Read The Unfolding Page 7

Idiot Box

  O Cable TV - God of this New Age,

  Art thou here to teach me?

  Art thou here to amuse me?

  Methinks thou art here

  mayhap but to rot mine poor brains.

  Thou bringest forth the daily news,

  nay, the hourly news, forsooth!

  The minutely news to boot!

  Dost thou care I should be informed

  of dire happenings in yonder distant lands?

  Seekest thou not rather to confuse

  and maketh me worry

  this, that or t'other shouldst befall

  that I may rush to the nearest mall

  and load my reluctant ass

  with baskets of sundry wares

  I'd never thought of buying

  but for these new cares?

  O Cable TV, thou son of darkness,

  wherefrom cometh thou

  to despoil my soul of light?

  To rob mine brain of comely thoughts?

  O, who shalt deliver me

  from such a loathsome monster?

  Who shalt come hither

  and lead me once more

  into the calm reading of a simple book?

  The Immune System

  We speak of our “immune system”

  and speculate on our fate:

  why do we incur diseases?

  why do we age - why do we die -

  or should I say, why do our bodies die?

  Maybe there is no such thing

  as “immunity” against death

  because life is energy patterns

  and somehow we put too much store

  in some, ignore others,

  or don't even know what an energy field is.

  If we entertain the thought that life is energy

  we can reason thus:

  beneficial energies give and maintain life,

  predatory energies destroy life

  for selfish reasons, always selfish reasons.

  That man is a predator - the most dangerous -

  is not in question anymore.

  That he destroys life without thought or qualm

  thinking that “might makes right,”

  is not in question.

  By his passage, life is destroyed.

  But not just the life of his victims,

  his own need must be included in the pattern.

  The field of life generated in the womb

  dissipates with the passage of time,

  or the intensity of his destruction

  and he dies, brutalized by his own brutality,

  never realizing how it all comes about -

  never knowing that it is he, only he

  who causes his own demise.

  The Last Train Out

  I've asked for a great gift:

  understanding, you know,

  why things are the way they are

  and how relationships work,

  and where does the universe come from?

  I need to know, it's that simple,

  and human wisdom leaves such gaps,

  so I've been asking, a long time now

  and it seems I'm still waiting,

  in the global queue, so to speak!

  I know the answers exist, within or without,

  they're not really veiled or tricky,

  but will I fully understand this time?

  Or have to experience another turn

  of this earthly Ferris wheel?

  Time is like a hound on my trail

  and I'd very much like this to be

  the last train out!

  The Military

  The military, as depicted by

  its glossy ads:

  as a great profession to get into,

  of perks, bonuses, promotions and perhaps

  a diploma or two for later use

  Ah, the good life beckons.

  Can a license to commit mass murder

  be called a noble profession?

  why give soldiers medals

  and call them heroes

  after killing innocent people

  in some foreign land?

  After blasting the earth

  and destroying the environment?

  Heroes, indeed! Who did they kill for?

  The multinational corporation's profits;

  for money, for numbers... for nothing

  and when they return home

  will they find that life here

  has substantially improved?

  Heroes? No.

  At best: fools; at worst: psychopaths.

  Early Morning

  Early morning by the river,

  the sun rises;

  it's warmth touches my face,

  like a kiss... I think of Tara,

  how I long to be with her,

  to touch her soft skin;

  caress her hair.

  I know she is miles from here,

  not sure where,

  and the pain of knowing that

  cuts like a knife through my heart.

  Do I wish she didn't wander?

  Do I want her for myself alone?

  A gust of wind touches my face

  as the tip of her finger.

  I know she is here with me,

  that her shared love is true

  and I must remember

  she is free to ride any wild wind

  of her choosing or making;

  free to indulge her fancy.

  I can never claim her as mine,

  and like her, I am free to love another

  but that is difficult

  for Tara seems to be the only woman

  who wants me just the way I am.

