within and without

the cold wind blows...cuts thru me like a knife...chill to the bone...lonely is colder than any wind that ever blowed and it cuts deeper than any blade could reach...and I bleed...I bleed out on the concrete...a trail of bright red splotches of sunshine that will evaporate and acend on high, a swirl of smoke up to the sky...bleeding like the firstborn lamb on the fourth of July...
Dying from the inside out...held captive by the beast...bleeding internally on the street...lost in the maze of empty created by the hands of slaves who die in the shadows of the towers they have built from bricks of mud and straw...the beams of iron ore...the ceders of lebenon...We die among the modern marvels of man-kind...clutching our nothing and holding it tight...we slave under the rod and staff of a false shepherd... a king who raises himself on throne above the earth and claims an authority higher than the Sun...how many generations will slave in chains and fetters forged by our own hands before we realize that the earth is ours? When will the meek inherit the earth? They claim to possess that witch belongs to all...They claim jurisdiction over our land...our seas...even our bodies and possessions...they write their 'law' on tables of stone that they heave upon the heads of my people...Woe to those who seat themselves on a throne above the earth, endevoring to rule over their fellow man with their iron sceptors, writing their 'laws' on tables of stone that they heave upon the heads of the people...they are preists of darkness...claiming to possess the 'knowledge of good and evil'...Curses be upon your heads...fuck you and your god and your nations...with blood on your hands you stand in judgement of the rightous...
festering wounds never had a chance to heal...the bandits raid outside while the theif breaks in to steal...the bleating of the lamb is silenced by the blade...god requires blood for the remission of sins and they high priest recieves the choicest cuts of the meat...
I shiver in the cold, run for cover from the rain...nobody knows my fears, no one knows my pain...that cold wind blows, blood frozen in my veins,and lonely stabs me deeper than any blade could ever reach.

Function of Sacrifice...

Sometimes it is nessecary...always a last resort...not a thing to be honored in and of itself alone...a lesson in abundance and truth..Sacrifice can be a rite of passage...a symbol of a new birth...when the sacrifice itself becomes an idol...a false god is created...When a sacrifice is required as a testament to loyalty, the bond of true Love is broken and replaced by another paradym that is based on a false frame of reference... True Love is unconditional and it requires no sacrifice...it is not a noble thing to sacrifice our true desires, those desires are clues to our right path...our rightful purpose and destiny can be found on the path to our True Desires...

valley of dead bones

the warriors will rise from the ashes and the prophets will cast away their sackcloth of sorrow and from the bones of the marytrs they will fashion swords that cut to the marrow... and the scribes will write their letters with the blood of their oppressors and the rivers will run red with their blood

when your out on the road...

when you're out on the road with the wind when in blows, everyone knows who you are.
to he who has more is given the same, but when you have nothing the whole world is gained
because when you have nothing, even what you have will soon pass away and nothing really ain't nothing anyway...
you can gain the whole world, but at what cost, when you lose your own soul, that's when you're lost... but when you've got nothing, you've got nothing left to take away.
...Out on the road, with the wind and it blow my blues away.
You can hide behind your walls, buy your clothes from shopping malls, ride that escalator to the stars...
cut down the trees to wipe your ass, mine for gold and drill for gas, build a rocket ship and fly to mars...
gain the world and lose your soul, i'll sit right here and smoke a bowl and laugh at the illusions that you make.
it's all the same to me...just leave me alone and let me be and stop the fucking war for christs sake...
if he was here he'd kick your ass, he'd climb the poles and burn your flags, Why can't we all just live in harmony. I just want to be free.

Awakening

                             I streched my limbs beneath the bodhi tree when the morning star arose...

Awakening in the garden beneath a new dawn

Arising from the ashes

of the fire that smoldered in my heart till the dawn

quickening my spirit

cleansing my soul

peeling off layers of illusion

brushing off the dust from the ruins of a crumbled empire

I stand

I stand in the garden, naked and unashamed, with my fist raised in victory

This Knee shall not bow!

Breathe In

 A new Life

Inhale the sweet aroma of victory

cast away the chains and fetters of slavery and the stocks of correction

I have come to set the captives free!

Exhale

purifying the senses of the illusions and shadows of the rulers of the darkness

Renunciation of false authorities,

the gods and masters that rule over the dust and the dung

Renounce all ties to an empire built by the hands of slaves

 atop the burial grounds of the martyrs whose blood crys out from the ground.

Diary of a Mad-Man.

An alian in a strange land, with strange rules and customs...Donning a costume and playing a role...widening perspectives with each new face...He is the Invisible Man.

Only the crazy people can see me...They speak to me from a place of clarity and serenity, awakened from their busy, melo-dramatic dreamworld...Momentarily, for only brief strains of time, they escape their dreadful nightmare to entertain my presence. Their perspectives, usually askew with paranoic hallucinations, become clearer and the light of recognition shows in their eyes as they meet mine. Their heads, bombarded with the meaningless chatter of monkeys and mad-men have suddenly become as silent as a chapel as my words echo in their dome...the laughing lunatics, the homicidal maniacs, the necropheliacs, insomniacs, pedifile preists, guilt ridden frequent mastorbators, closet homo-sexuals; the junkies, the johns, the dicks and the harry's...somehow they all find a reprieve in my presence.
     I feel, that to some, I am somewhere in between Dr. Phil and Jesus Christ..."I am the High Priest of the Crazies! Come! Confess your sins to me!" ...the proverbial sign around my neck reads...Why Me? I don't know...Maybe it's because they know...that I'm crazy too!
     Or, maybe it's because most people are too pre-occupied with their own meaningless existances to even acknowledge anyone elses... much less a crazy persons existance...after all, who really wants to talk to someone that is so stuck in their own world that they spend most of their time talking to themselves...mostly lamenting of what they lack, nostalgilizing about the past, and ranting and raving about petty offences that have been committed against them...Feeling judged and victimized, catagorized and critisized from all sides can take its toll on the cerebrum...being ostrocized and marginalized by the gentrified socialites can wreak havoc on the head of a tender hearted human being that is malajusted to this crazy, fucked up, in-human world we're living in.
     Love is the awareness of the One universal soul we all share, only by tapping into this egoless state of mind can we truly understand another and be aware of the suffering of another...Awareness is the first step to healing.

America does no longer exist.

The revolution was televised right before our eyes and we bought all the lies...you cant think outside the book much less the tube...