I dream of a Star Trek world. This think tank will focus on creative actions
designed to initiate a global paradigm shift towards a world where racism, poverty
and war will be a thing of the past.
I wasn’t a misogynist but
I liked being
alone.
It felt good to sit alone in a
small space and smoke and drink.
I
had always been
good company for myself.”
â
Time is the fire in which we burn.”
Time is the fire in which we burn.”
Now droops the milk-white peacock like a ghost,
And like a ghost she glimmers on to me.
Now lies the Earth all Danaë to the stars,
And all thy heart lies open unto me.
Now slides the silent meteor on, and leaves
A shining furrow, as thy thoughts in me.
Now folds the lily all her sweetness up,
And slips into the bosom of the lake.
So fold thyself, my dearest, thou, and slip
Into my bosom and be lost in me.
By Alfred, Lord Tennyson
the wind, the ocean shores, the stones,
knowing they will go on, inert or burning,
and I was discovering, naming all these things:
it was my destiny to love and say goodbye.”
“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he soughtâ
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! and through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
“And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
He chortled in his joy.
‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
…..Jabberwocky by Lewis Carroll…..
‘Terrorist’ is just a word, one I wish I’d never heard
When it’s used to vilify, without the need to question why
Only fools would swift condemn, that which has not befallen them
Until you know what lies behind, the actions of a tortured mind
Thank your God for sparing you, the suffering others have lived through
Where are the cries of just demand, for Arabs driven from their land?
Blame the victim, turn the cheek, praise the bully, kick the weak!
Mock the man who truth does speak
Tinker, tailor, soldier, spy, greed, corruption, torture, lies!
Blair invasion, sly persuasion, annihilation, massacred nation
Keep on running, karma’s coming!
Money talks, truth walks, oil spills, greed kills
Tide is turning, London’s burning!
Bombs will fall and blood will flow, as sure as my own name I know
Until corrupt dictators go, brutal, rotten, to the core
Their day has come, they rule no more
Show me the man who will not fight, to save his child, his home, his right!
You can call him what you like, you’re not in his sorry plight
Cowards stay and Martyrs go, I know not where, but this I know
Speak your truth and stand your ground, fight your corner
When all around, point the finger, purse the lips, pin the label, ‘Terrorist’!
Just a word, but one that sticks, even when the cap don’t fit
But for the grace of God go I, remember that, before you cry
False accusation, names of shame, at those who may not be to blame,
Their crime, refused to play the game, of meek acceptance, dumbing down,
Your life, your choice; Warrior / Clown
Mistah Kurtzâhe dead.
A penny for the Old Guy
I
We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or ratsâ feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar
Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;
Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to deathâs other Kingdom
Remember usâif at allânot as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
The stuffed men.
II
Eyes I dare not meet in dreams
In deathâs dream kingdom
These do not appear:
There, the eyes are
Sunlight on a broken column
There, is a tree swinging
And voices are
In the windâs singing
More distant and more solemn
Than a fading star.
Let me be no nearer
In deathâs dream kingdom
Let me also wear
Such deliberate disguises
Ratâs coat, crowskin, crossed staves
In a field
Behaving as the wind behaves
No nearerâ
Not that final meeting
In the twilight kingdom
III
This is the dead land
This is cactus land
Here the stone images
Are raised, here they receive
The supplication of a dead manâs hand
Under the twinkle of a fading star.
Is it like this
In deathâs other kingdom
Waking alone
At the hour when we are
Trembling with tenderness
Lips that would kiss
Form prayers to broken stone.
IV
The eyes are not here
There are no eyes here
In this valley of dying stars
In this hollow valley
This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms
In this last of meeting places
We grope together
And avoid speech
Gathered on this beach of the tumid river
Sightless, unless
The eyes reappear
As the perpetual star
Multifoliate rose
Of deathâs twilight kingdom
The hope only
Of empty men.
V
Here we go round the prickly pear
Prickly pear prickly pear
Here we go round the prickly pear
At five oâclock in the morning.
Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom
Between the conception
And the creation
Between the emotion
And the response
Falls the Shadow
Life is very long
Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom
For Thine is
Life is
For Thine is the
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.
all of us,
what a circus !
but it doesn’t.
“How to be perfect” by Ron Padgett
get some sleep
eat an orange every morning
be friendly it will help make you happy
hope for everything…expect nothing
take care of things close to home first
straighten up your room before you save the world
then, save the world
be nice to people before they have the chance to behave badly
wear comfortable shoes
do not spend too much time with large groups of people
plan your day so you never have to rush
show your appreciation to people who do things for you
even if you have paid them…even if they do favors you don’t want
after dinner wash the dishes
calm down
don’t expect your children to love you so they can if they want to
don’t be too self critical or too self congratulatory
don’t think that progress exists…it doesn’t
imagine what you would like to see happen
and then don’t do anything to make it impossible
forgive your country every once in a while
if that is not possible…go to another one
if you feel tired…rest
don’t be depressed about growing older
it will make you feel even older which is depressing
if you burn your finger put ice on it immediately
if you bang your finger with a hammer hold your hand in the air for twenty minutes
you’ll be surprised by the curative powers of ice and gravity
do not inhale smoke…take a deep breath
do not smart off to a policeman
be good
be honest with yourself, diplomatic with others
do not go crazy a lot its a waste of time
drink plenty of water…when asked what you would like to drink say “water please”
take out the trash
love life
use exact change
when there’s shooting in the street don’t go near the window
Why I am silent, silent for too much time,
how much is clear and we made it
in war games, where, as survivors,
we are just the footnotes.
That is the claimed right to the formal preventive aggression
which could erase the Iranian people
dominated by a bouncer and moved to an organized jubilation,
because in the area of his competence there is
the construction of the atomic bomb.
And then why do I avoid myself
to call the other country with its name,
where since years â even if secretly covered –
there is an increasing nuclear power,
without control, because unreachable
by every inspection?
I feel the everybody silence on this state of affairs,
which my silence is slave to,
as an oppressive lie and an inhibition that presents punishment
we donât pay attention to;
the verdict âanti-Semitismâ is common.
Now, since my country,
from time to time touched by unique and exclusive crimes,
obliged to justify itself,
again for pure business aims – even if
with fast tongue we call it âreparationâ –
should deliver another submarine to Israel,
with the specialty of addressing
annihilating warheads where the
existence of one atomic bomb is not proved
but it wants evidence as a scarecrow,
I say what must be said.
Why did I stay silent until now?
Because the thought about my origin,
burdened by an unclearing stain,
had avoiding to wait this fact
like a truth declared by the State of Israel
that I want to be connected to.
Why did I say it only now,
old and with the last ink:
the nuclear power of Israel
threat the world peace?
Because it must be said
what tomorrow will be too late;
Because – as Germans and with
enough faults on the back –
we might also become deliverers of a predictable
crime, and no excuse would erase our complicity.
And I admit: I wonât be silent
because I had enough of the Western hypocrisy;
Because I wish that many will want
to get rid of the silence,
exhorting the cause of a recognizable
risk to the abdication, asking that a free and permanent control
of the Israel atomic power
and the Iran nuclear bases
will be made by both the governments
with an international supervision.
Only in this way, Israelis, Palestinians, and everybody,
all people living hostile face to face in that
country occupied by the craziness,
will have a way out,
so us too.
