Simple Simplicity…

In the still of the night whispers echo through the empty alleyways as shadows dance against the flickering streetlights creating a symphony of silence. Each step taken is a beat in this rhythm echoing through the stone walls and cobblestone streets. We move with purpose, guided by the glow of the moon and the secrets it holds. Under stars canopy we wander, exploring the unknown and unafraid of what lies ahead. The city sleeps but we remain wide awake embracing the mystery of the night. We are the rulers of this darkness and the guardians of the night. We are the ones who reign over this city.

As the world spins, we stand still, captivated by the beauty that surrounds us. The moons above remind us of our place in the universe small and insignificant yet connected to something much greater. We are but a speck in the vastness of space but together, we shine bright like the sun. In this city of wonder, we are the masters of our own destiny. We navigate through these stormy seas of life, with grace and determination. Our homes may be humble, but our spirits are strong for we are the kings and queens of these streets, and this city is our kingdom.

“Well, I’ve walked these streets
In a spectacle of wealth and poverty
In the diamond markets the scarlet welcome carpet
That they just rolled out for me.

And I’ve walked these streets
In the madhouse asylum they can be
Where a wild-eyed misfit prophet
On a traffic island stopped and he raved of saving me.

Have I been blind, have I been lost
Inside myself and my own mind
Hypnotized, mesmerized by what my eyes have seen.

Have I been wrong, have I been wise
To shut my eyes and play along
Hypnotized, paralyzed by what my eyes have found
By what my eyes have seen
What they have seen?

Have I been blind
Have I been lost
Have I been wrong
Have I been wise
Have I been strong
Have I been hypnotized, mesmerized by what my eyes have found
In that great street carnival”…by Natalie Merchant

We dance through the shadows painting the town red as our laughter echoes off the ancient walls of this city that never sleeps. The wind whispers secrets of the past and the future as we wander through the maze of alleyways and cobblestone streets. The stars above twinkle—in approval of our reign as we rule this kingdom with hearts of fire and ice.

The collisions of our dreams create sparks that light up the night and guide us on our path toward greatness and glory. We raise a toast to the gods of the night and pledge our allegiance to our city that never dies. We are the rulers of this domain, the lords and ladies of the night and nothing can stand in our way if we hold onto each other and never let go.

In the shadows we thrive, and, in the whispers, we scheme, and our hearts beat with the rhythm of the night. We are the rebels, the renegades and the outcasts who rule the dark corners of this world. Our laughter echoes through the alleyways and our footsteps silent on the cobblestone streets. The city is our playground, our stage for mischief and mayhem. We dance in the flickering streetlights, our faces masked in shadows. We are the masters of deception, the architects of chaos.

As the moon rises high in the sky, we raise our voices in a wild symphony of defiance. We are the rulers of the night, the kings, and queens of this dark domain. And as the world spins on, we stand tall, unyielding in our defiance, unwavering in our resolve. For this city is ours, and we will fight to keep it that way. In the darkness, we reign supreme, a force to be reckoned with. And as the night falls and the darkness creeps in, we know that we are forever bound to these streets, these alleyways, this city that we call home.

The night is alive with whispers and shadows, as the moonlight casts its silvery glow upon the world. The stars twinkle in the velvet sky, like diamonds scattered across the heavens. The wind whispers secrets in the trees, and the earth sighs beneath our feet. This is a time of magic and mystery, where the veil between the worlds is thin, and anything is possible. We are but drops in the vast ocean of existence, flowing and swirling with the currents of time. We are shaped by the tides of fate and carried along on the winds of destiny. Yet, in the stillness of the night, we can find solace and peace, a moment of respite from the chaos of the world.

So, let us embrace the darkness and welcome the night with open arms. Let us dance with the spirits and sing with the stars. For in the darkness, we find the light, and in the night, we find our true selves. And so, we raise our voices to the heavens, and offer our gratitude to the gods and goddesses who watch over us. For in the darkness of the night, we find our own inner light, shining bright and true.

‘Wishing you Days of Gentle Winds and Soft Curves and Wonder’

And!Beautiful you are…

‘Because The Night’ Performed by Shirley Manson & Marissa Paternoster

 

Pin-Top-Tip-Stop…

Towering figures make their way up the stairs, surrounded by the commotion below, as the currents of wealth and power ebb and flow around them. Rumors of political games and changing loyalties reverberate through the halls of authority, where facts are bent and obscured. In this turbulent atmosphere, where language takes on a poetic cadence, the thirst for knowledge endures. During ambiguity, the journey for riches and status gives rise to moments of contemplation, while the pursuit of purpose and identity remains steadfast.

