Long Move around Poems
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A book of lists
is what I need
to absolve Earth's Tribes
of rampant greed.
Before and after lists,
being and becoming fists,
masculine and feminist mutual mentoring trists
of transliterative transubstantiation.
I would like to hug
a warm and fuzzy theology
with prophetic philosophical appeal
to aesthetic reasons and tastes
that both hunters and gatherers
might sing and dance along
together.
Nationalism is out,
so Earth-centrism is in.
Egocentric competitions are out,
so ecoconsciousness colors back in
balancing patriarch/matriarch cooperatives,
consensus ego/eco-consciousness.
I need an updated list of reasons why
when red is out
then green is in
and when they grow together
we rediscover rich brown creolization
of less anthrocentric cultures,
we reweave deep dark mythos/logos syncretism,
for healthier earth history stories,
not just logos taught, but also mythos mentored.
I love this list
of red becomes purpling peopling nurturing equalities
as blue states of eco-natured redevelopment
become aquamarine green,
together ultra-violet
non-zero sum octaves
WinWin his/herstories.
I live these self-regenerating lists.
They move around
Yin-in with Yang-out
to re-emerge regenerative
of and with and for Earth's 4D spacetime double-binding
creole-loving
living
transcendent generosity
listing forward to regenerative ecotherapy
listing back toward permaculturing gratitude
for these organic EarthTribe lists
of ebb and flow.
We need an historic list,
cooperatively owned and together self-managed,
of how paganism birthed monotheism
and regenerations of taoist anthrocentric panentheism
birthed co-arising nonduality
of PatriarchalYang loving Matriarchal nurturing Yin
birthing Trinitarian permacultures
systemic-organic networks
regenerating egoconscious Left
as also ecoconscious Right
as Mother Earth Shabbat
in and of Beloved internal/external Community
climate balance
both universally absolutely empowering
and invitingly
unitingly
concretely organic Golden Rule ego/eco enlightening.
I need a list
composed by historians
and journalists
of what regeneratively happened
when we had no bad news,
where we had no headlines to gossip about
and only loves to nurturingly share
with
and in
and on
and for
and of
Earth's regenerate blessings.
See them walking down the street in fine tailor made suits, Jackets and ties to match and expensive shoes to match their suites; their haircuts is sharp and their perfume can still be smelt after dark .They are holding executive bags in their hands and a motion is spinning around in their head to kill your ideas before they materialize.
See the bureaucrats in the bar drinking wine and crunching figures, they just had a hefty lunch and plan to oppose the bill before the votes begin, they don’t agree to anything and they drain your energy before the day begins, there is no solution to solve their problems and the road that they are traveling on is a very difficult one.
See the bureaucrats in the room getting ready for a meeting that will begin at noon, they have the agenda laid out in front of them and a master plan that will land them in heaven.
The bureaucrats are waiting at the gate so strike a deal with them before it is too late. Their visions are limited and they are not creative. Once they formulate a plan they will stick to it until it lands them in a precipice ; they are quarreling among themselves how to spread the resources among the community, they are selfish, stingy and mean and they eat the gravy off before the negotiator walk through the gate and give the pure rice and flour to eat without vegetable or meat.
I stood outside the revolving door watching them coming and going, they move around with a sense of urgency but nothing was really happening, a fake smile appears on their face and I watch them passing papers from place-to-place muttering something out loud .
Suddenly a man stood up from the back and start to shout, he was angry about a proposal that was overlooked by the one at the top, they kept carrying him around in circles and the sudden outburst shocked everyone in room.
It came like a missile straight through the window and disrupts the proceedings,, they argue among themselves and the distractions continue all the way up to twelve, the meeting was over before it began, they could not control their raucous emotions ; two men rolling in the dirt over a simple words, the Bureaucrats are sleeping in my bed and you have got to remove them before the gangster bruised their heads.
The Bureaucrats are moving around the town in shorts sleeves and long gown.
Where did I leave that serenity behind, that made me smile?
Now these red lights choke, the blood's dried, human venom reigns,
I cant dream in this jail, my sleep's gone, quite a while,
Red lights, danger, dont come here, all you'll get is pain.
'Come on, Kamini, there's customers outside, go satisfy their need,'
I move around in a caged house, where the nights aren't starry!
I'm sick, my body aches, heart jumps out, nobody pays a heed,
As I unbutton my blouse, remove the saree!
Where did that playground vanish, where I went out playing?
I look out at the empty skies, by day they are blue, and once again red,
I put faith in Someone once, I wasted my time praying,
I live in a colony of women who are dead!
'Kamini, what are you gonna do when you're big?' said a familiar voice,
No. It wasnt. It was a bad dream about a blurry past, rotten.
