Acts of
Desolation#13
Our
struggle is becoming immortalized in mainstream discussions of what history
will find salient in the late 21st Century, Common Era, along with advancing
space mining and explorations and our developing global/local system of
self-governance. We have opened eyes to a greater need for vigilance in
securing our common goals of liberty.
The
mercs are defeated. Those who survived are rounded up and put into
rehabilitation camps much different from those they had envisioned for their
prisoners. Torture and acts of cruelty against prisoners are strictly
prohibited. Heavy physical labor and psychiatric rehabilitation techniques,
including mind-altering drugs and public confessions, are now their just
reward. They are secured for the rest of their lives in maximum confinement,
without possibility of escape.
The
rebels are honored as heroes everywhere. We are given full citizenship as
quickly as the workings of bureaucracy can manage it. Even Reag, proudly,
admits we are far from abominations. Having at last arrived on the other side,
welcomed into our diverse human family, we are proud to be part of these
exciting times. We are discovering uses for our hard won strengths in the
greater human community. Still, most of us find we prefer to settle in
low-density population areas, where the incidence of psychic impressions is
easier to manage.
Several of us
are building a kind of mini-compound out here in a fairly secluded mountainous
area. We are very happy to be free, living a relatively quiet life. We even
forgive Calinda and Reag for being insufferably proud expectant parents. Little
Freedom, as we are already calling her, will be the first freeborn of our
people. We can’t wait to tell her her story.
Thirteen Wizards Shall Guide You,
rotating in 7s,
to be chosen from a wizard test
administered at regular intervals
to any who wish to
apply.
Each wizard shall serve at his/her
pleasure -- until they decide to move on.
Any wizard may return by retesting
and getting the highest score amongst
those currently in line at the
time of a vacancy, like any other candidate.
The test to be devised by a wise
pre-council to ascertain qualities of
wisdom, compassion,
responsibility, integrity and clarity of communication.
The test may be reviewed and
revised at any time that the full council agrees
to do so, based on evidence of
better result to be gained.
The wizards do not make the
laws.
Laws are made by direct democracy,
after a sufficient period of debate when
an overwhelming majority of
consensus seems likely.
Wizards do have veto
power.
Wizards do not control the
economy. That is the province of the market.
The wizards do oversee the use and
conservation of common resources.
They do oversee a social
infrastructure that assures everyone a comfortable, secure
livelihood. They do oversee
disputes to assure that everyone is treated fairly
in the course of commerce, and in
the course of community life.
They are not paid an outright
salary.
They are given comfortable living
conditions that their minds may be free
of personal want.
slap the beat Friday the 13
Stuff happens everywhere. Those
involved get special prayers, funds raised in school fairs, helping hands
clapped across their back. Unless they live across the sacred track, have papers
that don't quite pass inspection.
Of course, we get what we
deserve. If we live beyond the pale, whatever be our tale, it's up to us to
serve in silent awe. Our cross to bear, because we're born impure. It's lovely
that your source can be so sure. Insurrection
can't be condoned, nor endured.
Suffer in contrition for the condition of failed dreams, unseemly scraping by.
'Tis not I who makes these rules. Thus it's ever been, will be, until we choose
to honor freedom,
admit reality into negotiations
for solutions, until we can agree on this experiment's conclusion. The power of
fusion surpasses the power of dissolution.
blood poems for an October 13 evening
Small girlchild, rags and dust –
follow
her morning of traverse, this tiny world
allowed.
Each tent flap reveals fester of wounds
deep
and shallow, ravage
disease.
Senses, thought, subsumed to beat of
breath
outside rational
context.
Stuck in the dirt, her worth a hole
where
she bottoms out, tributary blood
expelled.
Government
happens
Power differentials are
natural
Makes sense to attend to these
matters
consciously,
rationally.
Hot heads, coarse tongues, flail of
arm,
crush of foot, outthrust chest,
rancorous
demands
lively show and
tell;
Yes, such forceful yell might get
bells
ringing, choirs singing, merry
pageantry.
After roaring Sun’s descended,
crowds
disbanded to bars and
beds
to dream lusty victories or
private
histories, nobody charged to
watch
for this twinkling of
time.
Without law, there is no
crime.
Without rules, no crown
ascends
by common call – but only
by
all against all
in squall of
terrors,
contests of survival,
games
scored in
blood.
