A Call to Arms

 

I see the concept of non violence as accepting violence as it is given giving it no power over the self. It is to sit and be. I am among chaos. I shall seek to find non-violence in as my guest forever. I am the profile, of serenity. I am quiet and speak in the best knowledge of non-violence. I by telling my truth, I shall be seen as a man which is quite a tall order considering all things life is hard enough on its own terms without violence of hate gestating in the fear of what we perceive by off vision or what reality is. We all humans, all Americans for some reason stand at each others stoops yelling at the house next door. It is hard to yell at a baby or toddler for in us born is the moral recognition that this will not help, only hinder our success in reaching a point of communication, so why should we as men reach not out and receive such communication raw and unfettered by the what is in us all, humanity. It is something we can not dismiss without losing any of what we are human, in any steps of the word and all the nations of men, as well what we as Americans have the greatest ability to instill in one another, humanity for our, our country lay does it not at the feet of the greatness that we aspire to achieve in our very hearth, humanity. What was written a very short time ago, the Constitution, as away of “Nations” at that time was truly revolutionary in every way, no other land gave to man what he was, human, under his own growth, under his very watchful steed, the ever possibility of a better humanity, as one nation. I say this to say we are young in all respects, an experiment of humanity, of the “Nations” but I say remind us we the individual American is what truly drives this course the true spirit of America. Let us have “Peace on the streets, in the ally, in the land and every home, every community, in the humanity our for father’s  very wise course one we have stayed course to, let it be know again America is the greatest country simply for the humanity that is born in us. This is far beyond we really perceive for it lay at our finger tips, in America, I say you will find the truth, in every one of us. Americans.

Thor  

“The Lion”

Nightmares hit like emotion un-buffered, raw living of their own life, powerful images, expression of events, emotion, problems deep in resonance we may never have to ever experience in life, everything is more…

 

I was far from home, the dirt was different, my pursuit, the terrain,  “Africa?” I thought, running, again pursued, fear, of violence, violence its-self, yet I warred, for unseen reason I still soldiered, among my fear and ran to survive….

   The way into the complex its walls would nullify their rifle fire. I make it in twists and turns, I stop a few turns in. I take the point man out, and moved, again I waited. I hear many feet coming from over 40 feet converging from two directions. I twisted turned and found, a large room with light from outside. I locked the massive lock, turning to flee, in my haste I missed the shadows the quiet shadows or the watchers, life, death. A lion full male in mane, great to behold, now stood a Lion. Terror beheld me, not who I am. but what I am, the nightmare. The fear I attack. The Lion surprised rears back swinging a great paw to bat me off, claws shear just past where I was. I see him now, huge beautiful,  our eyes in the close moment of combat when you see the others eye’s soul, the whole animal, majestic a wonder of this world, of my soul. My eyes shadow. The blade strikes home.  The dream shifts. I am just a man, who I am deep unto my soul. The very spirit of who “I Am’ this great Lion the black manned Lion the most courageous of all the Lions lay dying on my blade, my spirit cried out like a lost love torn away, tears fell from my face, as I finally stopped twisting the blade, the soldier finished it. The great beast now hurt docile, wanting, help, lay underneath me, like a litter mate, I not as man saw this but as the emotion see live. The Lion looked at me, slowly drifting away, my regret’s small distant cries inside of me, my eyes though they new, they cried, long and hard as the Lion breathed slower, the great animal still under me. I still holding the knife on they cried. It slowed everything slowed the emotion stayed in that awful moment, and the Lion and I we spoke one last time with our eyes…

 I got up covered with horror lingering the…ose eyes, this deep meaning in me. It just wanted a friend. I thought. I Killed it kept rolling in my head in the darkness and I stagger, I am here, hurt still. I stay up, I still fight. The Lion.

 

Thor      

New Series on Nightmares We begin...sleep please. "Train"

