We spent the summer of '99 waiting for the sky to break.
The old seer had promised us a king—
not of crowns or gold, but of sheer terror,
dropping from the heavy heat of July.
People pulled what they needed from the ink.
Some swore it was the third beast waking up,
a fundamentalist storm ready to swallow the map,
while others just saw the familiar rot of politics
finally bursting into a global fire.
Either way, the dread sold a lot of paperbacks.
The prophecy became a ghost in the movie theaters,
a blockbuster specter we could safely watch
while pretending the end of the world was just entertainment.
The world didn't end, but the earth keeps shaking.
With every new war on the evening news,
every disaster that leaves a city in the dark,
somebody always dusts off the quatrains again.
We tell ourselves it's just a myth,
until the horizon bruises,
and we catch ourselves looking up.
…religion, and oh boy…
The trouble with religion, and boy do I know it, is that getting too close to the dogma is like basking in the sun. It feels good, and self righteousness is the opiate of fundamentalist cults. Round and round the merry-go-round, discussions turning into arguments that either begin or end with "God said so." “God said it, and I believe it.” Or, with cult MAGA "Trump said it, so I know I'm right.” It numbs one to reality. Rationalization may last hours, but it always ends this way.
But, like exposure to the sun, you may get cancer, the cancer of reason gone wild. No longer anchored in known facts, but on an ever expanding blockage of the truth behind the tumor of dogmatic cultism.
See, it took years to heal my mind. I felt that I was guilty somehow of leaving the herd, of even thinking that this was all a grift dressed up in Bible verses. Now, I know what I truly believe and that is that I know nothing.
Death smiles at me in my nightmares.
I'll end up in hell like all those daring spirits.
Every time I pass a cemetery, I curse Lucifer.
One more day on this generous planet for the dark souls.
A hard-drug cure to silence those ill-omened angels.
I'm always in a bad mood without the sweetness of those bundles of green bills.
My sense of joy is monetary.
I wield the weapons of war like a soldier trapped in the bowels of a banana republic.
Hating myself is a suicidal project.
I address the angel of death from the African slums.
I break their laws; I'm not in a republican mood.
My logic is a Saharan burst of gunfire.
Descendant of guerrillas of Sahelian culture.
I'm allergic to Françafrique when I hear the self-pitying ramblings of the Republic.
My lights come from the openings of the homeland of those fanatic slave-traders.
I am a fundamentalist Catholic who recites Quranic verses like an alcoholic.
I hate failure and I adore easy money from illicit drug trade.
I prefer darkness, like the Western predators who rob Africa.
Affirmations insistent,
in truth make us resistant,
because love employs no force,
so why then cry ourselves hoarse?
Our heart, not mind, does capture,
thunder of bliss borne rapture.
To perform a true soul scan,
do we need a middleman?
the eristic fundamentalist
strives to impose his view
oblivious to the stark truth
that pulsates beyond mind
aglow in cave of his heart
false is imagined knowing
what matters is becoming
the flame
11-June-2023
“God is love and love is God, say all religions
Yet strangely diverse cultures fuel separation
Religion boon now bane, is this contemplation”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
View,
narrow
prejudice,
intolerant
to others belief,
reflecting anchorage
in our past conditioning.
The fundamentalist approach
reflects subtly in our behaviour,
although very few will so admit it.
The spiritual man aligned with love,
unbound from ritual and practice,
devoid of ego borne desires
persona detached and free,
flowing with the current,
aspect surrender
in childlike trust,
resonates
divine
love.
16-December-2020
It feels easier.
That's why,
or so she believes.
Why she associates death
and climate pathology
with fear of her ego's mortality
and vaguely remembered anxieties about enslavement;
living death to human identity,
if not all commodified Natures.
Yet, it feels harder
to associate death
with indentured spiritual servitude,
often confused with fundamentalist dogma,
evangelical demagoguery,
politically disempowering religiosity,
Assiduously associated with patriarchal colonization
and straight western white male privilege,
and left brain violently indenturing commodification,
renting human Ego minds
with individualized bodies,
uniquely felt spirits
with thoughtful,
living mortal natures
Associating freedom
with human potential
and at least divine acquiescence,
if not gratitude.
Humanity - tormentor of my dreams
I discovered the people diverse the scream
Limitlessness - limitlessness - limitlessness!
