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The Unfolding

Page 3

by Sha'Ra On WindWalker


  ~*~*~*~

  “Now, Miss Liberty,

  How do you wish to pay for those bombs?

  American Express?

  Of course: thank you.

  A pleasure doing business!”

  (smile!)

  My Quest

  I have a vision of a perfect Woman,

  I have yet to encounter;

  every morning I stand

  at the edge of the thundering sea

  calling out her name,

  yet it seems nothing ever comes of this:

  she never comes into existence,

  and the sea's waters blend with my tears:

  what will it take for her to hear my call?

  Should I give up this foolish quest?

  Is it the impossible dream?

  Is this my fate -

  to always dream, never receive?

  Fate is like faith: what people rely upon

  when the unknown and the future threaten;

  when feeling helpless; unsure of their way --

  so they say, “That is my fate.”

  or they say, “It is God's will.”

  No - never will fate determine my life,

  I would be my own proof

  that if I keep searching for something

  burning with desire; fired with passion,

  such will come to pass; must come to pass.

  And I will turn around and see

  what my dream has helped me create.

  The key to it all?

  Never surrender to the too easy ways,

  for what have they to boast of?

  Naturist

  She swam nude in a jade pool

  fed by a waterfall,

  free from society's judgment

  of such candid natural display

  as she swam to me.

  I felt strangely exhilarated

  standing there, watching her

  with just the sun

  and warm breeze on my skin,

  forgetful of everything

  but the moment of anticipation.

  She gently touched me

  as if she were blind -

  and loving hands

  filled my body with ecstasy.

  Of Tragedies And Horrors

  (And other things making up the good life)

  Today (I heard the news) I really must wonder:

  are humans utterly devoid of compassion?

  Incapable of living in a world without war

  and other collective madness?

  Without the oppression and killing of innocents -

  Of people, wildlife, the environment at every turn?

  Without violent dictatorships

  disguising themselves as democracies

  or worse, business corporations whose only goal

  is to make money at any cost - the drive of raw greed?

  Humans seem incapable of living in such a world.

  For without fascist governments pumping them full of fear;

  without the news media reporting and exploiting

  every misdeed, every crime, every tragedy and horror

  - as just another part of normal life -

  people would become unhappy, lose interest in their world

  and the good life wouldn't seem so good

  if there was no spice of violence, no tragedies to gawk at

  no one worse off than another.

  My conclusion has to be that tragedies -

  particularly if they happen somewhere else

  provide great entertainment;

  are wonderful sources of gossip

  without which, for most, life is boringly unbearable.

  Now, were I a psychologist

  and I had to give a report on such a group,

  I would call it psychotic.

  Overweight And Hungry

  Is it not ironic

  that in this country

  so many spend money --

  lots of money!

  to look like a third world person,

  while so many there

  struggle desperately every day

  to stem their gnawing hunger?

  Somehow the Jenny Craig's

  Weight Watcher's,

  and the 30lbs, 30days, $30Magic!

  have so many believing

  dieting's the only cure

  to losing sticky fat

  or most importantly

  having too much money!

  Either way you always lose

  something in the end here

  and need to come back

  again and again.

  A friend of mine

  of practical

  if slightly bent mind,

  had this great idea:

  open up weight loss clinics

  in Haiti and Somalia.

  You see? he said innocently,

  it'll cost a lot less to operate,

  and the effect,

  instantaneous, if not permanent!

  I wonder if his business

  is booming yet?

  Plodding The Mindless Maze

  Plodding the mindless maze,

  herds of bleary-eyed sheeple shuffle;

  jostle and crowd 'neath ancient towers

  moldy and cracked, ready to crumble

  with the touch of a child's hand.

  Joining jeers, cheering multitudes

  applaud their own laugh-track --

  commercial-driven stupids

  too ignorant even to qualify as fools --

  somehow enduring unaware

  parading their emptiness of mind

  briefly upon the plastic stage

  in the worst-ever bad-acted sitcom.

  But what does it matter to them?