The red lights made me learn in life, without much choice,
So, in some way I'm thankful that in another world I am forgotten.
Where did the scoldings fade, when I put some mischiefs into act?
My mother would chase, and my father smile, reading his newspaper,
I would blow in my tea, and take a sip that wouldn't keep my mouth intact,
And then, jump as high as a skyscraper!
'Kamini, you can play in the ground, just dont go near the streets,'
It was once a day when the sun hadn't died, and my playtime cried,
But who would follow, when a child heart pleads?
That is when, for the first time, my life lied.
Where did I do things wrong that I pay this price today?
A girl is known for the will she holds, the will to carry on,
But what about the disgrace men give us, shall not we hold it too, in dismay?
I put my trust in a fake mind, my faith now is gone.
'Come, child, lets give you a ride, we'll give you a chocolate,'
I went to the car, a single step has turned my life upside down,
But he was just like my father, why would he have someone to hate
Someone whom he would send far away from her town?
Where did the streets go which dumped me here, made me a whore?
Was His eyes closed, or was he smiling at my folly?
Life's an unforgiving ocean, doesnt return things she takes from the shore,
And now the time's come, the graveyard is calling!
I write my wrath, is He there to stop another death?
No. He's not....
A man should first know his own strength,
what it is he can and cannot do,
our physical power is no small thing,
use it wrong and you’ll be truly screwed,
they’ll take everything away from you.
But on the right job, or in self-defense
it’s a boon that can make all the difference.
A man should know that he has to work,
that without it there’s no dignity,
that hand-outs just put you on a leash,
make you someone else’s property,
for them to move around endlessly.
To truly be free, you’ll have to labor,
earn the respect of yourself and your neighbor.
Man should know of his nation’s past,
what it cost to get where we are now,
the good and the bad, and who sacrificed
to give us the life freedom allows,
not all folks with this chance are endowed.
It is our duty to see it live on,
to not do so would leave our children wronged.
A man should know to carry a knife,
and to own and use a firearm,
to know the when and why of such things,
in defense only should he cause harm,
or if hunting food down on the farm.
But trusting to fate will leave a man dead,
you must have the tools to hand evil its head.
A man should know how to spend his money,
how to plan ahead and make a budget,
and to put aside for the unforeseen,
it always hits when your least expect it,
and a killer lies within large debts.
It’s not just cash, it’s hours of your life,
things are easier when you spend it right.
A man should know that human nature
is something that’s never going to change,
and all who think they’ll ‘remake’ the world
as either childish, evil, or insane,
their ideas end in nothing but pain.
Treat people as the mixed batch they are,
at least then you’ll have the chance to go far.
A man should know that women are built
different not just in body, but in mind.
Each sex will have its natural strengths,
and we play to them all the time.
Given our aggression men will find
use in restraints from old chivalry,
no matter the protests of the feminazis.
A man should know how to be sincere,
to be honest in his life and his work,
to hold close to a firm code of honor
so as not to devolve into a jerk,
but to still remember how to hurt,
because if you can’t, if you have no backbone,
then you can forget a life that’s your own.
I love how the moon look in the sky,
it is clear in the crystal rain,
I love how the two different moons, look,
that I described it/they are in the sky,
it appear in the night sky,
when it starts to show, and to appear,
it move around in the lit day light sun,
it will never go away, the/it the moon,
it never goes away,
that is how I know that it will never
go away,
it will stay up in the dark blue night air,
in coming out in my favorite day,
during days/the day in, and to,
finally eyes blooming eyes create a red, and night
gray gothic flower,
thinking of both times in the sun,
I love the circular shape of the moon,
it is dull light white inside of my/a pathway,
walking ground to create the perfect,
gigantic little dark green smiling ground,
looking away from behind me,
I am walking with a eye ground mind,
stringing up in hand in/a, a standing like me alone,
gothic flower, cute in my life's not in other people lifes,
to create a gothic flower,
I am obsessed with flowers,
and I then I love and then I like them,
they like me to,
cannot wait to I can gather up the flow
ers that / they are gothic, sunlight me,
I am holding them in my hand,
because they are my favorite kind of flowers,
to hold in the day light,
because they are my favorite kind of flowers,
(at night) to hold in the day light,
to hold at night where I go to sleep, at
night,
at night to hold at night where I go to sleep,
(at night ro hold where I go to sleep at,
nighttime at nighttime while I am counting
sheep, bedside *
at night while I am counting sheep,
what happen underneath the hall
gothic heaven shining wavy silk covers,
is a secret between me and then me,
what happen underneath these.the gothic
hell covers,
is a top secret from a top hat secret,
top hat secret, from a top hat, in
secret,
from a I am holding these bunches,
of flowers,
from a secret top secret hat,
in the star lit midnight twilight spar
kling twinkle star*
from sparkling, lit shining water that I will drink,
and to love,
they start as baby flowers at first,
these are just my babies roses that I have,
I love them all especially you wise bit,
but I love goth more when I am here bored,
so let look at the sun,
while sitting down for fun, smiles *
Standing on a ridge a sight can be seen. The kettles were choosing a queen. Bouquets were bought for the waters within. For waters will want wonderful and wonderful it was. The chosen kettle was a marvel. Complete with glowing sides and clear too. Captivating when boiling as the bubbles could be seen. But when cleaning was required it was time for the little wire brush to trot over to the kettle. Insert itself then move around to clear the debris. WOW. Look how it sparkles. Amazing isn't it?
