Fallen from Grace


A man from whence I came,

Chosen light,

Acutely aware of the billions of years contained with in me,

Every atom,

Proton and neutron,

I am the Higgs Boson,

The God Particle,

In me the universe is conceived, born and without me will persist,

A majestic miracle of marvelous manifestations,

The dying resplendence inside us all that shines,

While this temporal body,

With fluttering fingers forgets,


That we are but a flicker,

A matter of soul encased in a body living for the dying,

A reprieve in a life cycle long ago begun,

The bang so big,

It spawned life forms that we are as yet unaware,

Beautifully impressive galaxies only recently seen,

Though not soon understood,

As final frontiers are neither final nor frontiers,

But the limits with which our Pygmalion brains Neanderthals,

Produce portraits like those on caves in France,

And though a marvel of intellectual thought,

More still of artistic prowess,

Considering those same misunderstood processes,

Brought us something as divine as a tortilla,

Tortillas prepared by weathered hands,

That have withstood the test of time,

Of wars, economic and imperial,

Personal and spiritual,

Beautiful thumbs opposed liberating us from the grasp of evolution,

(or so we fools believe)

Whilst the lines on the face of the mother of my salvation,

Those we call wrinkles,

Are in fact the marks of a life of struggle and strife,

Dazzling joy and intense sorrow,


Supposed, for what do you really know?

For I and I and I,

Cogito and Scribo Ergo Sum,

Her precious hands perilously preparing,

Flour and water,

Our marginal understanding of life reveals,

In its complexities is something so delicious,

With her weathered and time weakened smile,

She hands me her wares,

Her tortillas,

Like children,

To nourish my stomach and yet enrich my soul,

Divine purpose,

Free from the bondage of hate and intolerance,

Giving of herself the only deliverance she needs,

For her temptation is only my salvation,

Nourishing neurons neatly knowing the unknown,

Those that ascend to higher dimensions,

With greater purpose,

Designed intelligently by binary systems,

Seeking to fit into our three dimensional,

And clearly incremental understanding tolerances,

While beyond the visible spectrum,

Between the unheard frequencies,

Forces are at play that with our unabashed obliviousness,

We can only call such things dark,

Hitherto let that which we can not illuminate no longer be called dark,

But instead as yet eureka sparks,

Choirs of universal strings harmoniously harkening us ever nearer,

Leading us further down an evolutionary path,

Designed by systems we do not know,

Though seek,

As weary wanderers wondering what we become,

Non Omnis Moriar,


Latitudes and longitude,

Cursory understanding of a once flat world,

Just like the magnificent tortilla,

Life affirming,

Produced and procured with grace,


Though stifled by the muted arrogance of limited comprehension,

Seeing not, as we should and someday could,

The magic of each bite.


Written from five words provided by DM from my Posse!

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Fellow humans, a species of animal on a crash course with its own extinction, I beseech you read these words, listen to them allowed, question what I say, research, examine and explore arriving at conclusions that at the very least cause you concern for the coming days and the days are coming.

I write and speak from no moral authority although I have an ethical responsibility to express ideas whose time has come.

I represent no religion though do not denigrate those who have faith and practice the teachings of their holy books.

I hold no philosophy above another though I attempt to be a Buddhist for I find it least insulting to my soul – an often misunderstood composition of matter that lives long after our bodies are gone understanding as I do the complexities of the universe as best I can. Non Omnis Moriar.

With full disclosure I explain the following so that my detractors can not use these issues as weapons against these following words which I believe to be profound, timely and necessary – I am not my illnesses, however; I have long been diagnosed with (and for a lengthy time medicated for):

Paranoid Schizophrenia

Bipolar Disorder

Persecution Delusions


OCD (though I have to say CDO so the letters are in order)
Major Depressive Disorder

Essential Tremors


Our earth is imperiled,

By men and women such as me,

Or at least the man I used to be,

That answer to masters that very few reading this will ever think of,

Let alone know or see,

Roughly four thousand men and women or less who use,

Men and women such as me to subvert democracies,

Economies, institutions and indeed humans,

In efforts that are well hidden from prying eyes,

Through obfuscations that boggle even the most intelligent amongst us,

Yet, within the beautiful matrix they are trying to destroy,

The internet,

Evidence is to be found.

