Best Senates Poems
Sad to say,
it appears some days
the colors fade.
The bold and brave
red, white and blue caves
to lives given over to a multitude of graves.
The allegiance dies
while the inner heart cries
to question what is, what was our prize.
The political arena fails at every turn
while the constitution flames and burns
and Washington never seems to change or learn.
The people were once the voice
smothered by president and senates egotistic choice
as arresting of protester fail to alter the course.
An unsettling time rises once again
of disenchantment and contempt constrained
without resolve, message unheard though clear and plain.
Let the colors be bright and glow
deep blue with fifty white stars in rows
red and white wrapped in the democratic flow.
Then came first light, the heavens begun
Inter stellar policemen patrolled the sun
Beseeching universal conformity
Harmonious peace treaties, uniformity
Paranormal delegates of astrology
Astronomical fusion, mythology
Breaching distant galactic borders
To restore misconceptions of order
Cosmopolitan senates hold candles
Of cosmic folklores and vandals
Here confined we are assigned duties
Designed to marvel at Venus’ beauty
Is the star called earth just as bright?
As the goddess’ reflection each starry night
Do we simply pale in comparison
Do we sour the face of oblivion?
Do they mourn for stars falling from skies?
Or wish for contentment at others demise
Do they value each yearning sensation?
Do they too dream of space exploration?
Do all beings look across galaxies?
Is over stepping boundaries a felony
Does everyone wish to learn more?
Is invasion considered an act of war?
Are they prepared to meet, do they have a speech
Like: “We mean you no harm. We come in peace”
Will I know their handshake before my doom?
Does Armageddon for everyone loom?
Will we be erased like solar eclipse?
Will our light be turned off from alien abyss?
Will knowing too little forever haunt
Till apocalypse comes and meteors daunt
In my safe and healthy climate home
we find
our most effective way
to defensively avoid ballistic violence
in words and aggressive actions
is to begin and end each potential vampiratic day
with cooperative love
for restoring this HereNow SpaceTime
co-redeeming peaceful justice,
gratitude,
positivenergy attitude
active hope to find WinWin opportunities
as stronger faith in tomorrow
composed positively regathering
our LoseLose risks of yesterday
suboptimally WinFewer/LoseEverMore.
Our home-based best in-between
BothLeft/AndRight
EgoYang with EcoYin
defense against toxic mutual co-investment in future LossRisks
are these dawn through dusk daily WinWin
mutually non-violent offensives--
cooperatively reiterative co-articulations
of loving and wondrous and awesome GoodNews wins
and frustrating anti-ecotherapeutic ego-losses.
Perhaps senates and houses,
parliaments and CEOs,
governments and corporations,
incarnations and reincarnations,
might amend our multilateral green rules,
as climate necessary to restore healthy justice,
in this same secular and sacred
liturgically health-seasoned way
of mutually cooperative ecopolitical gratitude.
Morning and evening lights and darks re-visited
as mutually competing predators
for co-investing healthy-wealth,
Dawn and Dusk WinWin
positivenergy democratic health-extension options
massages and hugs
backrubs and footrubs
extending family communion stories
within Sacred EarthTribe's bilateral ecobalancing hands
and dancing revolutionary feet
remembering restoring rhythmed rituals
circling ancient fire-circle batons
of matriarchal-patriarchal wand holders
speaking through smiles
retelling healthy cooperative Ego/EcoWisdom.
EarthTribe humane-divine membership
is only Integrity
of each HereNow ZeroZone
Positive with notnot NegativEnergy
ParadisePotential.
From Topeca County
To Maryland and back
Thurgood spoke to the little flock
"I've opened door and country,
Now children, in the struggle don't look back
O children, don't you look back."
Man made laws defended their immoral cause
But the Spirit of God is not blind
Education's sun the cold chill now thaws
We'll show you have an eqaul but better mind
From this struggle, children, don't look back
O children, don't you look back
Rise up, Phoenix, now take your place
Wing the senates, the schools and courts
O shine the bright lamps of your face
To plough the darkness, seed beyond sports
Carry the struggle, and don't look back
O children, don't you look back
Then Thurgood went to sleep, God rest him
Press the strugglr for your children and for love of him.
My old lady dropped a needle
From the cloth she was sewing
A fart of zaracatan or tailor's fart buzzed
That, in the silence of the afternoon
Made me flee quickly from the sewing room.
The news from an old radio, Iberia brand
That my old man listened to very attentively
Made me stop in the dining room
Because it announced that because of fashion
Because of use and with dead dictator teachers
They want to implant sacred fascism
As if this were something new
Because since time immemorial
It appears in congresses and senates
And in all the processions of the temples.
-Old man, I said to him. The feast of sacred fascism
And sacred communism
Is the feast of the innocent peoples murdered.
All their governments
Are governments that allow crimes and deaths
Chairs allow.
He reprimanded me saying:
-Don't talk nonsense, scoundrel.
The universal history of human understanding
It proves it well:
That the unbelievers, morons and deluded
Dictators and serial killers
Have great appreciation.
I left home. And, in the street I stumbled
With a man who, by his appearance
Seemed to be taken from a winter's tale
Perhaps from the G. Adolfo Bécquer’s “Miserere”
Who, when spitting towards the sky
Almost the spit fell on my head
From this idiot.
He spoke to me, and said to me asking:
-What do you think about the fact that from America
We get a sacred fascist Donkey
Whoreman and multimillionaire?
I answered him sarcastically:
-It's not a donkey, it's an old bulldog
A waterman who takes fountain pens
And colored and black pencils
Who has made a cologne
With the smell of donkey sperm
That if you put it in your hair
Will give you the glow, fire, flame
Of his carrot head.
-Apparently, he answered me
They have made it to their taste and whim
A vihuela or guitar
Supposed machine for making money
For the use of criminals
Well, he wants to imitate the Argentine lighter
Who, with his chainsaw
Wants to saw the hole that fits
Between the legs of men
Especially women
Who follow him and adore him.