Marriage

Someone said the hand you hold
Is the hand that holds you down
Slowing your progress
Cooling your fire
Tapping your speed
Changing your direction
Redirecting as best can
A racing steed filled with passion,
Power holding on and reined back
Struggling, fighting
Chomping your bit
You negotiate, gesticulate, masticate
Toward some mutual compromise
Acceptable but distasteful.
So, do you advance under control
Or gallop unhindered?
Civilized or wild?
Bureaucracy or anarchy?
My racing balooning sprit cries to
Shoot forth like a tracer bullet,
Whose fire burns a thousand times
Hotter than petty mortals
He who burns brightest burns fastest
But what a ride!
It's not an easy choice.

Unforgettable Photos

1957. The first day of Dorothy Counts at the Harry Harding High School in the United States. Counts was one of the first black students admitted in the school, and she was no longer able to stand the harassments after 4 days.

January 12, 1960. A second before the Japanese Socialist Party leader Asanuma was murdered by an opponent student.

1963. Thich Quang Duc, the Buddhist priest in Southern Vietnam, burns himself to death protesting the government's torture policy against priests. Thich Quang Dug never made a sound or moved while he was burning.

1962. A soldier shot by a sniper hangs onto a priest in his last moments.

1965. A mom and her children try to cross the river in South Vietnam in an attempt to run away from the American bombs.

1966. U.S. troops in South Vietnam are dragging a dead Vietkong soldier.

February 1, 1968. South Vietnam police chief Nguyen Ngoc Loan shots a young man, whom he suspects to be a Viet Kong soldier.

1972. After South Vietnam planes accidentally drop a bomb on a town

1973. A few seconds before Chile's elected president Salvador Allende is dead during the coup.

1975. A woman and a girl falling down after the fire escape collapses.

1980. A kid in Uganda about to die of hunger, and a missionaire.

February 23, 1981. Colonel Molina ve military police seizes the Parliament building in Spain. The photographer did not expect the scene, and hid the films in his shoe.

1982. Palestinian refugees murdered in Beirut, Lebanon.

1987. A mother in South Korea apologizes and asks for forgiveness for his son who was arrested after attending a protest. He was protesting the alleged manipulations in the general elections.

1989. A young man in China stands before the tanks during protests for democratic reforms.

1992. A mother in Somalia holds the body of her child who died of hunger.

1994. A man who was tortured by the soldiers since he was suspected to have spoken with the Tutsi rebels.

1996. Kids who are shocked by the civil war in Angola.

2001. An Afghani refugee kid's body is being prepared for the funeral in Pakistan.

2002. Soldiers and villagers in IRan are digging graves for the victims of the earthquake. A kid holds his father's pants before he is buried.

2003. An Iraqi prisoner of war tries to calm down his child.

Sorrow

Walking down my path of life
confused by the patter of rain
into my mind I hide
outside your reach I thrive

Running from the life before me
Fleeing from the pain in me

Wishing I was never here
Wishing I was not in this world

Sweet Sorrow
Pain living through tomorrow

Come into my soul
Reach in and take me out
From within this hell I'm in
I can't take this pain anymore

The pain and guilt all well
inside my mind
the depth of tomorrow
within the thoughts of today

Nothing matters when nothings here
see my pain
smell my fear

Crashing like a storm of fire
hitting like a ton of bricks
The pain of the collision
is mine to bear

Where do I go from here
I've made it out of your reach
broke the chains
fate has no hold

Running wild
through the trees
not wanting to be
me

Edge Of Life

Sitting on the edge of life and death
Wondering if jumping would be the best
Not knowing where my life is going
Being pulled in all directions
Which way to go I do not know
Looking to the heavens for answers
Judged and taught not to care
Giving you all I can
And still getting shit on
I tried to tell you
This wouldn't work
Hoped you would listen
Now you complain your heart is broke
Why didn't you listen
To the warnings I gave
Tried to tell you
But now it's my fault
Looking down at the people passing by
Hoping my fall won't be a surprise

Silence

Give me a sharp knife;
I’ll rip all the mist around,
I’ll put and end to the useless life;
Bring voices into death’s sound.

Let me touch the cold metal,
Feel the edge of creation,
The perfection of steel so lethal
Fulfilling my pleasure.

Shining, reflecting life’s tones,
Approached to skin in delicate moves,
The weapon of freedom rose,
As the touch of life I lose.

Give me something sharp
For itches of ignorance
To scratch all those who have no heart,
To stab the place a feeling should replace.

Face them to what they’ve skipped
When learning life’s lessons…
They only ripped
And married ignorance.

Those will only become concrete
When feeling the pain,
The thrills rising from the top of their feet,
The blood rushing in vain.

In A Mind

All alone in this darkness
Wondering why im still alive
In this darkness i sit in silence
Thinking why i took this dive
Head first into hell,
Along this lonely drive
Why am i still alive

Faking happiness for those around
While inside i wither away
Walking along,
Wondering what i did wrong
Thinking if I will make it to the next day
Walking on my lonesome way
All alone i shall lay

Asking myself if i should die
Waiting for the day i do
In this darkness i sit in silence
Pondering what i did to you
I apologize for what i do
Soon i rot, away from you

Dead inside, my silence is forever
Still wondering why
Walking along wondering what i did wrong
All alone i shall cry
Waiting for the day i die
Finally i say good-bye.