But a bored baboon can only be made to smile through sipping a cup of banana juice, kissing trees, and playing ping pong with the dainty pig who was also rather fed up at this moment in time as the apples were not falling from the trees and that was a travesty.
Oh go and play a game of noughts and crosses in a shoe then. And definitely play monopoly in a chest of drawers. It is irrelevant the scores given to twenty over sized marbles in a washing machine. Scores should only ever be awarded to skittles. And skittles skate so when the pond is icy always put skating boots on them.
To outsmart a heron with a bunch of melons and some keys is to kiss over ninety frogs at a ball. But attending a ball has to be the most single important factor on a calendar card for a pineapple whose hair stood out from the rest in lovely green spikes. But lemons never wear such head dresses for they prefer triangular tiaras and triangular tiaras are neither tepid training turtle-neck tulips and neither are they tigers talking to timbers. Timber-frames are most thwarted at the tango but woods can waltz most admirably. Positioned palettes pirouetting.
And never forget to keep an eye on the Pyrex dish for Pyrex dishes can be filled with a vast array of produce and arrays of produce are mainly understood to be as vibrant as a colourful garden windmill. Spinning in a breeze then. Good. Creamy coleslaw calming carrots creatively creating canopies. Pea wisdom in a skirt skimming the stones into the lake from the shore holding the umbrella and a picnic basket.
WOW
Curtain chop on a tight rope.
Z Wunderpus photogenicus Z
At thirty six flies zooming on a lawn to 18 garlands of flowers in a florist.
Form:
The dry cracked earth moan under its crust while the languishing trees hold firmly beneath its grit absorbing little moisture within its root sending memory of hard time way back to its youth. The grass has dried up in the hot dessert heat and the animals have no place to sleep.
The sun rises in the morning walking with vengeance through the corn field, scorching blades and burning limbs from the shades then sits on top of the roof. It splashes its beam everywhere penetrating the asphalt melting it in front of my bulging eyes.
The heat continue to move around drying up rivers and sucking out water pipes while the busy trucks moving around the town with big water hose, filling the residence drums, bottles, pots and everything that they have got with water.
At nights they open their windows wide, trying to get some cool breeze but only hot hair kept circulating in the atmosphere and the crying babies keeps the mothers up late at nights burping and spewing sour milk on their shoulder while the heat continues to play a brazen rhythm in their feet.
It is a strange heat that is taking over the street, it burns the energy out of man, weakens his limbs and when he goes to the field he can hardly move the plough. It drains his spirit and put nature on the run and so the day went by holding man to his conscience while the curse of nothingness penetrates the earth.
I couldn’t bear to see the drought that is flirting about the earth
Moving between space giving rise to tension and ripping up the emotions. It sets the earth on fire and replenishes the desire, it cause justice to rise to its feet and solve the murder in the third degree.
The suffering was intense and so I had to do something. I walked towards the south and stretch out my hands and hum a song. All of a sudden the skies start to get dark and the birds start moving towards the south, hundreds of them flew in a pack while the old lark lingered at the back.
I know that something was about to happen so I watched it played out and just as I moved my hand the thunder start to shout and lightening respond in seconds. And so the heavens broke loose and fill the southern earth with water.
