cryinforthedyin's blog

Little Child..runnin' wild..

Hold still... 001

There I see the United States.  An eagle feeding her chick..

I see old countries and new..with old borders..reclaimed or established..finding an example. 

I see those countries..those places of human existence..as the chick. 

In Sri Lanka now a situation exists that is one of anger..oppression..and wildly horrible implement..spreading like a wildfire..like a disease. 

Russia..from the wealthiest citizen..to the poorest humbled..has gone through a time of reassertion. 

It is world wide.  It is not our business but somehow up to us.  We must teach in example. 

What better way than the Golden Rule.  What better rules than the Bill of Rights.

What better purpose than love!

 

Peace Tony

A Friend in the Constitution

For the record..I am a liberal.  I saw a comment today and it is not the first time I have seen something that put 'originalists' or 'constitutionalists' in the context of conservatives.

Regardless of personal feeling about politically liberal or conservative..one either understands rights or does not.  That understanding, in my time, determines if they care about rights or do not.  It determines their capacity to exploit others badly or live the golden rule. 

In my long experience I have seen the bill of rights ignored basically by right wing people.  (Extreme Birchers..Neo Nazis)  In regard to that I suppose it is more correct to say poltical extremist..opportunists and oppressionistic officials or civil servants that ignore the precept and intent of our declaration of independence.  (Totalitarians, those who favor dicatorships etc.)

Personally..if a law does not meet constitutional muster I do not see it as a legality.  

I will say simply I am glad the constitution is our basis for all law in the United States.     

The bill of rights addresses who human beings are..not a way to control them.    

The first and fourth ammendments keep us safe from a police state in extreme times.  Without those guarantees how could we trust anyone in power?    

I consider the civil and human rights set forth in the constitution to be the most valuable asset of this country.  I believe it is what makes this country great. 

In addressing cynics, in these difficult financial times, I have said..'If the constitution holds..the economy will hold'. 

I endeavor to hold the path and promise to freedom..each minute of each day.

 

Peace Tony 

The Mad Ride..

Rudyard and Rasputin ride across the plain..Rudyard quips an easy joke..

Rasputin just insane..gallop hard and easy each with their own guard..

Rudyard with his words and humor..Rasputin stonin hard..

To insulate from fate in times of garble times of woe..

With wit for one..drugs for the other..oppress don't hurt so..

The horses in a lather..Rasputin has concern..Rudyard says 'damn the lather boy..

history will turn'..

The stallions that they rode were racing each the other fast..for ten miles know a

frothy sweat..will they..can they last..

The sky the only ceiling..a grassy plain the rug..one with stories to explain and laugh..

the other drugs.. women and with Mesmer..he sipped his alky brew..

the Cossacks sword and knife..and poets 'foggy dew'..

They plotted roads and thought for millions..story found for Noyes..

'The Highwayman'..was read as can by men who once were boys..

Into each town and villiage..into the dance drink Inne..

they know the time is all they have and all

they can win..

 

 

They had this thing in common..must have..must be..in poem..story glory..once again by me..Peace Tony

 

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Theta Ki Yipee Yi A

John DeMarco Original Sketch 001

Deep in thought about blues train wild royal pain plains remain..Cossack means 'free' Indian shootin'

If Rudyard Kipling met Rasputin..

In Yellowstone or Chinese paddock..would Kip ripped off been an addict..of Bolshevik revolt lootin' and horny corny old Rasputin..

Kipling toured the old U.S. and had doubts that West was Best..questioned Parks and hot dog snackin' found lackin' firecrackin'

Rasputin would play all wise..and drug and thug and hypnotize..assasins come to earn some gold he would cut them down to size..with few words told..placed well and wise..

Anastasia's royal blood..Rasputin dragged her through the mud..she agonized to be redeemed he got her loaded when she screamed..

As politburo brought all grief..politics excuse a thief..the game was old and twined with fate..urgent always..hour late..

Tartar barter?..make me laugh..they won't discuss much not by half..they will fight well..till meet the grave..their loincloth and name of 'brave'..now Russia rode a trolley car..they did not get very far..going to barns and strong man freaks..as topless neons sell antiques..

A world of mine and yours my friend..of money love and not again..of worthless and the worth for true..and what matters to me and you..slaves the Boer war you darn tootin..if Kipling had met Rasputin..

Now the fats down to the bone..and wierdo liars on each throne..proselytize ways of some men..who think they come and live again..but still explosives deadly shootin'

Will Kipling ever meet Rasputin? 

The name will change nothing..the game changes less..beauty light by day and night..or ugly and a mess..you out there who care..or glory young recruitin..in long love faith above..or money prositutin..alright the world will go to light..

When Kipling meets Rasputin..

 

Peace Tony

 

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Over The Fence..

Walrus waddup or Sea Lion Stratus

Look pal..I know what my shoes look like..I can't go to work bare flipper..so give 'em up..

Tale of The Foo Bird

Damn pigeons

Many years ago a professor of vast knowledge and experience assembled and engaged in a safari.  He had heard of the riches left by a EuroAsian expedition into Africa.  He researched the area extensively and then went to seek the fortune he needed and wanted to build an establishment to teach and research the wonders of the 'dark continent'.  (applicable to any continent inhabited by man)  In his company was his young dashing assitant..and the object of the assistant's ardor and affections his (the professor's) beautiful secretary.  They were going deep into the jungle.  There was in this area the Foo.  The Foo tribe had a sacred bird and also a delicious sense of irony..it seems.  When and if this bird shit on one it could not be washed off for a week.  If it was they immediately died.  The professor warned members of the safari but the locals needed no warning.  Four days later the unthinkable happened..the assistant was deemed land fill status by the Foo and the bird commited his wanton task.  The good looking assistant was adorned by a large smelly white turd on the top of his head.  He was perplexed..he was angry..he was impatient and frustrated.  Finally after just three days the unbelieveing assistant was heard to say..'I am not going to walk around with this shit on my head'..and washed it off.  These were his last words as he immediaely died.  The moral of this story is..'If the Foo shits wear it'.  Now that I have posted this old preposterous joke..I must say..it does lend question to the authenticity and reason of many laws.  I really..really..am opposed to the death penalty.

