homeless as our fires our destiny wandering we are stewards of our own making skewers arrange us each with our own effigy let us rename ourselves in water and mire

broken chimes renew our language for our seed
whispering
for our seed
chanting
for our seed
baiting
comfort comes for a few

leaping across divides not knowing from whence the torch that is leading brazing scorching the air urging to murder onward desolation onward to despair

homeless as the fires of our destiny we are the stewards of our own making raking plundering protecting needing our fears our escapes our reaping

our souls are wonders in dust rabid and one eyed staring ablaze with tomorrow we howl for our rapture

I: I understand you have something you would like to share today.

FR: Yes, I do. I wanted to tell someone that could publicize this because I feel it speaks to a few concerns I have regarding the way we treat our fellow men and the creatures that share the planet. You see, I was walking in a place that had been publicized on the internet as a public walking trail. It was a tree farm so it sounded like a place that would be a nice afternoon walk. While I was walking in the back of the tree farm, under the power lines I noticed some strange rubbings on felled trees along a slope leading down between two lakes.

I: What kind of rubbings, like a deer?

FR: No, a deer will sharpen its antlers on a standing tree late in the year, or simulate an attack with another deer by attacking the tree with its antlers. They will also use a tree to scratch themselves as you can imagine. No, these were cut logs that were lying near the tree lines on either side of the trail and had been pecked and shredded, as you can see by the photos I have shown you.

I: What do you think caused these rubbings?

FR: Well, as I described to you earlier, I had noticed very large hoof prints that were not a deer’s but similar, as I walked along this trail. I came over a crest and noticed a large bird dropping, larger than a turkey’s, and was quite amazed as you can imagine. I was taking pictures of this bird dropping when I turned to my left and noticed the head of what I first imagined to be a deer, but I quickly realized it wasn’t a deer as my eyes focused on it. I sort of stood there stunned as I watched because I realized it was an ostrich.

I: And what did this ostrich do?

FR: It seemed like a tame animal that realized it was in unfamiliar surroundings because it didn’t race away or make a sound. It sort of nonchalantly trotted into the woods. I walked over the crest with my camera raised but it had vanished. I walked back and forth along the tree line but I had lost sight of it.

I: Did you notify the owner of the property?

FR: That’s the strange part of the story, oddly enough. As I mentioned, I had done an internet search earlier in the day to find walking trails in the area. When I arrived there were no posted No Trespassing signs, and there were signs denoting parking areas. I made inquiry of the neighbors and no one seemed to be able to tell me whom to ask regarding walking on the property. It was listed as a walking trail with the hours of 9 to 6PM. So I drove to the back and began my walk. Well, after I had seen the animal, and this was in mid April, I did an internet search to determine if I had seen an ostrich or an emu. I am quite certain this was an ostrich as an emu has a pointed beak and this had a rounded, soft looking beak. Anyway, a few weeks later I returned to this property hoping to find evidence of the bird, and was walking along a trail that eventually led past a pond where there were two houses. I could see no evidence of the animal save for prints that may have been that of a large deer, but I feel were probably left by a female ostrich.

I:What makes you say that?

FR: The ostrich has a cloven hoof, like a deer. The animal I saw stood around 5 1/2 to 6 ft face to face, with its back around 4 1/2 feet high.

I: But you had only seen its hoof prints during your second visit?

FR: Yes, unfortunately. As I said, I realized I was walking along a path that seemed to wind around the pond to one of the houses on the other side and I felt I should depart that area. As I was leaving this area kids driving 2-3 quads drove past me on the trail. I had a jam in my digital camera, I was taking pictures of the flowering plants along the path, when a man on a quad approached me from the opposite direction, coming towards the house and asked me what I was doing there. I asked him if I was now on private property and have gave me a mean look like he was going to shoot me or something.

I: (laughs)

FR: It’s really not that funny because when you are alone in the woods on private property an owner can do things to you and claim self defense. If you are the trespasser, well, put it this way, dead men can’t talk.