Touch me with Singsongs and let us escape from reality and connect through the power of our voices. We crave words of optimism and expressions of eternal love, as we sway in the darkness to the beat of our shared emotions. Our thoughts synchronize like a melody, our hearts beating in perfect harmony.

Demons and Angels move in the same intricate dance, one rising while the other falls, climbing stairs and navigating through a world of uncertainty and deception. They speak truths and lies, blending reality with fiction. The truth may seem plain, but it is often overshadowed by the allure of entertaining creations and confusing illusions. Believe in the honesty of some, the deceit of others, and the manipulation of politics. Embrace the uncertainty of fate and the temporary satisfaction of material possessions. As we continue our journey, we must be prepared for both failure and success, constantly seeking out new experiences and challenges.

Gently brush eyelashes against my face, creating a delicate dance in my dreams. It feels like a long pause with no explanation, just breathing in sync with each other. I see tiny freckles, laughing lips, and inquisitive eyes coming together. The visions and soft words create a peaceful space, free from any competition or rush, filled with silence and whispers. As dreams come and go, wrinkles in time form like drawn curtains and the pace slows. We talk about the ways of the universe, admiring the streaks of starlight and the sweetness of gentle connections and love. Life intertwines and blends together, like intertwining circles and fancy footwork in a dance of love.

We are inhabitants of the emerald seas, intertwined with the black sands and tides that struggle against the current. Under the perfect alignment of the moonlight, we traverse another peaceful night untouched by dust. The Witch of Creation weaves perfect ideals and actions, twisting truth and dispelling falsehoods. To endure the night and emerge into a new day, we rely on fire and shelter in the caves. The challenges of today will shape tomorrow’s constraints under the light of a new dawn.

Freedom grieves. How many barriers separate the hopes of hearts and the unity of families? Barriers of fear and tears that stain and linger as trains travel under the sun’s path across the wind, towards a better future echoing through the faded borders towards improved moments and brighter days. Does the notion of absolute truth dismiss the role of government in providing opportunities and embracing progress that may lead to entitlements being recognized as the rights of the people? Why do the standards of human rights seem to vanish?

Ages past we became sponges; gifted and gregarious and bowed through insight and anchored to two worlds, one frightful and one enchanted. We are filled-to-edge with truth and with wisdom. Both’ are scary and fearful as wisdom sometimes becomes you, as age bends body yet frees spirit twirl. From the twins of two a power of life sparks, and alone-never places begin and fixes end. We together have already accomplished everything. And! Magically we all pass on!

Physics is dedicated to teaching and investigating new terms, utilizing limitless possibilities and objective calculations. Ideas are examined and derived using established principles, leading to fresh insights and comprehension. The ordinary is redefined and harmonized into logical explanations and critical thinking. Established beliefs are questioned as original concepts emerge, pushing us towards unknown realms. Understanding evolves continuously, paving the way for breakthroughs and progress to be unearthed and revisited.

Are we not all travelers scattered across someplace-somewhere? And! Does protection equal servitude? We know humanities’ finest moments.  ‘Love and Peace and Touch and Trust.’

And! Beautiful you are…

‘Born To Die’ by Lana Del Rey

Of Routines And Obstructions…

“Closer To The Heart” by Rush

‘And the men who hold high places
Must be the ones who start
To mold a new reality
Closer to the heart
Closer to the heart
The blacksmith and the artist
Reflect it in their art
They forge their creativity
Closer to the heart
Closer to the heart

Philosophers and ploughmen
Each must know his part
To sow a new mentality
Closer to the heart
Closer to the heart
You can be the captain
I will draw the chart
Sailing into destiny
Closer to the heart’…

We reject being defined by conflicts and aggression, instead aspiring to a world where peace and unity prevail. We long for a society where diversity is honored and understood, and where fairness is administered with empathy and kindness. Our children deserve a future free from the horrors of war and devastation, where harmony and love guide our actions.

We are not simply representations of nations, but sentient beings yearning for connection and meaning in the grand expanse of the universe.