Muses dance,
explore motion.
Segue to and
fro
two steps back; a flurry
forward.
Satin cats, tails
a’fling
pirouette, scurry
choreography.
No tomorrow. No scheduled glee
for
public
appearances.
Time’s a’clanging, impatient
clamors
for unknown
seasons.
Rainstorm
howls,
cleanses,
sends tidings, murky repentance
and
beard for
tears.
Savage rain
tip-tapping
rhythms and
blues.
Barrels for dipping, for
ritual
washing, for tribal hydration,
replenishment.
Agriculture,
hunger, health, hygiene. Sordid
rain,
ashen water, terror, pain,
diluted
blood.
Storm warnings advise
caution.
Cover yer windows and
blinds.
Hide in cellars and
pray.
Find salvation in fearsome
company.
Oh, Hell – give in! Cave into slippery
ground;
swallow and be
swallowed.
The rains came, carried fortune to further
shores
and supplicants.
Long into unspoken
tomorrows.
Dread – crusty needles eject embalming
poison
Stiff, rusted shut, ooze tarnished prison
door.
Electrified to molten
waste.
Lost wastrel, chased into rough
wood.
How could good ever tough
through?
Seethe tooth and
fang.
Anger will tighten screws,
coils.
No mercy to win when cardinal sin is
innocence.
Don’t chatter of
cruelty,
turn red in
shame.
Remember the wise one winked “No
blame.”
while wheeling outside reach of
stage.
There are no great
secrets,
barbed network of
lies.
There is this blood
bludgeon
of power wielded by minions and
slaves
with too little to
win.
If a moonlit beach at midnight called
siren songs,
embracing melody, calming waves
--
if urgent desire brokered
change.
Cypher
O’ evil Man
It is not your gods who make you
so.
They laugh at their celestial
balls,
silly little mood
slaves
primed to vomit sour
wine,
feast after bloody
binge.
Who is the moral
gatekeeper,
the celebrated purveyor of
righteousness?
Who the masked
scoundrel,
cross-dressed wolves and
lambs
in demonic jig?
A lively game to wile away
some
vague eternity.
Our children obscured in
armament.
So many souls to
devour.
Tonight’s
Impression
Dig, deep into unlikely
crevices.
Unsightly
blemishes
covered in mud, old crusted
blood,
more suffering than
shame.
If none know my
name,
can they curse
me?
Always rehearsing
for
untended curtains,
productionless
plays.
Gospel
Sally, won't you
go
downtown
Pick up some teabag
party
clowns
We'll teach 'em tricks of
trade
from streets walled in
by
degradation
Ain't this nation
grand
for glad hands raised in
celebration
of shames we dare not
name.
Hallelujah
Hallelucinations
Hallowed ground
baptized
in blood
Saved from the cleansing
Flood
by sticking to our
kind
however we're defining us
today
If we were meant to
live
a different way
wouldn't He have told
us?
(Hollow) Theme
Party
Bleeding across the
page
Not pretty
Naked self-pity
a turn off
better passed
by
Rather, let us speak
of
solitude, the
advantages
of wealth
kept to oneself
No beasts lessen my
load
No supplicants beg to
share
Luxuriously wrapped in my
lair
laughing and dancing on
gold
acutely aware of thin cold
urchins
out on a distant
plain
They are no kin to
me;
out there for
atmosphere
I am Deity within this
domain
blood you see
splattered
on this page
fell from other
veins
some poor
unfortunate
released from
pain
How pretty! Let's
party!
A gala affair,
enraptured
alone in my
lair
Our Gang
Outrage
Depression facing
outward
Taking power to give it
away.
This entrained
impulse
See them crackling,
jangling
puppets at puppy
play,
bite, bark,
entangle,
grab and
tussle,
growl, muscle in for the
kill.
Bloodlust
arousal.
Natural as puke, as
death,
violation as violent
orgy
violation as
ecstatic
initiation to the
brotherhood.
Life elevated to dreams,
goals,
carefu weighing of coin and
hours,
dependable plans, actions that honor can
favor,
love, duty, allegiance to the rules of
sanity
and kind regard
have no purpose
here.
Men of blood and battle
fluid
need no fine speeches, no valor
--
only food and
receptacles
for their
waste.
13. What face do you put on to face your
fears?
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