  They know just enough to realize

  no one is watching their antics

  no one cares when they tumble off

  tired, drunk, diseased, depressed,

  their inflatable life pin-pricked:

  it's all the reality earth can offer.

  The worst show ever, that it is,

  but it's on every available channel

  and it's prime time all the time.

  Poisoned Earth

  Ever wonder

  what poisoned the earth?

  Ever thought that maybe

  somehow, something

  horrible

  happened to her?

  In the beginning

  was peace and happiness

  In the beginning...

  but what do we know

  of that?

  A man had a brother

  became jealous

  killed him:

  slowly the earth

  absorbed the brother's blood

  by a million tiny veins:

  that blood

  spread throughout

  the earth:

  a deadly poison:

  Whatever man sows,

  that he shall also reap:

  He killed his brother--

  gave his blood

  to the earth

  sowing death into the soil

  with jealousy

  A poisoned blood entered

  a virgin earth

  raping her

  through murder:

  How could her children

  not be murderers?

  They have never understood

  their past, their guilt

  They do not believe

  they cannot hear

  the cries

  they cannot feel

  the pain

  nurtured by a poisoned earth

  suspended

  between Heaven and Hades:

  what can they know of life?

  of death?

  Precocious Passion Passed

  (A Lament)

  A colorless autumn field;

  dried grass moving in the wind

  waiting for the fire;

  all that remains

  of
love once sown here.

  We called this place our heaven:

  a song-filled haven

  where we hid

  our sinful pleasures.

  In the passion of Summer

  it surely was,

  but now smoke rises

  as a different fire burns.

  I watch

  a hungry fire consume that past

  until nothing remains

  but blackened, barren ground

  exposed to rain and wind.

  I cry in silence,

  knowing my tears can never bring back

  summer’s sweetness

  nor be enough to saturate the soil

  and yet the floodgates open

  and tears flow like rain

  upon a thirsty soil.

  Primordial Passion

  Tara and I met one day

  on the golden shore

  of an uncharted island:

  it could have been on earth.

  I sailed in from the sky

  on silent silver wings;

  Tara emerged to greet me

  from the tossing blue sea:

  I stepped away

  from my silver suit

  and lay upon the singing sands.

  Tara unveiled her body

  from the seaweed cover

  mermaids often hide in:

  We gave ourselves a day

  such as would make

  the Devil himself, blush!

  It matters not

  for to us that day

  it was what is called love:

  she wanted the child.

  Priorities

  To welcome me today:

  a cold, empty, gray shore

  and even colder waves

  crawling hungrily over the sand...

  A smog-filtered sun rising

  hesitantly above denuded trees

  casting uncertain light

  through dissipating shadows of night.

  Tears fill my eyes.

  Why?

  Why must I think of those thousands

  condemned to death today

  because so few understand

  the rhythm of life;

  so few accept the call of compassion

  that would change everything?

  That could even stop death?

  That would stop the spread of war?

  And I really wonder:

  Do we need military forces and weaponry

  To protect our way of life?

  By what law do we deny others

  the right to their own way of life?

  How great can such a law be,

  when children die of hunger

  and the homeless fall in the streets?

  What if we took all that we spend

  defending or protecting ourselves

  to alleviate poverty; to feed the hungry:

  whom would we have to fear then?

  Ah, but so impossible, isn't it.

  I feel a fathomless sorrow

  for wasted lives and pointless deaths

  as greed spreads hungrily over this world,

  dragging death in its wake:

  if we refuse to see, who then

  shall teach us of empathy and compassion?

  Profit

  To profit from others’ failures

  one need only reject life's simplicity

  and elevate the complex

  to godly status!

  How easy it is then to maintain power

  over the ignorant and the simple

  at no cost to oneself!

  Rulers rule

  for a better life, they say;

  preachers preach

  to keep us from hell, they say;

  doctors poke and frown

  over our physical no-no’s

  for the sake of health, they say;

  judges pronounce

  over our law-breaking...

  for law and

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