We’re in a dojo, don’t you know
We must always be braced for the down and low
We must always trust
Life will buoy us back up
We must stop pointing out
To look deep within
And unearth our power
Again and again
The greatest warriors ever known
Reside eternal in our bones
Beside the greatest lovers and crafters and old zen masters
Open your eyes big and wide
Clear your heart, lift your mind
Drink in the immutable honor of your ancestors’ pride
Anti-Vax & SO Proud
Just when I thought I’d heard the best anti-vax speakers and arguments that there are, I hear this lady! Holy smokes, she’s on fire, I have to share it right now, even though I need to listen three more times at least, then rinse and repeat, so I can recite this wizard to every vaccine worshipper I meet!
So happy to meet, Amandha Vollmer, introduced through James True, who I keep talking about, because he keeps crushing.
If I had to claim a favorite presentation of the year so far, this would be it. I’m armed with info and poetry from her words—the next sewing circle, campfire, swap meet, square dance, town hall meeting, potluck, trek, shop or queue—I’ll know just what to do. And say!
And even if I only do one of those activities, because I’ll never wear a mask, I know I’m super infectious, by nature, so those experts say. So you better watch out! 😉
Firm of Mind
Death in slow motion
in tandem with a
quick step in double-time
one stomp in nine
Steals, no
steels the rhyme
The ferment tears up, salt
No, that is tears down, carbon
just like me
just like there’s
No such thing as gravity
The firmament is breathing
just like me
Hales exodus then in sense brings
Truth like the
most tart wine
The right thing is always the hardest as
love and grape are worthless
withering on the vine and
tainted with slogans and politics and
Such cringe-worthy placating acts of
complete cowardship like
Claimed false priestesses of peace-like
branding thanks to the
Club of Rome crafting
incessantly flimsy chains of
velvets smacking
So I beg you
Gag making, BLM faking
Marianne Williamson, as others
on your progressive
left based elevating
Wormwood eaten platform of
false love of
Moves only suffocating
This one is just for y’all
Because I so long to see
a mask of shame, that is
a sort of love-spouting muzzle
so that the smoke is coming from right
where it should at last
And by that I mean to be
most crass
Because that means
No longer from your mouth but
Right out of your
skinny paper white
agenda-driven ass
Wicked Eugene
I winked and smirked
he was a jerk
I crafted that perfect smile
and nodded
cocked my head
ever so slightly
to the left
He’s so damn deft yet
Eugene and me
we have such long history
Where I plant, he plots
Where he resurrects, I bury
We battle for the
Grace of Mary
in Eden’s land we first met Larry
Scary fellow, screamed like
Sherbert
too sweet, too tart, far too alert
Still, they annoy me
ALL
their very beck and call
remind me how deep
my stall
where resentment reigns
and putrid mushrooms grow
but in God’s language show
Poison every next
Regime
Hemlock, Datura, Henbane call
Crazy Frogs gather all
invite the masks into our den
again
and pretend, oh no,
Never, no, not ever
And chant gracefully or
Brutally
again and again
with them
No, no, please no, never,
Don’t ever forget your vaccine!
As to mine enemies
I sing as
says our
glorious
and ever so
equanimous
Eugene
By Virtue, By Vice
They got you either way
Play
Both sides against the middle
Stripes
Black or white
Red or blue
Shades of gray
This summer of COVID, they say
Distance, safety, security
locks and lights
Alarms and fast response
Just $1 a day, so they say
Got porn, they got ya
Got religion, they got ya
Got raw milk, guess what
open wide, because you know
You need them
They are so concerned
for your every safety
They tuck you in
Remove your sin with
their love like tin
Wipes, gloves, masks
Their devotion to crisis
Restrictions
Quarantines
Still super-duper
Low gas prices
They got you either way
Predator and prey
Beg them now
Sinners, losers, false claim choosers
Come what may
Do-gooders too, they got your number
No addiction necessary
Mark these days so quite contrary
Devil, angel, wasp and snake
May we all make fiery merry
Hot, wired, wicked
Smooth, sultry, smog
war like fog
Boiling frog and
All ways and always
Come what may
Happy Independence Day
Sane Apertures
I promised myself this summer I’d spend more time learning about the practical, important things of life and less on theoretical things like conspiracy theories. Then I realized, this is quite an impossible task, because they are one in the same.
