Millennia ago, there was another birth . The birth of a common man, born into poverty, ill health and social turmoil. He was unable to rise to even the least of civilization’s pleasures. He was born into a Middle East not unlike what it is today. As a child in Nazareth he walked beside the very same childhood footsteps as the one we celebrate this season. He grew up with no hope or special divine destiny and lived as a practical man. He grew to be angry and watched as his childhood acquaintance rose to what he thought as foolish infamy. And watched as his friend was wrongly executed. Unable to understand, he pondered the loss, in the same way as we do after the death of a family member or close childhood friend. Denying the existence of devine guidance, his lament deplored the God his friend professed to love and the God that allowed this injustice. With fist raised, he stood.

Judgement on us?
Spread Your sooted wings and hover over me,
you the vengeful knotted Being that puked our lives,
you who cast our souls into worm infested flesh leaving us to fend alone.
Born wet, naked and hungry.

Being of all knowledge, Sharer of none, You, the all demanding,
Demanding obedience to unattainable laws,
Creator of jealousy, Inventor of greed and Planter of ego
I despise those that concocted You and the kind that follow You
You are here only because of the cold sweat they wept while in their bedclothes

If it be, I will see You in your Hell
But for me, I believe I will only live gently and then fade to dark.

DSS

From within it’s formed, the Goliath thought.
the idea from wisdom’s wealth.
It has no texture, touch or feel,
only the vapor mist of the image sought.

From restless sleep, the reoccurring dreams
are sequenced as on silver film.
There is no canvas, script or clay,
but they are as real as forged iron beams.

But from these fleeting and frail mindful hones
grand ideas take on real life. 
Unlike giants of human flesh, 
are not brought down by slung single stones.

DSS

Mojo back. That’s what you call it. When will I get my Mojo back? Have you got your Mojo back? You don’t have to put an accent to it. It’s just Mojo, plain and simple.

While you are talkin about no Mojo you can use “ain’t” a lot. You can drop your g’s in the i-n-g’s like, “I ain’t doin nothin about findin my Mojo”. You can do that because you ain’t got none. You don’t know no better. Oh, you will use double negatives, too.

Nobody knows where their Mojo goes. They just know that it’s gone. Away, far away to where you don’t know where. Just gone. You capitalize Mojo cause it’s a big deal. But you don’t know it til it’s gone. You may not know it when you got it. You just know it when it’s gone…..

I lost my Mojo maybe last week, don’t know when, I just realized all of a sudden, I ain’t got none! Mojo that is. You feel sad, real sad and you walk slow with no Mojo. You walk slow, you talk slow and you feel real low with no Mojo. Mojo is a good thing to have. You want to keep it but you ain’t got no chance. It’s goin ta leave when it wants ta.

Mojo…back.

DSS

Why do I hesitate?
putting words in the improper order
syllables uncounted
spelling uncorrected
dreaming of the moon the clouds the good the wonder
daring to say it
the beauty of the mind set free

DSS

I have nothing here, but I’m searching, or I should say I have nothing new finished. So as it seems I’ve been doing regularly lately, something I wrote a couple years ago, perhaps during a more inspiring time. But I think I still like this one and most of you haven’t seen it before. So I hope you enjoy.  

Sunday August 22, 2010

In my time for the search for peace
no bitten lip have I
I care not how I’m looked upon
against a fading sky

As the stronger breezes blow
I sway a clinging leaf
No jetted jaw tightens my grasp
no words to give relief

For those that say they care for me
please hold your caring tongue
Do not despair your loving souls
my search has just begun

As I climb please remember this
I toil not just for me
For on the day my quest is found
you too the peace will be

DSS

And now, a public service announcement:

On a completely different note, how many millions of people, grew up with, watched with their children or baby sat their grandchildren, while watching Sesame Street on PBS. I count 4 generations in my family alone. Do they realize just how many they are alienating, saying they are going to close down PBS.

We had terrible TV reception and FM radio coverage many years ago before cable, but one TV channel and a couple of FM radio channels we could depend on coming in clearly was PBS. That was because it had public funding on public airwaves and it was free. One or two public channels over the air of the hundreds of commercial channels that we could depend on with out paying for it. I know my kids were enthralled by it and learned to tell time waiting for their programs to start on TV. As much as we hate the fund raising, PBS is a very good thing. The airwaves are a national public natural resource, we the public deserve a few channels we can call our own. The airwaves are our’s.

Not all airwave resources, channels or media needs to be owned by the single corporation, Clear Channel. They own over 850 commercial radio stations and TV and radio related services. Just Google and Wiki ”Clear Channel”, you shouldn’t be surprised who is in very deep with them.

E.

As the fogs of Fall silently move in and nestle so close to the harvest fields,
we stare deeply into them.
Not knowing what is within the first few feet of us is not unsettling,
it is comforting.
Comforting in that nothing else, just feet distant, can see us either.
Within these small bounds we are alone, hidden and unnoticed.
Even our sounds are kept from escaping.
No horns are blown and no bells are rung here.
We have no fear of collision, only fear that the fog will lift too soon
and we’ll once again be visible, watched, expected to perform.
But while the thick fogs remain,
we cuddle,
we are forgotten
and we take our much needed rest. 
Then like a purring cat, tail swaying, the brume moves on to the bottom glades and turns to mist,
the sun appears and once again the expectations of the day are upon us.

DSS.

Slowly passing summer’s beginning
never pausing or varying my track
Tilting more toward the sun
through the blackness of space
I travel the course without feeling
the only sense of where I am is by 
Following sunlight through windows

Stellar light is cast upon me
I bask in it’s depth and warmth
All that is depends on my movement
Even as I appear to change course
back to the outer reaches of where I began
Unvarying, never pausing, always there 
As if I am spinning in deep grooves

July 1, 2010

DSS

End of the day’s grind,
cool water relief .
Ache of muscle, knuckle and steel toed foot
carries a bent spine walk.
Tired knowing eyes stare down on the sweat dusted shirt that covers sunburned neck and arms 
Thinking of the day’s earned pay and sandwich reward
and rest.
Calm, quiet …… rest.

DSS

The knife of love cuts deep
It wounds to white bone
And drains life to the floor
Not easily dressed
slashed tendons
under loosely wrapped bandages
Bleed and so slowly heal

DSS