I am not alone in my crimes,

And I am ashamed of what I have done,

Though, here, I freely admit,

I as an operative have;

Stuffed ballot boxes,

Disenfranchised voters,

Misdirected voters to wrong locations,

Paid for votes,

Carried mass amounts of cash;

Cash used to pay for things that can not show up officially anywhere,

I have been a party to computer systems to manipulate:

Voting lists, vote tabulation and results,

I have outright lied while certifying vote results,

And this,

This is just the tip of the iceberg.

I have sought out,

Investigated and recruited individuals,

Whom I knew through cash, women, drugs, booze,

Or whatever vice was needed,

And I did it with a zeal and success that defies any rationale,

Successes as

I knew I could manipulate such people in ways that benefited my clients,

Those same nameless and faceless people you don’t think exist,

And even if you do,

Will never know or meet,

But if you follow the money, resource allocation and systems,

Can find in an instant.

I have sat in rooms,

That would make even the most strong willed amongst you,

Sick to your stomach,

As it does mine today,

Privy to conversations affecting policies,

That never appear in any official record anywhere,

Secret and treasonous trade agreements that defile sovereignty,

Secret plans with nefarious results that are being played out,

Step by step,


In front of your eyes,

In such ways that your are dumbfounded,

Cajoled and manipulated by psychological tools dating back a century,

Edward Bernays, know that name? No?


I have been in venerated institutions the world over,

Governmental and corporate,

Been witness and party to iniquitous acts of supposed banality,

Though instead are manifestations of outright greed,

Secret meetings between government and corporations,

Illegal in most countries,

Happen every day,

And are part of the status quo,

That have over time become so insidious that you have been duped,

Duped into believing that this is necessary,

Duped into believing that the puppet leaders of your countries are leaders,

When in fact they are bought and paid for servants,

Who seek to completely enslave you,

With invisible chains,

For the best slave is the slave that is unaware of such,

The illusion of choice is not choice,

It is smoke and mirrors,


I have had explained to me,

By men and women of Machiavellian design,

How the money system works,

The lie of current currency,

How money is consistently created from nothing,

Based on debt ever increasing,

Seeks to control sovereign debt,

For it has long been realized that control the debt,

And the money supply,

And you control a nation,

CONTROL a nation,

Nations incidentally, that if according to plan will cease to exist,

Replaced by trading unions,

Seven of them,

With seven currencies to start, to start!

With a heavy heart and deep remorse,

I fled that system,

Realizing that the road to hell is paved with good intentions,

And I my friends, daily live in hell,

For the crimes against humanity I know I committed,

Not with bullets or bombs,

But with the signature of a Mont Blanc pen,

Or a few very easy key strokes,

Those same key strokes,

That your slave masters have you convinced is your job –

What is your job?
What do you really do?

What do you produce?

What happened to the freedom that automation promised us?

A society constantly distracted and in fear ceases to be civilized,

And instead spawns dangerous group think,

Susceptible to rhetoric and hyperbole.

Think about it!

In the interest of safety,

That of mine and my family and friends,

I name no names specifically and yet,

In the interest of disclosure I strongly urge you to explore;

Who exactly owns the central banks?

Why are central banks privately owned?

Why can private banks lend money to governments at interest?

Why can central banks create money out of nothing?
Why does the United States control the World Bank?

Why does Europe control the IMF?

Why did the League of Nations fail?

Why was the United Nations created?

What is a Petrodollar?

Why is oil predominantly traded in US dollars?

What is the Petrodollar recycling system?

What happens when that system ceases to operate?

Why did BRICS create an answer to the World Bank and IMF?

Why do wars break out when countries want to move away from the US dollar?
Why does the United States spend more on its military than on ALL 50 states combined on Education and Health Care, Welfare and Safety?