I: I see. I guess I didn’t think of that.

FR: Well you know, this brings me to one reason I wanted to talk about this particular incident, and that is the pervasive idea of threat we have in America, and why it is a danger for the average person to be carrying firearms. It is often said that guns don’t kill people, that people with guns kill people. And that is true, but the saying misdirects attention from the person. It is the person wrought with fear, with the thought of threat to himself who kills someone or escalates a situation beyond control.

I: Did this man have a gun?

FR: Not that I am aware of. No, it was the dialogue that he used that caused alarm.

I: Why? What did he say?

FR: Well, after explaining that I was there because I had done an internet search for walking trails and that this was a place that was listed.. well, before I could really explain much further he cut me off to tell me that the trails were only open during Christmas Season. I asked him if he was the owner and he nodded his head. I told him that is not what was implied on the internet search. Then the man explained that in fact his Father in Law was the original owner and had listed the farm as a walking trail and that he was not aware of how the listing was worded. He asked me again what I was doing and I told him I was walking. He didn’t seem to believe that and continued to give me mean looks. I tried to reassure him I would not have been walking on the property if it weren’t listed on the internet. He went on to explain to me that he had a daughter.

I: What did that have to do with anything?

FR: This is what I am saying. He told me had a daughter and he didn’t need people walking around there on HIS property. He pointed out his sons had just driven by me on their Quads and that he didn’t need people hanging around them that he didn’t know.

I: (laughs) sorry. It isn’t funny.

FR: No, it’s not, because it points to the fact that we are a nation of people ready to shoot, to harm, to injure someone for trespassing. The fact of the matter is that, what, 3 in 1000 exhibit sociopathic behavior, yet a man smiles at a toddler in the supermarket and the mother gives him a dirty look. I don’t know if it’s because we watch too much television or we are simply all too ready to justify our hatred towards one another and justify our violence. The idea that a middle aged guy walking in the woods in a place he thinks is a walking trail can be confronted by someone filled with that much fear, well it can be a very scary thing anywhere you live in America.

I: And you told him about the ostrich?

FR: Yes, and when I told him his body language loosened considerably, he looked away and smiled. He turned back to me and said “you mean an emu?” And I said that I thought that it was an ostrich, but couldn’t be quite certain it wasn’t an emu. He asked if I had seen tracks. I told him I had, and then he gave me a look like he didn’t believe me.

I: After he pretty much told you with his body language he had seen it or knew about it.

FR: Exactly. I told him I had pictures but they were on my computer. I then asked him point blank if he had seen it and he said no.

I: hah! why did he suggest you had seen an emu instead of an ostrich?

FR: Well, it’s becoming pretty obvious to me by now what has happened to this animal. Anyway, he went on to inform me that he hunts back there all the time and that he had never seen anything like that. I thought it best to get out of there ASAP because, well, as you can imagine there was someone in danger there, and it wasn’t this man’s daughter. So I again apologized and walked back to my car and the man rode his quad back to the house. When I got to my car the sons were riding along the trail and drove past my car. The fact the man wasn’t concerned at all indicated to me that a peaceful animal met its demise.

I: You don’t know that for sure.

FR: No, and I never will, unfortunately. The ostrich can live in the wild during a Michigan Winter if it survives the rifle. This animal belonged to someone. However, there weren’t any ostrich farms nearby to contact so Animal Control was the only agency that had any authority to look into the matter since the ostrich is not a regulated animal. This was probably a female ostrich who was doing what she naturally would be doing in the springtime in this area, looking for a mate or looking to lay eggs. Ostrich meat is a very valuable commodity, let’s be honest.

I: And what do you hope comes from your interview here?

