Wednesday, August 6, 2014

the Purple Pillow Covers of Paris - the sonnet


"The Purple Pillow Covers of Paris" . .
makes more sense than bombing children for peace.
.  . " they bombed the hospitals just to harass,"
versus : " purple pillows aid rest's release " . .

One is as far from beauty as man from love,
the other - kindness in a world on fumes;
one purpose is enriching sleep's alcove,
the other creating bestial-like dooms.

In times when water may be gone itself,
i prefer special care for a pillow
to humanity's betrayal to the pelf -
why not spit at g_d if you're so macho?

Murder won't make you a sacred subject;
you kill; and so become mammon's project.

jts 6 August 2014
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Sunday, August 3, 2014

synchronicity - the sonnet


synchronicity has five syllables
today it rained; i live in the desert.
when young i read “Dune” and sold Falafels.
today i watched “Dune” - again a convert.

soaking with “Man and His Symbols” opened
to heroes who don’t need us as we them.
Medusa as mama Jung posited.
i've had wives, women ain’t always a gem.

but like rain in a world quickly drying
to see and feel kinship with humanity
right when tyrants flog fear as meaning
our demons teach us how to be free.

it is not to kill, but to live, not to fear
nor frighten, but to welcome joy and tear.

jts 3 August 2014


Sunday, July 27, 2014

Bathtub Poet - the sonnet


I  write my poetry in the bathtub,
more than one hundred sonnets; i like baths.
I promised pop i'd write, and there's the rub -
what one does comes from the heart, not oaths.

The  best part of work is how it feels done .  .
not declarations made before one starts.
I listen to my heart - no place to run,
transmuting sense and events into the "arts."

From words, i've learned pop cared not for swearing,
though my liege; oaths aren't needed to grow trees.
You show them sky and how to seek moistening;
if karma smiles - roots sink, branches bring bees.

Is this poem's persona bees, trees or son . ?
Does it matter ? we shared a soak - what fun . !

jts 072714

Friday, July 4, 2014

An Humble Argument for Worldwide Revolution


What are the odds of these 5 paragraphs effecting an overthrow of world order - then again, who’d have thought I may be amongst the last of human generations? Even in the darkest heyday of nuclear Mutually Assured Destruction (MAD), people clung to the insane notion of surviving a nuclear holocaust. Today there is a sickness inside the human soul, like fruit dying on the vine, or Leonard Cohen’s “heart without a home.” The running dogs of the all powerful are so far removed from the charnel floor they cannot see that the noble human desire to survive which had been harnessed and capitalized on to defeat the Nazis of the planet and her tyrants throughout history has now withered like some exotic cactus suffering climate change. The blindness that comes from ruling by keyboard also informs the hubris of the invulnerable, so what had been a “perfect storm” of technological advances coupled with a deliberate or random spike in fear due to the 9/11 carnage has now facilitated an industry of hatred on a scale unimaginable to any despot ever. Yet like the training of gladiators must have seemed like a good idea at the time to some, that same martial genie is hard to get back in the bottle once uncorked whether it’s used for killing Christians in the Coliseum, or funding militias for the private taking of public property.

As the Roman Empire collapsed into the cultural warren of middle ages, our planet enjoyed a wide cross-pollination of methods for human cooperation and advancement from the trading influence of the nomad, to advances in crop yields from farming clusters. However, as populations expanded war became coin of the realm for defining national boundaries, as well as anointing and normalizing the ruling class for rapidly shifting city-state/nation-states. Those elite individuals or entities able to consistently pick victors no longer required nations for cultural identity, only banks to contain the profits. The ability to dictate the outcome of conflicts and eventually determine the nature of those conflicts eliminated the need for any semblance of democracy and only utilizes the spectacle of royal pageantry and illusion of public scrutiny as straw dogs and quaint appendages from a long gone age of consensus; absolute prerogative has been conveyed to the ruling class using the digital sleight-of-hand. It is at this point in history we rest - an apex between doom and heroism. Conflicts today are no more than a cycle of depletion and renewal which provide little or no security but occupy populations in a superheated state of “fight or flight” from either invaders from without or enemies from within. There is no longer discussion for the cessation of hostilities only the shifting tally of who is vulnerable to whom. We the population of the world have been abandoned by leadership and set upon by corporate overlords whose positions reflect no more than access to either revenue streams, food, fuel or materiel, and of course their armored enclaves wherein they will witness the cataclysms of their amoral ambitions 

The means of production which had been the prime objective of the communist insurrection is now completely subordinated to the emerging media technology for dictating consumer addictions to a quiescent population in thrall and rapidly loosing its inherent capacity for reason to a narrowing spectrum of digital distraction. No longer honing its faculty for critical thinking through innovation from the rigors of survival, the general population is enticed, cajoled or menaced into hysteria and back into quiet by the chimera of state security any threat to which is also used as justification for deteriorating conditions and scarcity of resources. Conditions will continue to decay and the options of those fortunate to have been born into privilege and advantage will exert more control using greater force over the world population which has already been successfully persuaded their enemies are the same screen objects conjured up by the corporate media narrative. Using this very loose framework 1,565 human beings have become the only billionaires on a planet occupied by 7 billion human beings (2.57-e7, .00000257% of the population)- stark testimony to the pernicious lie of war and our lax hold on any capacity for recognizing friend, much less foe. 