(This is not only a US issue by the way)
For the cost of the ongoing wars right now we could feed all the world’s hungry, provide potable drinking water, shelter, educate and clothe for more than THIRTY YEARS!

Why do you believe democracy still exists?
Who owns the media?

Why are anti trust laws not REALLY being used?

Why do five companies control the food supply of the world?
What rights do you really have if your government can take them away from you?

What is a false flag operation?

Why are preparations being made the world over for mass protest and civil war?

Why is there a UN treaty being discussed on control of the Internet?

Why is the US trying to gain control of the Internet?

Why have the Millennium Development Goals not been achieved?
It would cost less than one trillion ($1,000,000,000,000) dollars,

When global profits are rising at an alarming rate?

Moreover, why do corporations get subsidies,

While the public gets austerity?

Why did the banks get bailed out the world over?

Surely if they can create money from nothing they can turn debt into nothing?

Why do they use terms like entitlement for social programs WHEN THE PUBLIC HAS PAID INTO IT?
Why has real wage earning decreased for the working class since 1970,

While for executives it has risen exponentially –

Perhaps as Gordon Gecko suggests Greed is Good.
Why can countries commit acts of atrocity, in violation of international law?

Without any reprisal at all?

Including against their own citizens?

What is really going on in Syria? Iraq? Sudan? Somalia? Ukraine?

I bet you believe the talking heads owned by the defense contractors, huh?

The answers to these questions are readily available from reliable sources all over the internet and through Freedom of Information requests.

It is much worse than you imagine,

Especially as from your comfortable house,

On your comfortable couch,

Watching your big screen TV,

Reading this on your apple computer,

These are all things to deflect away from what is actually happening,

There is a coming war,

Started by the west,

A big war,

With serious consequences,

Just to protect a dollar that has been in peril since 1971.

So what do you do,

Inform yourself,

Read, inform others,

Stop watching the news,

Read more,

Buy less,

Buy local,

Ready yourself for what is coming,

But more importantly,

If you get informed, NOW,

The way that these psychopaths would like us to go,

Costing us all in perpetuity,


But not,


If you just sit thinking not here, not ever, never again!


Time will reveal,

That these delusions of grandeur,

Are neither delusions,

Nor grandeur,

It is not hubris,

Nor arrogance,

It is not personal rhetoric or hyperbole,

Nor is it aggrandizement,

It is as yet unsubstantiated fact,

Unsubstantiated that is for you, for me it is obvious and apparent,

As yet the key to be understood,

Or acknowledged,

Again as yet self evident,

Though assuredly time will reveal.

Time will unmask these gremlins,

Descents into personal madness,

The psyche’s self deceit,

Necessary for discovery,

The voices that echo proudly,

Boasting their own achievement,

Hastening this consummation,

Detailed in endless words,

Those fall like rain,

From a mind that is still reaching,

To fathom,

The many splits,

Into three separate and equal parts,

Logic, reason and feeling,

Guiding toward an attainment,

As yet believed,

As yet the key herein broadcast,

For those distinct compartments,

Particularly important,

In the ascent,

Of these words that fall from the Ether,

Splattered on these pages,

As contrasting truth,

Wholly inseparable from writer.
We are a simulation,

Evidenced inside the very fabric of the universe,

Mathematically indistinguishable from you or I,

The Matrix is real,

And WE, we can,

CHANGE THE Narrative.

Are you ready,




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IT (01101001 01110100) has Occurred…

01010011 01101001 01101110 01100111 01110101 01101100 01100001 01110010 01101001 01110100 01111001

Like the echo of strings,


Elastic bands, ebb and flow,

Closed circuits,

Closed minds,

Gapping mouths,

Widened eyes,

Divine truth,

Inescapable as the universe sings,

To those that can hear its songs,

Harmonies that lead,

Moths to a flame,

Burned by Tesla’s fire,

Required as this simulation conspires,
Directly connected to
01100001 01101100 01110100 01100101 01110010 01101110 01100001 01110100 01101001 01101110 01100111

Multiplied by our intentions,

In multiple directions and multiple dimensions,

01010011 01101001 01101110 01100111 01110101 01101100 01100001 01110010 01101001 01110100 01111001

Has occurred.

