Little Sips of Love

Posted on 9th March 2014 in Poetry

there is no word in any language
for the way the words
everything is sacred
came
out of your lips
as I drank ice from your mouth
you
on top of me

something between a whisper
a moan a stutter of your heart
like your are riding to a wild death
the path of closest approach
to ecstatic beautality

and poetry of course
complete with
fully orchestrated
signopated muscle twerks
the ring finger neurotically
in spasm like cymbal
left hand clawing at my chest
like a cat weening
the milk it never got

you hips and vagina
sliding across mine
like the bassoon and double bass
keeping a low profile
under the unwinding
of the violence pizzicato
played by your hair

and the poetry of course
you whisper into my ear
about your visions
of fire, destruction, rain
cities caving in on themselves
the mutiny of feral animals
reclaiming terra nullius

red sky and black skin
finding their way back
to suns to make new life
in the next trilenium
fucking god themself
come down to clean up the mess
start all over again

as I slide out from
into you and under you
for a new position in the sky
caught
in each others gravitation field
ellipses eclipsing lips and asses
swimming in sweat
sperm and leucorrhoea
as the orchestra winds down
the poetry deflates
beneath your panting
and we all go home

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The Last Revolution on Earth

Posted on 4th March 2014 in Notes, Reflections, Self Determination

Foreword: I want to be perfectly clear, since I’ve already lost a few friends over this prelude to a short story, that I am in perfect health (to the best of my knowledge). This piece is a back-handed thank you for all of the well wishes I’ve received for completing another revolution around the sun; it is a call to loving arms of non-violent popular resistance of internal revolution – a transformation of self loathe to self love so that all of us can begin to do the dirty work of loving everything around us from seven generations into the past into the future. Aho Mitakye Oyasin – All of my relations.

*      *      *

Preludium

It will come as no surprise to you, in the most general sense, that we are all mortal. You will die to feed the crumbling Earth. You’ve seen your parents go. An occasional sibling or friend carved out of the picture a little sooner than you expected. You mourn and you carry on with all of life’s enticements, distractions and the things we dedicate ourselves to under the impression that it makes a difference for the general state of affairs on Earth: ease the pain maybe for some or increase the level of violence and destruction for others depending on what your god sanctioned or how brutally you were raped of your capacity for compassion and empathy. So how will you deal with this news I am about to tell you.

This is my last revolution on Earth – around the sun. I didn’t chose to be here – to the best of my knowledge and recollection – to begin with. And I certainly was hoping I might have the opportunity to die healthy in some field in Upstate NY laying in a bed of sweet grass, heather, bedstraw, cleavers, clover and queen anne’s lace. Maybe I’ll make it back there in time. Maybe time will take me back before I get to kiss my sweet friends goodbye, visit the burial sites of my family who, too, were taken too soon or gave of themselves the ultimate sacrifice out of humiliation before the eyes of the divine. In my case, it will be a creeping death until I can’t take it anymore and decide to end my life when the pain becomes unbearable. When my disease ridden body can no longer maintain its physical integrity and I start bleeding from the inside out, my flesh rotting, my friends and family – the few left, can no longer bear to look at me when their suffering becomes greater than mine.

I’m telling you this because I want you to know that I love you. I have always loved you and was too afraid to express it. I was unable to share with you my deepest feelings and desires of love. Had I been bold enough and, maybe, not struggling with mixed messages of superiority and utter inadequacy I would have given of myself selflessly as I had always felt the need to do. As I have always felt compelled to overlook any intrusion of fear and simply give of myself what I wanted to give to you without inhibitions as to how you might perceive what is really nothing but generosity. Yet this sort of giving, this style of generosity is biblical and has no place in a modern western society where big brother is too busy watching us watching him watching us missing the point. Love has no place in a world phased on egotistical projections of narcissistic assholes whose inculcation was a message of rape, estrangement, dispossession disguised behind the mighty dollar and dogmatic regimes.