FR: Public awareness. A self examination. We are a people willing to entertain the idea that a trespasser is a rapist or a murder, ready to do threat and entertain harm to someone simply for being on our property when the fact of the matter is that even burglars and thieves are not murderers or rapists. You might say “well, I’m not willing to take a chance that you might be the one in one hundred or two hundred thousand.” And the truth is readiness to kill over property rights seems to be quite an American idea. A Canadian will tell of burglars who stole things from his house and then look at you as if you are insane if you ask him if he carries a gun because he knows the burglar is just going to steal. When the first Americans came to this country they brought with them this idea of killing to protect their property, while the natives would see an open campfire with cooking utensils and perceive it as abandoned, finished with. The concept of belonging to one particular person didn’t even register with them. No, Americans are quite insane with their paranoia over property, so much so that they are willing to think the worst of their fellow men simply because they are afraid that their trust would be misplaced.

I: And then perhaps justify shooting a valuable animal because it is on their property.

FR: Or their father-in-law’s.

men gave me names, attributed to me their deeds which they hide from themselves, while i sired the spirit in the sky, not those who point to heaven, point to myths and heroes and not i, for i am from the sky, and there is no heaven up here. men invited titans to bridge the gap between man and i, and rabelais made fools of their titans, made jokes of their lies, undercover of fear, wrote rabelais, lest he die.

but the crow is always wandering, though stupid myths name him the coward. he is the humane, he is the keeper of the brains, the blood and the flesh, he is death to the keepers of lies. so let the stupid have their myths and put themselves in the ground denouncing the crow, the one who would take them to the sky. he is with you, and with the fools of the land, the fools of prosperity, the fools that steal with the stroke of a pen with their sales and their smiling lies.

the crow is sired by mars and neptune who fought to a draw for the womb of venus, he came forth from a fire and was taught by vulcan, he is unjust to those who abuse authority, unjust to those who seek power, unjust to those denigrate the lowly, and from birth he has been recognized and hated by them wherever he may be. but pluto was looking over the crow when he was born and always stands near whispering in his ear, and the crow’s words buzz around men like a pestering fly.

and so with the spirit of his fathers, mars and neptune, and the hot love of mother venus, he snipes at men who would be gods, and the gods that would be men, he rejects the home of union, for it is not in his blood. he pronounces against the gifted of men, and rebukes them for their designs, for the wars they make against each other and because they are selfish, arrogant and blind.

I am Uranus. i do not lie in union with woman or man in procreation, but only out of desire. i have given man the crow. that is my gift to man.

discarding what’s been hiding in every moment that was preceding here we are in the vacuum pulled into the echoes of a mother’s breathing one more chance on our knees and pleading fastening our hopes, conceding, slapping our souls enslaved in the place of our breeding witnessing our lives in the hopes of misleading damning our bones to the poles of our dreaming.

our hopes will survive.

so what i try to accomplish is to build a mood so that the lay of the lyric transcends written quality and acts as a player on an instrument tugging at your own internal dialogue. this i do with my technique of binary syllabication. it is a form of open beginnings and endings meant to be spoken but not aloud. or perhaps it is, mind you(haha) in your mind so that reader response dictates the rhythm and the cadence of the words. the technique bares a strong resemblance to spoken hip hop, but i am no hip hop artist and will not place my scribblings in the realm of an art that is the expression for so many millions. also, the lyric is meant to play the band in your head for accompaniment for what you are reading. this may be joni mitchell ot tool., abba or the latest hip hop master. excursions in mood and emotion would be an appropro title to a chapbook of my so-called poetry.

thanks again.

peace

accosters on the plain drawers of the drawer of the time of the pain through landscapes of color awakening sums of harrowing transplants girders of the flame punctual perfect inhumane.

crippled with fences across dead poplars we spent our time in dead parlors there waiting on the tides

flames of visions of nativity grinding pursing scrambling and decaying controlled and confining scattered to the outposts of our great surrounding twelve rings of Saturn broken and fallen demystified in milky eyes and glazed pupils.

we were once the controllers controlling the dust.