 

'One way or the other..this darkness got to give'..Ron 'Pigpen' McKernan..Peace  Tony

 

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Big City Bands..

Yeah I play Jazz

Wally Wolfgang would strut his stuff in jazz.  One of my first piano players..he was of Russian heritage.  This showed in the classical influence of his multimode approach.  He never did forget the simple blues techniques of the pentatonic scales..a melody pleasing to the ear. 

He was lost when vigilante antidog protesters tried to stop him from playing...We will miss you Wally..

I could never understand why this story was not deemed newsworthy..live and learn..

Sorrento Waterfall

I do not know it.  I did not know it then.  Does it still exist?

One day an old friend and I went out into Sorrento Canyon.  It was a place of beauty..snuggled against the foothills to the W. of Rancho Santa Fe..easy to get to..somehow ignored, at the time, by greed.  Nature had its way there.  (The area of the canyon is Carmel Valley..now known for computor factories and software development..S.D. 'silcone valley')  Dewey and I took off that morning.  We were enjoying the day..being young men..with enhanced senses.  We grabbed a couple of single shot .22 rifles..(for lions tigers and bears) and set out hitchhiking from La Jolla.  We got a ride as far as Solana Beach.  The car turned right toward the foothills where we got off after about a mile.  We began our journey.  It was a beautiful day.  We exchanged stories..philosophy and then, as folks will do, fell predictably silent. 

As the day waned on and my thoughts moved with it..the sun went behind a cloud.  We had walked past meadows with cows grazing..we had seen bush rabbits.  We had enjoyed the sun on a sunny day.  The air was clear and wonderful.  With a cloud it all changed for me.  It became serious and demanded my attention.  A thought passed..will I slip into eternity now?..am I happy with what I have done..how self serving?..We came on a waterfall..the immediate landscape changed from plants and animals to marcesite..left by the volcano of a lost time..granite boulders two stories high..going God knows how deep into the earth..and the waterfall..the beautiful..damnable waterfall..we both walked quickly down the gentle slate slope toward the 'fall..it went into a pond..creating a whirlpool of sorts..and then a little of the water went over a slate partition/bridge, 2' wide and 8-12' deep, that had a hole of indeterminate size where most of the water crashed through at high velocity.  I was to find this was Dewey's place.  In later years Castenada would define this as a 'Power Place'. 

I was spellbound by the waterfall..where did the water come from?..tons of it..crashing over a boulder that extended out and appeared to threaten breaking up and falling into the whirlpool..crushing anything stupid enough to be in its path.  I turned and saw my friend going back up the slope.  I went to follow, as friends sometimes do; I could not..as I walked up the slope it was like trying to walk against a gravity anomoly..such as the one at Knotts Berry Farm..I felt heavy..I called to his retreating back..I called again and again..he ignored me..leaving me to find strength.  I sat and thought.  My thoughts on eternity returned..NO..I stood and following advice of boy scouts..the nra..and the civil air patrol..fired my rifle three times in the air..of course it was barely audible there..for the crash of the waterfall..to my interest and morbid delight..there was a crack high in the boulder..an inch across and spanning the top third from the apex down and across a, relative to the boulder, small area.  The crack..cracked..then it CRACKED..so loud..it threatened to break up the rock and fall..to splash the whirling pond..me and everything else..Facing the hill directly across the little bridge I looked to my right..at the tranquill pussy willows and weeping willow trees..the white oak and 'Tom Dooley'..running through my head in incongruent insanity..The cracks came..I looked for reason..I looked for sanity..I looked to the bridge..my thoughts returned to me..the place I had faltered..the place I had not taken the time for..in my mind.  There was but one way for me..the hole..I would make a postive mark..I would dive and trust my strength..keeping my breath..emerging on the other side..or dying stuck in a slate hole..I threw my wallet out to a dry place in the marsh to my right for that is where I needed to be..I unloaded and threw the .22..I dove toward the hole through the bridge..the rock cracked..in a moment I was sliding through the bridge to the other side..I walked to my wallet..my identity..I picked up the bang bang toy..my protection in the fierce jungle..

For that day I understood courage..for always I understood how to recognize..friendship

The stars shone as I made my way home..soggy..with a .22 (bolt removed)..the air clear and beautiful..

When Dewey saw me dragging in he laughed..as well he could..as well he may have..

I thanked God I was alive..

  

I have searched for the waterfall with no result..Peace Tony

 

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In Any Century..

Sanne's work

"Who is also aware of the tremendous risk involved in faith..this [is] subjectivity at its height"  Seren Kierkesgaard (1813-1865)

"God is dead"  Friedrich Nietzsche (1844-1900)

"One cannot step twice in the same river"  (Heraclitus..ca 540ca 480 BCE)

Of these three well known quotes I like and live the last best.  It is the oldest..and as true today.

 

Artwork..Sanne Glissov..Dk.

THE DAILY QUESTION..(easier)

In these  living moments time..as I think and write each rhyme..every no with every 'tis..do stars know..what time it is..

Said before..in years past..what to toss..what will last..rob in glory..sneak to steal..what to think on what to feel..

Every answer..each surmise..is found..beauty..a lover's eyes..

splits each feeling from each show..just fronting love..

wher'ere I go..

Peace Tony

 

 

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