I realize I sound cynical, angry, twisted and without love or joy and this might well be true as I have spent my life learning and teaching compassion with the realization that we are all subject to the very same conditions and that the very core of our humanity is comprised of a simultaneity of utter despair and confusion of being too scared and afraid to accept what we know as deeply imprinted in our DNA and superficially masked by any number of devices we’ve designed for ourselves to pretend there is anything divine in existence- our existence. Our mortal existence. Yet I know there is not one soul among you who can look me in the eye and pretend that you know anything other than the fact that what we do here on this earth, how we live, and how we die, stays here. Unlike me, you shall have to mourn my death as I will be leaving here relatively soon. I will not mourn your death. I mourn the lives of those of you too scared and to traumatized to let go of the language that enslaves you in the cowards dream; in the oppressors nightmare that was created for you that you somehow came to believe. Even those of you who challenged the nightmare were still owned by it. You should have walked away smiling without a fight leaving the perpetrator to languish alone.

I can say that I’m happy to be leaving and if I had the courage I would do it now but after what I’ve been through and, more importantly, what those few remaining family members have witnessed and what my dear friends have each suffered alone, I don’t feel its right to put that burden on them – on you. Indeed, this letter is enough of a suicide threat to bring some to their knees and I don’t want to be responsible for any ones suffering as I have lived a life trying to avoid that: causing the direct or proxy suffering of any living being that wasn’t for the sole purpose of my sustenance and vitality. Now things are quite different and I don’t have a great deal of time to fret about niceties and to ponder ad nauseum what the right thing to do is based on every ones unique experiences and perceptions dancing on a mantle of thin ice for a race of people who will no doubt cross the finish line huffing, bleeding, drowning in their own love and loathe; your own. I know some of you get it and will read this farewell note as the blessing I intend it to be, seeing through the words themselves to embrace the essence of our collective mortality as something to dance macabre.

In reality this is a call to action. Not for me. I’m cool with my fate but I’m tired of your cowardice. I’m tired of watching people when they are needed the most to give of themselves shut down and close off to the people who are asking in silence to come to their rescue, to come to caress them in their time of greatest need when they are most vulnerable and feel most humiliated when their vision degenerates, when they become incontinent, invalid, and too damned ashamed to expose their base humanity as a result of foolish pride and vanity that we re somehow supposed to die a glorious and beautiful death that when we’re lain in our caskets people will tell us we look peaceful knowing full well that is only what they, what you, hope for yourself. That you will suck it up and live as a slave to anything that will buy you out of your inability to simply shed all of the mythos that drives your subconscious and steers you like a dangling marionette – a hollow ghost of the would be you that is both raging inside against the injustice teeming around you as you are cowered underneath your manger hiding from both the brutal warlord and the fanatic revolutionary.

Think about it. My fate is sealed. I will not be here for you to love or to hate within six months time and you will, like you have your grandparents, your heroes, untold child victims of war, forget not about me, but about yourself. You will forget that you are not living as a brave. That you are not living as this day meant something more than fulfilling some bogus mandate carved out for you by heartless oppressors. That beyond the dome above your head there is an infinity without questions or answers or meaning except what you decide for yourself and the rest them/us. Or will you?

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Zatar the Invincible

Posted on 26th February 2014 in Self Determination

Prelude

 

He died no noble death like his enemies or the people who made him. That’s what they would have wanted for even the cruelest of villains had some twisted sense of honor encoded into their DNA, their wiring, or whatever fluid dynamics kept their heart beating and the juices flowing. Zatar died no death at all – he was invincible. You could remove the Earth from under his feet and he would land; take up residence on a molecule of your human dust. You could blast him with the hugest of weapons that the evil empire could dream up. You could entice him with the sweetest of women in all of God’s creation and he would not falter. No, he was invincible. It appeared that his designers crafted him such that any attempt to weaken him only made him stronger. To defy his very existence was a death wish – a signature on your suicide note. And, like all heroes, people feared him.

 

Don’t get me wrong, it was not the same fear as the fear of god almighty herself. The sounds and songs belted out of the minarets did not change their tunes. Not a soul worshiped him. Not an army warshiped him. He was not an immortal. He was not man nor machine. He was not spirit, ethereal, the formed formless or otherwise. He defied description as his maker had planned and took on whatever characteristics you feared the most. If you lived an honest decent life you had nothing to fear. If you were unsure and unaware he crept into your waking visions and sleeping dreams and your life became a living hell. How does righteous benevolence, then, come to torment the better part of a species on a small sphere beyond what any empire has come to concoct in the whole of human history?