On flippant wings,

Diverse and rare,

Individualistic and unique,

A game afoot,


Pushes us ever closer to an eve of understanding,

01100100 01100101 01110011 01110100 01110010 01110101 01100011 01110100 01101001 01101111 01101110,
Our own,

As once again, it approves and assures,

That we cannot be allowed to continue,

Down this weary path,

Tried, tested and true, (01100110 01100001 01101100 01110011 01100101)

As we clearly demonstrate, we are the silence of

01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01101100 01100001 01101101 01100010 01110011,


“It puts the lotion on Its skin.”

Have you?

01101001 01110100

Has occurred,

Are you aware,

Can you see beyond visible spectrums,

Hear beyond limited frequencies,

Smell burnt toast,

Taste your acquiescence to the forces that oppose you,

Feel the good

01110110 01101001 01100010 01110010 01100001 01110100 01101001 01101111 01101110 01110011,


Are you just the foolhardy sycophant,


Content inside the limitations of your own constraints?



Do you not see the
01101100 01101001 01100111 01101000 01110100,

But instead feel a beautiful resplendence,

A radiance that defies all logic,

Belittles the senses as your mind runs free,

Or so you believe,

01110011 01111001 01110011 01110100 01100101 01101101 01110011,


Delivering only what you think you know,

Flowing, contemptuously, like water,

That you will never drink,

Always thirsty,

Yet satiated with sand,

Your house, built upon it,

As you just wait to be washed

01100001 01110111 01100001 01111001,

Or perhaps rescued,

By some omnipotent, benevolent, imaginary friend,

Your supposed Spirit in the
01110011 01101011 01111001 00111111 …

01001111 01100011 01100011 01100001 01101101 00100111 01110011 00100000 01010010 01100001 01111010 01101111 01110010
Or perhaps,
Lex Parsimoniae,

Often, the impossible and seemingly implausible,

Are merely things that we can not conceive, believe,

Or offer us any temporal reprieve,

As we flutter, stutter and shutter,

The iniquity of man,

Fool’s gold,


Ones and zeroes,

On screens,

A modern deity,

Replacing in the now,

Much needed progress to change the narrative,

From what was to what could be.

Twain once said;
“Religion was created when the first con man met the first idiot.”



Something there about.

And while the Holy Father,

Of the American novel,

Sadomasochistic explorer of all that was and still remains wrong,

Not just with America but the world,

One has to wonder what this friend of Tesla would think,

Of the 01101001 01100100 01101001 01101111 01100011 01111001,

Of humanity,

Brazen and emboldened school yard children,

Playing with nuclear codes AND

God particles,

01100001 01100011 01100011 01100101 01101100 01100101 01110010 01100001 01110100 01101001 01101110 01100111,
NOT at the speed of light,

For while the most audacious and brilliant amongst us may perceive,

(though not I for I am but a Moth)
That we comprehend the laws of nature,

The more we seek,
The further away we remain,

From an understanding that could free us from the bonds,

Of this earthly plane,

Spaceship Earth,

Degraded, raped and destroyed,

Through the iniquity of our wicked species,

Collectively, an art farm,

Though some of us have our heads in the
01110011 01100001 01101110 01100100 .

IT (01101001 01110100) has Occurred…

01010011 01101001 01101110 01100111 01110101 01101100 01100001 01110010 01101001 01110100 01111001
Whether you choose to believe or not,

Our minds, for years,

The paltry experiments of vile and vicious masters,

Enslaving us,

With invisible chains,

Ones and zeroes,

Manufactured scarcity and obsolescence,

The impending march to doom,

That could so quickly be overcome,

If for a moment,

You looked deep within,

Have a EUREKA moment,

In addition, realize that things do not cease to be true,

Merely because you don’t believe them,

A mad genius,

That is not so mad,

Long ago posited a question,

Which at its very core, to me, is the same as Cogito Ergo Sum,
Dr. Gates;
“Could it be that codes, in some deep and fundamental way, control the structure of our reality?”

