Poem Without A Title by Klaus J. Gerken Canto I How foolish I was to think I had something to offer the world A world where war is more important than art And art is only important if it's worth money Besides everyone's an "artist" these days The computer makes it "easy" Soon computers will write the poetry we admire and the paintings that hang in our galleries upon or walls No skill required "I don't know much about anything But I know what I like" How foolish I was to think I could make a difference without the mighty buck backing me It's just not possible Economics dictates that everyone must make money from all activities engaged in otherwise it's dismissed as a hobby and frowned upon as a serious endeavour There is no respect left for anything except the mighty dollar Fame is how many follow you have on twitter that line your pockets with plastic garbage Be damned if you feed them rotting slop as long as they eat it and pay for it...most important that -- Give it away they don't want it Except for religion They'll ride that ass for free and then get fleeced The government's no better Where bureaucrats fund the arts and dictate what's "good enough" to be seen or read by the public Of course most of the time they're taken in by untalented "artists" who know little more than filling out forms and submitting them with impressive credentials One writes I have a diploma in business but am an artist it's the diploma that counts not the talent I was a fool to think art was a means of searching for the truth and teaching it to a welcoming world none of that exists the world doesn't welcome art it welcomes illusion and entertainment and calls it art no one cares a hoot for a painter's pallet it's great because it sold you hang it on your wall not because it teaches but it entertains you discuss it in terms that define haut couture everyone wants a van gogh but no one wants to experience the isolation and madness you read a poem because you understand it not because it challenges you and you buy a book for its cover contents are a dime a dozen "Art is the heart and soul of revolution" art is this or that each movement solidifies a purpose no one writes alone that's the greatest myth the solitary writer in his room it's a corporation a factory and was right art is a brillo box we all can relate to a drum roll on a football field calling to task the latest belly dancer in a field of horny football fans rowdy in the stands munching on their hot dog buns and guzzling beer slingers of good fortune in a TV world it looks pretty so it's good my kid could do that too what one doesn't understand looks easy the master swing took years to perfect but you only see it momentarily the toil and effort to perfect something is not a common thread the vulture does not care for aesthetics it just devours the carcass without culinary classification the world of art is too pretentious it classifies and categorizes the revolutionary aspect of the work what it brings to the viewer is it good enough to sell van gogh never thought of that he twisted his soul onto the canvas and damn the viewer a work of art is never pretty it spins and tangles and sometimes strangles from the inside superficial art is all the rage in a society of robots I was a fool to think they'd understand they say they do but haven't got a clue the pack you make with the devil to bypass the golden gate to get through hell first Michelangelo understood with his tortured back and Faustus knew the better part of restitution Flagstaff was his equal either way and Lear retaliated thunderbolts of Zeus into the blackened atmosphere bats and caves Picasso's three women on a beach one who's back is turned to the viewer defiance on the shallow side but still defiance The artist fears his death as much as anyone no one is immune to circumstance One hopes a vision might appear but visions only appear to sick at hear and grace the fool's ability to establish his own alibi The air conditioner rattles the windows like a wounded rattlesnake spitting venom at the perpetrator of a sleek deception Goggle eyes Bubble creatures flaunt the infrastructure of the body and the soul dancing wildly dervish melodies over broken glass and bloody loin cloths as the eastern horizon melts into a fractured retina giving blind men vision and blinding pretend visionaries Lovely is the dawning - meditation's conquest where the rapture disappears forever Water lilies float on serene ponds as frogs croak haiku to a cerulean sky reaching far beyond the mundane mind Somewhere out there beyond our reach Beyond the shallow comprehension and incertitude we cannot fathom The winter is our discontent The spirit wanders to and fro twisted like and ancient oak where the beginning has no future and the ending has no past We are shadows of the shadows not of light full sagacious ramblings in the hollow of the night I should have know there would be little satisfaction in bringing truth to gods They sit upon their wallets and carry disaster in their arms Lightning bolts of thunder retroactive shadow boxing with the trumpet of the past But where truth's the interaction a lie is just as good Picasso said that Art is a lie that makes you realize the truth But with the absolute truth unknowable there can never be substantiation of any truth whoever the abstraction The force of nature binds us quick It rearranges molecules to form living being in the flesh of a solitary womb Oven in the heart of things Universe of giving energy Art is like that germinating thought A great forest pasture field It lends itself to energy twisting into shape incohesion Not measuring but measuring in new dimensions hollowed ground of sacred crust The river might rage down the mountain but it settles by the time it gets to the ocean The silt is often the legacy for those who only see the delta What is left behind is not always what the life was But of course today we the obfuscation of ability Even subsidiaries play a greater part than the river Once it runs its course The merging in the ocean is a greater force than even the slowly eroding mountains There is no future without the merging into a greater ocean When one comprehends oneself one only sees the river the journey the value of what life is the essence of the advancing soul never fear but comprehend what is not understood praise the value for the common good A gentle sleep A gentle sleep 10 - 12 august 2014 Canto II Riverrun Locksmith Flow of lava that destroys but replenishes the earth Life was not