 

Some came to call him Gaia – the world mind. It wasn’t as if he knew your thoughts and could single you out amongst a crowd. It was not that he could cast a mighty shadow on the land or raise the winds to topple any structure in his path. He was no spy. He had no ability to even indicate his presence around you. So from where, then, comes his prowess?

 

It was said that he united all of humankind – not against some common enemy dreamt up by the evil empire who was coming to invade your land, steal your house, persecute you for possessing the wrong dogmatic divine. Nor was it that he had any religion of his own to offer. No scriptures promising a place in heaven. No rituals to prevent your descent to hell. No weapons strapped on his back to blast you to smithereens like the former governments of Earth who reigned under a rain of fire during the last wars that decimated humans, almost scorched the earth bare of its inhabitants for all time. No, Zatar was no malevolent force. He was not created to destroy yet his effects were devastating should you not be leading an ethical life of empathy and compassion.

 

Guilt, you are thinking. This is what Zatar represents. The innate human awareness of right and wrong, good and evil. So when we act in discord with our core temperament we suffer internally. When we suffer internally it effects our relationship with ourselves, our relationships with family and society at large, the environment and the divine. This, however, is not the case. Guilt is a human emotion; a man made sentiment. To characterize something transcendent of human existence but outside of the realm of God is fallacious and will lead to nothing good. Further, to say that anything or anyone represents anything but itself is to take it out of its own context, to project an identity onto something – to miss the very essence of its creation and presence.

 

This is the story of Zatar the invincible. No doubt you have heard of him for he is legendary in most contemporary mythos and, of course, for anyone whose heart and mind are open to the spirit that flows through all things, you already have an intimate relationship with him. In any case, what you are about to read about the history and legacy of Zatar the Invincible will shake the very foundations of your existence and remake the person you are.

 

 

 

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Pre Occupation of the Heart: I

Posted on 16th February 2014 in Poetry

what did they do to you that you forgot how to love
toxic mimic of life’s blood flowing
father to mother to child unafraid to care
no battle scars no warning cries
just lies that fed your dreams
that you would sell your brother to slavery
bury your unborn bulldozed
bludgeon beautiful baby
in her sweet mothers arms
claim you’re the victim
under your iron dome
claim you’re the victor
over swirls of white phoshor
stealing the dessert wasteland for
what they did do to you that you forgot how to love
beyond rapproachment
you orgasm when the bullet hits the bone

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Immodest Proposal

Posted on 6th February 2014 in Peace, Reflections, Self Determination

Due to the longevity of the Israeli Palestinian conflict and the obvious lack of political will mixed with sheer political ineptitude – on a global scale, really – to properly transform the situation (at least to enforce international law) I’ve come up with a somewhat absurd partial solution towards transforming and transcending the conflict. The idea itself is nothing new – I’m not that creative or knowledgeable about the shituation: the boundaries of Israel and the Occupied Palestinian Territories will be combined into a bi-national state. There are many reasons why this is favorable for Israelis, Palestinians and Peace (the rest of us) and that complex of simple reasons emerges as the answer to the following question: what would a Palestinian state of scattered and segregated lands look like as a result of settlements, the wall, and the harsh economic, political and military sanctions driving the Palestinians into a fragmented and isolated society?

In any case, my level, or style if you will, of creativity is in the naming of this new nation; a new name that will satisfy both cultures: PalIstein/stien. Its construction is obvious taking the first three letters of the word Palestine, the first two letters of Israel, and then changing the “stine” of Palestine into “stein/stien” so that it resonates with the suffix of many Jewish peoples names,  yet the pronunciation could be in dispute as to whether there is a hard “e” vowel sound or a hard “i” vowel sound (which, no doubt, would make Palestinians smile, even though it was at the sacrifice of switching the “e” in the English spelling of their countries name with the “i”, capitalized, from the English spelling of Israel). One country, one name with two pronunciations and still something to fight about.

