884.
10 Meron si Jose Radin 4:
Experiences
Si Jose Radin ay may "Experiences"
Sa parehong public & private offices
Una sa Kapitolyo
Pangalawa sa Koreano
Pangatlo sa Kolehiyo
Pang-apat sa Munisipyo
Panglima sa OLSI
Pang-anim sa Assumption-Passi
Pampito sa DSWD
Salamat sa Dios nang marami.
-10/04/2025
(Dumarao)
*10 Meron si Jose Radin
We live in offices and homes
as, more and more, we're set apart
from where wild nature grows and roams.
Tucked away, we forget to see
we belong and we are a part
of Mother Nature's family.
Paintings hang dead upon our walls
while live floral and faunal art
to every hungry soul, now calls.
It's time for everyone to see
just how creative and how smart
our own natural world can be.
Not unlike a poem or song,
it soothes and moves our soul and heart.
It is the place where we belong.
Your City
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Seven Emerald Hills
Seven emerald hills rise steeply
From restless waters born of moving ice
Siblings of a greater peak
Lifting up their faces into rains of shrouded mists
Or bathed in welcomed sunshine
The First where stately mansion homes
Climbed to heights now holding healing hostels
Looking toward a Beacon,
Watching Rainier’s changing face,
Holding hands, across a valley cleft,
With the West where Alki shores
Welcomed the first footsteps of settlers
Looking across blue waters where ferries play at
Mistaken Magnolia blossoming with madrone
Not bowing to Queen Anne, counterbalanced,
Winking at Capitol, with shady streets
On a broad way above the lake
Looking north to find a learned Crown
Mourning Denny’s passing
Where offices now scrape the sky
Remembering a Yesler skid row, algorithms,
A pioneer square, a needle touching space
Slumbering in the shadows of a Sunset
Where seaplanes play with seagulls
In summer Seafairs and rain festivals January to December
Here everyone dreams,
Hearing no one scream.
Hopes flow like a stream,
Hearts kicking but no deal.
Just the normal feelings,
The normal life.
The better stays in the dream,
Dreams playing from within,
Reality fleeing to the abyss.
A good look at yourself,
Your dream is described.
Like the mouth,
Too big,
Too loud,
Too many problems.
You are not the only one dreaming,
Others are screaming
For that same dream.
Flies dominate the world,
Gathering useless things for free.
Just a few honey makers
Stay and build together.
Beware of flies,
Remember their lies,
And know they will die
In the grave when they try,
Or pit where they fly.
Take a little bow,
At least to ages,
If not those offices.
But basically,
Look to the sky, knees down,
And say your words,
For heaven gives the world.
Check the road,
The thorn at your feet,
Stumps on the way,
Or the holes
Do not stop the heartbeat.
It's nothing to crash on a rash.
A faster stream splashes on the rock,
A steady one finds another way.
So lead your way
And be brave
Some point at principles as high as Everest
But when it comes to practice no exult
Appears, and more so, no interest
So what has been achieved, what's the result?
Conventions, declarations and agreements
Attempts of paperwork to stop the time
Let’s count the profit gained from these events
I want to hear about result if you don’t mind
For all that’s good in human, let’s enhance it
I can’t believe it must be complex or occult
After the hardships overcome we all admit
Don’t disappoint, just tell me the result
You wise men in your offices, or beggars
On wetted benches in the park, excuse me please
What’s the result of all the good for us
Apart of air we're still allowed to breathe?
you feel me?
i'm talking living rooms, offices, kitchens
who knows when a moment of inspiration;
bent red; an american bullfrog ingenuity
too much murmuring;
so when you ask to hold that thought
in a meeting, you tip-toe over
to the organ, turn up the volume,
sit and play that sound that melts
away the furniture; there's a shift
and a pulling away of the tiles.
"play it... loud." tears on the subway
give me twenty-five pedals
and i'll carry church organ pipes
under my arm through the town
unimaginable sonic hand grenade
to make the wibblies fall out
In certain homes you can’t wear shoes;
The option isn’t yours to choose.
It doesn’t line up with my views,
But I can understand it.
Though I was just surprised to read
That certain offices took heed
And told employees that they need -
In fact, they did demand it -
To shed their footwear at the door,
No matter what type that they wore.
This order they could not ignore;
The high-ups did command it.
To me, that is a step too far,
For shoes show who you really are
And wearing slippers might just mar
Your rep and how you brand it.
At home, you maybe act the slob,
But when you dress up for your job,
No boss should be allowed to rob
Your look, the way you planned it.
“Satire is traditionally the weapon of the powerless against the powerful.’ – Molly Ivins
What do the priests patter about when
they meet in the chancery for their parish planning?
Or, when the pandering politicians meet
in their elegant, posh offices
hashing out the welfare of the people
over the goblets of bourbon and bowls of caviar?
If I were a fly on the wall
I would be privy to their innermost thoughts,
their shameful secrets, and
their malicious motivations.
~Contest: A Fly on the Wall
~Sponsor: Suzette Richards
It is October 2145 and the night scene is in full swing.
All buildings that used to house offices now house nightclubs.
Also known as dayclubs now, because people have a lot more time.