possible without the lava Building block Lego Hills of garbage Excellent chateaus towns cities are built on To find civilization look for garbage The extension of art is its foundation thus for life a journey not a resurrection but a continuation star matter formed us so eventually we will form stars again The great nucleus swallows swallows matter crushes it in an elongated everlasting time continuum how ever we don't like it it is so we can approach but never get to zero There is purpose in everything otherwise the universe would not exist otherwise no thought viable we would be matter without formation thought without repatriation all envelops all our petty egos entangle the entanglement Flash flood where the watershed collapses and the cardboard boxes crumble in succession displacing without judgement nature's beauty is its existence not the artificial vanity of gods Nature does not pretend it acts and then amends the cycle of forgiving not collusion where collusion's rife with explanation Only a fool need to explain what nature has no need to Life is a flash food over Gaia's raped body she is our foundation she is our mother there is no god no other she suckles us her milk is our sustenance and sol is our existence When the morning comes we will awaken to the glory of the sun rising in the east otherwise we will awaken to the cool nurturing rain grow grow always grow whether mind or body always grown new that tends the future you will never see kjg 12 - 14 Aug 2014 Canto III I have no possibilities other than being a possibility myself kjg 13 aug 2014 Canto IIII the perfect poison is not the one that kills you neat but what grants you life in a collusion of slaughter among the blind masses with their fan mags and their hollow poetry that praises their abstract sounds more than sensibilities i am not proud of being in this world i was born here jewish mother german wermacht father more common than not in nazi germany the victors distorts history to their perspective each side has their own agendas nothing is black and white but sometimes seems to be everything is intwervoven in a giant quilt where everyone contributes growing daily we little see more than our own contribution everything else is speculation unless you were part of the construction the weaver however hold no prejudice the contributors would treat the quilt apart raging fires of the heart life is one long journey harbours are just traffic stops with clowns disguised as soldiers pretending what they cannot be somehow we give them legitimacy force begets disorder and disorder begets destruction all is intertwined halleluiah the fierce umbilical cord chokes the desperate baby in the birth canal born blue wet and quite insane one always longs for shadows when there's sun but runs somehow from rain the brain's a tight restriction howling in the subject wilderness of rabid dissolution civilization is an termite hill in north australia resurrection is a compost heap of faded dreams what purpose what purpose indeed do we ask the gods or do we ask ourselves hope might spring eternal but the pavement's no carpet and the carpet's already thread bare just watch you don't stumble the jester might tumble tumble tumble but a frozen corpse will shatter running up the down staircase don't be a fool for naught wasted spaces time wasted nothing happening in the line one third sleeping one third working and one third waiting waiting for what that's to be determined life death resurrection anyone's call come to daddy come to all doesn't matter what you decide they'll kill all indiscriminately the slaughter for the feast what are you afraid of god takes care of all eventually everyone will either be in heaven or in hell the sun can only last so long then it's gone it's gone it's gone no song lasts forever wind within a hollow tree leaves upon a soggy ground ships moored at sea to avoid the hurricane land's a battery can't retain the sensibility flight avoids truth be known sections burn once discovered there's no return one doesn't find solutions solutions are always there everywhere one needs to understand the quest the journey is the first priority we might not always like what's there when we come back a stranger in a strange land that once was home both the waiting and the journey changes people and the lotus land is always in the alley of our thought there is wildness in the wilderness and correction in the harbour of connections everything happens at once the mind just filters it into time segments to comprehend where history collects what we have been and the future is forever veiled our imaginations are the only connectivity walls are the only norm walls between people and societies chaos is the only bondage of solution would the past have us believe otherwise the present is just the illusion we are real the trough of history collect our delusions our crimes our hates our perturbations we are hollow souls upon a planet not knowing where we originate a comforting mythology quite slowly we continue to evolve backwards so it seems at times the wars the madness the religious regression into a comatose insensibility the older the book the more profound the meaning mostly because we don't understand the damned thing anyway and transpose it into a modern context it was never meant for anyway the flight of the albatross is among us our ghost ship obscured by fog and driven by the tide mould everywhere slowly coming apart from waterlogged ambitions no sails or rudder left to guide our journey what mess there is we have caused ourselves fractured in the moment of our solidarity we abide by nothing but the state of paranoia clear thinking escapes even mathematics no more gentle pastures but scorched land in the midst of what still should be a fruitful productive garden we have misguided ourselves into oblivion they are gunning for us they are coming for us they are strong upon our weakness and our greatest weakness is fear the drunkard shall soak your party dress with vomit and the drunkard doesn't fear because he's already dead the living fear the terror of situational developed they run from missiles they can easily destroy but spew their vengeance of a people they have displaced dishonoured and ravaged in the grabbing of their land all justified of course because their own expansion was as sacred trust because their god and abraham so the west continues to the quicksand they have dug themselves there is not solution but more war in the mean time the dunk buckets of ice cubes