My ephemerality I could not awaken limitlessness
Take thy transcendence from out my heart aching
I crave the human, humane humanness breaking
And the universality never transcending, man's pretending
I crave the dialectic, divine deliverance
I threw my otherness upon the floor with indifference
And the consumers never differentiating
It was hardcore, more so, galore while contemplating
While I pondered, totalitarian and your humanity
Suddenly, I heard some labeling
Only this and a totalitarianism
That moment my soul grew cultist
I discovered the members unlisted
I threw my civilization upon the floor
Do you like embers, men ignore
The annexationist brought such sorrow
I crave the mystic, monarchical democracy borrowed
That fundamentalist, fundamentalist civilizing
Much I marveled this inclusive individualization
And so I screamed, 'Is that a extremity?'
That druid, druidic colonizing
And the civilizations never democratizing
Still is fraternizing, still is extremity fraternizing humanity
Kavanaugh grew up in a cave
Never learned how a judge should behave
This caveman likes beer
And ladies must fear
Becoming this drunkard’s sex slave
Despite his bad manners revealed
Kavanaugh might not be repealed
He’s t-rump’s first choice
To kill Roe v Wade’s voice
And take women’s rights far afield
Author’s Note: This Supreme Court nominee pleases the fundamentalist Christians. If he is confirmed, the very wealthy will also be cheering since he is a supporter of the super-rich, who have no problem taking their private jets to Canada if someone in their family or mistress needs an abortion. The concentration of wealth and the elimination of social programs is what this is really about.
Why was Donald John
closer to his depressed Press Secretary
than his Secretary of Defense?
Because
he took his Press Secretary
as his best fake-news defensive offense
and his primary goal was to fool
all the bipolar fundamentalist monoculturing people
all our dipolar revolutionary cooperative Time.
And,
he thought
his Secretary of Defense
was his Secretary for Oppositional Offensive Defiance
against polyculturing Grace
and Positive WinWin karma of cooperations,
against love and health and multiculturing WinWin
ecotherapeutic sacred life
and secular healthy climates
of and for LeftBrain egotherapeutic
Yang downsizing
Original Intent
of Yin's WinWin optimally flowing
health defense.
And he remembered
he said he was against affordable health care
actions of predecessors,
so he must be for
pathological mismanagement.
IT is, is IT?
If No, then forget about IT.
If Yes, then what is IT?
A fundamental question.
Multiple fundamentalist answers—
Formal and or Functional?
For most of us IT is anthropomorphic
Some believe that IT is present.
Thus, IT may be immanent and or metaphoric
Others think that IT is absent, though IT is;
That is to say, transcendent and metonymic.
IT may be language itself.
Maybe IT works through language
(as for Lacan and Derrida).
Some are believed to have seen IT
Or heard IT.
It is also claimed that you are IT.
IT may be what one takes IT to be,
Be it One or more.
We are all participant-observers,
And sciences attest it.
Thus, IT is highly complex.
But what is ironic is that I wouldn’t share
my food, shelter, property or love—
even with my sibling.
Yet I am all too eager to share all about IT!
***
what goes around...
human bombs wait with fundamentalist patience
to wipe us from the earth as infidels
for polluting paradise
shocked disbelief rises like smoke from 911
hovers over ticky tacky boxes
morning coffee,
last night's discarded
plastic wrapped
lost generation
all for the flush
spindizzy in a clock-wise vortex
stare out through a green dollar haze
and miss the point again
Political correctness prevails
words dissemble & dissimulate,then
lose their meaning in semantic sounds.
Decadent hedonism,attired in faded
blue jeans,with fundamentalist fury
points its finger here,there everywhere
and for the past apologises yet…. fails,
Alice in Wonderland has
come to pass, but can never last.
A quiver
In thy shadow
O hedonic fundamentalist
Corporate machine
Democracy thy logo
Christian right
Of sway
Bow now
To thine mad
Golden calf
Fat on war born dollar
And Roundup ready
To takeover
This cow eat cow world
Quiver
Liberal Christians are in denial,
About how much they validate,
The fundamentalist church old,
Because the same story is told.
I know that the Queen, royalty,
Is a liberal, but that’s irrelevant,
Because history will offer people,
A legacy of the Christian steeple.
When fundamentalist’s err and sin,
They go to their Christian friends bin,
For a validation that’s assumed,
From society’s morals consumed.
Christians back in the seventies,
Were innocent even if felt guilty,
And they would even site the Queen,
To describe their reputation lean.
You can’t do that anymore, thankfully,
Because kids have iPhones, Samsungs,
So communication can made directly,
By the child who may just feel feckly.
I think the state should intervene,
And turn the tables on ancient history,
By dictating to the Anglican world,
Their faith healing rights burled.
It’s not difficult to see and realise,
That fundamentalism goes to far,
So if we set laws for Anglicans,
Then we’ll all be better citizens.
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