August 15 ‘A Spontaneous Day of Peace’

http://thepublicblogger.com/2015/08/04/a-spontaneous-day-of-peace/

August 15 ‘A Spontaneous Day of Peace’  - Social Media & The Blogosphere

 

Risen

 

 

Sky born, lifted above

Water, Earth, primordial mud.

Bare breath and lilting light waft up, carry ephemeral

tongues, frenzied yet exquisite. Exaltation, daring

to swoop, touch, climb, pirouette.

Path briefly complete in hover, amazed, over

flowering waves.

 

Vision trails, engulfed in smoke of smelting flame,

gasping, tropically turning, blind, yet

beyond mistrust.  A world drifts.  Black night backlit in

pinpricks.  Atmosphere of bioluminescence,

symphonic, symbiotic.  Listen as rippling elements

grow words, symbolic histories, into a Summer game.

Out here, sparkling rain weaves rainbows.  Reverence

casts reflection as shimmer and shadow play.

Up here, beyond boundaries of ordinary days,

the only Commandment to penetrate --

Be Peace

 

 

 

 

Lighting Candles

 

 

I wish you peace.

I wish you love.

I wish you time to

explore your essence.

I wish you safety.

I wish you patience.

I wish you visions,

sweet dreams and

sweeter days.

I wish the world

a sweeter disposition.

I wish for peace,

for love,

for better times.

I wish we all get

the wishes we yearn for.

I thrice charge these wishes

and send them to you.

 

 

 

 

Body Language

 

 

Teach Peace

Dancing in the classroom

Body wisdom

reaches through neural pathways,

regenerates whole to whole,

soul to soul

touching seam

exactly

I feel you in my mind, my spine.

Feel me dancing,

elongating muscles,

extending connections.

 

 

 

 

 

Logic of Evolution

 

 

Successful progenitors

survive to sow seed

by force or persuasion

or hiding off screen

or banding together

that more may succeed,

and upgrade conditions,

enhance the breed.

But, for such teams to work well

we must

learn to respect, honor, and trust;

expect to contribute, receive and share,

accept the caring for and care.

In community varied seeds are sown.

Thus is a thriving future grown.

Or, sibling rankling infests, turns

on neighbors as scorn.

Barriers proliferate,

preparations for war.

Who is emboldened by

destruction and blood,

blasting civilizations

back into mud?

Are these principled people

filled with kindness and joy?

Those who can create, build;

the lacking destroy.

Guns, bombs, cruel words,

contempt, angry sneers,

promotion of pain,

preying on fears,

paying us naught but

unneeded tears

and advancement of certain

unsavory careers.

We can reject violent lies,

realize the prize.

Here! before our eyes.

Simple. Easy. Free.

Expect, accept, embrace

the abundance

of Peace.

 

 

 

Earth Songs

 

 

Aching times.

Ghost singers on the prairie.

Snug little home, hearthfire familial peace

against rage and winds. Stone and sacrifice.

Dust storms erode,

leave wastrel sentinels.

 

Far, in green glade mists

where ancient hymns are born,

chthonic wilds, primordial rune castings.

Building over eternity, silent, archetype of will, ponders.

Intrinsic senses, despair, bottomless sorrow, loss of intent.

At the root of desire, truest wish to be fashioned,

sold at price of who you were made against your nature.

 

Wooden ships sail eternal sea.

Journey ages within these circles, free.

Easy found trades, winds selling seeds.

Back to the gardens of pagan lore --

earth, air, sun, and transforming water.

We wander days of potent destiny,

telling the tale, deep mystical incantation,

of a possible age in birth.

Love song 'tween man

and Earth.

 

we are not our ancestors

we are not religions

we are not lines on a map demarcated by war

we are earth made vital

we are seeking minds inviting partners

we are seed and core as skin sheds and grows anew

we are me and you and all we become, alone and together

we are as we agree, composed of dissonance and harmony

thriving lives matter

Peace matters

 

 

 

 

Clean Up

 

 

I dislike the implied mess of violence.

Peace is more tidy,

clean and inviting.

Why waste precious metal

in deadly intent

when a kickass party

can pay the rent --

a rant and rave relaxing

pent up pain.

Where’s the percentage of gain?

The perception that rage requires

release within this people cage,

to ease torment of feeling less

accepted,

Reflex flight or fight? Psychobabble hype?

Nobody  needs to violently die today.

 

 

 

 

 

Luminescent Choir

 

 

Singers in the fog.

Outlying voices thin, yet growing;

accruing sound, like liquid, flowing.

Emoting tales of woe, resistance.

Shouted sighs of denied existence.

Insightful chants insist persistence.

We never died.  We're knitting strong.

Born into a world-wide village.