It is no longer reasonable to fight for g_d and country when the enemies are some number of the 1,565 billionaires and whatever private armies these petite princes have purchased for protection and anonymity. Of the arguments in favor of worldwide revolution near the top of the list would have to be digital reciprocity, e.g. the right to focus the digital lens both ways. If the technology is so useful and those wielding it have that much confidence in the benign nature of enhanced scrutiny, let these same leaders accede to reciprocal scrutiny. This concept evolves from a precept for rule of law - consent of the governed. We have long since passed the point where the lax concept of secrecy shrouding pre-digital decision making can continue. If anything, the level of rapacious larceny engendered by the powerful algorithms that define so much in our daily lives demands a reciprocal capacity for the viewed to peer back up the food chain at who is peering so as to ask "what the fuck do you want and why don’t you just ask?" 

We are now at Frank Zappa’s “crux of the biscuit” - why revolt? Short a literary Deus ex Machina, our planet will soon be visited by carnage the likes of which are unknown to our species. This mass die-off will run from the slow withering of generations to complete genocides; reported or not. There is no demonstrated willingness by the wealthiest and most powerful to act with the fundamental concepts of human decency; rather today’s leadership is content to ransack the commons and assign themselves 1st class seats for the spectacle, up to and including apocalyptic flavored entertainment for the masses - bedtime stories to calm panic that chickens in our food cycle may experience as their beaks are amputated and they are boiled alive in one of our food factories coming soon to reality television. If we are destined for extinction, and if there is a margin of habitable world left occupied by cogent determined people applying themselves to a worthy future, there I will go to work for the greater good rather than pay an iota to Empire Coliseum Inc. to watch my brothers and sisters, fowl or otherwise slaughtering each other at Mammon’s command.

(veracity note: Errol Flynn - Robin Hood suspected as Nazi sympathizer)

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Tuesday, June 3, 2014

how to wish well one not known - the sonnet


Fiction is that she cares if i'm cruel , 
which i am not , anymore than she cares - 
enough though i'd rather be thought a fool
than harm mine whose hunger's so full it tears.

So like an ancient scribe's fantasy
of flesh and blood cloaked in goddess form
or fearful practice rehearsed by proxy
i thrash demons in ways outside the norm .

If there be lives affected , be it well
for generosity freely given
might ring human hearts hocked to that long bell
with more than madness at being driven.

I cannot stop time's effect on beauty
but muse kindness for hearts of such duty .

Monday, April 28, 2014

doubt - the sonnet


Doubt is by definition - illusion.
One lives, or dies and nothing will stop that.
Religion and faith add more confusion
by giving credence to a kind of hat.

Faith in day during night welcomes the dawn
much as love blunts loss while it wears down grief.
Again life sniffs its muzzle like a fawn .  . 
CLAP ! goes thunder - fear being the fucking thief.

What is, will always be that which one does,
be that sucking for air from a wave-ride
or clawing for same after a war-plane's buzz; 
There's always choice - with, or against the tide.

This choice is not always easy to see,
and doubt that not, for it's reality.

042814 jts
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Saturday, April 12, 2014