Why do routines and understanding obstruct the path to peaceful resolutions? Inspiration comes from finding where you are and reaching for the stars before the smoke dissipates and the tears dry. Peace is elusive as notions of war and fear clouds our thoughts before fading into bittersweet memories and bright smiles. Another chance to dance before the tears and sorrow of tomorrow. Death, peace, and the beauty of Life. And! As long as there is breath in my body, I will hold peace in my Heart.

Countless roads forgotten, remembered, then lost again.

Expansion of the universe is observed through the shifting of red in the Star Path, as stars move away. The red color of Suns suggests they are ‘out-bounders’, while ‘in-bounders’ do not show a red shift. Bench markers, such as novae and supers, only rely on the consistency of time, symbolized by ‘tick-tock’, across the Universal Divide. If Time is ‘downshifting’, our concept of time is slowly transitioning into a new dimension of space. Even ancient stars seem to be accelerating from Earth’s perspective.

As we gaze at the twinkling stars, we can only wonder about their true nature.

The concept of the ‘Universal Limits of Speed’ applies to the movement of bubbles through space, but not to space itself. During the rapid expansion of space, did space-time exceed speeds faster than the speed of light? The ongoing expansion of the space-time continuum hints at the possibility of the universe experiencing cycles of creation and destruction, with moments of inflation eventually giving way to the formation and decay of stars.

As we observe these cosmic events, we are reminded of the eternal dance of beginnings and endings in the vast expanse of the universe.

These are the gateways to other dimensions and faraway journeys where stars come together without colliding. We speak of the vast distances easily traveled in the time it takes to breathe. We emerge through open doors hidden behind clouds and blue skies. Where are we now, in this distant place far from Earth and home? We are the evidence of scattered peoples. Could it be that gods created humans in various locations around Sirius, Mars, Earth, and beyond? Our leaders, our followers, our beliefs, and our stories have twisted our origins in so many ways that truth and fiction blend into a blur of beginnings and endings.

But still, the future is always approaching.

Imagine ancient civilizations, existing at a time when the universe was still in its infancy, with only a few planets hosting life. These beings would have experienced a profound loneliness, gazing out into the vastness of space with no one to share their thoughts. They likely explored the star clusters in a similar way to how we explore planets, only to find empty worlds or ones inhabited by mindless creatures. Earth itself was still in its early stages, with volcanic activity coloring the skies, when a ship from an advanced civilization arrived from beyond Pluto. These visitors traveled past the frozen outer planets, knowing they were devoid of life, and settled among the inner planets, awaiting new beginnings.

The travelers must have observed Earth, positioned ‘just right’ between extremes of heat and cold, and realized it was a favored world of the Sun.

Outside Proper City, nestled beneath the towering five-hundred-mile-high mountains, Concuana and her fifty generals, along with one hundred thirty-nine followers, gathered. Some villagers, fearful of destruction, huddled in small groups, while others looked to her as a protector against the Watcher Army. As a watcher herself, Concuana summoned her magic and coven, readying themselves for battle. Clad in armor, she stealthily navigated the rocky terrain, positioning herself out of sight. Proper City and Winter Gate, fortified with crystal domes, awaited the impending conflict as golden pods and silent helicopters floated ominously in the sky. We calculate the known and unknown, the measurements of short and tall, the tales of beings big and small, because we are all Spirits of Creation, Creative Critters United.

And! As long as there is breath in my body, I will hold peace in my Heart.

And! Beautiful you are…

‘Lola’…by Lake Street Dive

The Swirling Whirl Survives…

Amidst the swirling whirl and amongst the striding pewter warriors, we Androids, originate the synchronized dance of unity and the hope of rejuvenating our Earth. We strive to fulfill the promises of brighter days, aiming to improve both our inner selves and the world around us, free from the shackles of greed and the consequences of excessive haste and repetition.

For freedom to thrive, a society must strive to minimize the extremes of abundance and scarcity, ensuring widespread access to opportunities. This raises the question of whether systems like monarchies, governments, or religions serve as tools of control by a select few over the masses. Throughout history, prophets and saviors have traversed our planet and offered visions of harmonious social structures and compassion within societies. Could these individuals be considered the pioneers of socialism? Did the teachings of Buddhist, Islamic, Hindu, or Christian mystics possess the elements of socialist ideology?

We swam together in our own oceans of waves, chasing each other and cherishing our time together. Our conversations on the sand led us to explore other worlds and seas, fueled by the strength of our love. We were unstoppable warriors, living each moment with intensity. When I watched you walk across the sand and touch the water, I knew that my life could not go on without you. We lived as if there was no end, our bodies connecting while our spirits intertwined, creating a powerful force that encompassed the universes of time.