over their heads to collect funds to fight the latest fad disease government doesn't care for the survival of the individual it cares only about its own rule of law to continue the building of a global empire be it land trade or commerce oppression is the rule and always with the right of god allah or whatever on their side amen shalom amen kjg 15 - 21 aug 2014 Canto V igitur qui desiderat pacem, praeparet bellum (Publius Flavius Vegetius Renatus) where there is favour among the gods the victor will prevail iulius kaiser slaughtered millions yet today is revered as a hero figure mainly because of shakespeare the history obscured halt who goes there horatio and the witch's brew is bubbling with falstaff in the shadows laughing uncontrollably but then shakespeare's in the alley and god knows where he wants the killing done out on highway sixty one with kerouac at the gates of dawn and urizen sorta coming on life's the measure of a stick crucified and woebegone golgotha is the carrion hill with tibetan monks rolling in the swill to get a taste of mortal life they're all gods anyway or so the dalai lama says not my problem if they refuse to follow me one has to wonder if common sense is bottled by bogus doctors these days only thing mission is the carnival but sunday is word of god written on a 40 inch high definition tv screen time for reflection when the preacher screams scripture like it's going out of style can you last another mile i think i'll take a break and sleep a while one gains division in a fraction of a second without even a shred of evidence the mind just sucks up electrons and spits them like a great fart overcoming constipation like the grand finale of an angry volcano thera vesuvius mount st helen it builds up slowly in small insignificant increments hardly noticeable in the accumulation of hubris the yellow roles royce hardly has a function no class act need to finance a buyout no frills manipulating the market cut throat all the way if it's not guns they want then it's toys but not just toys the latest toy the one better than last years' version the one everyone has to have like the latest fad condom or underwear we the human species don't fool around we gotta show them were the same as anyone we can't be different that is definitely unacceptable we've become clones of big industry that tell us how to act and what to wear we consume consume consume because we are told to taught in school to conform to the masses as long as the faceless masses can be easily controlled but just try to be an individual to have your own thoughts they have you targeted as being undesirables who can't be tolerated by the mass hysterical norm in their suburban retreats and weekly office jobs waves of incertitude the stock markets crumble into blind ambition stepping on the slaves of man podiums of braggart slaughter weapons of control designed for mass murder ideology of godly killing in the midst of hope he who giveth taketh away the finally indiscretion we are living out our holy books as if presented with a script we can't turn away from we have no originality except for art and poetry everything else is scripted for the dull plain faceless robot in the crowd accepting without questing what is given what is broken what is healed out of our control they scream when they get angry enough and want to tear it down but have no new utopia to rebuild the ruins from the ash of hate no vision but the rage of crass destruction they are as lost as any leader faking it and then there comes religion evil perpetrator of the truth restricted faith is all you need we're told but faith in what kaiser napoleon hitler jesus allah they all promised paradise for those who would do the sacrifice and kill for the next life they never would achieve and then there's the usa the promised land an entity of murderers refusing to comprehend their bloody history we can do no wrong god is on our side they scream and scream and continue screaming their rage to a world in turmoil controlling everything fucking up and blaming the failure on others no one is free without their god given constitution their 1st and 2nd amendments and their hidden inequality money is the only god they worship in the name of jesus banker of their padded mental instructional garden of eden not that history gives us better examples egypt china sameria babylon israel greece rome church france england germany all the same ilk of grandiose vomit no matter how fine their artistic endeavours all in ruins to be admired without regard for their rampant cruelty to step on others enslaved to be the greatest nation un the earth the planet it a caldron of boiling blood which every day is celebrated with elaborate production in our popular culture as long as the blood and slaughter continues cauterized cleanly on the tv or movie screen we are satisfied being civilized while indulging in our meat at table giving obeisance to gods that are no different that what now we call the ancient world to distinguish our somewhat better compassion that the church we whoreship has brought to fruition through the massive justified crusades and inquisition we are hollow tubes the wind rages though when the exhaust causes song we praise our understanding if history has taught us anything it is that we are a river starting out as a stream eventually merging with the ocean if history has taught us nothing then we continue to dam the river flood the fertile lands and stop the flow to cause our own destruction we cannot claim what is not ours to claim we cannot manage what in fact should manage us not in the destruction of the natural infrastructure from which we spawned but we are hollow creatures straw creatures goggle-eyes creatures fawning like a virus across a fertile globe perhaps the horizon is our blindness we must conquer what lies beyond when what we have is not enough we are greedy yet pose as needy or as saviours to those we have displaced our generosity knows no bounds after we have reprimanded them through war it will never stop the killing will go on forever because killing the greater the destruction the greater our generosity it's a cycle we have come to rely on the victor rebuilds the defeated land to their own profitability monuments are built to worship the rebuilding and of course the victor's sacrifice first we take then we give and then collect obeisance once hope is given the master no longer needs to beat the slave into submission all's well that ends well throw the dogs a bone But the