Rainbow information reiteration

Reiteration of a point of information,
Rainbow lyrical, of earthly miracles
Earthbound debauchery, soaking in misery
Introspection of the reiteration of the dedication to rainbow information.

[Rainbow Information] : Information that isn't seen enough, sometimes it comes with a storm, but it is a brief moment when the clouds part and a way to understand why we have storms in the first place.

Don't bring a gun to a snow ball fight.

Around 2.30PM on Saturday, December 19, during a historic snowstorm, residents at the intersection of 14th and U Streets NW started throwing snowballs at passing Hummers.

One of the cars pelted was driven by a plainclothes police officer identified only as Det. Baylor. Baylor got out of his car and brandished his gun at the crowd.

Reason.tv's Dan Hayes was on the scene, capturing the tense c More..confrontation between police and citizens who chanted "Don't bring a gun to a snowball fight!"


Don't bring a gun to a snow ball fight!
You know it's not justice, or a fair fight.
The children grew up and what do you know,
Their all out playing in three feet of snow.

Don't bring a gun to a snow ball fight!
We aren't brain washed we know our rights.
Whats your name we demand to know,
Your badge number is what you've got to show.

Don't bring a gun to a snow ball fight!
The situation gets heated and the crowd grows tight.
You say he's arrested but you don't know?
He didn't throw the snowball so let him go.

Detective Bayler, can the situation ease?
Some one called cops on you, gun toting sleaze!
Snow hit your window I thought hummers were built for war,
Excessive force was used, and now your ready for more.

Don't bring a gun to a snow ball fight!
We will organize and know our rights.
This video is broadcast world wide
I hope that gun pointing makes you feel good inside.

Take arms with our shovels

Every time I see a "lot"
I can't help but have one thought...
Community gardens, feeding the children
Children of society
Raised on chemicals.

Homeless and traveling;
Grounded and aging.
All of the people
With room to work the land.

Tear down the fences!
Lay waste to concrete!
Take arms with our shovels!
Take back our food security!

Share with our neighbors, families and friends,
Make use of old wisdom, and the power that young bodies lend.
So while putting our hands to the earth, we take a stand.
Our food it will grow if we take care of the land.

Ally cat

I didn't get this far without being who I am.
I walk a high fence line, even if I fall now and then.

Because baby I'm an ally cat,
I'm no ones but my own,
The dumpster my gourmet
And the trash can my throne.

You can't win me or buy me
I wouldn't gamble with that
Or seduce me with home comfort
I wouldn't go for that.
Because when the night falls, and you ask me to leave,
I'm already on my way and half down the street.

When your and ally cat
Your no ones but your own
Starry sky your roof
And the open road your home.

You call me in from the rain,
Promise me good things to take away the pain
But I've heard this all before and your promises are all the same.
Because when it comes to you
I'd rather go alone
I'm an ally cat and no ones but my own.

In my bliss

Words fall on alabaster shell.
Impenetrable, unacknowledged
Try to repeat these words, they fall short.

Intrinsic etching fails.
Ingrained conditions defeated,
Not in my dream

You and I, we float elliptical, but not one
Fingers touch, the circuit not connected
Not completed

My bliss exists among 1000 hells.
My bliss exists among 1000 heavens.
I am one in my bliss

I will be impeccable in my word.
I will speak only my own truth,
And for certain it is no other

I will not eat the poison
Served on a silver platter
Nor serve it to you or I.

Bliss in one.
Doubled, shared
Inspiration and impression.

Commutable, mutable, osmosis.
You chose as I do.
In bliss
We resist
Nothing but our best.

Hello old friend

Hello, old friend:
I was searching for that tall dark and handsome
On every street corner.
In the squares, on the street, in the hallowed halls of knowledge
Where were we, where were you?

I saw you dissapper around every corner
And step on every bus
Saw you face in window reflections
And if only I had been one step ahead I would have bumped into you.

I am waiting, I am singing
I am welcoming you home

canvas 25$

Knocking on doors
Wondering if anyone cares
My umbrealla flipping and my mind going with it

The rain mists my face
The clip board chained and anchored to my arm
Slam slam, waves against a ship
A belief system as small as a skiff

No no no, I'm living beyond my means
Besides I don't really care
Don't bother coming back

I care, isn't this an awful state of affairs
I will be there tell me when and where
Here have a glass of water and be off with you

Let me flow and go
And then we will be free.
If we are?
Then we were meant to be.