I can’t express how irritating it is for me to listen and learn from some of the great gardening and homesteading podcasts out there who never discuss anything remotely controversial, even when it’s DIRECTLY related to their field, like WEATHER MODIFICATION. This is not sane strategy. Pretending something does not exist is not the same as if it really does not exist.
I know how this has culturally come about, because a denial of reality is written into the scriptures, quite literally. The New Age movement, born from previous Christian cultures, have bred passivity, have elevated non-confrontation and worshipped weakness. Avoidance and turning the other cheek and tolerating anything and everything without judgement (except of course those who use their discernment, aka built-in bullshit meter) have become the signs of virtue in this collective insanity quickly falling into psychological tyranny.
These are the folks currently wearing masks of shame on their faces. And this is not only a virtue signal, but a fashion statement. Jesus, Mary and Joseph, I have no words. But, I was raised under a similar guise of masking, which insisted: “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” Are folks finally beginning to understand where this level of gagging the voice leads us?
According to the ‘Authorities’ your very breathe is like diarrhea and that’s why you need to wear a diaper over your mouth. They sell you a cover story, and indeed make an industry of it, because that’s what you’re asking for, you adult children.
In case you care to GROW UP from this insanity and hear some rational voices telling it like it is, here’s just a very short list of the brilliance awaiting the courageous individual.
“Saturn has moved back into Capricorn where it will transit until December 17th. Saturn is the planet of boundaries, stuctures, and authority and its brief transit through Aquarius brought us social distancing and limits on freedom. In Capricorn, Saturn is in domicile and feels right at home. Both Saturn and Capricorn appreciate the value of tradition and conservatism and Saturn in this cardinal earth sign reminds us that true happiness comes from maturity, family values, hard work and self sufficiency, not communism or the glorification of victimhood. Weakness is less likely to be rewarded during this transit and expecting others to pick up the bill will result in failure and hard karmic lessons.
The actions of the extreme far left are turning many people towards conservative political parties which I predicted back in 2017 when Saturn entered Capricorn for the first time. Saturn in Capricorn is bad news for the U.S rioters who foolishly think that they can push the U.S into Marxism, as they distance themselves even further from the silent majority who are tired of these disturbances to their daily lives.” www.FionaAedgar.com
Imagine, if you will, you are among like-minded, mask-free sane folks enjoying a glorious holiday weekend?! And you have so much gravy to share, you make it available to the whole wide world. WOW, now that’s virtue!
Imagine, I know this one is really hard, but still I try. You know the willful ignorance, and learned helplessness is what will destroy you, destroy us all, and you still care enough, have enough compassion for your destroyers, to still try to save them. That’s Carol, getting kicked out of her apartment, like so many.
“Tis the business of little minds to shrink; but he whose heart is firm, and whose conscience approves his conduct, will pursue his principles unto death….” Thomas Paine
“Under a tyranny, most friends are a liability. One quarter of them turn “reasonable” and become your enemies, one quarter are afraid to stop and speak, and one quarter are killed and you die with them. But the blessed final quarter keep you alive.” ― Sinclair Lewis, It Can’t Happen Here
VOODOO ECONOMICS: The Corporate Technocrats Who Finance Social Justice & Anarchy — RIELPOLITIK
WOW, this is the most depressing list I’ve ever read. Manufacturing consent and chaos globally—the biggest corporations in the world.
