Thursday, February 05, 2009

Rate Of Change

BostonMassacre

Increasing, are border principles of faith and forgiveness.
Time, in relative degrees, dictates
Actions of speed and speed of action.
Can we speak in clear terms?

We are in a period of retraction,
The teardown before reconstruction.
This is the sound when paradigms die.
It is a moment where we see for seemingly the first time
The height of Bullyshyt gripping our knees.

Turn off the Telecasted mono-mind Vision.

Who are you;
What are you prepared to do
If the system that sustains civilization
Hiccups, slows, or stops?

How do you fight the emerging combination
Of Industry and Government?
(i.e., the base definition of Fascism)

I can’t resist letting the poetry slide into diatribe.
The measure of our hours is growing ever more critical.

Estimate your truth, now.

Aside, this damned mixing of the right brain, left brain!
It’s as if half of our heads was invaded
In the deep past by some parasite seeking symbiosis.
It lives in your head as:
I have a gun, I have a flower;
I see a flower, I see a gun;
I am a gun, I am a flower.

No body is building anything any more.
Only money is being created.

It affects prices.
But not in the neighbor/neighbor barter situation.

God speaks to us in whispers between
The top of the hour and the first minute.

Poetry of life; Prose of life.
Meter your reality to the taste
Of beauty and continuance.
And to the stripes, the layers acknowledged
Betwixt personal definitions between.

Dude I need to see the rest of the movie!

Life in youtube-esque clips.

Rate of truth.
Measure of you.

Keep your debt free,
Your heart clean,
And your powder dry.

Orwell on Kipling:
“He sees clearly that men can only be highly civilized while other men, inevitably less civilized, are there to guard and feed them.”

I am fearing the overly civilized men, the elite.
I fear that their abuse of civilization shall affect my hours,
Shall affect my view of men, as they become a mass,
Shall affect how less civilized I may have to become to protect
What remains of our better nature.

The details are in the devil
And I adhere to the principle,
I am not the devil.

Fear is responsibility.
Locality is becoming the first Rule.

Civil War?
Is this 1862?
Where is Lincoln?
Do we need to be these united states?
Do we begin to question the reach and claim
Of the District of Columbia?

What sense in Paine?

2 comments:

BirdMadGirl said...

This one makes me anxious. But as with everything - I love what you've written.

And I'm thankful I have you on my team if all goes to shit. Well, you and Miss Lucy.

mosaica said...

"We are in a period of retraction,
The teardown before reconstruction.
This is the sound when paradigms die.
It is a moment where we see for seemingly the first time
The height of Bullyshyt gripping our knees."

This piece particularly resonates with me both personally and in relation to the outside world around us all.

I'm soooo glad to read your writing again...