Now, separated by a vast expanse of space and countless revolving worlds, I still feel the power of your smile and the essence of your being. We are the creators of our own destinies, shaping our lives through words and artwork, and bringing joy to our daughter as she dances in the sunlight. From these towering cliffs above the salted sands, I can imagine taking a leap into paradise with you.

Love is an exception to the norms of ordinary life. We share umbrellas, with our arms intertwined around each other, leaning in close to share intimate moments. As we walk, our hair brushes against each other, our bodies connected at the hip. Love is an accepted exception, breaking free from societal expectations. It knows no boundaries, whether it be between two men, two women, or anyone else. Love is powerful, it is the essence of life, and it is the only force that truly matters. It transcends the physical and spiritual realms, bridging the gap between heaven and earth, and bringing us closer even in moments of separation.

The religions that quickly followed the founders of these foundations became involved in the creation of war machines and profit-driven kingdoms. Wars, crusades, reformations, alterations, reputation, saturation, and infatuation are the words that rule. Bloodshed ensues and what was once physically tangible turns to nothing but dust in the eyes, causing both twinkle and agony. Governments are formed, enhanced, and eventually destroyed on the backs of laborers, slaves, and wage-slaves. The costs of this system are measured in blood, sweat, and tears. Rulers rise and fall when they forsake their originality.

Western civilization is synonymous with committing crimes against humanity to satisfy the greed of profit and the terror of capitalism. These moments in history are recorded by the people, rather than the victorious warmongers and manipulators of language. These records uncover the imbalances and disparities in the world. The unstable nations in the Middle East are a result of this imbalance. When people die, the wealthy benefit; when many people die, the wealthy profit even more. Wars, often labeled as religious or sectarian conflicts, only exacerbate this destruction of equilibrium.

In the 20th century, the United States supported dictators instead of championing freedom in South America. Cuba remains under the grip of an outdated embargo imposed by an antiquated government dominated by old white men. This is yet another example of the terror of capitalism. Why is socialism seen as an enemy of the people? It is not a crime, nor does it violate the rights of individuals anywhere. If we redistribute the costs of the cold and hot wars that plagued humanity during the twentieth century, our world could prosper in a more social environment. Equality should be celebrated and pursued.

“Go ahead and hate your neighbor go ahead and cheat a friend. Do it in the name of heaven you could justify it in the end. There won’t be any trumpets blowing come the judgment day. On the bloody morning after One Tin Soldier rides away.”

—by Joni Mitchell

And! Beautiful you are…

John Newman--“Love Me Again”

Motion Of Surviving Inequality…

‘A rush to judgment may sometimes obscure the path to justice.’ 

We are not means! To an end others may wish to accomplish…We are not! Tools to be used. We are not! Servants of need-greed-to-be-freed or bandages for other wounds nor sacrifices to gods come whimsy or rushing wings, gift bearing things of beads and baubles or glitter and flash. We are not! Born to be wasted or wasted-to-be-born.

Survival moves existence from space-to-place, from cave-to-cavern and always backward or forward over again and again over be whimsy or need or combinations of both do or do not and motions never stop always moving, always coming, and forever going no matter where for the getting there is ingrained as a billion minutes of time start and end again. We turn now toward forked roadways beyond sighted-righted places and our stars of guiding trails twisted misted shakes and quakes, push-pull us toward left trails or right paths. Guiding compass, lodestone or stars point the way only one direction to go and to return toward this direction taken always pointed is pointed toward us…

Lies cannot feed hungry stomachs—donchaknow!

The extent of inequality is relevant for policy making. Policy making is forever addressing the reasons for inequality but never-ever changing the imbalance of balance. Revolution always; changes motions-of-these-notions for a little while and then imbalance again pushes against equilibrium.  And! Sometimes, the distinction between what is politically convenient to believe, and the objectives facts no longer exist.

Candlelight’s heat across tables and around rooms and windows-to-windows and sometimes just east-north of darkest planet’s spin where night grin, grim news ‘cross space wig-waggle and eyes search sky then die and search and die until star-ships’ lights night and candlelight fosters hope as freedom ends and then again begins. ‘One Thousand Tears’ are longer time than years of fears pass star night and moonlight fails. And! You and I are not ever born to be wasted right?