Every song in my heart finds it's true place
Among the stars I wonder
As they floats into space

If you will love me
No matter where I am
Look up to the sky and through the grains of sand
Each, like me a promise holds,
Of a future bright or a past so old.

Indifference followed me home
And knocked upon my door
And rung the bell
So it did begin to yell
Love brushed past in a blur

*Then walked right out the door*

Two fold came the knocking,
And now I stood alone
I bit my tongue and faced alone the guest
I was avoiding

A scene that was familiar
I asked indifference in for tea
Kir said it did not matter
I figured this would be

......as such

I thought I had an ally
but they suddenly had to go
It seems my allie became an enemy
And my friend became my foe

Mediocrity unfolded
My heart began to bore


(I can't finish this because I am feeling unbearable indifference in the worst possible way.)

I can't hear you, your too far away.

All the words that are forced through my heart
Come out in micro mintue peices, ground into dust
Dust that can be formed and clay baked

Oh be still past memories
You are in the past in a foriegn launguage
I do not understand
If only I had a rosetta stone

What are you feeling?
The wind isn't a sealed envelope
The message comes broken and undeciphered

The words get lost in smudges

Dear Book,
I miss you.

Smoke exhalation, swoosh
Like a louger down a snowy track.

I can hear it in the inhale,
Smoke like a grimy mans hand
Gripping his last penny on the horse track.

Mothers pushing prams,
Wedded baby bliss,
White picket fences undulating into head stones.

Dirty scribbly hands write,
Taking over the white and blue lined void.
Trying to ponder life entirely
In one stroke of a pencil

Scratching word lines on a paper,
Almost meaningless as the scratches themselves.
Words that snake away from me
Evaporating as the scribbles emerge.

The non- atomic free range human

I am a human
I don't come with a warranty,
Instructions, or Frequently Asked Questions.
I don't run on coffee
It's bad fuel.

I can't run 24 hours per day.
I need sleep.
You can't just oil me up and expect me to run!

I have boundaries, limits
I can change without reason
After all I'm not pre-programed
I am the only user, and the original copy
Version 1.0.
Not mass produced.

I'm not broken when you don't prefer my actions;
Don't try to fix me, there is nothing to fix
I am only changing, adapting.

There is no manual, none that I know of...
So you better count on us being incompatible sometimes.
Count on glitches and problems,
You are not slot A on Monday,
And I B .

We, I, Us, You are hyper dimensional, transitional and contradictory beings.

Here's to cheers to our mother

Happy birthday dear mother,

Your not dead yet

Your old, so im told

Really, truly, as good as it gets.

Your skin is wrinkled

Your style is a mess

But honey I heard you compete with the best

Oh mother dear

You're the third of eight.

Poets exualt you,

And philosophers postulate.

So on this day,

We make such a fuss

To us you gave life

A reason for lust

So thank you dear mother,

Here's to this year.

A billion more hurdles, 

And a trillion more fears

You keep on kicking, 

And going strong

Because without you dear mother

I simply...really... truly... can't go on

Hex

87CEEB I think, I tripped
Trying to understand
Only thing I know, is that I don't
I won't

9ACD32, Just is
Because it started, won't stop
Not trying

Can't be opened
Was never shut

Was, is, will

Link List of Waky Woop

http://www.learningherbs.com/dandelion_recipes.html

http://www.bccherry.com/orchard-listings.asp

http://hubpages.com/hub/Free-foods-and-herbal-medicines-from-the-countryside

http://comics.com/minimum_security/

http://www.astro.com/cgi/atxgen.cgi?btyp=apx;lang=e;nhor=1;cid=o88fileYPURAL-u1235799501#B3

soggy sprite hiding under information, waiting for the rain in the rain forest to stop.....

I saw the intricacies of life, I saw trees breath and what must have been fairies.
I could make flowers flourish and die and come back again.
Fibonacci and fractal patterns everywhere, they are in the fabric of life.
I live in rain and got to see water form almost into the right shape not yet snow,
Before it finds out it's too warm
And then the pattern gets lost to the fog.
So I leave you this, smoke ashes curl into clouds as the mist pulls the etchings and the spherical hex patterns off of condensed breath.
Only to spew it out on the pavement to get cherry blossomed kablamied and swung onto the adventure heavy sea breezez.

