Saturday, December 4, 2010

The Terrible Irony of Beautiful Words

Dog Poet Riffing.......

beautiful words
do not move me...

I am not entranced by this clever art
I’ve seen the heads roll in the Age of Reason
I’ve watched the bloody scroll of history
While the band played on
And ugly men made beautiful noise
To introduce the thunder of their guns

There is no greater coward
Than the one who slipped by privilege past the front
To orchestrate from the sidelines
What he could not accomplish himself;
Whose skin was too precious to risk
And wrapped in the cloak of God ranting sanctimony
This shrinking nightshade
This empty suit
with the pomp of the preening jackal
Dines on the awful cries of the dying
That he sups like an intoxicating and wondrous wine
He feeds on the torment of the injured and estranged
Wrapped in the cloak of patriotic hypocrisy

He gestures at the battlefield
From which democracy will be ripped stillborn
From the blasted body of her dead mother
The still greater crime of previous event
The falling towers were no accident
Nor did some strangers from afar
Manufacture this without consent
It should to the objective mind
Prove self evident

Across the centuries
The wind of high blown rhetoric
Have driven the millions to an evil death
And yet it never seems to dawn
How like frightened steers they trample what is before them
into the ground
And yet it never seems to dawn...

Something there is in the ignorant mind
That vibrates to the sympathetic string
Of the conscious and applied evil of the Hyena King
Something resonates
Something capitulates
Something rises
As something descends

And all that is decent and good
All that would bring forth a greater brotherhood
Must run to the cover of the invisible wings
While a murder of crows blackens the sky
And smoking ruins
Like new buildings
are transformed before your eyes
Into a wasteland of fire and death
For the profit of the few
For the comfort of some
The usual business will go on

It seems that this must be
Though we have waited with insufficient hope
Perhaps we shall see the day
That these twisted carrion feeders
These iniquitous deceivers
The butchers and the reavers
And all their demonic crew
Shall march into hell fire
Into Their native homeland created from their own need
And the door will close upon the echo
Of all their beautiful words

End riff.......

Patrick Willis narrates:

Thursday, March 11, 2010

In Memorium; Chuck Hugh Farley...

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

Hare Krishna

Greetings to the one that rules the 18 million internal
and external universes.
Greetings to the one who created everything out of itself
Who permeates and rules it and is the consciousness of and
In it
and who dwells in me

Greetings to the one who is one alone and the many as one
Who is the substance of things unseen
Who is always more than there is
no matter
How much there may be
The rising sun that never hits the zenith

Greetings to the living light behind all appearances
Who composes the appearances and is not what appears
Greetings to the qualities and virtues that make up the personality of
The ineffable in the cloud of unknowing that shrouds the blinding world and
Humbles everything before it and which
Dwells in me.

Greetings to the unassailable unmoving center
From which spirals the galaxies and worlds
Like the spiral of a closed fist
Of perfect concentration
That holds it all in place that
Moves it all that forms and un-forms and does not
Begin or end and which dwells in me.

Greetings to that which endures and prevails
And is the life in everything
That meets and greets itself knowing and unknowing
That scatters itself into uncountable pieces and
Gathers them altogether again and
That dwells in me

Greetings to the dynamic animating principle.
Greetings to the one that does not know time nor size but
Does know sequence and form

Greetings to the one whose idea is complete in the genesis and
Is the intelligence behind evolution and design and not the result of them.
Greetings to what cannot be known but whose presence can be practiced
And enjoyed and who dwells in me.

Greetings in the before and after that both spill into the endless now
Greetings to the one who commands the superiors and inferiors
Whose every effort serves the entire
Who is the one who waits before
In the midst and at the end of every thought, word and deed

Greetings to the mind inside the mind of every architect in every dream
Who waits and watches forever and who
Abides in me.

Greetings from within the sleep that struggles for awakening
That cries out for union with the beloved
That cries in this moment for awakening to the one
Who dwells in me.

many greetings and
much gratitude
Greetings and greetings and
much gratitude

Hare Krishna

Patrick Willis narrates: