Patriotism

         Hello all! I have been neglecting my poetry in favor of song writing recently and, while this means i haven't produced any poetry, I have been writing lyrics.  I just moved to Richmond VA and as a consequence i have neither much means (or even a job) with which to make a recording (rent a recording studio and/or buy recording equipment) of the songs I have written, but I will get on it as soon as I have the means.

         This song is about the deep spiritual nature that undergirds American patriotism.  Unlike most other countries -some bound together by bonds of race and blood, others existing as the careless footprints of deceased empires- American patriotism stems from a call to action by one's own conscience.  What makes one's blood American is not its connection or faith towards its dead past -to one's ethnic heritage and family roots for instance-, but rather the fact that it is real, living, blood whose pulse cries out for freedom.  This is why people can come here from all four corners of the globe and become Americans regardless of color or creed.

          Finally, I feel compelled to point out that, though many of my fellow countrymen were lucky enough to be born in this land of freedom, many are not truly American.  They do not want and, in fact, work to oppose freedom.  Most unknowingly, but some with conscious intent.  This latter group can be found in its greatest concentration high up in the USA government and its corresponding crony-capitalist mega-corporations.

          Do not misunderstand me.  I am not calling for violence against anyone (in the final verse of this song, the line "my blood falls on this soil", emphasizes individual self-sacrifice and not a commitment to violence against others).  I am merely calling attention to the precarious nature of our union as well as the fact that it is in our day to day lives that we must change the world rather than looking to government to make these changes for us.

The Calling

My blood calls to the soil

Of a land I long to see

Where all my kindred spirits

Would dance in harmony

My brother’s of the forest

My sister’s of the sea

My father is of freedom made

And mother: love of humanity

And we fade

We’ll come again

Does your blood call to this soil

Of this land you long to see

Where all our kindred spirits

Once lived in prosperity

This land is of the forest

This land is of the sea

This land was once of freedom made

Now lives in slavery

And we fade

We’ll come again

My blood falls on this soil

In hopes of liberty

That all my kindred spirits

Would have a place to be

I am of the forest

I am of the sea

Faith in freedom I’ll proclaim

That all might love like me

And we fade

We’ll rise again…

Socrates

-->

Socrates

Some people

Cannot let the silence dance

In the gaps between the conversation

That harbor a deeper intimacy

Than words could let us know.

Afraid to shed the dream-words

That never seem to bridge the void

Between the different speakers

Speaking their different lives,

They think they cannot reconcile

Gazes that do not meet in conversation

So they fill the space with words

To create a common ground

But the ground falls under foot

Of those who ponder words in the silence

That follows their pronouncement

And lingers in interpretations.

If only they would cease their thoughts

That strive to avail them of discomfort

Found in the uneasiness

Of not knowing what the other feels.

Only then would they smile in silence:

For the love that awaits them there

As two people feel the understanding

That the most important things must remain unsaid.

My Feet Grow In the Ground

Sorry I have been MIA for a while.  I've been teaching myself guitar and have written my first song!  I can give you the lyrics but unfortunately I don't have the means (nor the skill) to provide you with a proper recording.

Lyrics:

I see my flesh break through the soil:

Green sprouts from the brown.

I taste my blood fall from the sky:

Onto the thirsty ground.

I smell my bones: richness of earth

Wet with the morning rain.

I feel my eye pierce through the clouds,

Lighting a brand new day.

Freedom comes when memories fade

And the future whispers its truth

This love unbridled cannot be tamed

Once you release it in you

Feet sink in soil walking the path

Away from a day in the fields

Friends by your side joke and they laugh

knowing how the others feel

Something’s real about the way

You forget what you thought you were

Sun shines dimly as day wanes

And all you can feel is love

Freedom comes when memories fade

And the future whispers its truth

This love unbridled cannot be tamed

Once you release it in you

[bridge]

Seasons come and seasons go

But I remain here still.

Even when I pass away

I will dissolve into it all

Freedom comes when memories fade

And the future whispers its truth

This love unbridled cannot be tamed

Once you release it in you

Dissection of the Eye

Philosophy

Strange telemetries

Mathematical imaginings

The optics deceive

But only for the moment it takes

To let the Image live

Not frozen behind a pane

But moving

All-encompassing

Alive

You are neither optics nor capturer of Image

Image does not capture life in the optics

Image is not for the optics
Optics are for the Image

Optics are

Only through Image

The Image's shadow

Is the life of the optics

Image gives shadows
to optics
As optics

Image is

Optics and Life

Image is everything

And life is the knowing of Self

Life is the illusion that there is other than the Image

Through other

There is Self

Self is the Image that dissolves the other

When optics dissolves itself into Image
There is only love

Because there is only Self

Immanence…

Music To Feel By

the moment the sun
touches my face with its light,
It absorbs my mind

 

\

A Circle in the Square

A Circle In The Square

The grid is white

The grid is grey

The grid is black

I am here in the grid:

The grid that unfolds in front of me;

The grid that orders

The grid that holds at bay the natural order of things.

I walk down one of the many corridors of the grid

Corridors divided by concrete and steel

Jutting from the earth

In smooth straight lines refracted from their surroundings.

Like circuits on a board

The corridors transmit their thoughts:

Transmit their people

To their intended destinations.

Elated by a little success

Downcast by a little failure

They judge according to the grid

And move according to its design

The subtle curves of their bodies 

So out of place in their surroundings,

Walk along the straight lines and sharp turns

Walk along the city streets.