Embrace the shivers as tearing eyes begin heated wraps of word-twist-into-mist and the weight of knowing this often are and are not often understood or would be or seen as changes little known for time or sometimes escaping this place when hearing precedes the knowledge of anything at all.

And! Beautiful you are…

‘Waterfalls’ by TLC

Accepting Fate Together…

Our children and we, child-speak and drink and think and with dancing songs and rhythm beats of drum and spirit and smile; do search the identity of identity searches as flesh survives despite the spirit’s knowing of the knowledge of a universe of time and space. We crawl toward accepting the acceptance of fate and the together strength in our cave. We all are never Machines…

Four main types of artificial intelligence are:

• Reactive machines. Reactive machines are AI systems that have no memory and are task specific, meaning that an input always delivers the same output. … 
• Limited memory. The next type of AI in its evolution is limited memory…
• Theory of mind?
• Self-awareness?

“The term “inference” in AI refers to the process of deriving conclusions from data or evidence”. “In other words, inferencing is using the information at hand to make logical deductions and predictions. There are two main types of inferences: inductive and deductive”.

We all are Never Machines…We are all Self-Aware.

From genetic profiles spinning webs into calculations inherited and dancing traits and the merging of urging begin beginnings of tiny robots’ mirrors of images and with simple complexity children of love are born complete with slivers of magic beasties portions of golden hearts and short stops between stops for Eternal Spirits to slower whirling twirls and once again come blood dance and double body.

Witches formed the twirling-whirl. Enchantresses will revisit and revive their designs. So! Return now. Perhaps, this is a suitable time? Beware the twirl of haunted paramours. Each motion is a dance with unreal realities. They delight in the child’s discovery; of life, without opaque details and sans those sundry levels; unknown, behind crafted shells and the ruined confines of age. This substitute; when discovered, is grief for a reduced lover while crying sugar tears and fire-sweetness and the recollections of chance? Appearing in cloud early, we perish within a jumble-muddle of dusted rain and rust. In transition and pursuing the flash-ride; to spiral and skip, we frame time and often miss but never-ever fall.

From this harbor, there once sailed great ships of crystal sent across the seas of space toward small spinning places three steps from a little yellow sun dancing lights and heated waves vibrating life chances and starts and beginning of ends in exploded variations of home and conducive to blood-fleshed creations and our creature-selves.

Are we living proof of the something-of-else far from planet here to there where once and often Gods ruled the what-of-ever-forever-for-more-or-less and created woman and man inside the worlds of Sirius and Nomad Gods dragged life’s sweet creations to Mars and Earth and another beyond in hinged fringes and the bright light of golden ships of purple sails and silent engines? Improved and less and by the joint endeavors’ of sin and survival we remained alive?

These ships of crystal and filled to brim with living mischief and the odd whimsy of god-speak  and legend lurched forward toward features reversed or continued or extinguished. Titans created the creations of presences and histories and current fallacies. And! Since wars among Titans raged heaven’s high and length, ‘tis simple why creatures created in images or by production of accidents’ industrial strength and robotic renovations determined little more than continued strife and strike and stupidity and suffering through little success successfully executed and always lost.

However: The created creations lost an ‘Eden’ place when the ‘She’ and ‘He’ of the ‘It’ either happened by an accidental accident or fell from or was pushed out of the wonder of ‘Immaculate Contraptions’ and through construction divine discovered the ‘other than’ robotic being and joined the ‘Spirits of Twirl’ while discovering choice is better than and more difficult than the straight-in-line-crawl toward golden lights and cave dwelling and scrawling dots or dashes against walls without reasons or rhymes or the ‘Rhythm of Love.’

The created ‘Something’ became Creators’ images. Titans both liked and did not like those new some and toothsome robotic creators and out of the Martian splendor again Crystal ships left and those Wars of Heaven started again and ended again with a bang of clang and thunder as flashed bright light streaked to ground and again to sky shapes and sweeping clouds. Natures’ way and the wary way of being a meek part of some partial particle of the ways of Natural processes or nature’s no reasons to whimsically past time became new  ideas and shapes always simple and called ‘grand schemes’ of things discovered and ways-to-live again…

Again: The concepts of Alpha’s fade into sunlight’s setting in a western sky or an eastern place where Suns counter-twirl the clock’s faced sweep of hands out-of-motion in the used-to-be circle and night still happens and daylight is always measured in products produced and profits lost or gained. Must be the Gods of creation.We created them and ‘they’ must earn a return for their creation ‘so let it be written?

