It's True!

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I am pilloried for passions as provoked by unbrave cack-wits. Still, you can count on me to fight a poet's fight. See, my rhythms are discomfiting for some, perhaps contentious. Still, the song it sings aspires to truth and light.
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See, what's there is only there because I sing it in a song. What I would express, expressed... made righteous, clean, and strong. My points have different aspect, and these points that should be made (?) ... in SONG they have a quality crossing flowers with grenades!
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Now how much should I have to "pay," to say my words my way? And what's the price exacted for expression?  What becomes my "crime" that's just too "heinous" to allow! What justifies my purging and suppression?
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It's true I have a conscience that I wear upon my sleeve. It's true I'd split the heavens; it's true I'd "soar" and "cleave." It's true I find "religion's" thrust a cop-out and a drag; it's true there's only guile been implied by ANY flag!
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Yes, it's true I seek autonomy and the freedom it suggests, but a freedom from the likes of such as "you." Self-important men and "artless," blessed by errant gods conniving... They insure themselves their future. We're their tools.
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Their clever orchestrations are abstruse, not plainly seen. They decide intolerance, so it's them defines "obscene." They would write your script and they would tell you what to think; you're just for their "utility." Too, behind? They nod and wink.
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It's true that I would, just as soon, NOT live my life their way. There's just no honor in it, it would seem. Based on lie's invention to manipulate control, it's a "carny-pitch" divergence from my dream.
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I dream of satisfaction efficacious and complete. I dream of the forthcoming, and the loss of all conceit. I dream we fill the emptiness with the wealth of what we know, and that SECRETS wrongly hidden are exposed to flash and glow!
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It's true what I surmise, my friend, that WE ARE NOT ALONE, and thinking thoughts like these gets hard to bear. So, I rise up every morning with some coffee for my spark, and I fix the starry skies, if there, and stare.
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What would you expect from me? I've eyes, and I can see; too, well read and educated, I perceive that I'm not free. With ears to match and listening, I've found a cosmic road, and on that trek I'm finding out:
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I won't be cowed or bowed.
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...Distrust of rhyming verse is not my problem, do you see? A song's a "weave" of rhythm and some verse. It seems to me that problem rests with others who would dictate how I tell you what I think, and that's perverse.
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Everyone can take the time... to see a different way. Everyone should have their choice to double, put, or stay... Everyone's enhanced anew with choices they could make... to, then, fertilize progression and improve a person's "state."
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Yet, I must fill your mold been pressed down, HARD, upon my soul; too, it doesn't matter what "perceptions" are? A universe, before me, stands ignored in their indifference which would smother up the outburst of a star!
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Too, I'm supposed to pack my brain in cakes of "social ice" and validate hypocrisy to go along... be nice? If yes? Be disappointed. I'd be true, at least, to self—to have respect for others, one must first respect oneself!
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I am a poet-warrior... my blades drip dragon's blood; I'm not apologetic; I'm obverse. All that I would wish for is the simple honest insight that I'm chanting here, to you, to lift my curse.
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That curse? It is *unknowing* that we labor with, you see? The curse is the erosion of the stuff that makes us free. The curse is persecution of divergence we all need... to aerate potential, be not bored—improve the breed!
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Now I'm expected dutifully to make a place for you, except you as the "standard"—how it's done... But where are all your colors and your levels or your richness? Where is beauty? Where is learning? Where's the fun?
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Your thinking's all peripheral, and bereft of any depth. Your focus is too narrow, and it seems you're scared to death. Too, to make me pay your sordid freight for all those fears denied, proclaims your lack of bravery, Sir, for which you're well despised.

alienview@roadrunner.com
www.AlienView.net

You know who you are.