Only from ourselves to pillage.

Hear our song.

Some bright good morning of

fish and loaves, cake and wine,

capacious tribes adjoin in movement.

Shining line of peace.

Terror’s fear released.

Music, celebration in the streets.

Flower scented candles,

vigil against shame.

Blazing through miasmic mist,

Apollonian flame torches banners of

hostilities falsely triggered

in our name.

Come harmonize, aloud:

We're alive and proud

to descant, dispel dank chill.

Sing to vanquish fog.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This is our greatest duty

 

 

Live in peace,

believe in joy --

For as joy fills our hearts, we leave no room for

  doom/destruction

As joy fills our lives, we learn to live

in

Outreaching love

Deep healing warmth

Safe harbor home

Benevolence assured

Fulfilling Hope

Affirming Joy

Abiding Peace

 

 

Make Peace The Issue

 

conversation with depression

Depression is not an illness.  It is a way of organizing information.  There is not even objective meaning of "depression"; but rather a series of "symptoms" some, none or any of which can be involved.  Rather than lock people into some specious diagnosis, we could better look at what is going on in their lives and respond accordingly.

 

 

No matter your predispositions to this or that response to overbearing stress, much more generally useful than (legally prescribed or illicitly self-medicated) system skewing drugs would be learning better coping strategies.

 

For one:  Focusing on satisfying personal experience rather than looping into the pain of resignation and blame

 

Eventually, perhaps, the "scientists" will discover that correlation is not causation and the brain/body/soul is a fully interactive system. The brain activity associated with depression is the brain going through its processes to tell you what is happening with your system. The brain activity will change as you change.

 

challenge to depression

 

It's not my fault.

It's not my responsibility.

It's the world I live in.

I need to find a way to live in it comfortably.

 

Not the world "we" live in; the world "I" live in. We each have our own. It is the ecostructure which informs our programming.

 

It is not my fault: I did not create this world. I was born into it. It is the given to which I respond.

 

It is not my responsibility: It follows its own rules, not mine. I have no way to control, but can only interact. I have my own responsibility, which is to learn to develop and use my own resources, to take care of myself, to perform the roles that are mine, which will expand this world to include my own self-definitions.

 

To find ways in which to live comfortably in my world, even if they may (or may not) include a great deal of discomfort, is about finding the ways to express my true essence in joy and grace. It is pure waste to syphon off my energy into self-blame, self-excoriation, self-punishment. By focussing that energy into living comfortably in my world, I am allowing myself to emerge and expand and energize into ideas and actions that fulfill both me and those affected by the ripples.

 

I am talking about challenging depression, which to a large extent seems to be based on feelings of guilt and inadequacy.

 

My world is the world that I was born and continue to evolve from, the given background of everything/everyone/everymoment that affects and effects the way I come to understand who I am by contrast and comparison. It is the world of the social culture, the emotional relationships, the physical environment, the airwaves and lightwaves, the nutritional components of the foods I have learned to take in, the mass media and the personal conversations, the rules of conduct both written and unwritten, the pressures and erosions and movements that have formed my underlying assumptions and the structures in which they are housed.

 

What I am suggesting here in my challenge is exactly what you speak of as magick -- letting go of the old illusory order and recreating the self to encourage new metaprogramming which will be both freeing and expanding in a self-chosen direction.

 

If you do not like the space in which you dwell and move out or change it/your perspective of it, you first must understand that this is a space which you can leave or change, and where it is that you would better go/what changes you would better devise. What is the "symptom" and what the "problem"? I am saying the symptom is simply a misunderstanding of the placement of image and background; the problem is the denigration of the self.

 

We can not move out of the all pervasive background. We cannot control it. We can interact with it to create a better fit all the way around.

 

It (that is not your responsibility) is the world of everything that exists before, ahead, around you that has helped to create your mindset, your basic and consequent programming, your take on who you are and your place in that world. It is NOT your responsibility (my responsibility). It is not my fault. It IS my world. My responsibility, my need, in order to be the person who is ME, who fulfills my roles for the good of my life and ultimately the lives I affect, is to find ways to live in my world more comfortably. No contradiction. No victimization, rather a breaking away from victimization. The world is not fate to be mine -- it is the background for which I am the image.

 

I feel I am not communicating. Let me try from another entry point.

 

Have you ever been seriously depressed? I don't mean tragically unhappy, but that irrational paralysis that keeps you from being able to bear the thought of doing, being, continuing.

 

What is that thoughtstream, that blaring punishment just behind your eyes? What is that voice saying?

 

"You're fat! You're lazy! Stupid! Incompetent! Selfish! Nobody likes you! You're not worth dirt! You are committing the greatest possible sin just by existing. The world would be better off without you; and you would be better off without the world."

