|Generations.Page 11 of 32 (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32)|
|new threads for the future. I am sitting on a beach in El Salvador|
Were the people haveheld fast as wave after wave of conquerors emege
to blend their liniage
into the tapestry
of ancient mayan ruins.
The end of the trail
pushed south till the culture split in two
and continued on into the future.
Walmart is moving in,
a new sweatshop reality
emerges from the poverty
of lost hope.
Tourists come with their money
and inject it
where 5 dollars a day
is a good job.
White teeth smile
and women haul the water on their heads
in the coloured vessels that document their history.
Armed guards smile Hola
and let us pass in peace.
Posted: 4/6/2007 2:05:11 PM
|As you sit on your beach so far away|
from all of us who remain in the blanket of snow
Take time to dream and feel peace inside
letting history envelope you with it's meaning
let it purify your senses and lead you on
a journey to discovery
time to let go and be
in tune with the beauty inside
and you do fly with that magical spirit of yours
drawing us in to the warmth
a smile which shines through eyes who know
the meaning of friendship
and kinship to the earth and her children.
Posted: 4/6/2007 5:24:26 PM
|Bless you autumn! Am Off Duty. Swim in the water, play with the trees, sit in the sun, Tomorow I have a "chocolate massage" an old Mayan healing art, I am curious about. Love the people here.Love the gravity too.|
Posted: 4/6/2007 5:37:50 PM
|A chocolate massage is truly an easter treat LOL|
Posted: 4/7/2007 2:38:28 AM
|I've got "Nuttin" to do tomorrow.|
Any body Wanna smear me with chocolate sludge ?
Posted: 4/7/2007 1:02:21 PM
|I believe the keester bunny doesnt come till tomorrow eye guy|
Posted: 4/7/2007 4:08:17 PM
|Update on the chocolate massage. I am so relaxed I may melt like chocolate in the El Salvadorian sun. |
woven in tapestries of Conquestadors
my body is clay in her skilled hands
rubbed in sugar
coated in smooth chocolate
she leaves me to bake
wafting through the cabana
where I lay
smells of salt and chocolate
my soul is soaking in this bliss
my body drinks nourishing every cell
with ancient mayan traditionnectar of the gods
practiced on my oh so willing being.
I am in paradise
Posted: 4/10/2007 6:43:58 PM
|I think this belongs here Ravin|
As I sit here I think of my udder mother, we all know her well
She supplies the bounty we consume daily, without credit or thanks, on average
Breasts heavy and sagging, she struggles to maintain life
So many unaware of the pain she endures for her suckling children
Mother it is time to wean and toilet train your babies
Teach them to be self reliant and teach them to respect thier enviroment
So many treat this planet like a diaper.....someone elses problem
Its time for all of us to start paying attention
Posted: 4/16/2007 10:35:20 PM
|Thanks Eagle. You are so wise.|
Today something very bad happened. Again.
What, can we possibly hold
When holding all possibilities
The heartbreak of the Mothers
“I regret to inform you Mam…”
Stunned in shock waves of CNN
“Caught on this Mans cell phone
the sound of 27 shots,,,”
How can we begin again.
“Police were called in….”.
How can we ever trust,
There is no reasoning,
No reckoning with hollowness.
We are powerless
In it’s ice.
“Gunman later went to a different building where he…..”
There is noting nice
In the smell of fear.
I kneel in prayer
Before the candles of their pain
I pray for the families and friends.
I pray for us all.
|Brought from 1st line|
Posted: 4/16/2007 10:36:25 PM
Because we haven’t really looked at who taught him to love
Some absent God from above?
Brought down with white dove
Reaching her greenery to the sky?
Drain it for all it’s misery
And the history of it’s Glory.
Most of it
And the Host of it
The heavenly host sits by
And watches napalm explode.
They have a code
Of non interference
To which they pay strict adherence
If it suits them.
But not in Hussains case
Did you see his face
When they hung him?
That was dumb of him
To want Kiwait
Where women are bartered between brothers
No rights of their own
Edit his love
It’s hers that stood through it
Aware too much of his heading
The beheading of her nephew told her
If he could only hold her
From up high.
Zeus always found a way
But not for Hera.
That’s another story
But much the same
Since Eden’s fall
Edit his Love
What kind of Father would expect his son to do that?
Nailed to a cross?
And let his Mother watch the coins toss
As they barter for his things.
Are always sacrificed
In the old days
Demand for blood.
Of The sins of the Fathers.