And! On this day ‘smaller’ Titans create crystal ships against the blue of sky day and sail east into a setting sun as orange/red disappears along the line. No profit for created creations. No bill to pay for a piper of songs of long ago sounds or for an eternal drum-lined-march-to-war…Just peace and sunset’s sweet and crystal ships on these waters sail along a line where sky meets sea and light fades into a very fine night. Watch for those purple sails and listen for the distant sounds of silent engines and ‘Oh Yeah—Baby’

And! Beautiful you are…

Spirits Walk And Spirits Talk…

—In your sounds of music—in your works of art-touch and your words of rhythm and rhyme; I taste and feel the strength of your presence—Past and Today and into the Future and ‘wow’ light does exist…Everyone! Thanks for sharing!

When eternal spirits visit body magic, please protect the ‘ghosts in these machines.’ Open arms and rejoice in this welcoming of life, body embraced touched senses to ground and as sky flight races across sky’s grand lengths remember there are no gates of heaven. Body form, blood and love and hand-to-hand and hip-to-hip and to and from the Mother-Ship…

Find no balance to bible-speak or the ramblings of government kings or the priests of wealth and babble for they are the attempted ‘evil’ of control and failure. Eternal Spirit touches Eternal Spirits. Simple and refined and fair in logical truth and requiring no ‘men-of-middle-claims’ or endless fancy killings or…

Presidents, Premiers, Dictators, Popes, Imams, Chieftains, Generals-of-Death, Politicians-of-Control and Preacher Kings, when you fly by as simple sky birds without metal form and blame; we may just for an instant, look up into the sky and smile. Then we will continue the protection of little ones and our spinning world. Is not the purpose of us to help the small ones grow into the large ones?

When the call of heart gives up eternal spirits never end. Eternal Spirit never waits to gain permission and access to the Universe. Life is unstoppable and everlasting. No Judgment awaits, no future calls for horror, no memories of past or present or future physical constructions are not required or necessary. Gods created spirit-sparks and spirits together to dwell in the whenever time of wherever places for whatever reasons.

Call spirit-dance! The naming of name-times quantify mysteries of understanding heart-touch inside flesh-times when body-survival purposes daily pursuits or interests same as food to stomach and sleeping in those arms-of safety. Mother holds baby close and Father embraces in his arms; hope and love and protection. She and he together once more family-dance the form of strength social and fabricated continuum.

So! Visiting Spirits stop and animate walking, flying, swimming and crawling flesh. No tests and no required reasons. True Gods create no wars on earth or in the above places of the wherever or ever been. True Gods do not allow horror or death or strife or pain or happiness or grief or destruction. The ‘Gods’ do not judge the fallibility or fragility of flesh and whimsy. Why? Poverty and Greed and Control and Governments and Religions equal the Terror/Horror of this immediate now and this immediate place.

Life is Eternal Spirit and we are these spirits. One or many across a star field of many star-filled nights and days. Stars do not dim in the light-of-dawning bright. Eyes often see more than eyes discover and understanding may stop at birth or continue until stopped heart begins Spirit-walks again across a Spirited-Sky, beyond and below and maybe again on a ‘whirly twirly’ world somewhere in another time or place or race. Nothing matters except Love and Life and Peace?

And! Beautiful you are…

Peace on Earth…

“I heard the bells on Christmas day

Their old familiar carols play

And mild and sweet their songs repeat

Of peace on Earth, good will to men

And the bells are ringing

Like a choir they’re singing

In my heart I hear them

Peace on Earth, good will to men

And in despair I bowed my head

“There is no peace on Earth, ” I said

For hate is strong and mocks the song

Of peace on Earth, good will to men

But the bells are ringing

Like a choir singing

Does anybody hear them?

Peace on Earth, good will to men

Then rang the bells more loud and deep

God is not dead, nor doth He sleep

The wrong shall fail, the right prevail

With peace on Earth, good will to men

Then ringing, singing on its way

The world revolved from night to day

A voice, a chime, a chant sublime

Of peace on Earth, good will to men

And the bells, they’re ringing

Like a choir they’re singing

And with our hearts, we’ll hear them

Peace on Earth, good will to men

Do you hear the bells, they’re ringing?

