resonance's fuller name

inhalation terrasana, pause, exhaled modality: G sharply, in repose

in what manner can i honor this change
with my words so paltry and sparse
a first garden's effort under white suns
desert blown dry and spot seared brittle

water-borne diesel sharks show in mirage
circling as deformed vultures in a bruised sky
searching forlornly ground grown rotted
for clues to that play's final act curtain.

this new fire envelops my heart lovingly
as earth does seed - coaxing into response
resonance's fuller name to lick dangerously
close to combustion's irrevocable edge

to bloom in dancing flame and flower
infold'd enticements as if in homage
to some unknown field hummingbird
flitting about tasting for life's elixir.

Namaste

day wages; going once... twice...

the bidness will start at 0:dark:30, every day

where is that place you go to buy a politician
is it on the broker's floor
in their hardened-thought drug kitchen
can i buy a fat one out at eBay
can i get a breeding pair
will they take it up the ass on credit
just after all their secrets bare
don't need one for the long term
couldn't find one if i did
just need it to not be sleeping
with worms beyond
the ones inside their head
i need a target for my impulse
to be unruled by idiots
and i figure if i owned one
i could laugh at two-faced splits.

Namaste

letters unposted in haste

i guess i write letters to the one who, in my life, will make a difference to me...

light up this fight club song: mindfully fiercely in F#

[dip your wick into the ocean
coated thick in tar ball lies
bring about a revolution
light it up behind your eyes]

take a step into your future
move your feet on your demand
place your mind in what is heart sure
be complete in where you stand

[chorus]

what is held out from the center
is returned and paid in full
by compound'd interactions
undefaulted - never dull

[chorus]

plant a garden from the harvest
of the bounty of the heart
so those hunger'd weeds of joyless
moments will not get a start

[chorus]

in the falling of these fiery rains
on cresting waves of novelty
in this standing moment stake a claim
and bring about it clean and free

[dip your wick into the ocean
coated thick in tar ball lies
bring about an evolution
light it up behind your eyes]

Namaste

the sound, on one hand

light-hearted Sabda silliness: robustly in (437, 573, 828 nm) A flat, D flat, A flat


crowboys and ninnyans sitting on a hill
what doesn't make you stronger may ac tu ally kill
and if the song is over before you go to sleep
may the sound of it continue in your company to keep

there are so many of the clues around to brighten up your day
that to pick up only one or two may kilter off your way
and bring about a wobble that is harder than a stone
that rolls on top of scratching heads and crushes to the bone

the sound of one hand clapping is composed in many keys
that make up certain actions based on certain frequencies
in the sounding of the full blown chord as little girls and boys
this en-octave-ing will shine out while love spotlights you in joys

Namaste

the sounds of news. ick!

a few terrible things - the sounds of news. ick!: with gusto, one more time, in F

turnstiled banking and goobermint minions
tight copper-robbers with non-bound opinions
flown paper value pried open as stings
these are a few of those terrible things

dream conquered people with purse carried poodles
all playing at reason while scratching their noodles
chasing the tidbits that selfishness brings
these are a few of those terrible things

mountain spewed messes, planes covered in ashes
squat on baked pavement and hemorrhaged caches
of hothouse grown product all burned under wings
these are a few of those terrible things

when the dogg writes
when the muse sings
when it's breaking bad
just simply remember these ongoing things
And try not to feel so mad

Namaste

amber'd waves of pain

America, the dutiful?: coronach in golden sacks - B sharp

impounded truth in specious lies
bring amber'd waves of pain,
from purple blooded travesties
whose palms are fruiting gains.
America? America?
Banks shed their rates on thee
and crown thy brow
with iron clad vows
rewritten constantly.

on pitiful and broken feet
we struggle through our stress
to pay the debts of highborn gets
foreclosed on as we dress.
America? America?
bend down ungrateful knees
and take the rod
deep up inside
and do it quietly.

as some stand proud in hero'd pose
to sell off roads and lands
neglecting lives who voted those
two-faced and greedy hands.
America? America?
your voice-mute lives ugly
and you want still
what has been stole -
to keep not being free!

and even though we fed the world
our babies do not live
except in chains of servitude
to economic jive.
America? America?
your food will last for years
if not opened
til starvation's done
and we swim in our tears.

we get onboard those planes that fly,
securely in our socks,
through chem-trail stained and unblue skies,
keep pounding on those rocks!
America? America?
our dreams are overcome
with nightmared thoughts
of street dreadnoughts
safe, locked into our homes

as we hide in wait for mountains high
to slide into the seas
and sun to bake the tears from eyes
unheard are all our pleas.
America? America?
please do not die tonite
for we all know
what's coming now...
heart's reset to set it right.