slaughter must continue there can be no peace without war as there can be no war without peace one feeds the other and the catalyst that makes it viable is little more than religion this indefinable premise built on faith rather than rational thought it cannot be taken away it cannot be argues to the one who believes life the enemy is always inhuman must be eradicated no other solution is possible since compromise exposes the lie and an exposed lie is a vulnerability that must never be compromised written into stone they fill to realize compassion should be the victor not the executioner and even Robspierre fell into the quagmire of defeat corruption will always be rife for the winged victory there is only so much integrity in a garbage can don't be fooled there are greater things than thou kjg 21 - 22 aug 2014 Canto VI midlife crisis surrounded by a dark forest strayed from the known path and lost it surrounded thick with thorns so difficult to recollect just frightened b the thought of it death itself can't be much worse but to dig into the quagmire one sees the good beyond a dark horizon how i got so lost is hard to fathom a weary mind grew tired and ever so slowly lost my way so i found myself below a hill where a gorge split the forest my heart was terrified but when i saw the curving hills against a wondrous glowing sky went forward with anticipation the fear abated and my heart was no longer paralyzed by the unknown like someone gasping fo breath who washed up on a lonely beach looking back at what might ought have been i transformed myself yet further fleeing sensibility i viewed the gorge still alive i just escaped from having rested my exhaustion i got up to tackle the upward climb steady on unsteady feet Slowly made it up the hill and came face to face with a lean and cunning leopard dressed to kill eye to eye we danced around hindering my advance and once again i lost my nerve early morning sun's aura obliterated the stars surrounding it like the dawning of the first day of creation where love supported it that's why i was not deceived by illusion in the first dawn of spring not even this beast of prey that followed me until a lion's stare confronted me fearing my decision I was scared when he approached head raised hungry even the air around trembled at his anger The a she-wolf hungry starving full of malnourished greed old devourer of human souls with a dismal stare struck my heart and senses lame and any hope i had fled exponentially like a man who still has desires after his best days of lust are over has his thoughts fade into oblivion i stood before this restless beast advancing move by move and forcing me back into the terrible darkness So disillusioned i stumbled and fell looked up there stood a man staring at me in silence as if he was profoundly alone have pity have pity i cried whoever you are ghost or mortal entity i one was but am no longer man my parents came from lombardy their home was in mantua I was born when iulius held consul lived in Rome beneath the rule of that good man augustus in the time of anti-gods as a poet i sang anchises' son the true one who came to us from Troy after proud illium was torched but why are you cowering in defeat refusing to climb that beautiful hill where creation holds such wondrous joy you're virgil then the poet who floods the world with golden soliloques i spoke it humbly with head bowed you are the honour and light of all poets let all my humble works be of service as i hold your books in reverance you are he master the creator the only one from whom the high art of word i've learned you presence honours me see that beast that follows me even in my flight i tremble at the sight of it famous wise man how am i to neutralize the threat There's anoher way he said if you really want to save yourself he spoke sibcerely and he saw me cry the the-wolf who accentuates your fear lets no one find their way in peace she stalks men then kills them She's evil malignant and greedy and will never be appeased by lust and after feeding rises even more ravenous she'll let herself be fucked by many beasts and thereafter many more until the hounds of the hunt kill disembowel her The hounds don't care for valuables but quest for knowledge love and freedom that which is born beneath their felts he will free this poor dear land of italy for which for which camilla turnus eiryalus and eisus died in battle he'll hunt the she-wolf through all cities till she's driven into hell's eternal night and the primal touch of envy sets her free again In your best interest I think it would be well to follow me I'll be your guide and take you from this place through the eternal vast chambers where you'll hear some puzzling screams and witness poor dead souls who will accost you with a second death and you'll see others there who willfully are consumed in flames hoping that sooner or later they will find a seat among the blessed if you want to press on toward this realm there could be another one to show the way to whom I would gladly leave you in my worthlessness he is the emperor who rules on high but since I will not recognize his authority he won't let me show the way to his estate he rules everybody who rules here in the godly state and there you find his throne o what joy when one is chosen for that place Now then my poet I spoke by the god that you don't know I bid you show me how to flee this evil thing and worse lead me to that place you speak about let me see the gate of holy peter and those oppressed by suffering then we made way i followed him * Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate kjg 22 - 23 aug 2014 Canto VII from a distance it is viable always from a distance preferably from a tv screen where you can't smell the stench of dying slaughter much more palatable in a sterile environment we avoid the streets of ill repute where darkness sheds a hollow tear we masturbate a hollow good and squander it for years always from a distance no hands-on without the gloves poverty is not a glossy photograph in a gallery somewhere the gutter does not lend itself to the latest designer gowns splash of perfume to augment isn't that horrendous the photographer has such a knack of making these people look so real he's such an artist down the street the addict crumbles one more swollen vein thinking of her children she will never see again explosives rain down upon the town dresden hamburg Hiroshima Nagasaki gaza civilians murdered in the name of peace fully justified the victor tells