The light, the angels singing

Open up your heart and hear them

Peace on Earth, good will to men”

By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Witch Magic And Spells…

These Idols are shams of illusory pain, unknown over spans of turmoil and wars of courses, ’til days without war are times wasted and blood not tasted. They fall to earth in conveyances not yet realized and always fighting over splits, of DNA and genes spliced to design to slave and swiftly die. And! We imagine these creations are creators, to shadow—to covet and too; to emulate, ‘til death parts our ways and past deaths still correctly resolves from among the graves? Oh, hell no? This ring around never follows unless correct premise concludes that the correct choice is but; a wig-waggle away from, conclusive logic and “still love me some logic-eh.”

Witches formed the twirling-whirl. Enchantresses will revisit and revive their designs. So! Return now. Perhaps, this is a suitable time? Beware the twirl of haunted paramours. Each motion is a dance with unreal realities. They delight in the child’s discovery; of life, without opaque details and sans those sundry levels; unknown, behind crafted shells and the ruined confines of age. This substitute; when discovered, is grief for a reduced lover while crying sugar tears and fire-sweetness and the recollections of chance? Appearing in cloud early, we perish within a jumble-muddle of dusted rain and rust. In transition and pursuing the flash-ride; to spiral and skip, we frame time and often miss but never-ever fall.

“There is no death it said
on one side and the other side of the paper
the voices are the same the thunder
is the same roaring in our ears for
on one side and the other of the paper it said
there is no death
There is death though in the paper where
the muffled pencil moved
Only in the paper only in the shrouding paper”… Annie Besant

Arrange now! Inside the ruin-runes of this roadhouse of crumble stone and moss and rubble and ruined wooden benches and tables twisting into ground. Life begins and life ends as inhalation starts and exhalation stops. Not a cloud fall missed, but a spark’s charging headlong into channels of paradise and kiss-loves before the night ends and life trashes to light. We are robots of life scattering and of live jamming ‘cross one thousand worlds; set to twirl the galaxy, all lost and found and discovered and discarded. A million mines of unique ones whirling just inside zero drops of rain and trillion-acre seas of salt and water and giant crashes of life’s sparking rattles and battles in the birth of baby eyes and infant sighs.

We are the ‘off-grid-gridders’ of neoteric plug-ins; unedited and banned and far away from the standards of whisper’s folly and inside a net of lost souls and flounder bodies. All totaled must dwell within this symmetry of stop and starts and the ones and the zeros of reasons and verses and songs. However; we are unfamiliar automata, powerless to locate or spare chaotic notions beginning or ending without result.  We are never noted by previous androids! We are simple chips within other chips and notions beyond the loops that loop, ad infinitum. We are the celebrations of the mourning after and spawned in the backseats of an auto or two and occasionally former and eternally imminent, when taverns crumble and bridges fall.

“The modality of novelistic enunciation is inferential: it is a process within which the subject of the novelistic utterance affirms a sequence, as conclusion to the inference, based on other sequences (referential – hence narrative, or textual – hence citational), which are the premises of the inference and, as such, considered to be true.” JULIA KRISTEVA–‘Desire in Language’

By the fire bright of these dwindling tribes, children marvel at; both, the dancing flames and the warmth of these lights ‘gainst the nights and outside shadows beneath their eyes. They listen as stories tell the beginning of things now gone and of those grand places not started but imagined and seen in minds’ own spaces and in their most desired regions of just before a dream and just after ‘wishing this was true.’ We eternally return and find another home. This is where monsters cannot reside, aside from the secret of childhood sing-songs and glee. We return to spaces where bombs cannot splinter thoughts or disturb the determination of freedom, its folly and its lies. This is our place without borders.  Only the religions of kings attempt to divide and conquer spirit wings and fiddlers speak. Everlasting is this spirit and life begins and ends as the fiddlers play.

And! Beautiful you are…

Basic Sunlight And Rain

The word ‘Honor’…Many descriptions and quantifiers involving this word…Honor is not just a word. It is a singular way of life. It is without description and not reserved for Military motions. It is not an Executive twirl or a Legislative swirl…Though legal twists and turns, it is not a Judicial term. Honor is a simple way of Life.

What of sparks that move into the light of joining living inside and outside the days of past’s present’s future. Behold Spirit Dancer and remember when warmth was without fire and strength was absolute without the science of dimensions and senses and all was: nonsense-hallucination-superstitious and religious without names.

