The Song To Set Me Free

A Navajo friend once told me that his people do not sin. Rather, they are “out of order.” ~Ellen Meloy

Imagine a world where people are not labeled ‘evil’ because they violated an arbitrary rule crossing into sin but viewed as out of order, out of harmony, sick, and can be realigned with the flow by a song offering, a melodic prayer aligning internal soul molecules with external earth breathing.

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Hypocrite Much?

All acts of kindness are lights in the war for justice. ~Joy Harjo

If kindness is not inculcated in a person before they reach their teens, the hope for justice is little more than a wet dream staining the sheets. I was taught to be kind but rejected the teaching well into my 20s for a philosophy of objective selfishness.

Sing To The Birds

I pray to the birds because they remind me of what I love rather than what I fear. ~Terry Tempest Williams

When one looks at all possibilities for gods and goddesses, the ethereal avians are as good as any, better than most to be the object of daily devotions. Their beauty is unparalleled, rivaled only by their fluttering partners in gravity denial, the flutterbies.

For Lust, Greed, and Glory

Now they’re planning the crime of the century
What will it be?
And they rape the universe
Who are the men of lust, greed, and glory?
~Supertramp

The crime is stealing the future from the yet to be born.
The crime includes rape, pillage, plunder, murder, execution, annihilation, genocide, extinction all heaped upon a passive Mother and her children. Animals drive to extinction

For lust, greed, and glory

A Series of Shitstorms

Life is a shitstorm, in which art is our only umbrella. ~Mario Vargas Llosa

Life is a series of shitstorms punctuated by short seasons of calm, the ebbs between the onrush of shit flushed into serenity and smelly chaos. Most of my shitstorms have been self-induced, the result of poor choices, boorish behaviors, impulsive actions until the bowl filled to overflowing and the handle was pulled unleashing a torrent of fecal matter on my head.

Forging Ahead

Nostalgia is cowardice. ~Mario Vargas Llosa

It is easier to dwell on the familiar past than address the unknown future. There are few mysteries with the past, the remembrance of problems filed smooth by time until they all but disappear and the past is a sanitized fantasy of rainbows and unicorns, a nostalgia bearing little likeness to the turbulent river created of tears and pain.

Seven Trumpets Blowing Sweet Rock n Roll

What is the proper response when hearing seven trumpets blowing sweet rock and roll?
Is to dance with a queen
using a mother of pearl comb to preen
with strawberry scented vaseline
while feasting on sardine
and Holstein
cuisine
celebrating the anniversary of being deflowered by an Argentine
in front of an obscene
wide TV screen