Ah the dysfunction in our society goes back a long, long way
|Brought from 1st line|
Posted: 4/18/2007 9:42:54 PM
And love is but a word that causes confliction
in a world that's rife with contradiction
we espouse charity to those in need
in reality society rewards for greed
television pays big bucks for betrayal
while we callously watch the portrayal
this heartless world causes minds to crack
souls flutter empty from moral ransack
Posted: 4/18/2007 10:07:53 PM
|Hey Brizo, up late? |
Sure seems heartless sometimes dosn't it?
There are days when I have very little hope.
But We have to keep going don't we?
The future is counting on us to be there, and to make it nice.
Posted: 4/18/2007 10:20:54 PM
|I'm a horrible insomniac, Ravin...... I'm so used to third shift I find it hard to sleep at night.....I worry so much about the world I'm leaving to my kids and grandkids....not just nature, but there seems to be something wrong with people, as well..........there are record amounts of allergies, asthma, cancers, autism, and different forms of mental abnormalities.......|
Posted: 4/19/2007 10:10:04 AM
|Some times the facts as they emerge|
illuminate the other's pain
this lone gunman
a mere child
or did he even have a childhood?
how loud do these wounded children have to shout
before the world will begin
to comprehend the pain
that is inflicted
Yes, this is a horror
what is even more horrifying
is that we inevitably demonize the original victims
instead of examining
what would drive a person
to commit something like this?
I want more light on the truth here
of the devastation wrought
upon a human soul
when the door is closed
and no one is watching
No more of this bullshit
Oh, they won't remember
they're too young to talk about it
it didn't hurt me when I was a kid
this hurts me more than it hurts you
or the even more shameful
those incidents where no words are even exchanged
just bodily fluids and a threat...
Expect to see more of the same
storms like that of our Mother
and we sit, stunned in the aftermath
|Soul flutters conscience stutters|
Posted: 4/19/2007 10:31:15 AM
a stash of banality
mourn the living
its hard to imagine
you cannot defend
hand in hand
too many people
too many needs
too high a steeple
too high the greed
watching news stories
make famous the scum
floating on top of every one
why them and not me
why the rapes occurring freely
across the land, lakes and trees
all five continents and seven seas
just like a virus humans disrupt
natural orders and timings
all good intentions seem to corrupt
mother’s coats as well as the linings
|Soul flutters conscience stutters|
Posted: 4/19/2007 9:17:52 PM
|Wow you guys. Ya it's pain. It is like the earth is releasing it all up through humanity, and we must face our choices, our disconnect from each other. How someone ends up percieveing themselves as isolated, as not part of the whole, how this disconnect happens has many tales. A wise old friend says that our culture here has the worst diet ever , and the worst diseases because of that. we cannot live in poison and not be effected. We have to heal the whole structure, physical, mental, emotional and spiritual. This is our society, we created it, we can heal it, one person at a time, starting with ourself. Mammas counting on us, and the very fact that we exist here, says she still believes in us. I'm gonna trust her on that.|
|Soul flutters conscience utters promises|
Posted: 5/3/2007 9:10:15 PM
|Her heart, |
Her heart bled for them all
And yet, she could not reach them
Or help them understand
Anything beyond their fear
Acts of will power kept her hoping
All the while coping
With the destruction
They would inevitably leave
And still she’d believe
In them, giving them
All acts of deepening were met with resistance
That ancient dance
Of false bravado
Wings off of fly’s, they were still being born
And far too many stillborn
Had the hearts of the ancients
They see one dimensional
Seeking the power and the glory
To cover up the inadequacy
To hide their story
From the beginning of time
She is patient
Even in her grief
As heart is ripped out again and again
Love to hatred in a struggle of shame
In the court of Humanity
Sometimes amazed her
Their density almost crazed her
And their obstinace
And choice of circumstance
The cursing, the fighting, the horror and pain
Is excruciating, as it begins again, and again
But she is too patient
She waits with sweet Breath held
Soft whisperings meld
With the moonlight
Urging them to remember how
Even just take the time to
In each sunset
And sunrise ever seen.
And remember it’s all a dream
Brought to this place
This last hurrah race
To the finished line
Needed was the whole time line
So they could rewrite the script
Some were ready, some were equipped
They’d been evolving for thousands of centuries after all
They were martyred, some, or put behind a wall
Yet undaunted returning
In time for the burning
Teardrops in memory served
As the only marker of those times
Cannot convey the pain
Of the betrayal Judas spoke
In her name.
Still she awaits
In her loving.
|Soul flutters conscience utters promises|
Posted: 5/7/2007 4:07:13 AM
Gleeful in hatred
All the words in all languages
Meaning; I don’t like this
I told my son
Do I really need an eraser?
That is battery operated
I know its fun
But my mind
Can’t handle the pun
Are buried before
They even know what
A plain white eraser is
My sweet joy forgive me
I know you were given this prize
For the angel you are
Passing your gift to me
.I know, mama.