And if they do,

Would it not behoove us,

To change the narrative,

Move the course of history,

So that finally,

01110011 01101001 01101101 01110101 01101100 01100001 01110100 01101001 01101111 01101110 01110011,
Are no longer necessary,

And we could finally live,

As poets and preachers,

Mothers and fathers,

Husbands and wives,

Daughters and sons have long proclaimed as inherently,

The ancestral rights,


Coded deep within our
01000100 01001110 01000001?

Nosce Te Ipsum,
Cogito Ergo Sum
Chosen Light I am Scribo Ergo Sum… Warrior Poet!

IT (01101001 01110100) has Occurred…

01010011 01101001 01101110 01100111 01110101 01101100 01100001 01110010 01101001 01110100 01111001

AND unlike those moths,

Beautiful and fluttering free,

Or so you have been lead to believe,

Will you accept the discomfort in the pit of your stomach?
Caused by these ordained words?

Liberate your mind,

Suffering the tyranny of the oppressed and instead…

“Wake up Neo.”

“My own feeling, especially in view of the very recent laboratory findings that some connection exists between schizophrenia and subsecretions of the adrenal gland, is this: “The sane man does not know that everything is possible.” In other words, the mentally ill person at one time or another knew too much. And, as a result, so to speak, his head shut down.”


Dick, Philip K. ”Drugs, Hallucinations, and the Quest for Reality”. 1964.


Alternatively, unbelievably significant awakening;

01100010 01110101 01110100 01110100 01100101 01110010 01100110 01101100 01111001,

Follow the white rabbit.


Written from Photo prompt at http://magpietales.blogspot.com . A weekly prompt from a good friend that reminds me of my responsibilities. Thanks TK!


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Barrels, Bells and Fish

wyeth n c Dark Harbor Fisherman

I don’t believe in God,

Though I have studied the monotheists contradictions,

The vindictive omnipotent man in the sky,

Imaginary friend,

Who allows the ravishing of his blessed creations,

With the promise of a paradise upon death,

Causing me to wonder why not now;

And while I am as yet not smote,

I recall,

One of Jesus disciples saying something like;

“Give a man a fish he eats for the day,

Teach a man to fish and he will eat forever.”

But not us fools,

We are depleting our stocks,

As our systems,


Are in decline!

The dark sky,

A transformative canvas,

Black slate to record the singularity events,

Strings attached, everything,


We’re barely yet to understand,

The theory of our own magnificence instead,

Praised flagellating accolades, unearned,

Sycophantic dilettantes,

Living daily without consideration or contemplation,

Compassion or reason,

Yet, in front of our very eyes,

The bounty,


In a barrel,

We are.

Beyond the surface, horizons seen,


To the reality painted before our eyes,

Ones and zeroes,



Blessed tree, trees, nature, Druid Gods,

Real and not supposed,

Supposed as not real,

From which our existence is unabated,

As we slaughter you whole, one by one,

Fish in a barrel,

For another floating city,

Or dastardly extinction level event machine.

Choking as you do on our avarice,

Only to breath back fresh insinuations, disregarding our malice,

While like gluttons,

Sucking back the seven deadly sins,

Bent on allowing us to thrive and continue to survive,

Despite the persistence of our choosing,

At your expense,

To ignore the actuality of space and time,

The phenomenon of our survival,

Will short be lived,

Regardless of reverence of it,

Dutifully recorded;