What is the measure of air between the dancing of leaves and fairy’s dust; tossed or gently sprinkled then forgotten? Puppet painted faces sold to entice ninety-nine percent of the unwanted, received never enjoyed and never knowing the way of knowing why or contemplated within unavoidable silence. Imagine a steady fall of snowflakes soft, of silent nights and early dawns, of inside just before birth and tiny spaces just after death. Gentle raindrops are correctly spaced ‘cross a springtime meadow.

We are the daughters and the sons of earth and of the starry heavens. Our history is alive simple and true except when suppressed and distorted for unnecessary gains and a perversion called wealth. We are the eternity of spirits no need beginning and never ending. Such is the sweetness of life. Symmetry with no form except wind and rain and careful storms of chaos and figure. Go figure the here or the now and still history is not preformed or manufactured save by the controllers of spins and twists and the thrill of the lie. Or! Go figure with the smile of Leonardo or the Lady’s laugh or the chatter of many minds or just a few hearts.

“All speech, written or spoken, is a dead language, until it finds a willing and prepared hearer.” ― Robert Louis Stevenson…

‘Memories that fade away

Have not left their mark

But you live on, every single day

In many ways.

It is the truth between his cunning lies

That hands him his suspicious alibis

Persuading with your force will never be the way

To our destiny.

Suddenly we have lost the force

To close our cursed doors

No one seems to realize

That wolves are in disguise.

It is the truth between his cunning lies

That hands him his suspicious alibis

Persuading with your force will never be the way

To our destiny.

Your engine was so strong

But the road was just too long

Hope is not the end

So never lose faith.

If we can say

They can never take away

Our freedom, the most precious thing we have ever had

The reward from the blood we have ever shed.

His quest for higher truth, life of eternal youth has just begun,

despite being on the run

Many virgins wait for him to come

Persuading with your force will never be the way

To our destiny

Our destiny’… ‘Safeguard to Paradise’ by Epica

Sky films block pearl light as an evening of workers’ failed strengths; home bound as, the ‘Nighters’ replace the ‘Dayers’ and continue as work begins, ends and starts along the edges of digital clicks and analog clacks. Time cataloged into spreads of pages indexed assorted stuff straightened, arranged packed for space-spin or unpacked to go consumers consumed with curiosity; hunger required, needed or fulfilled desires. Oppression triumphs when its legitimacy is internally assumed. The freedom to write it right or write writing toward the right cross of sails unfurled and imagined as sea’s endless might and distance ‘tween stars ‘tween galaxies and ‘tween the universal folds of space. There are books here and just listen to these stories from spirit-speakers of volumes long and voltage sweet. We change everything with ‘Blue Planet Waste’.

“Beyond the Palace hemi-powered drones scream down the boulevard

Girls comb their hair in rear-view mirrors

And the boys try to look so hard

The amusement park rises bold and stark

Kids are huddled on the beach in a mist

I wanna die with you Wendy on the street tonight

In an everlasting kiss…” Bruce Springsteen.

It is our nature to run with and from the many or the few. We often see through the curved ceiling of high doorways only when curved light enters tiny windows. Animation is symmetry without structure, save winds and rains and those foolish storms of chaos and belief.

Speculating currently concerning infrequent simple sets? Are these objects transgenic elements in the study of symmetries nearly impossible to construct, not likely to be found by chance but still necessary to the complete structure of the theory of Sporadic Simple Groups. Freedom for or from a Peoples’ will still be the imitation of an everlasting Robot. Or! We Robots be. Just you wait-and-see.

‘The most heroic word in all languages is ‘Revolution’––Eugene Debbs

“In the current phase of intellectual corruption, it must be stressed that, like democracy and human rights, the economic doctrines preached by the rulers are instruments of power, intended for others, so that they can be more efficiently robbed and exploited. No wealthy society accepts these conditions for itself, unless they happen to confer temporary advantage; and their history reveals that sharp departure from these doctrines was a large factor in development.”—Noam Chomsky.

A historian once wrote that future’s Child, ‘did not need to be told that the angel of death had passed over the land; they had heard the beating of its wings’. So! Wondering if; ‘The reason the Dead do not return nowadays, is the boredom of it.’ One fare-to-fix and one fix-to-fair. Life is precious in every form. Life animates every style-type of flesh, smooth or fur and sweet life goes—becomes and ends and becomes again…’Tis good donchaknow…

And! Beautiful you are…