Time to pursue hobbies and interests, time to do exciting fun things.
When my grandparents were young buildings were for working.
Many people had to be in their cubicles from eight to five, making a living.
People work from their houses, huts, boats, treehouses and berms now.
Our work day is now four hours, the rest of our day is for family.
I have heard rumors that people used to carry guns and kill each other.
We do not have any of that now. People are not frustrated or angry.
Government requires brain conversion therapy that takes care of this.
We have a health care program that works for everyone.
Mental illnesses are passe’ now also; something we have heard about.
But frankly, we have never seen it. It simply does not happen now.
It is October 2145 and people are happy. We each have a dog or a cat.
Some have both; it is a requirement, mandated by the government.
So that we stay upbeat and optimistic, which we do.
Human rights are not luxuries,
they are not favors handed down
from thrones or offices.
They are the bones of our being,
the quiet truth that says:
I am here. I matter.
Yet how often they are traded
like currency,
weighed against profit,
bent under fear.
How often silence becomes cheaper
than justice.
But still—
in streets lit by protest fires,
in whispers carried across borders,
in the steady gaze of those
who refuse to disappear—
they rise.
A right is not a law,
not ink on paper,
but a pulse,
a voice that will not quiet
even when the world
tries to cover its mouth.
And peace—
true peace—
cannot live without them.
It is not the absence of war,
but the presence of dignity,
the recognition of each life
as unshakably equal.
So we keep standing,
hands open,
voices loud,
building a world
where rights are not a dream to chase
but the ground beneath our feet.
Federal agents seen blocking roads leading to farms in Ventura County
After COVID financial exception the poverty order of math regulations grasps liberties
Verses limiting Assembly and Public Defense
Interest in hearing from free speech professionals above the granted offices of staff.
Such that retort rebuttal or record in retraction as gaining traction in printed press allows readership to submit evidence of redress. Having failed due process and diligence the public record holds the assembly woman Irwin and the county of Ventura and unincorporated areas legal assistance in contempt.
contempt.
#asmirwin #vcpublicdefender #cagovernor #repbrownley #mikeytaylor #berniesanders #aoc #realdonaldtrump #tonybiasotti #latimes
latimes
#venturapolice #vcsheriff #sbcpubdef #lapdhq #lapdcentral #nypd #nyfd #nytimes
nytimes
#repcarbajal #congressmansherman #repjasmine #iamwesmoore #taragendron #kendalljenner #saulwilliams
Reference as science and letters
Published reference by military science researcher
#nasa #mit
Educating Rachel
Now, let us try this again to write a document
With one letter marching nicely in front of the other
Like adding instead of using numbers to give the written
words prettiness, even if the theme is about unnatural sex.
The fact is that there is a diesel smell at the bus terminal
At six in the morning, when the cleaning lady starts her
low-paid work has nothing to do with anything, had they
They're going to university, they could sit in fine offices
and go to the hairdresser at nine, a woman who can just
read and write, luckily for the ladies, she skipped school.
The driver of the bus enters farts loudly, and that is ok
But I could have shown some respect. It is odd to think
If all women had higher education and looked up to the blue
sky, who should make my dinner?
The alarm clock sounds off to the tune of Neil Young’s, There’s a World.
A place that is non-existent in today’s life of a constant upwhirl.
Our dreams and aspirations are put to the side.
To get ready for the day of demands and haste for pride.
We enter our vehicles to begin a long drive, tiredness and red eyed.
To a place called work.
That requires you to do the tasks for that special perk.
No time to think.
No time to blink.
Your life is full of deadlines, distractions, until the pen runs dry, out of ink.
For hours on end, is this constant repetitive action.
You’re told what to say.
You’re told what to do.
Colleagues are fighting over who is using the offices favorite glue.
We are all in this mess together.
Bound like pieces of sewn up stitches of leather.
All for the reward.
A paycheck to continue to do it over and over again.
Feeling like a dartboard.
Designed, controlled in the trap.
It is the life of a well paid collapse.
I can’t be
sharing
my body
with you
who’s now a shallow pool
though the room is offices
I can hear them panting now
his saliva wet every bedsheet
he’s your boss
your CEO
I’m quite
resistant
to reform
proposals
feet tracing ruts
softened by the weight of others
the path was worn
polished
not by insight
but by generations
unquestioning the same direction
a weed split the sidewalk
where my foot hesitated
they handed us maps
already marked, folded
creased at the routes
they wanted us to traverse
walls hung with heirlooms
no one claimed
shadows
longer than the rooms
classrooms’ chalkboards of certainty
offices pressed flat with protocol
we learned the art
of veiling the eye behind the eye
we drank from vessels
lips like waiting mouths
etched with forgotten crests
believing the shape of the cup
taught us thirst
air rehearsed its return
like a tethered animal pacing
the same invisible circle
inscribed with grace
shaped like a cage
narrowing the limit
of knowledge
of wisdom
altars made from repetition
shaped our days
to fit the mold
filed down the splinters of doubt
until only smooth compliance remained
tell me—
what is awakening
if not the moment
your hand reaches
for a handle
no one told you was there
and the quiet moment after waking
my heart
uncertain
unshod
hesitates…
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