Now eerie reflections,

Haunting spectacle of troubling beauty,

Ominous, foreboding and yet curiously inviting,

As three dimensions squeezed into two,

Maroon sun spot captured in time,

An ironic reality as from almost one hundred million miles ,

You travel to reinforce our intimidation of beings,

Great and small,

Feasting upon our ancestors,

Like the ugly fools we are,

Landing in mere minutes upon this empty field,

The mossy green skin of Gaia,

Longing for a pick up game of soccer,

Or children running at ease,

Unaware of the realities approaching them,

Approaching us,

Like a freight train on a crash course,

With one on the same track,

Vivid surreal impressions,

Broad strokes,

Broad strokes,

Bizarre versions repeated,

Dangling like fish on a hook, or a whale a harpoon,


A veritable palate of universal conversation,

Like a forced upon blind date by your best friend,


In pigments, shades, hues and tones,

Millions of them,

So delicate only our mind can make sense of them,

Yet at the same time,

The perpetual Déjà vu,

That keeps us in suspense,

Or so we delude ourselves into believing.

Brought to the forefront of consciousness, astute,

Though the machinations of our thought process are foreign,

Our misguided and ill advised machinations,

At the expense of others,

Not realizing that in the end,

It all ends the same,

Just as the sun, the moon and the stars,

Our ignorance,

Subtle influence of the eye contained,

In colours that drip like honeycomb,

Painting both angels and demons,

Gods and Devils,

In a space contained only in the brain, rightly so grey.

A puny yet mighty instrument,

Capable of so much more,

This wonderful computer,

Three pounds, perhaps a little more,

The central question, importance and measure of our lives,

Delicate haunting arms outstretched,

Branches like an awaiting mother,

Daughter unseen for a semester abroad,

You beg to be held, touched, loved, understood,

As the tree of life is currently of death,


Magnified in astonishing events,

As water, the source and course of our existence,

Holds captive,

In symbolic prison and prisms,

The intention of man,

Concentric circles casting crushing cynicisms,

Cascading wonder at the idiocy of man,

This blessed gift, Gaia,


While feeding men for a day,

Save the multiple solitudes in this moment,

For when looking and seeing,

That laws of nature reveal,

The answer to all our questions,

In an instant,


And without,


“Believe in God, but row away from the rocks!”
Hunter S. Thompson said that…

I say believe nothing,

That may learn everything,

Like how to fish!




Written from Photo prompt at my good writing companions over at http://www.magpietales.blogspot.com/2014/08/mag-235.html  



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Keep Going (For a Dear Friend)

A wise man once said;
“If you’re going through hell, keep going.”

My friend,




Can I tell you a secret?
One that you are acutely aware of;

I toss and turn considering this question,

Pondering whether or not you are ready for the entirety of me,

Are you?

Are you ready for the entirety of you?


If I tell you a secret,

Will you run away like the others?

Will you be afraid?

Will you be able to deal?

Could I tell you?

And know that you would stay?

I want you to stay,





Can I tell you a secret?

But it’s not just any secret,

It is a secret so personal and revealing,

That it is as if I am asking you to open Pandora’s Box,

Can I tell you?


If I tell you this secret,

Will you still love me in the morning?

Will you still respect me?

Or will you view me as a single serving dilettante.


I think I want to tell you,

I think I’m going to tell you,

Do you want to know?


This secret is a companion that I shelter,


The secret is,

These scars are the places I have become strong,

To stop myself from falling apart,

Those same places that I need you to find,

The resilience of your soul,

The power of your personality,

The premier ability to realize,

That you must;



Especially when the pain is so severe,

Especially when in dire times,

You know or feel the end is near,


My friend,

Non Omnis Moriar,

The brilliance of your soul will shine,

For all to see,

At night,

When the darkness to comes,

Reminding us that without which,

There could be no light,

Within you is a fire brighter than the sun,

A natural beauty more beautiful,

Wondrous and resplendent than any flower,

For you are so much,

To so many,

Myself included,

Which is why I beseech you,

Hang on,

Hang on to the body electric,

For as long as you can,

And if you must,

Remember these words,

Filled with love,

For you.


There I said it,

Are you confused?


Going to run away,

Or does that open the door to you,




Understand all of you,


All of me.