...we both cry...
.......I'll try harder not to be your devil, my son.......
Rest in peace the human who founded the battery eraser
Lining a silk coffin whilst listening eternally
To children’s starving tears
NB … dear teacher
of my youngest child
when he writes a nasty note to a classmate
please let him use this new tool
to write pise off correctly
Posted: 5/8/2007 7:24:44 PM
|Ohhh. Always, Being a Momma bear is not easy is it? |
I wished a curse on someone last week, as I held my 20 year old on my lap, crying her heart out, because she had to see an old bad memory in person. I wished a curse. And I know better. Momma bears are not to be messed with.
Trying to squeeze in poets, and their trees. I need to stand in a forrest of them. Just to get enough air sometimes. So I want to have all of you here in the second week of august. We'll webcam for you down unders.
Today, I sat watching the sun set,
up high on my hill
and spoke prayers of gratitude.
That I get to live in paradise,
On such a beautiful spring day
and have it off too!
So some poems came out of it,
this is one of them. I left it for you first Always,
'cause I knew you'l understand my feeling.
This wind, it caresses
Escapes the western sun,
Wraps me in it's warm embrace
And whispers “Love’s not done”.
Play across green field,
I see into forever
And feel my spirit yield.
Seduction in the springtime
Promises of bliss,
Made into forever
And sealed with loves first kiss.
I hear a raven calling
As owl once called your name,
The trees they do remember
They’ve waited all the same.
Beltane rites are taken
Stone circle on the hill,
Creating deeds and destinies
Through thine own sweet will.
Posted: 5/8/2007 7:53:01 PM
as far as the drummin/fluting/poeting weekend, I think that is a wonderful idea and I think it is time for all to put thier energy together in celebration for the blessings we are gifted with in our lives...........count me in
Posted: 5/8/2007 9:17:35 PM
|I live in paradise. |
There are fields of green
Soft tent spots too.
There are trees and ponds
And poetry time
Flowing like majik in
Rhythm and rhyme.
Drummers will come from all over
The flutes will come with their makers
Poetry will flow
With guitar and banjo
And a fiddle will dance for all takers.
Sounds of good times to be having
Sharing a line on a beat
Poetic involvement enlightens
When poets and drummers so meet
Posted: 5/10/2007 6:53:53 PM
|The people of the sundance.|
Whispering grasses and buffalo run
Endless sky and distant sun
Moccasin makers so softly they tread
While the ghosts of the ancestors are honoured and fed
He dreamed of his daring, dreamed of this day
First morning sweatlodge, helped him to pray
He had courage to face the weakness and pain
And drag the medicine home again.
Eagle she whistles the bundles awake
Holds her position and prays for his sake.
Three days he circled, three days he tore
And his sweat and his blood opened the door
The vision was brought him as the breath whistle blew
The vision that told him all that he knew
The gates they are open, the veils surface thin
At times he did not know which world he was in
And still she blew and she danced on her feet
Accepting no water and no food to eat
She held his composure and she held his will
She prayed for his victory and stayed there until
The last man had broken from the lines that held fast
And shuttered the gateways that emptied at last.
Then she fed him some water from her own gourd
After to the earth her offering poured.
And with her knowledge tended his lacerations
As together they prayed for all people all nations
For unless they could learn from the oldest of ways
He knew he had seen the end of the days.
Posted: 5/10/2007 6:56:33 PM
Like the mustang that still ride the land
Call it their own.
Each year new ones roam
And join the wild ones.
They just let them go.
The Stoney know
Winds are heeded
Paid attention to.
Blows on prairie dust
That they haven’t smelled before.
They know the score.
Like the buffalo herds that are growing
How we two leggeds help fulfill prophesies
By taking care of business
They’ve seen the pain
Of a young man a week
Back when Youth had begun
The dark ones show
And wait to prey on misery.
But the Stoney know.
Like the buffalo they endure
A century is a mere
That suits the bones left lying on the land.
The Stoney do.
Posted: 5/10/2007 8:19:28 PM
|Bringing this one over, inspired by brilliant shadowqueen, on missing Lyrics thread.|
Life’s become a tilt a whirl
The carnival has begun
So fasten up you life support
I hope you’re having fun
Three for a looney
Double just the same
If you’re lookin; to get lucky
It’s the only game
Line up all those duckys
Aim within your sites
You could win a cupie doll
To keep you warm at nights
Riding in from one horse
Set up in the night
It’s the only way to freely play
And take care of ancient rite.
Cross my palm with silver
Cross my heart with gold
Rubys for the underside
If you be but bold.
I’ll tell you a good fortune
As luck will come your way
Welcome to the carnival
The only game to play.
32 (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32)