If this is your first telescope you probably will be denied a refund even though it came in the box like that. These are really just expensive toys. For the price it is certainly not a bargain.

the little girl is weeping her hand is bleeding but no one is there to brush the hair from her eye no one to to hold her stare and answer why she pays tribute to a master race that gave a face of love and hope and all that is sacred meant to stay

it all passed away because the stewards chose to die

in the east there was glory in the west there was praise in the south there were hopes and in the north there were graves. the four corners brought the soldiers with poker faces representatives of the races that would mirror the generals the mockers the haters the arrangers of the one great fear. there is there was but there would never be the panic among them that would save us.

gorgons turned their faces on them

and mother dropped into the earth and one by one her sons made excuses why they scattered her ashes to the sky why they closed the doors to worlds to which they would never fly

indigo birds crisscross the sky a little girl wonders if she is gonna die

i think they wanna kill me, daddy.

and then it is pointed out to me that they have their breed on earth too below the ground beneath the seas and the trouble is what troubles me is the mind they use to carry out their deeds. weapons are built for huge playgrounds and sandpiles in the middle east and in far away deserts covert ops carry out missions of peace.

how many times can we blow up can we irradiate a grain of sand?

“Brethren, Mr. Herbert W. Armstrong was one of the first radio preachers on the air way back in 1925, and used his own radio broadcast as an analogy for how Satan works. Form his very first broadcasts he would tell us how Satan is the Prince of the Power of the Air. You can imagine how a radio can broadcast any of a number of different radio signals depending non which station you tune it to. To listen to your favorite radio station you simply turn the radio dial. Now, we have ample evidence that time travelers, or interdimensional, interstellar travelers are among us and examining us, and are tracking us with implanted devices to monitor and control those of whom they are experimenting with.

Now, have you ever wondered why you listen to certain music? Music is a language, whether or not you have ever thought of it that way. It is a very complex system of linguistics designed to effect our emotions and moods. For those of you who are musicians this should be a simple concept to comprehend. Most of you have a dominant chord, or pitch that you seem to always wander back to. You might be quite versed in a wide variety music, explore the intricacies of scales and keys, but there seems to be a dominant theme or pitch which your music returns to time and again, a home key, chord. It is because of the reaction of your viscera to the vibrations of the individual notes within that key or chord. I won’t get into music theory, but there is also a difference in the way your body reacts to stringed instruments, woodwinds, brass or percussion. Ancient Americans have a custom which used the sound of a pluck string to induce out of body of experiences. It could be used in conjunction with the river or the wind in order to assist the soul to travel.

Travis Walton, the lumberman from Arizona who was with a work crew when the group spotted a UFO, and whom vanished for a number of days, spoke about the sounds of the craft that took him. Now, as he approached it he could hear a sound he could feel as much as he could hear, a combination of low hums and high pitch sounds. What does that sound like to you? Anybody? That’s right, Rock and Roll music.

Now, in a radio interview, the son of the man who brought home some of the debris from 1947 wreckage near Roswell, New Mexico, I am sorry, his name escapes me, anyway, he said the console or the metal was covered with a hieroglyph that appeared to be geometrical markings of sort. Now, these sound like the markings of an advanced alphabet, mathematics and linguistics melded together. Now, some of you may know my young friend Adam who claims to be an abductee, or and experiencer. Well Adam has shown me a notebook of what he calls music language. This language is not like the music notation you and I were taught in High School. No, it isn’t like that at all. It is more like a mathematical equation for guitar language. It is a calculation of a string’s vibrations as it is plucked and fingered. The notes are like the letters of an alphabet, the fingered string are the vowels, according to Adam, there are more vowels than consonants in this particular language, and the plectrum, or plucking of the strings are the consonants. The vibrations are figured mathematically, and as you can imagine, when you start combining two or more strings as exponential factors the equation can get quite complicated. Now, imagine being able to read this equation as you are playing? Imagine reading this equation as language? Imagine instead of an alphabet, the english alphabet for example, you used a metric equation to express voice inflection? The voice is an instrument. We are talking about linguistics here. We would have the voice of a robot with no voice inflection. The human voice is a genuine expression that would take an infinitive mathematical equation to express an individual’s unique voice characteristics. Therefor, the alphabet serves as a linguistic shorthand to engage the listener to imagine the voice of another in text. Possibly, the writing that was seen on the debris recovered at Roswell was an advanced alphabet that included mathematical function to express language for a race of people who do not use spoken phonetics, rather telepathy as a form of communication. I will have Adam’s notebook on display in the back for those who wish to look at it later.