 

That is the world I am talking about. The world that gave you these ideas in the first place. That world in which you fit only most uncomfortably. Yet, it is the only world you know. It is the world that formed your knowledge, your permitted ways of knowing. It is all the rules and structure that have given form to your life. It is that harsh word from a stranger that you didn't understand, and how mom made you feel and dad had scared you, and the sly look as a schoolmate whispers into another's ear, a look aimed at you. Or, hell, it could be hell. It could be the people dropping dead around you, and what could you possibly do to make up for surviving. It could be a sacred promise you made to a dying friend that could never be fulfilled. It could be rape; it could be terrifying violence. But you got it wrong. You blamed yourself. And the reasons you got it wrong go back to that world, not to you.

8/8/15

Exercise

 

 

Walk this expansive garden with me.

Don’t talk.

Don’t take up your thoughts

wondering what to say.

Breathe.

Walk freely.

Air out and in.

Imagine.

This magnificent garden,

colours alive.

What do you see, smell, sense?

Who is this you with senses,

with imagination,

with me

in this garden?

Who would you be, what would you do,

if time and space were infinite?

Don’t talk.

Imagine.

Walk.

Breathe.

 

 

 

politics

 

 

infinite regression of change and resistance

multi-rhythmed rhyme

singing into the winds of change

to move their vector more in line

with where we wish to arrive

 

 

 

astral vision

 

 

Mystery mists of history holy lightening heightening sky.

Desirous anticipation.

Early pinks ascend from eerie violets.

Sun’s lifting eye twinkles like a happy kitten,

tummy exposed for adoration.

Omens, prophecy, hope for enduring happy returns,

quests beyond horizons now observed.

(without gravity, how can we fall ... or love?)

Aching for stars, planets, infinite,

silent assent that means all is promised.

I touch a cosmic peak,

breathless at such altitude.

 

 

 

Generation

 

 

Infinite, eternal, these are words,

maps to definitions, not what is.

Creation never ends, never begins again,

not repetition but reflection.

Legends and runes.  Ritual regression.

Significant omens.

Ravens forsake flocks, ranges skewed.

 

In primordial recesses of a sigh

trembling hearts enact a pact of solitude,

invent machinations of separation,

journey through despair.

Sovereign brains evolve, adapt to dangers;

patterns that evoke anger, fear.

Scanning eyes, ears, nostrils

filter through parameters,

call out Warning!  Warning!

far too often, far too loud.

There is no guide, no authority,

none but me, repeatedly mirrored.

Each step, each succession

undertaken

in idiosyncratic interpretation.

What will become of all these "I"s

staring through, demanding

retribution, bare, raw justice?

Respectable explanation.

Rigorous notation.

Scores, codes, clocks, keystones.

Laws and theories developed to describe

thin segment of encompassment

accessible to sense and reason.

 

Early morning of soft savannah

wakens to cloud and mist.

Waft of tranquil distillation

soothing startled breasts --

Ripples quietly express

infinitely regressing

first cause

last effect.

 

 

 

I Have a Secret

(remind me when I flail)

 

 

Relinquish distorted burdens, proddings,

guilts detached from sticky past beyond.

As much as change is, permanence exists

as measured landscape.

Stories still stir primal wonder.

Hopes, wishes, aspirations, familiar allies

to focus change, focus mind within changes.

On reflection,

certainties of youth

acquire a different truth.

Re-direction creates a different view.

Revealed feelings new to introspection.

Not what you expected.

Different cues

mix into different moods.

There are infinite paths to imagine.

So many worlds – divergent time.

A kiss may awaken a queen

or set a crone to dreaming

or be seen as defilement of that most

pernicious kind.

Where we arrive, what bliss we find

outside the reach of simple limb extension

is not about up and down retention

or spiral twines.

Your eyes draw me,

they fill in the lines

with infinite perspective.

We breathe in expansive comprehension,

exhale,

design a widened sky to fly --

more beauty to infuse.

 

 

 

8/8

 

 

truth is not narrow

it is infinite

the narrow way

is fear's, or merely a tunnel

on the way to truth

 

find a quiet place

relax

let your mind drift and wander

fall into infinite awareness

take a leisurely stroll through

what feels good, right, beautiful

engage?

 

Beyond stratosphere,

infinite bliss,

the whole of the real.

Daring to explore pleasure, infinite awareness.

Leisurely share what feels genial, good, light.

 

Infinite muse lit lanterns take wing,

illuminate eternity.

Cells disperse out from infinite regression,

demand expanding territory,

redefinition, delineation, demarcation.

All the places of possibility

open to scrying eyes.

I am the universe of time and space

awaiting birth.