Mors Imortalis

Death Immortal
+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+

It Shall never end,
this death from within me,
condescending,
and never ending,
spits on your faces,
reduces numbers in all races,
will always meet in the end,
foreboding,eroding,
drains your life like a pump,
turns you into nothing but slump,
a heap on the ground,you will make not a sound.

This process repetitive,
eventually you'll embrace the final sedative,
You'll die on one day,
and never dismay,
the fact that you've ended,
your soul has amended,
gone to that better place.

To look upon his face,
must cause terror within,
causing pain and disruption,
there is no extension,
there is only decension,
into a fiery pit,
or a holy eden,
wherever you go,
your body,
in time,
will be eaten!

The worms will crawl in,
and the maggots crawl out,
and cause all kinds of gout,
it will hurt not a bit,
so don't worry your head,
that to might fall off,
considering,you're dead.

Night Stalker

You wait on your prey like a buzzard that waits for his prey's death
You have no remorse or regret even if your victims think you lie in wait
Waiting and watching for the right opportunity to watch as your victim's take their last breath
You are sick beyond belief, you are in an awful mental state.

You stalk at night with gun in hand
Killing in the name of Satan but to you it was only fun
To me you are the most insane person in all the land
You always stalked at night never in daylight under the sun.

You broke into houses, savagely raping your female victims before you introduced them to death
After it was all done you had a morbid sense of pride
In your sick mind you were having fun as you watched others take their last breath
The malicious intent you showed your victims, it's like you took evil as your bride.

With pride, with no remorse you robbed, raped, and killed
In the name of Satan you thought you had it made
You have no conscience, I wonder if you even know how to feel
I believe for the crimes you did, in the fiery pits of hell you will forever wade.

During your trial, pentagram in hand, you made your so called God known to one and all
We all know you thought on your knowledge of Satan you were a whiz
But where was Satan when you got caught and took a fall?
Your soul will surely burn forever in hell, Richard Ramerez.

Alone

My, my breath is fading
Fading away into the cold air
The last of my energy
Are all but gone
When will I see them
Those who I have lost in my life
And if I will see them
Will they be as they were alive
Or will they, will I see them as a medusa
Misshaped and lost
Or will I forever walk in loneliness
Between the world of the living and the dead
Forever alone
Like I always did
Alone

My life is coming to its end
There is a hall
A long hall
For now it is white
But what will it be later
Dark, red, purple, yellow
I don’t know
But what do I know I ask myself
For all my life people have ignored me
Giving me the feeling I can’t do nothing
That I am nothing
But now thou all can’t do it any longer
I will see my loved ones back even in this time of my own torment
I can see them
And with last of my energy
My arm is reaching for them
And I can feel her warm fingers in my cold fingers
And now I can finally rest
Freed from the chains of torture that I wore
When I was still alive
But still I know
That I have died
Alone

Succubus

Creature of the night,
entraps with lies,
her touch inflaming passions.

Succubus she,
yours to never be,
her ways mythic in fashion.

Demonly being appears
in your dreams,
succulent wants awaken.

Restless your sleep,
those fears are deep.
Peaceful dreams are taken.

Desires climb
a thousand times
and again forever more.

Last breath, this night,
no struggle nor flight,
succumbing to ancient lore.

Hypnotic, her eyes,
devilishly wise,
you find resisting useless.

The will is gone…
weak smile, she’s won.
Poor man, completely helpless.

Whom she may choose,
resolve will loose,
prey to this ardent beast.

Your soul she has claimed,
empty shell remains…
and in death you find no peace.

Tendencies To Exist

This human race is dedicated to superficial appearances and capricious, vain behavior, it may seem. Plants and animals with exotic character blight earth to have destroyed the “native ecology”. Human stupidity anoints this land everywhere. There are so many people with knowledge. We have become totally confused by knowledge and now elevate its reputation to “intelligence”: but not everywhere in the world perhaps. I have what I call “my wave of attention”. Often this is called concentration but for me it is more like a wave of my virtual spectrum of light. Concentration determines only where my attention will be focused. Usually thoughts jump so fast that we are unaware of their leaping. We regard consciousness as continuous. We perceive a real world of matter around us, persisting in linear time, if we follow the axioms and tenets of western knowledge. We pay no heed to how we know. When I am aware, I know that my consciousness, my focus leaps around endlessly if I allow it to. Clock>monitor>radio station>imagination>radio station>weather>coffee>keyboard...over and over from a>b>c>a>d>e>b>c>fm just beyond our knowing. I “know” that my reading is no different. It is not linear. My vision leaps all over the page at frequencies that delude my common sense.

