August 2009

Remember the children? In Somalia, Rwanda, Darfur, kitchen floors of broken homes and shelters… It is as though love is sacrificed, crucified through eternities of anger that defy structure, organization, a hierarchy of you, me, my brother, friend.

Who speaks for the fringe in monotony’s madness? Simple, it isĀ  inherent music & poetics… Qualities of the soul’s least properly functioning parts. These are loves blossoming in memory of ludicrous ideals and a people that do not participate.

Tart, but bittersweet the one creates unconscious annulment.

What sign of the zodiac is most commonly seen on the avenues of constitution and independence? Why do they not have weekly sessions in creation before mandating legislation – art, love, dance and music?

It seems a jam session of drums would diminish the drastic dimensions to a translucent level.

But opaque the exterior persists on Capitol Hill.


The man sings his song to capitalism on the corner of Pennsylvania and 21st, “Ice cold water! One dollar!” And whilst the shakers just move and shuffle beyond, he proclaims still.

Where does Jesus stand in the midst of despair in the land that is free, brave and blessed? Perhaps he serenades his love through the Vietnam veteran that looks so vulnerable. Like a male peacock lurking in the landscape, a flag of many colors billows above fire and treetops. A society jinxed from completion, withheld by its deepĀ  pride and fiscal fractures in the bone of rock and concrete.

Many eyes have seen the glory of the Lord’s coming, but it is portrayed “In God We Trust” on a dollar bill?

The flower seems a figment of imaginative desires and holds thorns, plenty. Worth admiring, but impractical as heels of height. An eagle perches, divine eyes, upon branches of stone structures men built, to watch, to listen, to protect.

Young people percolate through the pores of the lack of existence. Knives and sticks and stones build strong structures and solidify souls. Again all nearly embracing freedom both of and from fear.

I am inspired by the movements of the mind more than the body. So, fight war not wars and instantly resonate through fear to expand into the overlooks above the city that indefinitely never stops moving. Into the deep, narcoleptic hours we will not sleep but rise.

And we will make fire, and lay down our rhythm to the soil above the meridian – we will move down hills and proclaim our freedom.

With the song and dance of our blood, we will be the movement of youth. From energy into matters for the mind. Sure.

We got this.

We hold all the tools in such a manner that we think we can control or understand the plumbing of the earth.

Yet the contraptions and mechanisms are not within our grasp. Again, we turn to Emerson, we are the tools we have created.

This far over-reaching extension of humanity traps our souls. Indeed, even I forget how connected to the tools I must be. We are meant to flow freely, as rivers down mountains, as birds in the sky, as trees in the wind.

I’ve begun to realize that indeed we are not alone. All around the world, diverse peoples, populations, and cultures exist, but we are all the same in our desires.

It is like clouds and water and ice; all the same and all different. And it can be still or moving, or frozen, but it is all water. So similar humanity truly is. So simple it could be, if we took the time to truly embrace the positive. Indeed we all wake to the same sun. etc. etc.


The knots of man become interwoven in the street corridor. It seems in first glances the city surrounds the park, but in fact the parks seems bigger than the city. See, the tree roots are unmapped, uncharted, recipes from scratch that cannot be imitated. The soil, quenched, like the bombarding people of the metro. The park is organic. Not an artificial establishment of ideas, culture, history…

Of course we created a culture of trees- linguistic representations of earth (“nature”). Dendochronology, biology, ecology, forestry, botany and so on and so forth… I wonder if when we know the names of trees if we devalue them- like money is to labor, or Nancy is to me.

It simplifies, systematizes, organizes our surroundings. Instead of being a thing that lives – with a heartbeat, that writes poetry and loves the earth, humanity, has two brothers, plays piano, dancing- I simply go by “Nancy”….

It’s a shame that a sense of self is such a struggle in our society, but not surprising when humans are such vast anomalies of complexity. Of course, it seems I have ideological differences with everything, and to say I am more than a simple human word would next in this culture imply God… And sore we could explain that maybe God is human- the moment the idea is in our minds it is not necessarily a fallacy. and the correlation exists. or perhaps does not.

It is not difficult for us to argue our preconceived beliefs though undoubtedly our ideas evolve. In most cases this is due to experience, and not contemplation. Yet here I sit reflecting and reinterpreting my perspectives and ideas, trying to understand why there are so few trees and so many buildings and so many people, and such obsolete peace.

And I am still perplexed by the human fascination of towers of our creations. Our technologies are greater than our realities. But from the first civilization, and ever after seeing so many collapse, we continue to believe, or convince ourselves that MORE we need more. More houses, more buildings, more money, more THINGS.

When the things that as a species we always inherently would need are alive – mountains, birds, flowers, smiles and trees. It is my belief that the things we surround ourselves with now are but death and destruction. And the energy, so slowly, depletes.