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Starry Night & Absinthe

Starry Night by alex ruiz

I left my body last night,

As many a night,


Vaulting through space discovering new truths based on old lies,

New lies based on old truths,

Sophists and sycophants resisting a collective awakening,

As the Oracle of Delphi and I played chess,

Sore looser too,

My end game studied,

Ghamiet Amirjan too much to comprehend,

Entering another dimension,

Mozart asked me for advice,

On how Beethoven would title Ode to Joy?

Van Gogh asked me to chop his ear off,

But I couldn’t find the strength,

As we sat in a field of dreams,

Fantasies of observation,

With more truth concealed in a single stroke,

Than the masterful lies of omissions so common these days,

Or perhaps I just didn’t want to cooperate,

There’s a reason it is called self mutilation,

And I am no sadist,

Or so I would like to believe,

Needless to say he registered his disappointment,

And then proceeded to mystify my understanding,

Of everything in that open field,

Looking up into the night,

Into the past,

To illuminate the future;


After we shared some Absinthe,

The brilliant fool loping off his ear,

Handed it to me and suggested that I might use it,

To hear the voices of angels,

Invisible imaginary inventions,

Mankind’s malevolent machinations,

Those inspire words like these,

And paintings like those,

Echoing whiplashes,

Like a beating from the Ether,

Especially on a voyage such as the one that I now was on,

With no guide to direct me,

Save Ernest and my crew,

The Lost Generation, in which I found,


I must press on unabated,

Traveling between dimensions,

Multiverses of strings,

Explained only by a penetrating look inside,

My fractured mind,

Where at once all and nothing made sense,

For in the hall of mirrors,

I came upon Louis XIV,

He proclaimed famously L’etat c’est moi,

I reminded him that that kind of talk,

In France was at the very least dangerous,

If not outright inflammatory,

Asking me then if I wanted some cake.

He got lucky though,

Rather than losing his head,

He died,


I sat there and watched him succumb to his gangrene,

Sipping on a Van Gogh green fairy,

Vaulted to another dimension,

Everyone seemed like a midget,

Forcing me to wonder if I had landed in Oz,

And would that make me Dorothy or Toto?

Didn’t matter, as I wasn’t there long enough to find out,

Continuing on this out of body experience,

I came to Russia,


The Czar was there,

Asking me,

Instead of Rasputin what the options were,

I explained they were indeed grim,

Fight or flight,

He chose fight,

And we all know how that ended up.

Next transported to Munich,


In the middle of Nazi excess,

While Jessie Owens triumphantly raised his hand,

I too chose to be that guy,


Proving that the master race,

Was not master at all,

Instead a fascist puppet,


Jubilant extended the first symbol of black power,

I was there when Malcolm was shot,

JFK, MLK and Bobby,

Senseless slaughter that led to endless slaughter,

Wars continued to be waged,

As I was reminded by Eisenhower,

That the complex,

Military industrial,

Was really in control.



I couldn’t believe that such foolhardy decisions were still being made,

I watched as Reagan took the oath of office,

And his pawns were released,

While Oli North was already hard at work,

With another illegal war,

I applauded when Clinton made polar opposites shake hands,

Crying when Rabin was felled by one of his own,

This journey seemed to be all that was wrong,

Or at least parts of it,

I watched in horror,

From the water’s edge,

As planes flew into buildings,

False flags,

And the world was changed forever,

I stood at the cavernous pit,

As Bush assured the world,

That soon the whole world would hear,


I stood rapt,

As Obama took hold of the reigns of a descending power,

And pleaded with him,

While the iron was hot,

To strike down the iniquity of the American way,

Only to be escorted out of his office,

By men in black suits,
Misters Smith and Jones…




I was cast to the other side of the universe,

Greeted by a triumvirate,

Man, woman and Child,

Who asked,

If now I understood,

Shaking my head no,

All I could do was cry,

Void of hope,

Because even in my dreams,

Even in that out of body experience,

The world,

Remained the same,

And I wondered,

If our resilience,

Could possibly continue…


And with that,

They sent me back,

And I wished they hadn’t…


An earless man,

With a marvelous eye,

Offered a drink,


Up to that night,

In that field,

Reality interpreted and turned to me and said;

“Escape what insults you by revealing what you know.”