the media millions of our soldiers would have died otherwise not millions of civilians safely at home cheering on the slaughter untouched safe and sound no big deal better them than us not right few know there was POW containment camp just outside of Hiroshima totally obliterated they sacrificed their own when it was already evident surrender was inevitable a naked child runs down the street napalm burns her flesh a Pulitzer for the photographer art for all the rest then news has become out roman coliseum only in a sterile environment where we can gasp ooh and ah and have our dinner watching the carnage and slaughter children savaging for scraps of food in garbage dumps honey pass the gravy buy this steak is good can i have some more potatoes oh look at that poor boy with leprosy maybe we should give a few dollars i don't know why their government doesn't do anything it's always us who have to come to their aid can i think i'll have another glass of saint emilion before we have dessert chocolate soufflé is it that sounds delicious i think i'll open a bottle of ice wine then later we can go to the mall and look at that new iphone you wanted last years' model is so antique now what are they fighting each other for again seem like war will never end i hope those terrorist don't infiltrate our peaceful town they can kill each other all they want to but if they come here they better watch out by the way that reminds me i should check how much that semi-automatic is couldn't hurt to have another in the house never know when it could come in useful there was another murder no too far away i don't understand why there has to be so much violence maybe if the all had guns they'd see the light realize nothing gets solved by killing someone they just end up costing the taxpayer money i wish they'd think before they did something so irresponsible while we're at the mall i might check for some new designer clothes for the kids they are growing so fast these day and we have to maintain their look in school we don't want them to be outcasts i hear the joneses have a new flat screen high definition tv wall panel i think it's time we upgraded also i was thinking of inviting them over for a barbeque next weekend then you and joe can watch the game and we girls can talk about the latest fashions oh just look at those poor starving children someone should really do something about that "O voi che siete in piccioletta barca, Dido choked up with sobs for her Sicheus Lies heavy in my arms, dead weight Drowning with tears, new Eros, And the life goes on, mooning upon bare hills; Flame leaps from the hand, the rain is listless, Yet drinks the thirst from our lips, solid as echo, Passion to breed a form in shimmer of rain-blur; But Eros drowned, drowned, heavy-half dead with tears For dead Sicheus. Life to make mock of motion: For the husks, before me, move, The words rattle: shells given out by shells." (Ezra Pound - Canto VII) there is a shift of perception we can now see over the horizon without navigating the consequences drones kill indiscriminately guided from Florida thousands of miles away the "pilot" detached views the carnage on a screen safe and sound and sheltered conducting games of war like any kid after school learning nothing but to aim a weapon and blow the target to oblivion killing's so damned easy when you have the armour to support the craft otherwise just shoot before the questions can be answered after all there's only one witness "credible" witness left the other will be all slowly character assassinated "An empire is best administered by justice, an army by craft, and influence over people is gained by non-interference." (Tao-Teh-King 57) government has always been power and control democracy is no different it was never meant to work the way it's used it today the people were not represented then the aristocracy was it was an illusion to the strong handed dictatorship you create the illusion of freedom and the mob thinks it has a voice when in reality the voice goes unheard taxes increase and the powerful get stronger there is no leader who wants get to the top who isn't ruthless to those who swears to protect perhaps the best leaders are those who hide from that responsibility and once committed want to get it over with as fast as possible as long as you provide bread for the stomach and entertainment for the mind they will worship you as god a deity as superior being who ever see you cowering in the corner of your fear a well situated leader always has his make-up on Achilles might have lead well but his death was hectors retribution one does not drag the dead through disrespect victors who lord it over their conquests disrespect themselves and live in fear a good leader does not interfere with the smooth running of a well maintained machine in fact it makes him or her look good to leave it alone but a bad machine need an overhaul and a good leader listens to his advisers and weighs every consequence before acting the future is an unpredictable place and you don't want to let it fall on you as a fisherman casts a net out into the sea and gathers not just edible fish but also poison fish not always recognisable walking on water is an easy illusion when it happens in a desert drunkards do it all the time the heat of noon's a devil in disguise a path of bones even leaves the vultures dead and faustus fears the nightmare creature sitting on the corner of his bed "going my way?" he points to the dark vampire curtains blowing in a listless midnight breeze bats surround the stagnant twilight between reality and dream between thirst and saturation bread and wine and sacrifice and resurrection hope does not spring eternal there are places despair becomes the blinding flash bulb at then end the of endless tunnel despair who enter here despair indeed you can never get away from self happy is he who has a steady foot on the threshold of decay nothing ravages so much as the illusion of respectable convivial cash transaction the mob is never satisfied god is never satisfied god does not respect reason otherwise he would not have allowed the tree of knowledge tempting have we tempted adam who covered up seeing his erection sex behind closed doors was the beginning of society the one law that causes most distress to judean christian muslin sensibilities woman tempts man rapes it's been with us for 2 million years but animals court man had to learn if it were inherent in our genes we would have figured it out by now yet we make it worse