Links In Chains

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I'd called myself a patriot when I didn't know its meaning, but I've discovered much since then, and much is contravening. Oh, I'm still a patriot, and fought my country's wars, but I'd been sold a bill of goods... down primrose paths was lured.
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See, there's never been the "balance," then, that "they" proclaimed we'd had; that heroes were real heroes, and the villains always bad? Black was *black* and white was *white* and ne'er the twain should meet! Gray's inconsequential? Only "dim-bulbs..." errant freaks! Too, UFOs are foolishness, and "science" has a right... to its campaign to "lead the way" to fight that "wacky blight"!
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Yes, their "evasions" they self-justify, their logic's bent to suit—the facts are misdirected and the data? Rendered moot. Plus history's obfuscated, so our character's destroyed; our rights are then suspended as injustice is employed!
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There's "too damn many people," so respect is parsed too fine; we lose the individual and must worship at a "shrine" (or at least its self-appointed) while the *classes* are proscribed... ...We're betrayed to psychopaths is what I would confide.
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And there is class, make no mistake; it's lurking in our schools... schools "train" those fated "service work", to *good* employees—tools! The upper class won't truck with that so places privileged kids in academic luxury denied to those dismissed!
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That's the rhyme and reason for a warfare based on class. The rich get ever richer, and the poor pay more for gas.
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"What's this to do with UFO's?", the purists have to ask. Well, an errant class is in control! Too, it's blowing off its task! It's them who owns the moldy key to black vaults, underground. It's them who holds the reigns they own through graft which... must astound! It's them controls the "scientists" with "the best place at the trough," it's them controls the doctors using drugs on kids! Enough!
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Everything is UFOs, I point out yet again. They parallel our culture. They're woven with it, friend. It's them outside your eggshell which has just begun to crack. They redefine your futures lately tyrannous and daft.
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See, theirs is but the status quo they're happy with... one can't but know, and to that end they've raised an army: politicos all smiles and charming, talking heads of any gender—more slick-mouthed, smoothly groomed pretenders—...grifting lawyers in platoons who wear you down, then suck your juice....
.There're judges in elitist pockets, soldiers with atomic rockets, and all the cops who taze you down for taking, but, your wallet out...
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You could bet that UFO's are better for you, then, than those. UFOs? You're off "the meter"? UFOs? Some brakes on cheaters?
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This could mean that you'd get juice to feed yourself and be set loose? Do they point to that free lunch that 'rightists' scold is "minus lunch", but really lets one reach far higher if "lunch" is not their top desire?
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See, we eschew our "priests" and "kings"—the dogma those create and bring—and point to futures born in space where Humans have a point... ...a place! They're the reason we're controlled by those who'd keep their "status quo." They can access cleaner power, help us raze our flimsy *towers*, lead us to a state of being existing in our better dreams?
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That's the thread of my suspicion and the root of my ambition,. I've a feeling that we'd share the same concern that must be there. ALL are born of star stuff, friend, and that's a fact we shan't contend, forgetting that we don't admit... ET exists in spite of it! It may be that we're mere fruit—our genes, in fact, are facts of truth!
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...Yes, from "someone else's" test tube, nothing special... think of that.  We are a crass experiment, a failure—worthless scat.  It may be that we are NOT—and never really were—the sun source of creation, but a common backyard cur!
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It may be the gods we have... are shadows on the wall, things but cast  from cosmic light that we don't "see" at all.
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It may be we live like apes to screw for the percentage, and do so with a soul too weak to make our line of scrimmage...
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It may be that we don't earn the arrogance we feel. But, ALONE in all this cosmos? I would chance some better deal.
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We don't have to pay the freight for those who WON'T believe, who are comfy in their towers at the center of their *needs*.
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See, given common 'druthers, please try to understand, but over one who blithely "won't" (?), please give me one who CAN! Give me folks who aren't afraid to reach beyond themselves... to an efficacious future that disclosures must foretell! Let the secrets all run free, and through the clearing dust... we'll find that we're set free, at last, to a freedom we can trust.
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Then give us just a decade! See? The asteroids are ours, with plenty left to share on out to others from the stars.
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We are individuals! We've talent all our own. Yet we are subjugated by an arbitrary throne.
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That "throne" rewards intolerance. That throne's a shallow line. That throne would have our thoughts proscribed by those we should despise.
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Now teams are all important, where the bigger weave gets spun, and I can see utility from stuff that teams have done, but I point out a truer truth that an upper class forgets: the weakest link defines the chain; It's strong links are the best.
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These "links" are individuals, and if needs be?  Stand alone. It's best they be autonomous for the thoughts they can compose.
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Do this sans all worry's... trepidation, I suggest.  See, people still need people.  With this you can't object. Stronger links still link right up, but then a CHAIN they make! The individual's KEY my friends, or teams are rigged and fake!
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Remember I'm a patriot... whose reach has gotten wide.  I've embraced a renaissance including "space" and "sky."  My country is the whole of Earth, the moon and NEAs; my land includes the moons of Jove, the "belt," and Mars I say! My home is where I'm conscious, and my bed is deep in space, my table is civility, and new settings are in place. My world is the multi-verse, this place where we must dare... where life evolves to teach itself the treasures it can share.


 alienview@roadrunner.com
www.AlienView.net

Wealth beyond imagining...

NEAs are Near Earth Asteroids, our ascending steps to the stars... Hello.
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As regards that—only arguably—maligned upper class, they could have it their way, painlessly and above board, riches beyond their most sociopathic imaginings... They could realize their dreams if they but demonstrated the most minimal respect for the instruments of that wealth. Individuals. You see, some regard must be shown to those who provide, for another more privileged than themselves, such grand largesse.
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It's this aforementioned "the disrespecting" standing in the way of space exploration, cosmic disclosure, and respect for the common person, make no mistake. They've a bird in hand and wouldn't even consider a cornucopia in the very achievable bush. That's no mistake either.
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As regards "individual autonomy"... It's not anarchy and the end of polite society. Those autonomous and so well foundationed individuals just have a more secure spot from which to lever a greater power than that presently enjoyed and are able to contribute even more to the positive synergy... of an efficacious team. Individual Autonomy, one might discover, won't drive teams apart as much as make a team even MORE productive, intelligent, and far reaching.
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True, there's no "I" in team, but there is a "me" iff'n you're not picky about letter order. More responsible people, astonishingly, not less... should carry concealed weapons, even. Anything contributing to more individual autonomy should be busily encouraged. It adds quality to the contribution an individual can make to a team of similar individuals. That makes the care and feeding of individuals key, and NOT of secondary importance.  The individual IS key to the efficacy of a team.
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Right now, we don't have a lot of respect for our individuals, and as the population goes steadily up, less all the time. There will be no profit comes with that.
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As regards UFOs being everything... Well, the fact of their existence would change everything in the same way occurring were we to abruptly discover that there were other civilizations in the unexplored region across space's metaphorical river—if we discovered that we had powerful witnesses to our arbitrary crimes of convenience and our practiced serial sociopathy, eh?
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The kids in Golding's "Lord of the Flies," unfettered by any mentoring and adult leadership, ran hot and rampant until the grownups showed up at the end of the novel to sort them out and re-civilize them... hmm. "Adult supervision" would settle some errant hubristic hash, eh?
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Restore John Ford!
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