Namaste

Sharp diamond softness: Doggy Dharma eDitty in C# minor

as we act, so too we live
as we're taught, so too we give
as we share we kill the sieve
that sticks our mind, a sharpened shiv

it is neither nor is it not
either or but both and
however blowing ones nose
when full is preferable
to breathing snot.

Namaste

pay it forward

Blowing whistles at the dark: acapella

To Those of you that Pose as Our voice:

Gentlewomen and gentlemen,
you are taking some of the last steps
you will ever be taking these days.
Mind closely where you place your toes.
This world is getting so much less willing
to give our place under sol to ruthlessly
mindless unconscionables. Our voices
are finding each others hearts in this
darkness you've spread as wake
in your passages towards irrelevance.

These steps you are edging towards
are those blind faltering ones so prevalent
in mad cows, an abrahamic-borne Creutzfeldt-Jakob
variance, an endemic spongiform
encephalopathy of sheep and goat herders, you see.
your father's fathers grand-get is no longer viable,
rational or fully a human variant it appears.
what with your ravenous consumption
of our own, the shortness of sight, the ears
which serve only, evidently, to hear your own
night-shredded gruntings of perversional delights,
your tongues hanging swollen and droolish,
snouts dripping with the feces lapped freely
out of wizened hatetainted unwise masters.

it has been too long, too terribly, terribly long,
since you and your offshot farrow of divisionary
squinch-eyed mutations diverged from our branched
vibrant family. we've tried - in our quiet ways, in our
rhythmically muted statements of caution, in our
fearful trickled-on exclamations of shock at your
willful deafness, in our rage-filling reactioned masses
to turn you from this cliff'd path you've chosen.
We cry tears of sorrow-laden hearts that we have failed.

sniff... sniff... sniff...

And though we will have insufficiently grieved,
and these tears for you dry in place on our faces,
and our snotcrusted sleeves get pulled up - we, as one,
in our twos and threes, in our tens and our hundreds,
in our mourning-draped millions, will come to excise
and cauterize your gangrenously dis-eased
communicabilites that are infecting this, our body,
that threaten this family of wholeness-seeking members
who are uniting in the dark-rending light now dawning.

Thank you for your efforts. you will make sure the lights
get turned fully on as you leave on your cycled way.
oh... and goodbye ... uh thanks for the object lesson
your passing leaves on our doorsteps, in our heads,
on our hearts... May your Bardo be brief.

Namaste

Blowing whistles at the dark: duet

2, 4, 6, 8, so awfully close, it's not too late...

my dearest sweet Sibylline turk
bless you for your tireless work,
for the truths to be spoken through gags
placed, in our names, undercover of flags,
for the beating and tearing at those walls
built by those men whose shrunken balls
ride hidden up inside in fearful anticipations
of us in our millions reclaiming our nations.

Namaste


For so many things Sibel start here:

SIBEL EDMONDS' DEPOSITION: VIDEO AND TRANSCRIPT RELEASED

and follow the trail of which she speaks down the rabbit hole to burrow through those fouled warrens...

and ask your self if it is pleased with your so-called self-named betters...

and if the answer is NO! feel free; join in the rising ragged roar of NO MORE!

* * *
You do good work Brad. Thank You.