and shadow box it into oblivion dark alleys and the underground sweatfest of delilah's resurrection advancement born out of crisis madness rages just beneath the surface of respectful snobbery the bride in white with child covers up her modesty the man rejoices like a hound upon the moor we cannot see but feel the wet mud that leads us to the quick wet surface of the wavy sand nothing will escape our fright rigid in the drama of the black where no stars visible the sirens sing their mad passion for the grand temptation closing in with fangs of bitterness the heart knocks cold and trembles in the undergrowth where quickness courts the hunt and game and like a lost traveller emerging from the wood alive is now confronted with a wall of hope... kjg 23 - 25 aug 2014 Canto VIII i stood before the door unopened the cat meowed and i went in the paradox is all encompassing the wine the colour red it's funny how the world appears future past and present its slow decay completes the stature of our essence and yet the path is gravel and yet i wear no shoes bleeding feet allow me to cast away the blues no advancement where the metal is not gold i offer bronze is murder really sacrifice or just a holy romp beyond the wall a castle a peace that cannot last troubadours and ladies a dream that fades too fast show me a solution fly me to the moon venus is in transit and the rivers are maroon razzmatazz and all that jazz don't we hang a man for that all the things he shouldn't say praise the status quo today everyone a wooden puppet marching on a cake of dust did antoinette that last day shiver or defiant to the last the best of days the worst of days a war with rules and honour but that was then and this is now and nothing is forever but robspierre had his ambition and marat died bathing napoleon naturally crept in and did Augustus's bidding the states refused to listen made their own religion everyone should be as free as the government permits them freedom is a sanctioned awning keeps out rain but also sun death then to the HRE russia's on the run really then who learns from history not politicians or dictators i recall it's an endless tightening noose around your neck don't fall the first time round you tremble ask the why of endless speculation next time round seen it all before third time round yawn indignation what is time but not advancement what is truth but not enhancement what is glory under heaven what is blood baked in the oven what is dancing if not stomping on the rats that bring the black death where the humour cuts the screaming even nursery rhymes have meaning far into the murky distance where what isn't always is thus we gather knowledge reason of the realms we can't resist gods and angels freely roving leprechauns and beastly things landscapes that we fear exploring none can tell us what to think from alchemy to torture chambers ah the inquisition rules the popes are vile and in a tizzy sell indulgences to fools but the crusades are a social wonder marvel at the chaos wrought waves upon domestic squabbles focused into war for god first the children perished slaughtered sold to slavery as if it was so premeditated to gain hatred by the lot for the second wave Jerusalem was bought by the blood of those delivered freely flowing in the streets everyone who lived there slaughtered even though they lived in peace christian jew and even muslim held the holy city sacred had no issues with each other respect was never once debated until the european christians came with sword and bloodlust in their eyes god had already forgiven any sin so the sword they used to spit their lies from that moment hate was rampant a war that lasts still today begun today we see that hate in ISIS we see ourselves what we have done the inhumanity is so repugnant we cover in front of tv screen and let our anger flow with venom forgetting we have caused the scene with no one talking to each other all desire bent on annihilation we fall into the trap we set all those many years ago without regret but the lines are drawn the war is come history ignored no lessons learned the west is shaking in its cowboy boots heroes to the last sojourn but we get too far ahead our narrative has hardly yet begun the gate is open wander in close it to the setting sun kjg 25 - 26 aug 2014 Canto IX Religion in a nutshell: Egyptian: You can take it with you. Hinduism: Bathe in a polluted river and you will be reborn to bathe in a polluted river. Buddhism: Everything in life is suffering unless you sit under a bodhi tree and obliterate all thought. Judaism: The bigger the blood sacrifice the more god loves you. Greek: If the gods love you everything goes. Roman: Always sacrifice yourself for your country. Damn the gods. We stole those, like everything else, from the Greeks. Christianity: God died on a cross so our sins could be forgiven no matter how horrendous as long as we accept Jesus as our savior. Heaven is just a bunny hop away. Islam: Pray 5 times a day and you'll never have time to do anything else. Keep your women under wrap and let the men take care of everything. American: Praise the 1st and 2nd amendment. We can fleece the flock! kjg 27 aug 2014 X the great progenitor is fear fear of the unknown we use it well "how was heaven and earth aroused and who was terror-stricken" (tien wen) adam followed have out of eden the lotus eaters woken up who's the swine that tends the stall a wake-up call is needed not that it will ever be heeded from "you say you want a revolution" to "street fighting man" all from love that couldn't last one fine summer no one worried about the consequences then the gate slammed shut one holds the apple in one's hand and wonders if the worm is healthier "you have butcher'd one king, despos'd another king, and made a mock king of a third; and yet you cou'd have the face to expect to be employ'd and trusted by the fourth" (Daniel Defoe) one always needs the case in point reason sorely lacking if we are tempted what goes on your right or society's deferment the fields are dark with a dust of crows the loneliness is heaving you walk the empty streets alone the footsteps echo your hearts' grieving "oh, but it is high and very dangerous! such traveling is harder than scaling the blue sky..." (Li Po) a frenzied revolution firestorms of lotus dust a war cannot be ratified as peace can be forsaken long lines and mockingbirds carved in arid desert the sky gods have to be appeased as david slew goliath there we have the lineage the messiah crown his glory