A Mid-Springs Night Revel

And bah bah bah bup bupt and dunk dunk

And my feet, eat, stones shells and sand

Tree lu lu ,pa put paput

Fife  fi  fi

And heart beats dunk dunk

And Flames are licking the sky and eating the stars out

Catching melodies and rhythms 

In the snapping and popping of logs

Moon light  soft as cream, 

Ice cream vanilla original

The owl hoots 

Creatures of europhorosine and dionysis revel

And I dance and flit rock to rock

The ocean lapping out of time

Drum beats stand stark 

Against wild yelps and kyries kalah

Kyah Kyah

Thum thum, thum thum, thum thum

The silence remains in rips and shreds

Hanging tattered around the edges

Translucent, letting only the darkness pass through

A fey, a sprite, a dream apparition lingering

Through fire, smoke, and dancing feet 

She takes a strand of a tune 

Weaving it with warm salt air and laughter.

The System the Hen and the Grower

How doth the little birdy crow
"Free me, it is to small"
How doth the petty criminal plea
"My crime is none at all!"

And twice they met in dream-like set
To parle through the fence
And thus it seemed the grower mean
Though the hen she t'was not tense

And so he said...

"I'm sorry chicky, your one too many
To the abattoir one and all!
The real run, is in having fun
Growing green through out the fall"

To this she did reply...

"Please kind sir don't sentence me
The farm land's long and tall
There is much land for our marry band
Remember we're all fish in the sea"

The next night came with much remorse
To the young man in his cell
"I can't carry on to the next dawn
This place to small is my hell"

Those little eyes
They looked back
So beedy and black
So beedy and black

Weary and Teary
With no smugness they thought and replied.....


"My brother my son
You didn't realize we're one
Neither do they,
I can tell"

And she paused, then spoke....

"For our cage is to small
And none was our crime
And they pitted you against me
But my brother my son you now know we are one
It's up to you to up hold us all"

With new hope she awoke and spoke this with conviction

"It's to late for me, to enter my plea
I have a date with Mr Kentucky
But my brother, my son, you and I we are one
Go fight the good fight
You are lucky

The light fell on the man in the cell as morning came.

The man in the cage
Woke up filled with rage
"How dare they commit such a crime!"

Then he curled on his side
And he cried, and he cried
As he realized he had 7 to 20

And the pain that followed
Was tiptoe foot prints scattered across these bones
My breath both a cage and an embrace.

An epidermal 911
And the black that ran,
As water in the night

Two worlds lapse between the beats
The in, the out
Exsistance

The silence between two heartbeats embraces the whole universe.
The world zero point merges and turns
Between two heart beats

Our vision, our space, our double helix
Umbra, antumbra, penumbra,

meus pectus pectoris no a locus vobis intus is

And when the day is at an end
Will you still be my friend
And your fading fast
Memories will never last
Because time bends and changes
To the direction we are moving

The wood block knows
Round to round and square to square
The rings that were there
Can match no other
That's how it grows

So tomorrow I'll keep moving on
Home is where the heart is
The heart lies in the chest
The house is comprised of one body

Meus pectus pectoris no a locus vobis intus is
Operor non licentia is cassus

How Culture Shapes Nature

How Culture Shapes Nature

Culture shapes nature by first defining what is or is not nature, and secondly how we choose to physically creates those spaces that we deem to be nature or those areas we deem not nature. As humans move in to the urban centers, nature becomes out there and removed, while we remain inside cities with culture. Commodification leads to importation, land degradation and allows physical separation from subsistence work and its surrounding environment. How we define nature becomes nature, the definition is expanding and changing with the perception of needing nature or the concept of being able to live apart from it. We create nature physically as much as we do mentally. Creating natural spaces such as parks, inner city and national, the landscapes we see in art works, old run down lots and the ideal settings for scavenging animals such as raccoons, pigeons and strays are all human created forms of nature. How we classify these places and areas become our cultural understanding of what nature is composed of.

The notion of what nature is has been constantly shifting in the 21^st century due to the belief that we as humans can separate ourselves from nature and that it is possible to live entirely outside and without it. Our food comes from every corner of the globe, fresh fruit and vegetables are available year round even when the earth is too frozen to grow. Building materials are available at our fingertips and we never have to grow the cotton that our clothes are made from. How could one imagine that we are removed from nature, or are capable of living outside of it? We are fully immersed within it as well as constantly changing it. In cities, we create nature by creating natural spaces inside and outside our home. Within the private sphere people, have yards with gardens, flowers, trees, as well as pets and houseplants. In the public there are trees kept anchored in the sidewalks, city parks and numerous types of birds and rodents. UVIC in itself is an example with an unusual amount of rabbits, gardens and the occasional deer. These areas did not form themselves, they were molded by culture, what was deemed nature, and what we thought would appeal to our idea of natural beauty.

