours
silencing sycamores
below the earth,
she is only hiding
on grassland
searching for metaphors.

copyright BZ Niditch

SOUNDINGS

Morning opens
its yellow umbrellas
by the sea bird bed
dunes hear
the jealous breezes
of my sax
playing cool riffs
along woodwinds
unfolding risky images
an underground poet
understands.

copyright BZ Niditch

Artwork Subject to Copyright (c) Jhana Bowen "This Embrace"

Canto II. The Bathory Witch’s Prayer

Twenty years between us my love, twenty years
And twenty prayers a day I spoke to our Father.
He answered with a letter and a thousand virgins.
Now I know a bath in their blood is better than betrayal.
Let the flies sing my litany and Libitina be my Saint;
She alone baptized me with the spells of the wicked
And I rose from the muddy water to fertile
The garden of beasts and beauties.

I want what the body wants; what the soil
Fed us in the beginning. From the dirt to the flesh,
And to the blood and back, the Ladies of the Limbs
Are sacrificed to the service of my Vestal Virgin.
Now we will be sisters in eternity and Lilith
Shall rapture us unto the gates of fire.

Twenty years between us my love, twenty years
And twenty ways shall I purify and penetrate you
With Holy Hands and the sins of a Serpent.
Your love became daggers and now they are kin, because
The Prophet was wrong and the Fallen are good.
Those screams from hell are the moans of pleasure
As we revel in the vengeance to come.

Though the stones may cover me now and the light
Will torture my eyes with absence, remember my love
The twenty years between us as the sisters
Of the Vestal Virgin ignite you with eternal kisses.

copyright John-Arthur Ingram

Sonnet Quintad--To Earth, My Love

Robert David Michael (Cerello)

False minds, false concepts, false priorities--

Isn't it quite enough that foolish minds

Now strike the sane each day with rods of crime

And then hold inquest, seeking how to find

Some way to shift dire punishment's keen edge

Upon the guiltless also? Judges' work,

Critics' strong charge, evaluators' help

Or barring of each man--it's these at first

And these at last slaves lack...All else, concrete,

Extends, makes clear or proves the bad or good

In founders' science. Our lives we complete

As citizens; yet visionaries drew

Our rules of action. Science (at base) goes flawed;

Hope flags, Reform's denied, Virtue's not strong...

Scenes that lack for beauty (thus) never please.

Beauty is foresight execution, form,

Blueprint and act. Beauty is summer's storm,

Its lightning effect; it is the pow'r of breeze,

Of tempest, rain and snow-clear clarity.

It is the scent of wonder known in the mind

Which hastes to do strong deeds. Beauty is wine,

A glad libation drunk by the festal, free,

Untrammeled mind. Formality must read

(Soon or late) paeans penned in Beauty's praise.

Passing through noisy battles of their days,

Victors' demand for certitude must be fed.

Beauty's the goddess of all things which are,

All pillared mights. It cannot please the mind

To omit Her praise sung by some glorious bard...

So to the Earth, we her strong sons speak love;

Our daughters busy hands and hearts with this--

Respect and honor... If we deny or miss

Or hoard respect, all acts which then are done,

All executions lack an inward core

Of potent realism. Each day's length

Then turns mere burden to our human strength,

A sullying of Nature. Gaia has stored

Rich basis for our future, our delight,

Our joi de vivre; but those who grasp for power

Must be responsibles. He wastes his hours

Who lays space-time to waste; he brings down Night

Who shuns the light of Reason, Gaia's theme:

"Morality's what works long-term on Earth".

Her banner? Synonym for "what is real".

Now we've two worlds--ours--Gaia's--and too theirs.

Reconciliation? This cannot be.

Their way must be suppressed, exposed, stamped--these--

Exterminated as one would end sparks, flares,

Some fire that can eventually burn down

The longhouse, the White House, all the works of men.

We can't have fanatical anti-thisworlders bent

On false ideas such as unitary tsars (crowned)

Infallible CEOs, heaven on Earth

Dominion irresponsibile (pragmatic cults),

Or fantasy arguments of Platonic flaws

In men and science. Moral ethics (stern)

Disqualify those pretenders' arguments.

Overt philosophical proofs and truth--

Clear realistic concepts--must defeat lies and them.

Mention their names not, not ever-- Truth rejects

Fanatic ideas. Yes, disempower we must

All pseudo-libertarians. We can't as nation build much

Using minds mad for bricks and mortar. Such lack

In their syrupy gush about altruism or worse

Aimed toward the "least, poorest, neediest";

Then we can't turn to statists who at best

Are concrete bound thugs of faith or weapons. The Earth

Needs our moral stance, rights of selves, clean thought

As the one measure of constitutional rights.

Sans categories, no science is--dulled minds

Must soon fall prey to irrational arguments,

Mystic-tyrannous tribal pretensions (then).

A society of realists--Gaia's seed:

We must plant reform now in the minds of men!

We must be one with Gaia, never oppose

Nor seek to ride roughshod over her strong works.

Each dawn her wisdom's seen, her birds' songs heard,

Her storms and zephyrs felt. It is to those--

Her simplest benisons granted to honest minds

Who invest hours of gratitude in her wealths

And build up on her foundation as honest selves

That my mind speaks now. The country of the blind

Not only breeds danger to the sighted man

But to its closed-minded tyrants and mob, who stand

In peril of missing purpose, whose unjust stance

Accuses repair, reform and skillful hands

Who'd bring the Future forward, the long-result,

The faultless ideas whose love is for matter, Life,

Time and potential--Gaia's vision lived full...

Now, we will conquer Time--at least to use

By men not absurd (postmodernist), not insane.

Yes, primitive rockets shall roar and spout gold flame--

And by this pillar of fire, Terrans will loose

The bonds of prison Earth...In Ages to come--

In shining starships--they shall make cities gleam

Aloft in night, 'round suns; on worlds they'll breed

The species of future triumphs, raise cities and homes,

Learn lessons of planets and systems scarcely dreamed.

This Diaspora, this Galactic Noon,

This Day of Galactic Man, this search for room

In which to delve Space-time's strange truths and heed

(At last) the call to heroism's strife

Against all phyla of flaw, injustice, and pain--

This is Gaia's batlle, her Way, called LIFE!

Climate Change

Steady chilly rain of
irritations, build into pools of
rage, a sea of tears.
Paddling, that old canoe splinters through.
Dreary, filthy floodwater, always needs bailing.
I am sore with life,
bruised, blood-stained, a sorry sight.
I cry out to Gaea's strength, brutal acceptance.
My body aches to mend in healing
bend and release,
graceful hypnotic
dance, deeply breathing puissant sea air.
Expanding horizons beckon. Waves of welcome
extend hand to hand,
beyond gravity, above
bountiful sea. Feel the moonlight,
gently embrace, then,
twirl me grandly into cosmic glee.
Exhilaration, peace beyond compassion,
beyond evidence of empty space between.
Ebb and flow. Drought and tsunami.
Guiding beacon, or oncoming train.
The underworld is flooded, rotting
stench escalates to outrage.
We on the surface busily scramble
to survive. In this torrent of madness
floats keys to magical caverns beneath the sea.
It is a fine era for purveyors of diving gear
and we with will to learn
new methods of breathing.

libramoon

// 01:04

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