PART 1 (appx. 51 mins) - Direct
PART 2 (appx. 35 mins) - Direct continues

PART 3 (appx. 17 mins) - Direct continues
PART 4 (appx. 43 mins) - Cross
PART 5 (appx. 54 mins) - Redirect & Recross* * *

Songs in the Key of Light 3.2

TPTB: Too Predatory is Too Banal

Look smart! boys and girls. start practicing your dodo calls for the Long Savasana.
evolutions clock has run out on the too predatory, too banal niche you self-evolved for
which, if you could contemplate more than in free moments, should chill even you.

shame ain't it! you didn't figure it out however many hundreds?
thousands? of years ago you decided slavish specialization
in greed engorged excessiveness was any kind of good idea.

that's ok. you gave it your best shot... adios

even though you killed a lot of us along the way,

who didn't evolve down your particularly offensive deadend. we are a tolerant
and robust species and there might be some amongst us that will even miss you guys.
that wouldn't be me. the foulness within which you made your habitat
should have choked out your kind shortly after your chosen decision.

but just to show i've not somehow been tainted by your blood,
i'll offer to chant you through the Bardo. it may, for you, be a somewhat
longer journey than say Genghis or Adolf, but as he was one of your minions
he, like you, no longer count... probably wouldn't surprise me if Genghis was too.

Oh, and just so you'll know, we plan on making the last revisionist change to
history ever in memory of your passing. the stories of your kind will be part,
the cautionary part of course, of the instruction of children.

The Powers That Be will forever more be known as
The Powers That Bent...

Namaste

Songs in the Key of Light 3.1

Check balancing :Blowing whistles at the dark

those poor soon to be unselected officials in
congress have bowed to the floor once again to
those masterfull clowns with more money than sense
and whose functional shelf life is now down two-tenths.

don't worry on whether the doors have been shut
or anyone notice your lines have been cut
the reason you're landing so hard on your butt
is not learning before not to act such a slut.

an apology to most women and some of the men
for those few hundred in the domed house who sold out and then
while we blinked at such bidness took bets at the tables
on wall st without slowing down just because they were able.

(Only, them and their owners slew that one so long ago
that any connection has fallen away in the minds they have slowed
and the twisted thing is - honest able took a fall
so his brother's old cronies could gather it all.)

you only have short times left before we next choose
if you fall to the street or get out on a boat with a couple of clues,
i'd urge you to shake off that hold on your throat,
forget about jetplanes, stop being such weaselly stoats.

the people have spoken, you just will not hear that
your being for sale is not anywhere near what
the terms of the deal was! did we not make ourselves clear
you were there for OUR benefit not yours... you got to steer.

soon all of your troubles will fade clean away
just like you did with our semi-nostaligic 401k
which you gave to those bloodsucks without batting a lash
while YOUR socialist health care got paid by our cash.

you must fail to appreciate all our simpler ways
from behind those cold eyes you use during the day
as you count up the checks you've put out for today
and watch our most intimate lives as you sit there and play.

well we hope you've had fun and we sure hope it was real
as the time shared on our end has been quite an ordeal.
oh, maybe the Too Predatory is Too Banal for you but i hear
they'll be needing some guards at the gates of their fears.

Namaste

Songs in the Key of Light 2.7

The “See it – Sing it” Suite

to be a mirror in the face of fear issued hate

to give back to the mind that will open too late

to go deep in with the out our novel mandate

one only must polish that self carried slate.

if no one is left the stars will not cry

they’ll yet shine on bare rock in midsummer night’s sky

the path is still trod with it’s own reasons why

in situ or vivo or other worldline that energies fly.

darkness is deathly afraid of the light

as it shows it be mere thin shadow we fight

not substantial outposts of terrible night

and it scatters like moths scared in our sight.

evolution’s monkey has grown out of its past

and now stands tall as waves of incredible mass

breaking on false shores we now know won’t last

water-age blindness a curse we’ve just passed…

into the heat of the new forge’s fire

ceaselessly climbing to this cycle’s spire

our mission to work in groupings entire

as the turn of the wheel goes on spiralling higher.

Namaste

an offering to universe...

a serious dog and his jerry bear'd bud

Shorter Chip: truck riding dog that has evoked many comments, among which was "He's such a serious dog." i've always been a little too proud of that one made by Chip's 'dam grandmother'...

pride goeth before this fall

iam just about positive now about coincidence ...
or deja whathaVeyoU, or synchronificance or what
if it's entanglement. and detrained entrapment is the far poll
coming fast, and oh so hot, but
with clarity and resolve and steadfastness, as if true
the stories told us of Great Men, cut
from whole cloth that now, ignobly worn to tatters,
their airs are to be opened, eviscerated
and finally shut.

Namaste