We separate and create what is nature from what is not in our minds, this has gone askew in our society, because we are selective and unrealistic we ignore what could be classified as nature. Perhaps not picturesque, but nature all the same. When we look at paintings by the famous group of seven we can see rugged landscapes of mountains forests and oceans; but what we do not see are logging camps, oil drills, construction sites or even people for that manner. Our society has separated humans and their effects on the earth from what we imagine nature to be, untouched wilderness. Few people it seems walk into a dilapidated park that is the size of one small city lot, that is filled with pigeons and squirrels, one person walking their dog, and a smoking pit for teenagers on their lunch break among the 5 trees that reside in the whole park, and go “Wow!!! Isn’t this nature great!” Most would not be quick to agree that this is the definition of nature. Yet it still is, it is in its urban setting which was created by the culture of a city. Because urbanites can claim that this park example is not nature, nature must be out there outside the city.

This is where you have environmentalists come in; they are groups of people who care about the environment, and try to protect spaces we have deemed nature. They have an essential role in the final say of what is or is not nature as they are usually the ones who protect or help to rebuild natural spaces. Those who act to preserve natural local habitat through private actions are conservationist, those who are part of groups and work in the public, civic or political sphere are activists and those who act though demonstration and direct action are radicals. There are also those who care about the environment but take no action these people are a large part of the collective thinkers who define what nature is. Those who act at the level of policymaking get into political ecology. In the case of tree shade in Pakistan Indigenous farmers become not only environmentalists, but also activists and radicals, they are also the group of people who commodify a cultural concept of a part of nature. The case of tree shade serves as an example of how culture works to shape nature at every level.

Farmers in Pakistan believe that the shade of trees has an effect on the growing of their crops. The shade can have many useful characteristics and thus is talked about as a solid thing. The government is in dispute whether the farmers care about trees and the government wants to cut their trees. At the same time, the farmers commodify the shade as a thing they need and that should be managed and can be controlled. They also take on the role of environmentalists by acting as radicals and activists' trying to change the policies of what is culturally deemed important as nature and necessary for subsistence.

Nature is defined, classified and shaped by people, depending on their class, background and position their view and role in shaping the collective ideas of what nature is will be different. As in the case of shade, the farmers play many roles, just as city bureaucrats and land developers do within cities. As for our western culture, we have to look within urban areas for nature that may escape through a crack in a definition, as the cities are concrete jungles filled with life. Nature is not out there as in the famous group of seven paintings, after all most of those were painted right next to logging camps.

Communion with Silence

I closed the door on noise
Right on its toes before it could take another step
Silence helped me

I walk through, in, and with silence
Held in revere my mind rests
The thoughts held still
Some small child

In the noise I can't hear
Not you, nor anything else
I yell trying to communicate
Noise speaks many languages at ones
Its garbled into a million words lost

I hold my thoughts in communion
I hold them to myself and there they lie
Not good, nor bad
In the silence that reaches the roof

fly swim dig

How do you speak without actions
Actions without speech
How to get so trapped within the mind
I prefer it here
Not because it's safe and warm
But because I can change
I guess it shows.

The me you know
The one I know are
Two different
One in the same
They lead separate
Lives
Loves
Interests
Wants
Then they switch places and want the same.

Inside here there are no boundaries
I change constantly and thats okay
It's great even
Makes it more interesting
I hover orbit but I'm not trying to hold on
I'm fine where I am

Sometimes, outside the edges are held on to
They tear, rebuild
I am forced to take shape
Conform to a shape that I momentarily choose
That is impossible
A shell made for the wrong shape
The next moment passed
The shell breaks
I hatch
The world cold, I want back in
But I am out and now I must fly
Though I want to swim
I am now out and must live and fly not swim
Perhaps tomorrow I'll want to fly, or dig

The Epic Notion of a Moment Unmeasured

The empty stare took over my mind
Time, a breeze irreverent
The radio played cheesy love songs only meant for rainy days
Space controlled my eyes
I watched everything, and looked at nothing
I know in tandem with what I watch
Those thoughts were exchanged and melted
Oh how I looked
Notes became the only tick
Like the moments passing on a clock