Now, some people say that no one is special. Well, I call bullshit, brethren, because that is communism. That kind of thinking really says “no one is special. We are all the same.” Nonsense. We are ALL special. We are ALL unique. We all need to be recognized for our unique qualities. THAT is what America is supposed to be about, the recognition of the individual, the individual with his own civil rights.

Did you ever see the digits of aliens in the drawings provided by abductees, brethren? Have you noticed their hands and wondered how they could use a surgeon’s scalpel, or do anything complex with those hands and fingers? Have you noticed their looks? Accept the Nordics, they are all ugly little hairless creatures, not at all like the God described in Genesis who had eyes of fire and white hair like cotton. Not much is ever reported about what any of these creatures do, including the Nordics, with their hands. Did you ever wonder? If any being is going to survive or even examine this world we live in they will have to have the use of the most complex instrument of all, the human hand. With it we not only create the greatest of our communicatory achievements of art, and all art is communication, but use them to perform nearly every one of our routine tasks, our most complex operations. Our hands play the musical notes on almost every instrument we have designed, they hold the sticks and match the tempo when we play drums, they hold the handle when we shovel the soil or swing an ax, they hold the wheel steady when we drive. The thumb and the forefinger are designed to hold the thimble while we thread a needle, they sew up the wound, scratch an itch, flick a bug.

But see, we have the experience of thousands of generations ingrained in our DNA. We are born with the support of our own evolution, the average alien hybrid is not, he is a bastard human, a pretender in our midst, neither alien nor human. He does not have the support of evolution, he does not have the support of our community, he does not have our blessing to be among us because he does not ask us. He does not care if we accept him. He has usurped his place among us by abducting our women and men and has no task as high as art, of human spirit of brotherhood. He has shoved our children aside so he may grow like a weed in our midst.

It is no badge of honor to have been abducted by these bastards, brethren! They creep into your lives like sneaky thieves, they abduct you without asking, they come into your home without asking, and when they are told they have no right to take you they say “yes, we do” without equivocation, without justification, and then they erase your memory because they have violated you. If they did have the right why don’t they justify themselves? They act as gods and some of you revere them. These beings are liars and are not to be trusted, brethren! Do not willingly go with them. When they take you demand that these hypocrites, these cowards justify their actions. Ask them what they are doing on OUR planet and why they don’t reveal themselves. Surely, beings of their intelligence can figure out a way to show us they are benevolent without risking their own lives in doing so. Demand that they PROVE they belong here! Demand that they make an adequate account of themselves! Demand that they prove THEY are worthy of being among US, brethren!

Now, with that in mind, some of our women are ostensibly used as part of an alien breeding program where these beings are using our women to hatch their own hybrid species. It is reported that these hybrids are neither alien nor human and need to be taught to be human. After the woman is used to hatch a newborn she is abducted and the baby taken from her usually before she knows what has happened. We have many, many reports from female abductees who have scheduled an abortion procedure and shown up at their appointments only to find the baby has already been aborted, later she be taken to nurture the child to instill human emotion. One thing to remember is that as repulsive as this is we should consider the life of the child. That hybrid came into existence through no fault of its own and cannot be a part of the society responsible for its reproduction, nor a of the society that incubated it. Our hearts should go out to these children brethren, and I ask that if you are in this situation where you are being asked to care for these children or to show these beings how to care for them we should consider the child, no matter how repugnant the actions of the alien society.Of course, I cannot make your decision for you. And I have to admit that I don’t know what I would do if I knew I were impregnated in that way. It is something you have to consult over, something you will need to share with God. Good day, brethren.”