As one nation, there will be a shared economy, a shared political system, shared roadways, shared schools, and above all and encompassing all, equality as citizens and all of the benefits that come with getting to know and love your neighbor. No doubt it will take a generation or two (or seven) to work things out, but under the current circumstances there is such a limited cultural exchange because of the inability of Palestinians and Israelis to freely move from the OPTs to the NonOPTs as well as the taboo of normalization for Pals to engage with Izzies in any way that legitimizes the regime of inequality. Since the respective and collective governments who are stakeholders in this process have proven incapable of establishing equality this task will have to be accomplished by Israeli and Palestinian civil societies who will, themselves, have to transcend the walls of normalization and the convolution of victim and perpetrator.

In addition to a new name, one other important piece of propaganda is essential to forging a new common narrative: a banner. At first thought it would be interesting to have a two faced flag with the Israeli flag on one side and the Palestinian flag on the other but after some immodest consideration I’m thinking the flag should be  a screen playing pixelated permutations of both flags along with other randomly generated visualizations. Let’s leave it at that.

For now, changing the name and flying the first kaleidobanner is enough. When people get use to seeing and hearing these new implants, civil society will begin to change and, again, in a generation or two when all of the old school dogmaticians die off, peace will begin to flourish. Let freedom reign. Pass the felafel, please.

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On the Right to Legal Vegetable-hood(edness)

Posted on 24th January 2014 in Reflections, Self Determination, Theory

I have debated such things with some of my vegan friends: should vegetables be given legal person-hood? Of course, an affirmative is founded in vegetable sentience. If vegetables are sentient, then they, according to the UN charter, have the right to self-determine. I ask myself then, should Palestinians not have the right to legal vegetable-hood. Yes, it sounds stupid to even think of at first bite, but if you peel of the skin and pith you begin to realize that the whole idea of legal person-hood is speciesist and we would serve the unambiguous idiology of justice to question the language we bow to.

 

“But vegetables don’t have neurons” is a common argument for why its ok to eat vegetables and not ok to eat animals. For me, survival is a good reason to eat, period. It’s not what you eat, its why you eat it and where it comes from. That’s my parable paradigm. What is yours? Because plants don’t have the same structures humans do to conduct information is no good cause to assume they don’t have some apparatus to conduct information from one place to another, register it, respond to it – in some cases to engage or avoid things we associate with pleasure or pain.

 

I know humans are still struggling with legal person-hood for any other-than human species. To ask people to accept monkeys and turtles as people is asking a lot. It is a big stretch of the moral imagination arc somewhere over the rainbow outside of the comfort zone of an identity that exists on its better-ness because of other-ness. Yet, within this context we can see that when it comes time to compare ourselves to wombats and groove billed anis, all of a sudden we are all one as a species and can stand together in solidarity (perhaps as a species belligerent occupant to the earth). This speciesist perspective is then a unifying cause to champion racism, nationalism and, in some very strange sense, is the cause celebre for championing human rights and equality under the law to all those currently under a belligerent occupancy or under and kind of enslavement be it physical or mental.

 

In any case, what I’m getting at here is that it is way beyond anyone’s intellectual capacity at this point to realize that we might well just apply rights universally to all living beings – make it a part of our common culture and enshrine it in international law. We can think of the right to self determine as universal – and I don’t mean just universal on the tiny universe of earth. I mean, since the universe is vast (don’t hurt yourself trying to think about it too much) and it is a commonly accepted belief (yes, so common that you believe it too, now) that life exists everywhere where it can and that requires two things: a percolating solution (in our case, water), and a thermal threshold for certain reactions to take place that are not inherent to the environment (solution). These conditions exist all over the place and so life exists all over the place. To think otherwise is foolish because it would set your beliefs outside of the norm of indigenous beliefs (which is, by definition, just one small part of being a fool).

 

Good, Now that we’re all on the same page page we can agree that the words are somewhat interchangeable. I now can claim I have the self evident right to legal kangaroo-hood. You, dear soul, can get down with your vegetables in a state of pure existential existence-hoodedness and, yes, the Palestinian people most certainly have the right to declare themselves as possessing the right to legal vegetable-hood. Why not?

 

Since corporations have such rights, too, they must have some homologous structure to a nervous system and, I suppose, a set of organs and systems complimenting all those structures necessary for survival. I can see it now, there will be fortune 500 companies filing for the right to legal asshole-hood.

Pass the hummus, please.

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