  Although it burns

  not seeing her luscious form,

  or exploring her divine body,

  it gives me a certain joy

  knowing a man somewhere

  may be having the best sex of his life.

  I will see her again when she returns

  and she will awaken my passion

  as only she can.

  Empty Hands

  Time slips inexorably

  from my empty hands;

  life ebbs away;

  understanding flees.

  Life propels me forth;

  I move as blind,

  my future hidden

  in clouds of doubt.

  How will I ever know

  if I have found

  the river of life

  dissipating slowly

  in the sea of dreams,

  If I cannot dispel

  this darkness?

  "Life, why don't you stand still

  and give me time to think?"

  Fields Of Dreams

  As dandelion seed-heads

  blowing seeds over the land,

  creative thoughts

  scatter to change the world.

  Freely across the surface of the earth

  they spread in whispering breezes

  of changing times.

  Wherever fertile soil is found

  they spring,

  create new worlds

  filled with hope within new hearts.

  Of the thought creators,

  These are the ones

  who long to walk

  their fields of dreams.

  To Change The World

  Can one person change the world?

  Can one simple idea?

  There are those on this world

  who bring about such change,

  who live simplicity in joy:

  quiet, steady as the stars

  in the night sky - points of light

  shining bright, not unto themselves;

  There are those whose heart

  is vast and open as the ocean;

  of gentle word and soft mien,

  a haven for those who hurt.

  There are those whose mind

  is
like a mountain ringed with clouds:

  whose thoughts are noble and wise;

  who have the spirit of an eagle;

  who remain graceful and free

  in the face of adversity

  You will not find them in the temples

  nor in the high places of power;

  their faces do not grace the TV screen,

  or fill pages in magazines.

  Lucky are you to recognize one,

  wise are you to emulate one.

  And how do you find such a one?

  Just look deep within.

  The Unfolding

  Do not kill me

  for I am not made

  of such substance you dream of...

  Do not kill me

  for my life does not reside

  where you think it does...

  Do not kill me

  for if you believe you had

  I would only be

  another burden,

  another load,

  another you!

  Freed for a moment,

  my spirit would slip

  inside your mind:

  it would then have

  to serve us both.

  Think about the conflicts

  resulting of such a union:

  wouldn't it be better to wait

  for the unfolding of time?

  To The End Of The Universe

  There is a bus

  going to the end of the Universe,

  I hear they're holding a conference there

  on some small planet.

  The agenda is about violence,

  how to stop the killings, the wars

  and the corruption in high places

  that ignites and condones

  violence in all its forms.

  I hear they are seeking representatives

  from all the worlds

  still mired in violence;

  first hand input

  from perpetrator and victim -

  of course, Earth is invited.

  They wish to make it known

  that the best tools against violence

  are (as is so often forgotten)

  compassion and cooperation.

  I'm heading for the bus stop

  this morning;

  I figure I could be a delegate.

  Will I be waiting alone?

  To Vote Or Not To...

  Vote! vote! vote! vote!!!

  the scampering madmen scream

  from the TV's confused screen

  and I too want to scream:

  get out! get out! get out!

  thieves, robbers, liars all!

  I can't help but ask myself

  why should I vote for packs of fools?

  Is one set of clowns and crooks

  better than another in your book?

  Why would I want to play their game?

  Do I only exist to give these arses

  what's left of credibility

  since they have none of their own?

  I won't! I won't! I won't! vote!

  I have nothing left to give you

  thieves and scoundrels all!

  Get out of my face and out of my life

  and quit pretending you want to give me

  something for nothing,

  when I already know it is I

  who always gives everything

  and get nothing back: your endless lies

  have reached rock bottom here!

  In politics, there's nothing new

  under anything at all...

  TV Ads

  Businesses jockey for ad space

  on prime time T.V,

  in hope they can con you to buy their brand of junk,

  good or bad, true or false: all's fair in that game!

  Do they really think humans are that