A stare unregarded and exchanged
Blatant and obvious
So deep and obvious, knowing became thinking
Thus unfathomable and transparent
Plates clicked and dishes washed
Shoes shuffled across wood floor

Actions observed and unannounced
Moments pass unmeasured
There is no conductor between
Eyes, ears, my sense of space and continuity
The epic notion of a moment unmeasured

The line, broken, debunked, dismantled and reformed
Scent marked as a measure, long and prominent
Smell invasive to thought with an empty stomach
The afternoon broke the hold of the stare
Like a china plate

It's and olfactory invasion
It drags me back
My mind lethargic
Slow to warm
A pool in the first days of summer

A moment unmeasured begins to get heavy
Snapping back, a space becomes crowded
Language and interjection
Like bees or hen the noise
Thought halting becomes evasive

Soul Speak [end clip]

Dirty feet the ground the meet
In solid form they know the beat
In my mind
They keep the time
My soul is in my feet

Don't forget the rhythm comes from the heart

~Yess

Vainty in a Small Pond in the Universe

The sun swings in to view
I pause and the gloom ceases to exsist
This is a fermata meant to be held

My eyes glow and try to absorb it
Gold dances across your face
Shadows fall like brush strokes across your cheek
Each eye with a halo of lashes

Our faces warmed
The sea provides vanity
The suns reflection
In a mere pond in the universe

The last rays shine like amber
You and I sit by the sea
Trapped and transfixed
We breath in the last warmth

Bid adieu
As the sky washes in to the original impressionist water color

Carbonated Fuck and Painted Hand

The young moltey painted young man screamed
Screamed Fuck, not in anger by in revel
Shock factor the obscenity in the mouth tingling
Carbonated the Fuck escapes......

Pop! Fuck!

Like a child who found the secret word
Fuck, the word that raises eyebrows
Pop! Fuck!
A monkey hanging falling, flipping over, flipping out, and flipping off

"Begone I command you"
She keeps walking by
Even hurrying
"See magic works"

Pop! Fuck!
You capitalist mother fuckers
Petty mother fucker
Mild frothing occurs

Little sexy boys
Relish it with a side of ketchup
Please sooth and calm me

Pat, Pat
Sooth you
Pat pat on your head

I'd share half of nothing with you

I tell you we have to clean everything first
If things get dirty it just won't work
The back drop, purple skies
Charcoal tree scribbles fade into apricot fuzz
The sun sleeps beneath steeple tops

Fuck
....I know, too loud, too loud
We're back to where we started
The first time things were heavy
It's later and things are lighter this time
trust me I had this in mind the whole time

If the drink is too strong, sweetened it
Coco, give half and half more and half more
....take half of nothing
As the window fogs up my fingers wander
Lips, eyes, one fluid motion
It's finished
Tousled hair

I look out
Not at you
I reach out, my fingers touching
We should do this more often
We should leave

Personal Omission

An omission; a ball, a bag, folds of cloth
Arms holding, around holds and from the side
Present, accounted, I'm here

Music, louder then words but not thought
Notes, places to hide between
Hide and seek
...Hide and seek
......Hide and seek
Hide and seek

Grey between petals
The fuchsia, yellow, and white camouflage
Between raindrops and street lamps
The street shines the colors over black
Yellow, red, green, florescent blue, and ultra violet

Shirt is to big, a bag, folds of cloth
Folds of cloth
Folds of cloth

Arms done and undone, alone
The arms the arms
Roll call for the mind

A personal omission
Omitted

aerial

Sparrow flying in the tree.

When you sing your notes are free.

Branches form circus, aerial acrobats

A fan fan of chips and high note acts

Freer then the wind master of gravity

You defiy the laws of relativity

In the motion of what I am

In the motion of what I am
Unhindered a force broken, rebuilt, undone and unleashed
Unstoppable and all encompassing
A wild knowledge fire consuming the ripened shafts of words
Ashy emotions, feelings and thought left in the wake
I am a force

Like wind; lifting, sweeping, scoring
Lash down all that you own
All will change
The ocean would have you change, erode
Turn to sand and re mold
I am a mocking bird to the waves
The seahorse crests

The waves caress the earth
Sometimes it cracks, splits
What was below forces geysers and spews mountains

Extremities in fury passion and creation
Warming, solid, calming at peace
A zen meditation of my soul

All is one and thus I am