TO PRESIDENT BUSH
This thin-lipped king with his helmeted head
Remembers the quirky fits of light
That tempt the cobra. No, the temper of the dove
Does not fit him; and nothing in the world
Can bring him to bless. He will not feed,
Nourish or help; in his rabbity hand
Lifted in the fading light of the hemlocks
Waves to them, gestures to the young to die.
Robert Bly
_____________________________The working class always has to march. It has been this way forever. And then you see the stinking 5% of the ruling class still smoke their Cuban cigars in the back-rooms, exempt from federal non-smoking regulations, while denying that Cuba actually exists.
Anyhow, street demonstrations are done and over with, clear bullshit. They don't change a thing. The only discourse right now is to act locally - and fuck globally....
I don't wish to be a total pessimist, believe me, I'm not. But politicians, even the ones with good intentions get corrupted within a short period of time. There seems to be no escape from this trend. It is a waste of energy (if you have anything of that left) to demonstrate against the Bush administration, and also a waste of time in my eyes.
Instead we should start to create cells of independence, may it be in networking local businesses (we have a local currency where I live in the US, a good start) or just put more effort into sustaining and promoting local assets we already have on our hands.
I am a strong believer that peace can not be obtained through political means anymore within this system we currently are forced to subscribe to.
And even if I don't yet have the final cure, or a quick fix, I still manage to keep an upbeat and positive attitude.
So do you I hope!
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11 comments:
awesome pic
Yuck !
after the hillbilly style
the concentrationcamp look - boy,
you're seriously missing somethin
and it ain't Weetabi
U feel you can think better now ?
why not shave it all off and
keep your skull polished ?
makes the enemy ache
where it matters ;-)
Thanks Veronica - your comment makes better reading than a disgusted coitus interruptus ...
i think you look wonderful...inquisitive and fresh as a summer breeze.
Oh my God! Robert Bly is one of my favorite poets! I was reading what you quoted there, and enjoying it, and suddenly, boom! I was hit by the words "Robert Bly"! Have you read Morning Poems?? I've read through that book like 20 times. In addition to all his 60's-70's convoluted stuff.
I know he has published like maybe three books since Morning Poems, but I have not had the chance to go out and get them. I think I will go out and buy them and read them!!
Ibn
I took the poem out of a book I have that is called:
"The Rag and Bone Shop of the Heart" Poems for men
It is edited by and compiled by Ropert Bly, James Hillman and Michael Meade.
That particular poem I posted was actually done during the beginning of the first Gulf war - but I think it fits the present situation (and "junior") as well...
Zee, I like the notion of independent cells. I think it's a matter of influencing people around you and creating bigger cells. It does seem to be the only thing left. That, or a good sex scandal, ha! (that always seems to work better than protests, hmmm)
Ingrid
btw..nice picture. I do like it with the short hair, that's the luck with guys, they can get away with it. I did only 10yrs ago, but don't think I could get away with it now..
The Nelson Brewing Company (where I live) has a slogan too:
THINK GLOBALLY
DRINK LOCALLY
Go for local sanity - you really can hold local politician's toes to the fire. Also, go for regional independence by supporting the farmers and the arts.
Don't stop voting - even if you have to hold your nose.
I believe in the end, progress and truth holds firm - that's why King George is going down fast.
Go Zee...go!
...zee, good points
I ll think about those
but certainly in most Countries (that arent bigs, like USA)
IS very difficult to locate "adecuated" persons; who can think...
cheers
Who cares about looks when you continuously glance from the wrong angle?
I am Auschwitz, I am Hiroshima, I am Hitler, I am Bush, I am a forlorn African, I am Ghandi, I am Maria Theresa, I am you next door slacker, I am your prostitute, I am your doctor ... I am all that and more - because the pain of humanity weighs on me, all of humanity. I haven't lost my heart yet.
But you my friend, what do you have?
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