weather tossed and full of woe ulysses slaughters his wife's suitors the call to arms is often justified by one or another prophet as they say the heavier the rain the heavier the drought one plants for posterity war just digs up the ground it's a silent revolution underground that's more dangerous than what an army mounts "what noise is this? - what villain dares, at this dread hour. with feet and voice profane disturb our royal walls?" (Henry Fielding) but once disturbed there can be no refit to rest upon the mound of ancient artefacts we build upon the refuse of the past our sole foundation is trash our legacy is trash our future will be trash no matter how noble our intentions we are a trash animal pretending to be more thus this god we worship have worshipped will worship with the sword of love and the dove of death "et tu brute" rather the exception is the norm a kiss a kiss a kiss we cannot recognise the god but the man and the resurrected king is born nemi lake yearly ritual one cannot forget where that came from there is nothing that stands in a vacuum not even religion or the god tet-f: i-xer-ten t at at amu re-stau an-na-ten ausar "he spoke: i have come to you divine guardians of re-stau I have brought you osiris" (Egyptian Book of the Dead) in the beginning was neither light nor darkness everything was one cohesive smorgasbord then the first god fried the vittles and there was light and shadow and the shadow couldn't exist without the light so the first god created many suns to maintain the light and the shadow needed a place to rest so the first god created earth but the fire grew too hot and became a danger so the first god created water thus the earth was born there were many upheavals before the seed of life took hold what nurtured us then will kill us now the nature of a being is to surmount the past nothing remains static only the original particles will last ever to recycle into something else constant flux constant evolution renewal that's the process we try but cannot understand even the first god never existed i created the first god to explain a beginning that cannot ever be explained this is the beginning of philosophy not religion is awe and wonder philosophy is pondering and asking question then came fear fear of gods fear of authority fear of transgressing boundaries set by rulers or priests first came the strongest male to control the tribe but the lineage was always female before the christian ethic forced the issue to the ground the new testament made clear its true intentions when both the lines were drawn from the maternal and paternal solidifying forever the great divide the ancient and modern making woman subservient to god thus male forever and forever while worshipping the mother goddess mary/nut progenitor of god therefore the eternal loop the serpent thus devours itself "Being one, it must fail to possess a body.But if it had bulk it could have parts and would no longer be one." (Melissus (Trnsl. Betty Radice) so the serpent devours itself but can it devour all must there not be something left before the fall i keep asking myself before adam and hava were exiled from the garden how much shit they left behind i mean purity is one thing but the non-digested food stuff's gotta exit somewhere but it's all good i know god would never allow polluted shit "beans are spirits trying to exit the body. Therefore bean-consumption is taboo." (Pythagoras of Samos) where there beans in the garden or were they only cultivated after the exile we know that god preferred blood sacrifices so i'm sure he wasn't too fond of the stuff but who knows maybe cain killed abel and farted a lot but there were towns to got to towns not under god's protection the twist of everything belongs in the eye of the scholar not often right but sometimes wrong it's all in the presentation don't take nuttin' for granted all about the journey anyway the end is no solution if i have to got to hell the first circle will do quite well om kjg 27-28 aug 2014 Canto XI "the thunderbolt steers all things" (Heraklitus) divine intervention seems rife in the good old days today not so often if at all charlatans abound kinda like they fleece the flock at every turn government sanctioned glory be to tax deduction delivered on a platter fuck the poor they're advertising fodder as long as i get my mansion i'll tell you any lie you want send your tax deductible donation to box number so and so i can't be traced make my broadcast from a cave somewhere near a bunker you can't access i've got the money you've got the plastic spend spend spend if my nutcase product happens to be jesus it's only slightly off the precedent ethics should adhere to besides religion can't be countered god loves everyone he slaughters sad reflection of the meaning follow me and there will be no cleansing god's the only insurance company that can't be audited i think hell must be a crowded place heaven must be lonely angels singing devil blues longing for attrition did you know the church still sells indulgences just got to have the money the eye of the needle doesn't count any longer the rich just manufacture a bigger eye the devil's been bought a long time ago i hear that god might join the party i wouldn't mind the rum if hot give those their due who suffer not let those who starve acknowledge their appeal to the their swill one uses what they offer poverty to solicit tears and funds for more religious coffers no one likes to hear these thing and i don't like to write them but truth is truth and i won't lie i was brought up to ask question who answers i will with respect debate who doesn't hardly matters is one religion better than another i won't presume to make a guess they kill each other anyway i believe in the fundamental human good that humankind can function without any want to a divine being only then will society achieve it's true potential * In the beginning: Pyramid Texts of Unas Sarcophagus Chamber South Wall (west to east) O Unas, you have not died, but ascended to the throne of Osiris. You hold the sceptre of authority over the living, the lotus handle is in your hand. You give orders to those living where the dead live! Your name is Atum's, your shoulders are Atum's, you belly is Atum's, your back is Atum's, your bum is Atum's, your two legs are Atum's, you have the face of Anubis. The servants of Horus serve you, the servants of Seth serve you. ... O Unas, avoid the Lake! avoid the Lake! avoid the Lake! avoid the Lake! The proclaimer of your ka