The train had passengers. It was an old rail passenger car black windows having a shimmery tint and light to them. I had already escaped my pursuers, who I was desperately fleeing from and fighting guns, knifes, hands, rocks, madness of fight the raw ethos of instinct, live, if one got to close, it was me or them I just always thought, it is a hard thing to kill even in dream for, in terror one wars. I war as I went, turning looking fighting, killing. I belly craw into the large shed and see a train I am hopelessly outnumbered. I run. I head for the train and make it with a stern mind. One rail in hand I shoot the last man in the chest as he leaps for me. Death escaped as hands reach. I enter the car. I am just a passenger like the others, humans, normal like a school bus on a rail road track feeling comfortable, inviting in just its quiet, the quiet created by men who have survived the unspeakable, done the unspeakable, seen worse of the human hate worn on them. The train increased speed, and I waited for the conductor as the train clicked and clacked down the lane we followed the terrain for while, thought drift in space the conductor comes and just nods. I attempt to pay but “none needed now.” he says as I scrabble for what, know what in my pocket. It’s a terror dream I know some where in the drifts of my mind the gentle rolls of dream time, inter woven among the terror moments. Survival on the train, all going somewhere, the glass began to shade, the hills darkened time was moving something, the night mare began to crawl anew, in new warps of the senses. All the glass got glossier, the hills disappeared with them some form of hope drained. I still did not know where the train was going, but I traveled, as may the dream continued, it began its quiet work on us all. The train was getting harder to see, out lines began to blur of passengers, their very dream essence them began to blur. My mind set in the ride of safer began to see some new form of enemy, something sinister, the river ran next to the train as we went down the steep side of a long hill, “click clack”, faster now, the passengers began to go, where I can say because I went there. In the river down with the train, you began to be the river and the Train the river, the mind, stirring, getting lost in the river, the Train, the dream , the river, Train. I woke up. I saw the train better, I had to get off, off, off, I pushed my way hard, people, Train, river, down  faster. I ran faster, the only one. I ran through the train, and off the end, of the river. I landed  inside the bunker I had first caught the Train in but know the rail road became logs in the river, I walked along fighting, and the Train, pulling everything faster as it fell, I I saw them all fall As I sat there, I ra, I ran across, the logs now cut wood stacks, large like lumber yard. I come to end and just jump. The Train is going so fast now, it is all gone, pulling all the passengers, the what was left of quiet human experience. I thrust upon as I went, toil and run, run, finally I wake up, sort of broke through a veil of haze feel normal in mind to survive, to war, to rage to run, to not be able to stop the Train. The Train still I see it, it is a dream, the passengers humans, people all cascade trough my mind in horror, as I see, new evil in fleeting memories, a flash the Train, “click clack” . I lay in gravel next to the end of the line the ware house. I crawl up the side, of the bank as the Train rushes pulling me back. I make it up the embankment, it is green and beautiful, all was black and white in the Train. So terrified, alive, soldier: I get up ready for battle, war, the echoes of the dream of the Train bouncing in small corners, quiet in thought. I know they are still there, still ready for me, I must survive.

I wake. I think “What was that?”, I think. The train, I waver into sleep the Train awaits, see’s me, the terror, the soldier, those souls. I’m up awake in the dark in my home with my head all fuzzy fighting sleep, broken, fighting, alive, awakened by the Train.

THOR   

FREEDOM IS PARAMOUNT

Never let the colors run. For over 200 years soldiers have laid down their life, so we as a nation and individuals could continue to live in freedom. Greater love hath no man than this; that a man lay down his life for his fellow man. Have we forgotten what founded this great nation? Do we belittle the sacrifices our for-fathers made? NO! Look to the sky and see our flag on high. Blue is the great expanse of our nation holding strong the states as stars. The white is the purity and peace of our ideals and dreams. Red is for the blood of every patriot who fought on the battle field of freedom. We the people in order form a more perfect union declare our independence. We are still the people, who this government is built for, yet we allow our civil liberties to be eroded away. The stealthy removal of our civil liberties and freedoms is in direct growing proportion to the fear instilled upon us by the, “War on Drugs”. We have been cajoled into shutting our doors, windows, and eyes allowing our government to control our thoughts and beliefs by the Medias voice. Americans live in fear of the, “Jungle” right beyond our doors. Proper understanding is much the same as power. We must inform ourselves of our families, neighborhoods, and communities; in doing so, we gain strength and courage by unity. The insight this provides us with, opens the truth which implores and empowers us to check ourselves, the mass media, and the paths we choose for the future through our government. Why do we allow our government to divide our races, communities, and families with the, “War on Drugs”? We must have the strength to face freedom, and the honor to see all people treated with compassion. Loss of rights, more and more prisons, cops, and laws; just cause hardship and sorrow, while we quietly persecute our fellow Americans. Our government is continually gaining power over us. We have begun living in a police state where the régimes goal is money, control, and forced terror. Poverty is the final result. Ghandi said, “POVERTY IS THE WORST FORM OF VIOLENCE”: poverty of the hand, of the heart, of the spirit. No more escaping from fear and sorrow for it is knocking at your door. I shall open the door and invite in my honored guest. Only by abandoning our lives of safety and creating change can we live on the ideals that founded this great nation. There is no safety from the, “War on Drugs” being waged on our races, our families, our homes. There is blood on our hands, the blood of heroes. They fought for our freedom; we have to keep it. I’m a patriotic American and freedom is paramount.

2001' Written in 2B Lane County Jail Eugene Oregon.