Source – geopolitics.co – “…People ask, where does all the money come from to promote and hold nationwide protests that promote the destruction of America? Look no further than Technocrats in corporate America. This list does not include the hundreds of millions from foundations and NGOs” $564 Million: The Corporate Technocrats Who Finance Social Justice […]
via VOODOO ECONOMICS: The Corporate Technocrats Who Finance Social Justice & Anarchy — RIELPOLITIK
De-Nile, Our River
Like all old couples we’ve adopted and ameliorated plenty of bad jokes and even worse puns
Amusement becomes more challenging as one ages
Where once you could or might like to party all night
eventually to party for an hour seems more in sight
And so, De-Nile is not just a river in China, or Idaho, or Guadalajara
And, never let the truth get in the way of a good story
so I hurt my hip, my toe, my heart, by flying and not by showing off
Let’s just agree to disagree
That history, from wherever it comes
for whatever we pretend it doesn’t matter still we know it does
we cling to old phrases like, from where do your kinfolk come
we know we’ve decided collectively, it matters, so why do we continue to abandon our land to them, why do we bow our minds and sully our soils, to
THEM?!
That lord has more in common with their lord as I have more in common with their peasant master and slave,
I’ve been, native and queen, I’ve been, conquerer, conquered and conquering, I’ve been through all these things and seen life terrorizes all on her own no need for extemporaneously expressed self-righteous assigning
But, let’s carry on, nonetheless, in this copious never ending river of
denying
You’re Kidding Me
Oh my, I suck again. Of course I already knew goats are notoriously mischievous. And as a habitual novice, I expect mistakes and steep learning curves, but a nearly fatal accident before my new kids are here even a week?
Don’t worry, the story has a happy ending or I wouldn’t be writing it right now. I’d still be sobbing, watching chick flicks, eating popcorn, and overindulging in kombucha cocktails, like I did all afternoon yesterday.
I don’t handle this kind of thing well at all. In fact, even that expression ‘to handle it’ is too generous, because I barely do. What actually happens is I panic, get hysterical, panic some more, act out of sheer desperation, and then sob, whether or not I was successful. I have so much awe and admiration for real farm folk, the kind that grew up with livestock, so that all this life and death drama is second nature to them. But I grew up like most Americans, very sheltered from death and the other common dramas of nature.
I woke up yesterday morning and went directly to the corral where I have the new kids penned up, for their safety, of course. No, not at all of course. Phoebe, once the tamer and more exuberant of the two, had wedged herself in the feeder, she was on the ground not moving, I thought she was dead. Panic ensued immediately. I left the gate open as I rushed to her, and out bolted Chestnut, who then also panicked as the dogs began pursuing her eagerly around the corral.
Phoebe’s neck was twisted in a horrific way, but she was still breathing. And I couldn’t get her out. I struggled for what seemed like 20 minutes but was probably more like 2, absolutely beside myself. I thought for sure if her neck wasn’t already broken, I was breaking it without a doubt.
I did at last get her out, she tried to stand, head and neck terribly deformed, and fell right back down again. My mind was racing and whirling and the very thought that I was going to have to put her down had me collapse in a heap of sobbing.
She barely moved all day. Miraculously though, she’s now recovering. She doesn’t have her voice back at all, she’s more skittish, but she’s eating, and I am so grateful, and so lucky that my ineptitude and panic didn’t cause nearly as much pain as expected.
Something good in fact came out of it—I realized the wild grapes are ripe as I tore at the vines to bring the kids. Today’s a new day and there’s no time to keep crying over milk not even spilled.
Et Tu, Brutes?
Have you ever known anyone to
come down off their high horse to
greet you
when you’re
in the mud?
Or to, stop
for even one
nanosecond to
disengage from their
routine agenda or
lies to
Look you in the eyes and
Reach out their hand?
Have you ever known anyone who
was there
the moment you
were down?
Even from foreign soil, tongue or town
even without sound saw somehow
you were really down?
And so decided
without a second thought
not to
take the shot and
instead to
Reach out his hand?
Have you ever known anyone
who saw you melting in tears
and was not scared away
who saw you
grasping at straws
and still somehow
refrained from
slipping away?
Did you have a mother who stood strong
and a father who played long
were you of that lucky sort of duck
who
Left it to Beaver
before
Gilligan’s Island came along?
I did once and now
still I
thank all my lucky stars I
had the uncommon sense to
marry him
because somehow I knew
how very rare that is
to sing along
in such a sad slow song