Ma as Metaphor

If you are born, even hatched as Hank Williams has sung about - you have a mother. It is from she you have arrived on this planet to share - you with her ; she with you and us with each other. That is a pretty huge concept - from nothing, to as the Hebrews believe an entire universe in a single soul. Nor is it possible to reverse course - we move in the same direction as time from start to finish; does time have a mother from which it springs? Our capacity to modify these events now surpasses our understanding of either origin or destination, for we are approaching a point where mother as host is no longer a condition of birth. Is time and its origins as easily dislodged from its roots as we have been by our artificial cultural model? When I was young, the capitalist empire was in the process of stretching its wings and its capacity for manipulation of the young through TV. I can vividly recall seeing exactly how my life would be magically completed if I could persuade my cheapskate parents to run out and buy the item I saw repeatedly in the commercials. Both parents were children of the “Great Depression,” so inspiring them to participate in my consumer salvation was often futile. It was about this same time when the roles for parent and family were subjected to foreign and often contradictory influences. Not foreign as in the xenophobic snarl of war propagandists, but closer to the siren song of mythology - incessant without rising to the threshold of awareness. 
Cultural ethics at that time were in part propagated through folk homilies like, a stitch in time saves nine; keeping up with the Jones’s, or not throwing stones if you live in glass houses. Television was still in service of the greater good - my elementary school actually brought the 2 TVs and the student body into the auditorium to watch the first man in space, or second; I forget which. But when the world and its cruelty came for me, it was ma I went crying to, like she had gone to her mother when it happened to her and her mother and father had gone to their mothers, etc. We as a species have handed down cultural norms from generation to generation - those kindnesses that have inspired new epochs in human civilization may have been informed by church, or books, or tradition, but the actual implementation has been largely from parent to child; this is no longer the case. The filter of ma has been replaced by an image on screen. Where my school would never have conceived of asking permission to show students the first space shot; schools are now under assault by moneyed interests who lay claim to the prerogative of what is acceptable and what is not - a moral determination. I was lucky, my family ( read ma’s opinion ) was of the high minded sort, and as with most luck, it cuts both ways.
Suffice it to say ma’s wide ranging interests include specific and rapidly evolving ideas concerning the greatest variety of nuances about most things which when one is very young can be quite useful around hot stoves, not as much after one has broken bones. More luck - an apple could still be pie when I was young, and ma made the finest apple pies I’ve ever tasted - ever. Today, not only has the apple been entirely subsumed by a logo, but that luxurious recollection of hot apple pie has been conflated with an eternal screen stream of empty demands insinuating themselves as personal objectives - definitions of happiness. As with all found luck, there are two sides, and this wannabe fountain of life conforms to other binary fundamentals - on/off; +5v/-5v; yes/no etc. The actual analog of our existence is more like moss to a mountain; it cares not a whit whether we adhere or not; whereas the media fountain of life being fashioned shackle-like to us by bean counters using electronic tethers is entirely predicated on our participation - chew on that for a minute - there is literally nothing to the internet without human contribution .  .  . ( a contribution you pay “them” to create . ) The modern vernacular while quite crude in the sense of lacking nuance or fineness can be useful; for example; WTF would perfectly fit the idea of being digitally - fleeced, or for the retentive - probed, WTF of course being the acronym of “what the fuck.” ?
While social engineering depicts today’s current peril, in carnivalesque computer generated flourishes there are even larger forces afoot than the imaginary underpinnings of today’s great worth. For example, the Bush family has closed escrow on the largest freshwater aquifer in the world - located at the Brazilian/Argentine border. They did not do this because of nobility, but because from their perspective they can see trajectories of demand for fresh water which allows great “profit taking” with enough capital - demands exacerbated by worldwide fracking technology. My only real objection to this transaction is that it lacks any contribution to humanity - this absence of morality is no longer a luxury the world can support. The fake mothering of the media has you believing you’re just thirsty for something in a bottle magically close - in less than 10 years the Bushes of the world have entirely convinced a planetary population that bottled water is more normal than a faucet, or a stream even. So why would you believe they couldn't fake a mother using an electronic tit - the bosom of belonging an app on your phone? Why else do you suppose the fascist dog whistle of the right is shredding woman; do you honestly think a yutz with teabags taped to his Budweiser cap came up with “barefoot and pregnant” all by himself. These corrosive policies are the result of a few hundred very small frightened people without work or purpose, but who believe like the United States Supreme Court that money talks and lots of money talks a lot . Where i come from : talk is cheap .
My mother carried me to term - 9 months and depending on the era or the attributed angst, I was as big as Godzilla or a month and a half in the delivery room. What is fact, I was Frank Breech folded at the waist, ass-first; no one can ever know of that experience, save ma and myself - each from vastly different perspectives. I try to understand her pain - to know what torments her heart and seemingly forces her to do what she does, or to know what prevents her from joy and celebration of what she has done if what I suspect is true. I feel none of this compassion or care for any part of the charade being trotted out as “civilization” by the incessant nag from our adoptive nurturer - the wannabe tit. Nor do I reject this fake nipple exclusively because of the goat’s milk they doused me with as an infant, it is from the confusion and conflict that was inherent to my family, to all families which have made substance all that I can choke down. Fake anything - pales compared to a mother’s pain, anyone’s pain. Suffering cannot be coded - there is no green screen large enough that will ever explain the misery being unleashed on today’s world - The “Cancer Trains” from the GMO-poisoned fields of Punjab; the fire-storms of the droughted-radioactive Pacific West, or the stifled cry of the human heart from anyone without enough of what they need and too much fear of what they don’t need. My ma cannot save me, nor I her, but I am obliged to do everything possible to create meaning from the joy, as well as the misery that ma has given me breath to know. If these words were found amongst the last written by human, would they explain anything about our species’ final throes ?
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