Visors, pulled down, blotting sun, from eyes.

No one would deny a parent to place a roof, above abode, nor place a plate upon, a table, for their younglings, through their handiwork.

A society has been created round about us, that fosters the black blood of monied enterprise.

A chokehold established, with further-futuristic establishing.

The future, may bode unwell, in future-d circumstance, toward individuated sustenance & fostering.

Pity.

Tho’ Man… still remains, most Inventive.

They of Ads & Vising, ought not forget Buddha’s Noble Teaching of Right Work/Livelihood. And deny the cult, Man by Man.

This I pray.

I just now read it to my wife. She taught an online course this summer & I wanted her to be in the right frame of mind to cohere its essence.

She finds the online format frustrating, as it’s a shadow of classroom interaction.

We’re discussing the depth of your narrative.

I believe you favor jazz, & I’m mostly unschooled in that genre.

To my incline, this Piece is all Rock ‘n Roll.

Graci

he drove long along the long, lone asphalt road of the windy pike. he could hear the tearing music of the torn peebles as they traversed along the spinning spider rubber tire’s edge, to only be lifted into sunshine bright & propelled to cascading arc behind the rotating steel wheel, left tumbled about, back onto obsidian.

the sun’s rays clung to its soot surface dark & integral aggregate shone out & shimmered like twinkling diamonds, embedded in rolled pitch & ash, lighting brighter still with sun sky high.

off off in the distance, spiked immobile tendrils rose from the solid steel superstructure, of the “porcupine refinery.”

guard-hair fences, standing now roundabout, borne barriers to unstoppable industry. ownership of the resourced land was the rule & now ruled from neo source.

coal blood courses through its tortured veins to be rendered once more clear. toxic ink issued smokily from quilled barbs, stingers to weary eyes & crystal environment.

THEY haven’t a clue about energy.

~

Thanx for loan…

“Jon Rappoport
Copyright © 2021”

https://youtu.be/nDbeqj-1XOo

“…there’s a lot of it about…”

https://davidicke.com/2021/07/23/panjabi-farmers-warning-v-this-is-the-calm-before-the-storm/

a catheral once – in Milano:

entering into the furious activity of the dome, the vacuous spaces fill with the percussion of a modern building-site. Warm air meets the cold and vaporizes in draughty passages. The sun enters nowhere except where it is permitted, filtered through stained glass and from the walls angelic hosts appear arrayed in warring coloured lights. Behind heavy tarpaulins, machines whirr, motors and engines burst into combustion, invisible workmen, engineers and crane-drivers, bill the work in progress while the steady sound of drilling pervades all. A feat of restitution. The encroaching spheres of industry, the railway terminals, defy definition. Menaced by the growl of minute cars which fill the skies with acidic airs, with assailing rains, indifferent to the elements once-white statues occupy the rooftops where saints and prophets pose their limbs in eloquent language. Stately statues raise their limbs in mild protest, united in formation they seem to challenge the ideologies of the encroaching metropolis from a stronghold of an old faith. The cathedral torn back by gravity to the ground, its supine cones deadly as missile heads. towering, vaults of stone amass charged with impetus, indulge an impossible urge to soar. It seems as if titanic columns would be released as rockets, if only the massive energies which hold them back, were eased. Sometime soaring organically, steadily bound for inexpressible heights, suddenly the stonework cascades, decorously. conceding to the futility of endeavour, falling back gracefully, flowering into sculpture while silent medieval journeymen reassert in their strong vernacular. Voyaging through unlit skies, veering dangerously toward points of tension, the magical construction sings.

Then,

Starting only with the first assaults by the mono-theistic Roman Empire,

And later successive attacks – by the “New Holy Roman Empire” (The “Frankish Empire under Charles L’Magne (Charlemagne)”),

And finally, the finishing “coup d’gras” – by the later “churches”,

Are what helped to finish off the last remnants of “Ye Old Ways”, as they were not written but oral traditions.

Funny how after the firm suppression of “The Old Ways”,

The time-honored respect for the Earth, it’s various creatures, and of Humanity itself – have eroded to the point we find ourselves today – staring into the abyss of total de-humanization and the destruction of “The Family”, and massive-oppression of the truly creative expressions of Humanity.

Oh how I long for the returning of the honest and simple principles of “The Old Ways”, and the many poignant lessons bestowed by their very words!

A truly free People, are a People filled with joy and wonder – that presses them on – to create and re-create the many universes – that lie in wait to be birthed – all from the power of human Minds!

If such knowledge and such passion be denied the Peoples – then what meaning of Life – do they ever come to know? What bonds shall be broken – laid upon their minds and upon their Souls – if they be wanting in the freedom of Mind – to create their own realities – and see to their OWN salvation?

Salvation for a price – is perhaps the biggest CON – to have ever disgraced humanity – and fooled the many captive Minds!

Now,

You MAY know “The REST of the story“!

( Yeah, I LOVED Paul Harvey, too! )