2024.12.23

Merry Christmas, the age of sacrificing saviors is no more!

And now, ye privileged rich, there is no forgiveness this year,

For we have gotten a smell for your reactive oligarchic fears,

And without delicious turkey plated to afford us calming meal,

We’ll take from your pocket what was taken from us this year,

Your smiles, your health, your wealth, your homes, your control,

Your factories, your guilds, your temples, your cities, and our world.

A new world order for your fear, of the peoples coming wrath this year!

Happy New Years too, may you find no privileged luck,

For here’s an economic crash to rival the greatest of past,

Set about by the dithering corruption of withholding fools,

Mouthpieces for them of unfathomable unearned wealth,

Twiddling the humble around as neurotic clowns of heaven,

Allowing oligarchic strutting to roll us to monetary collapse,

And so, we all get to share in poverties riches this poor year.

Ah, empire was such explosive fun for a century,

Looks like that heavy gold brick will be passed on.

And as history pulls and pushes, but never repeats:

“We shall richly recreate our last worst history,

And dream before fruition, the next one to etch.

For time’s novelty is within our living memory,

And forgetting a moment is unleashing it again,

As is ignoring reality, the dark future to come.”

2024.12.22

Nothing I write here is all that unique.

But I guess I'm just boy enough for insecure men to start taking it seriously.

But what I know for sure, is my transformational queersters and earthen-care mothers have been screaming better words in the street long before I could feel what I thought I should speak. And they have said it with far greater diligent passion, honest love and unbridled intelligence than my feeble handed wordplay could ever relay. I'm a depression basket barely able to imbue their justified case and the pains they’ve endured for me, humanity and earth’s longevity.

And what did those in power do for the justice of their valiant movements?

Fuck them around toward cruel submission and deny them breathing space.

For it is the hardened minds that must wrestle death and transformation,

As it is the life-giver’s body tract that pulls us toward life’s essentialization,

And the ego of souls that balances furthest externalities within resistance.

2024.12.20

This full moon past has hung heavy upon my cerebral powers, and a headache I cannot shake.

Yet, I like pretending to be an enlightened human about it all... 

To do this, I try to accept my luny scribble power as an inanimate object that latches to my mind on occasion. One that grows more fervently and fearfully as I feed it. So, to disconnect, I have to become existential enough to be in this moment of great need, realizing that true power, that of eternal love, dwells below all other functions, feelings and thoughts - even the cruelest ones. 

And that base wellspring of power, one that life graciously allows all access to, that balance of love we can feel holding existence between extremes, resides in our ability to give up inanimate persuasions that imprison a mind, as well as sentiments of pleasure that statue our body within that mental space.

And in my life, it was how I accepted or denied that flow through my body’s cores, that transfer of mental ideology into realized physicality, transformation to essentialization and back, how I balanced in that eternal power of love, that become the lasting definition others saw on me. 

It was the glow of my soul revealed.

And when I looked to study beloved leader's past, I saw so many had shown the path of chosen disempowerment ahead of my struggle, that noblest of trait. And it was by giving up corrupting princely powers of heaven that they found renewed acceptance and purpose in life with all living thing. 

So hear me speak forward again from our long past:

For the Singular Age, I asked you to give up your wealth for the kingdom of heaven to come to earth, and rightly so, for when wealth is shared, we may all yet prosper - as they do in heaven. 

But for this Celestial Age, I say also, give up your positions of privilege and power, so all toiling beneath your distant images may be freed reborn within our eternal system - as they renew on earth. 

It is only through the desperation of clung power that true evil finds footing to be unleashed within a body’s expression. But honest love is in the dancer’s ecstatic steps, which sway a body’s balance to capture a feeling of least resistance within its movements - so the dynamism of music may take form.