In a royal antibacterial waste machine one must wait for the willing vibrancy of the whistling seal. Dressed neatly in a three piece suit he sits on a rock and calls to the breezes on which there are so few. In the era of expunging elitist effigies there exists far less than in a previous era so dimensions have developed a more triangular appearance. Seal looks on. Temperate falling skies bring all weathers and still not too many feathers on a beaded wind. A cloth can move around to bring alterations but altercations are caused by many plastic helmeted men who proudly hold the spray. And spraying is often located even in a bread. Or a small currant. Or sultana. Managed mainly manufactured. Measly mass monstrous movements. No moccasins here then. And thus the page is turned until the avenue is in sight. Roll roll roll. Here comes the square car. Beep beep. Out of which comes a giraffe, a penguin, a sea turtle with bright lips, and a monstrous fig tree complete with a very tall hat that reaches to Jupiter. When that is wiped the flight paths of emus sail to even the most far flung regions of the globe. And travesty is not travelling it is trapping and taming. Should one really place ham in a sandwich when pork should be free to roam? All aboard then. Is everyone ready? Comfortable? Enchanted? Good. For time is short. And a boom boom boom is arriving to stunt even the most strongest of plants into an oblivion of a scale. But not a scale of C. A scale of 0. No charging buffalo could ever stand true if the prefered angle is in a skirt or a bosum. And a bohemian's car is a secret castle. Watch out there is a lady who spews curd. Mongoose style of neck. So a mongoose and a buffalo do go to dinner to entertain for great plans are being made and a global economy has an appointment at the gym. So hahaha to all that. And place the 900 nappies in the bin. For the 890 children will surely mean that the £ will pay the way. House heating. And a heavy wide load giggling with a small town. Xxxxx high heels mooo looping. Xxxxx kittens kitty xxxxx belligerent buffer bluffing xxxxx done. And that was the p y q who was reporting live from a dinner hall in 1528. Z.
Form:
There is a strange wind blowing in the town and I don't know where it is bound.There is a strange wind blowing in the town and destiny is moving from door to door.Short wind, wide wind, narrow wind, and all types of wind is moving around ferociously bearing mankind sins.Wind come in contact with wind, wind beating against wind, wind that has no proof when it is ready to rip through the roof.I don't know where it started and where it is going to end but the mood is not totally free, especially when you have to sign the final decree.The ageless, the merciless, the motherless and the fatherless are moving in the same direction with their hands and feet buried in the concrete.And a strange sound howling from above makes the pilgrimage before the day is done.While the sorrows of the night is moving around slowly with all its might.There is a strange wind blowing in the town spreading its chill around, it is crawling up and down the tree with a profound message for you and me.I have tried to analyze it, and I have tried to summarize it but something is deeper than me keeps grinding its teeth at me. I don't respond well to threat, especially when it involves death.I don't respond well to threat that cause people to fret.When you mix bitter and sweet, you will get bitter sweet.It is more like the taste of wine with a certain blamish embedded within.The woman sitting infront of me is selling sweet coconut cake and the man behind me is selling bitters and spices on a ring that will send the cockroaches running.Everything is bitter and it will wash away the pain that has caused so much shame.If you put it into your mouth it is bitter, if you put it in water it is bitter, bitter balls, bitter wood, bitter leaves, bitter stick, everything is bitter the man shouts.The lyrics move around the park as the marching band gets ready to start.They are tuning up their drums and everyone is lining up for the strange
run.The wind is penetrating the base and it has many different faces.I don't know which way it will blow but I have to leave town before the start of the show.Stand and rise up with the wind.
The times are fast changing
The certainty of season is
evading
The sure signs of weather has
for long disappeared
Along with our cultures and
moral values has smeared
Oh Arike! may my eyes not see
the evil the day brings
The scorching sun burns so
hot at day
The chilly cold oppresses no
less at night
The youths and young ones
has missed the way
Groping blindly around with
vain confidence in the light
Oh Arike! may you not be deaf
to the wise words of age
Life in the world now seem
strange
Young men move around
deranged
Treating our words with
hapless disdain.
Basking in their own fooly,
prolonging their pain
Arike my daugther! may you
never miss your way.
Day after day our wise words
are ignored
Seconds in minutes
out;pollution permeates our
atmosphere
Caution is thrown to the wind
And we fail to realise the fact
that the man who eats his cake
will never have it.
Arike!Arike!! Heed my words
Like our elders will say;
If the sun claims to be brighter
than the moon,tell me why
doesn't it shines at night?
If the youth claim to be wiser
Why dont they pull a strand of
grey from their hair
Arike! Its high time our words
are heeded.
No man heeds the wise words
of age and still misses the way.
Experience they say is the
better teacher
Lessons learnt from
experience are treasures to be
guarded jealously
The young man who glorious
foolishly in his strength
Is no sooner consumed by
pride than by an adversary.
Arike my daughter! Heed my
words
Follow the path of destiny and
see where it leads
Follow the creator who set out
your life from the outset we
earnestly plead
Heed our words,the wise
words of age
Even though we know it is not
the grey hairs that makes one
a sage.
Nevertheless,it does matter in
the end,b'cos we have been
there in your shoes.
Arike! Arike!! Arike!!! Let it be
known that we played our part
Before the time finally
changes,and the certainty of
season departs
Heed our words and desist
from your actions
He that has got ears,let him
hear...