There are times when tired or meditating eyes truly “see” pages turn to alien hieroglyphs, white space form is predominant, and all meaning turns to total amusement and laughter. The ratios and proportions of the forms of writing disappear and all meaning is lost into a beyond. To let this happen if have to release my significance. I am concentrating, but my wave of attention is attenuated from purpose or meaning or ego. Only by deliberately recognizing another aspect of ourselves is it possible to step outside the set of normal reality and so “see” that normal reality is inconsistent. The question is, of course, how do we live when we are an outsider looking in on the ridiculous behavior of humanity? The isolation and loneliness can be quite severe and we may become insecure, threatened and unbalanced. We may be possessed by an urge to escape from a society and patterns of behavior for which we have lost all respect. Typical ambition begins to appear to be futile.

The real heart of our problem is actually within ourselves. We feel that we have stepped out of the “swamp” of greed and violence but the mud of logic cause and effect sticks to us and we may find a limbo of indecisiveness and confusion. We still want to apply “intellect” in the beyond of intellect. Classically these are the dramas of Zen monks. They sense to believe, that they have escaped from the “world” but they take their baggage of intellect with them. The Masters questions are designed to thrash their logic (ego) out of them. Some monks have been known to meditate for a lifetime on a question such as “the wind blows: the trees bend: who is to blame?”.......or maybe: “can ducks fly away?”

Many times I asked kids that I was babysitting, others questions such as - why is the sky blue? After laughing at their honest efforts to tell I would say, ”Simple, if it were black it would be night time!”
“Can pelicans fly?” they just do! “Why is this car parked on the side of the road?”......well, the man lives at the house and he didn’t want to open and close the gate so he left his car here and walked down the drive. Nice try, but if he had parked it in the road we would have smashed into it! Gentle teasing of their intellect for laughter, what shared pleasure!

No matter what words we write, no matter what metaphysics we explore, no matter how much internal seeking, we are either intellectuals or we are of no significance. A broken mirror is a broken mirror. Ego has a hard and unforgiving boundary. So we have to find our way and have compassion for ourselves. We can jump in and out of significance. We can study, be happy and useful in society, enjoy the wealth and plenty and try to share a little with the less fortunate. We turn our wave of attention outwards. We might make a home where our attention is turned inwards after our forays into the world. The danger is that our homes become mere extensions of the world of significances. We fill them with technologies that never let us rest. a > b > a > c > a > d > f > b. Who we invite to our homes and for what reasons might make our salvation.

I am melted from the idea of my cosmic lover’s voice of intelligence and sensuality. Every sound a cosmic kiss, vibrant with living. My love for her has no significance. I sense her mutual delight. Our waves of attention turn to each other’s pleasures. We spread out beyond the boundaries of ego. Ultimately we are harmonic oscillations. In our “room” there are no televisions, no computers, no phones; we have soft candlelight, incense vapor, old tapestry, and gentle music and each other. We fall and fall from significance and logic and time to find each other’s vibrations of being: turn our waves of attention to each other to kiss and lick and suck and touch and talk and all in a place of moment without knowledge. Does she think that electrical technology might radiate waves of interference into our natural waves of being?

One day I jogged my meadow and few swans danced in the river. They seemed to follow me down the way, surfing the tender waves to nearly standing on the sand. My wave of attention took on the wavelength of the swans until I reached an inner state of such awareness that the whole universe was an orgasm of delight. A woman approached: she was deep in thought; head bowed. I yelled good morning and pointed to my swan fantasy. But she could not see. She was trapped in her own significance. In the city pedestrian zone, I let my wave of attention find the wavelengths of resonance without my interference. I surrender to the bright lights and tinsel and great joy fills me in my surrender. Who sees? Who smiles? Sometimes I wonder how the “intelligence” survives menial laboring?

They smash the pot of their own significance and life is vibrant and brilliant? Rhythmic resonant existence has been stolen from us. Many have never been so at delicious peace as when in harmony with physical repetitive labor in the fields and forests. a > a > a > a > a > a > a > a > a.
In red light they are red, in blue light they are blue, and in my light my cosmic lover is love and all pleasure. Perhaps I may find some times while my worldly significance is abandoned. As I walk my meadow, along the river. Meaningless ridiculous internal sounds of my own vibrations with no significance at all.
When western eyes see the rhythmic rocking of the Taliban to recite the Koran, intellect dismisses them with disdain. But do they have a means to become unworldly, where their lives are individually of no significance? I can never condone their primitive violence but if I rock with them, I can understand the incomprehensible in a flash. This dipole of knowledge and blind ignorance is the ultimate war that has been projected from within every one of us. Science increases our individual ego significant in a world of wealth and privilege. Western economies thrive on ego and fear of its loss.

The female beauty and sexuality and intelligence paradoxically must drive many male egos to their primitive state of possession desire and some female egos to jealousy and conspiracy. My lover has to accept the yin yang of existence and delight in her own experience perhaps, sometimes in the circle of time, sometimes in the timeless circle? We oscillate. We dance.

I wanted to share feelings with women at different times. Always with the same predictable result. Absolutely no peace. No respite from significances. This must be this. That must be that. Merciless continuous insecurity of their ego until I might go mad. Even very well educated. Absolutely no awareness or internal intelligence. The first time in my life happens that I have been able to share my crazy dances with one and you, my love.