stand before you, the proclaimer of your father stand before you, the proclaimer of Re stand before you. Follow the sun! Purify yourself. Your bones are those of hens, those goddesses in heaven, so you may sit at the side of god and leave your empire to your son, your heir. Those who speak evil of Unas, when you ascend, is cursed in his own city, and will flee and fail. Purify yourself with the cold water of the stars, climb down ropes of brass, in the arms of Horus, (Henu ferryman). Humanity weeps for you after the eternal stars have taken you. Enter your father's place, where Geb resides! He presents you with what's on Horus' brow, so you will be powerful and glorious, so you become (Western hearth tender). ... O Unas! Your messengers depart, your heralds rush to your father, Amun. "Let him ascend to you, Atum, embrace him with your arms! No god has ever become a star without a companion!" "Will you accept me as your companion?" "Behold me! you have seen the bodies of the children's fathers, who know the incantations and have become eternal stars." Behold the two who reside in the palace, Horus and Seth! Spit in the face of Horus and cure his injury! Grab the testacies of Seth and heal his mutilation! The former is your birth, the latter your conception. Your birthname, o Horus, is (Earthquake); (your birth name, Seth, is (Skyquake). The one is not mutilated, the one has no wound, the one has no wound, the one is not mutilated, so you are not wounded and have not been mutilated! Your birth is for Osiris. o Horus! You have become more resplendent than he, You have become more powerful than he. There is no sperm from a dead god, neither from those who are his. You will not die if you belong to him. Re-Atum does not present you to Osiris, nor weigh your heart, he cannot rule your soul (breast). Re-Atum does not present you to Osiris, he cannot rule your soul (breast). Osiris, you cannot rule him, your son cannot rule him, you cannot rule him, your father cannot rule him. You belong, (o you) to this god the Twins of Atum proclaim: "Rise!", they proclaim, "in God's name", so you become Atum for every god. Your head is Horus of the Duat, O eternal one, your brow is the (two eyed one), O eternal One, your ears the Twins of Atum, O Eternal One, your eyes are the Twins of Atum, O Eternal one, your nose is a jackal, O Eternal one, your teeth are Sopdu, O Eternal one, your arms are Hapy and Duamutef, who help you ascend to heaven, and as you ascend, your legs are Imsti and Qebehsenuf, who help you descend to lower heaven, and you will descend. Your testacles are the twins of Atum, o Eternal One! You did not perish, your ka did not parish. You are the ka! ... I have approached you, Nephtys. I have approached you of the Evening Barge. I have approached you (Red truth), I have approached you, (kas remembered). Remember him, Unas! Orion is embraced by the Duat, when the (Horizon dweller) purifies himself. Sothis is embraced by the Duat, when the (Horizon dweller) purifies himself. Thus Unas is embraced by the Duat, when the (Horizon dweller) purifies himself. They satisfy him, they will refresh him, in the arms of his father, Atum's arms. * the protogenesis what hinges on the resurrection from the first and king dies another opens mouth receives the breath become the new king spring regeneration lotus blossom lotus universe curved time/space the snake that swallows its own tail can it really consume itself and if it does what happens to the shit what consumes it what regenerates of is it gone forever "life is long here, and there is no death, what is the end of longevity" (Tia Wen -- trnsl. Stephen Field) where the absurd vanishes the truth cannot be found it is without reason one understands the beginning and the end the alpha and the omega are one together fate is just a tool of understanding hand me a towel i must weep the murder of destruction what one was is not there what is now was long ago an illusion of the deed is found "no one who ever reaps their fruit empty phenomena are there thus the world rolls on no god no brahma can be found no maker of this wheel of life empty phenomena are there depends upon conditions all" (Summary of Buddha's Dharma) oblivion what was there before you were born what is there after you die before you were born there was no heaven dying you invent it you wish others in hell but not yourself your sins can be forgiven others are not so fortunate halleluiah to the devil god's loyal drinking companion flagstaff farts a laughter to the stars everything is beautiful cry me a river to some god wears make-up to other he hordes ammo to replenish hate love is not an option where the chosen congregate "it is indifferent to me whence i begin for there again i shall return" (Parmeides) but they don't know that nor do they believe they could be no more than just another creature on a random planet around a random star in a random galaxy in a random universe too intense to comprehend war is easier one thought fits the many eliminate everyone else god is such a pretty institution he don't talk back ain't that a laugh and everyone's a substitution even though they are a hack take that alack! stop grinning yoric your teeth will rot and that skull of yours won't impress a nut so the good old revolution made everyone a mark where chaos rules the landscape liberty is often a false alarm "i lost my shield whoever has it must be dead" (Archilochos) there's beauty in the sleep even after war there is nothing in survival not for those who fought fodder for the cannon poison for the heart you see it all comes down to this when the wine is sour you pour it away so many forget that "We ply the memory, we load the brain, Blind rebel wit, and double chain on chain" (Alexander Pope) and rot in hell if heaven's full seeing what the wolf dragged in it's time for placid amusement and of course a sin let the games begin... kjg 28 - 29 aug 2014 XII life is the great conclusion ultimate endeavour the fruit the serpent offered the mirror observed the alpha and omega the standing apart and the falling together life is a correctional institution you never emerge from becuase you return to the beginning never knowing the end life is dancing with a feather as a rock absorbs water a feather floats upon the aether in a vacuum both are equal one should never gather conclusions where gravity rules unchallenged hopefully the lagrangian point gives us greater balance kjg 29 aug 2014 Finis Published by Ygdrasil Press Copyright 2014 Klaus J. Gerken