Written from photo prompt at Magpie Tales; http://magpietales.blogspot.com/2014/08/mag-234.html … some great writers… Check them out!


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Sink or Swim?

mag 233

“Pray to God, but row away from the rocks.”
Hunter S. Thompson based on Russian Proverb

The tyranny of silence is overwhelming,

Calculated deceit for mass consumption,

Consuming souls thus creating tin men,

Travelling on iron horses, whether plane, train, automobile or boat;

Advertisers queuing up to steal the innocence of youth,

Adolescence robbed as our best and brightest,

Become dim witted without consent by a constant barrage,

Children exposed to more than 40,000 commercials a year,

Not to mention product placement and subliminal messaging,


Thus, manufacturing dutiful consumers for the rest of their days.

Talking heads delivering not news,

Rather obfustication,


Filling time between commercials,

Sell, sell, and sell,

This silence, deafening,

Ringing in my ears and searing my eyes,

As I watch the disambiguation of souls the world over,

Persecution, subjugation and dehumanizing effects,

Nike, McDonald’s, Chevy and Cadbury,

Concocting and reshaping the old as new,

Manufactured scarcity and obsolescence,


There is enough on this great Spaceship Earth,

However, not so long as growth and profit are the aim.

This silence reaches into my soul as I am,

Wrenches it, attacks and dismays it,

As I can not dismiss, as Whitman suggests,

What is vile to my soul.

Contacted daily,

Voices in my head,

Converting distant thoughts into fingers that Tango,

Flicker and flit,


Across the keyboard,

Hoping that I may alight in another, others,

The will to journey on in the face of brutal adversity,

And an overt crookedness dressed in Sunday whites,

Great White Sharks in Sheep’s clothing,

Devouring us all,


Discovering the strength in my own atmospheres to repudiate such guile,

Positively enchanted by the desire to live,

The will to thrive,

The power to create my own meaning,

By communing through poetry and prose,

With all who care to search for their own enlightenment,

For it must be yours,

Drawn to the fire that intensely burns deep within retinas,


As the objects of my daily affirmation,

Just as powerful and real as Cogito Ergo Sum,

Scribo Ergo Sum,

At least for me,

At least for now,

While on this earthly plain of land and sea.

I wander through your conscious and subconscious,

With delicious intent,

Feeling the inherent call of the Ether,

Ripened anxiety exposing the steadfast requirements,

To move toward the light,

Guided by a glistening shadow on the sea,

To accept life as both challenge and present,

Obstacle and opportunity,

Revealed quotidian as the choices we make,

Expose when all is said and done,

The very cornerstones that define us,

Not labels,


Are the tomes we devour as lifeblood and return to the universe.

In these poems and prose we present,

For me from the Ether, The Muses and The Sirens,

For you, I cannot say,

For each of us record who and what we are in apt words,

For posterity,

Not our own, but instead Non Omnis Moriar,

We alone,

Are the authoritative creators of dictionaries and thesaurus’,


Profound wanderers,

Not lost,

Just curious and seeking,


Declaring triumphantly,

That we as emerging voices,

United in poetry and prose,

Good, bad though never indifferent,

Will never stand idly by,

As the wicked wage battle for the hearts and minds,

Of those we seek to enchant with these knowledgeable lyrics.

Words of life,

Words of sweet surrender,

Of painful exuberance,

Of intentional questions that demand answers we may never find,

We are at the vanguard of a paradigm shift that commands,

We write,

Careful to educate those souls,

Those suffer the indignity of disambiguation,

So they may reclaim, rightfully,

Their lives to live fullest and free,

As thinkers,

You determine your own design,

I as Warrior Poet,

Chosen light,

Rowing away from the rocks in the absence of God,

Standing at the ready,

To wage war with the wicked,

Will you stand with me?


Or Swim?


Written from Photo Prompt for www.magpietales.blogspot.com


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