I am caught up in these city streets

Reminded of what I’m missing

Finding solace only in my memories

Of the roots, the leaves and soil…

But now I enter the square

And there alone stands a tree:

The tree is green

The tree is brown

The tree is alive.

A tree with disorderly bark

Flowing of its own initiative.

The tree that curves

Like the bodies that surround it.

The tree that whispers to the passers by

Of something that they’ve forgotten.

The tree that sinks its roots into the soil

That brings its dark waters to the brightness of the sun.

Could these city dwellers  

Imagine what it meant

For a tree to suck the rain down from the sky?

Do they not see how the rain is lost

Falling on the unforgiving pavement

And disappearing down the gutter’s drain?

I am exiting from the gutter’s drain:

No longer do I live as these memories,

No longer do I live as this longing

A longing that carries these thoughts

Forth towards a future that they desire

A future always failing to resolve their lack.

I am born anew…

Now I find myself as these surroundings and what they frame

The wondrous being that stands here in the sun’s radiance:

Like the present materializing from the formless One

And casting the past into its oblivion

This tree stands among the destruction

Of concrete, pavement and order

Arising from disparate light, water and air

To reclaim what was paved over.

As this tree

I am released from the desires the grid has imprinted upon me;

Released from the past to which it holds me;

Released from the future towards which it presses me on;

Released

Towards the boundless identity

That blesses these eyes with the love of what they see.

The tree reminds me why I laugh.

Laugh at the fleetingness of the grid’s construction

Laugh at the nothingness at which it grasps

Laugh at its judgments that attempt to divide all they touch

But most of all,

I laugh at myself

For letting it take me away…

The State Explored Through Art

First let us begin with an artistic critique of the state and the left/right political division.  This video is a critique leveled by the band Laibach and their artist collective.  Though it may appear fascist, it must be analyzed beyond the immediate aesthetics of its presentation.  The lyrics, for instance, are not those of a fascist dictator, but rather those of the communist revolutionary Josip Broz Tito.  They exalt the supposed virtues of the state while claiming its authority is derived from the people.  This juxtaposition of fascist imagery and communist rhetoric has the effect breaking down the divisions of left and right, leaving the viewer faced with pure violent force: the will of the state. 

To represent society within the state as the division between left and right is to institutionalize division and violence. Not only are the two sides divided against each other, but they are also divided against themselves: the left is pulled two ways by its stance as socially libertarian and economically authoritarian, while the right is pulled two ways by its stance as socially authoritarian and economically libertarian.  Society is thus doubly fragmented by its left-right division as well as its libertarian-authoritarian division.  In the end this fragmentation produces a paradigm that is both socially and economically authoritarian: this institutionalization of conflict demands more state control, more violence simply to keep things together.


This is exactly what the state does.  The state uses violence to keep the situation (the nation), that it creates and oversees, together.  It does this by representing the people of the nation to themselves.  In this way, the state is the people, but only insofar as it is the people separated from themselves.


To divide the conflict within the state into left and right parties is therefore to institutionalize the need for the state.  The left/right division -unlike the authoritarian/libertarian division- does not pertain to the nature of the state per say, but rather to the specific expressions of its adherent's individuality.  By siding with a side in the left/right division, the individual ignores the nature of the state leaving the state with the task of expressing the nature of leftness or rightness (since it is within the state that the conflict between left and right is embodied).  The state is thus left to its own devices: first encroaching on society in a "left" way (pushing through regulations on industry, instituting social welfare programs etc.) and then it encroaches on society in a "right" way (taking away personal liberties, pushing through legislation that benefits big business interests etc.).  The more the sate encroaches, the more the divisions within the state become meaningless up to the point where we have a system like we have today: a system where both parties stand for the same principles and the same policies.

It is time that we as Americans do away with this left/right divide (or at the very least, relegate it to the realm of social interaction and personal feeling) and adress the real problem: the state itself...

Dreams of Liberty (The State)                      

Feel the force of the broken ones

Blindly lashing at the branches

Afraid to strike the root and see

The end to their negative solidarity

Streets seethe under daylight’s pressure:

The negative solidarity movement marches forth.

But I remember as I stand here watching on,

That they say the night is always darkest before the dawn.

In fear the masses converge

Under banners devoid of vision,

Understanding,

And love.

No light of freedom glints in eyes

That look for solutions from above:

“The state will cure the sickness

of self-centeredness,

Greed,

And lust.

It will bring the order to our lives

Our cities,

Our nation,

Our trust.”

But the state can protect us only

From the violence we cause each other

Its touch never brings the love we crave

From every man as our brother.

It cements its rule with force’s power

That in love’s absence, projects a veneer

Of a nation’s people bound together

Though, in fact, they’re bound by fear

The state’s hand touches where we’ve succumbed

To the blind hatred that keeps us enchained

To our selfishness that preys on others

And acts on lies we’ve entertained.

The state lets us live with the folly

Of not looking our fellow man in the eyes

And knowing his pain, troubles and joy

While living with him every day of our lives.

I dream one day we’ll realize the truth

That our nation was not of fiat born

But birthed by freedom’s present light

From which the state has had us torn.

I dream one day we’ll see the truth

That love and freedom must lead the fight

Against state slavery and its chains

But ’till then we march:

Left, right,

Left, right,

Left, right.

Finally, I would like to point out that I am adding a new tag called "ideology in prose" which I will use to tag any post where i lay out a piece of my worldview in prose (as opposed to visual art, music or poetry).