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Aztec Warrior Oct 2015
ON THE TRAIN

Intro:
   1) “To be or not to be. That is the question.”
        – Shakespeare, from “Hamlet”

   2) “There is but one philosophical problem, and that is suicide. Whether or not the world has 3 dimensions or the mind 9 or 12 categories, comes afterward.”
        – Albert Camus, from “The Myth of Sisyphus”
    
   3) “Yes, I thought. You can ponder this or analyze that til the cows come home, but the real question is whether all your pondering and analysis will convince you that life is worth living.”
        – Brian Greene, from “The Fabric of the Cosmos”
    
    4) “ Now when you come up against the great gulf that often, and even generally, exists between the conditions and suffering of the masses of people, on the one hand, and what you are able to do about that at any given point - when you run up against that repeatedly, everyone feels a definite pull which expresses itself in moral terms: how can you stand by and not do something about what’s happening to the masses of people?
          – Bob Avakian, from “BAsics”  
_____

World music colors the air
with Mexico, Ireland, India,
the Middle East and Africa.
Colors-rich, deep, nothing pastel,
primeval
and it’s hard to sit still,
hold my  peace
while these rhythms paint
the pulse of my body.
I can feel the sticky humidity
of jungles fragrant with bougainvillea,
and bromiliades dangle
from every note of Les Nubians.
Talking Drums answer in response.
While trumpets call out
staccato style,
hot with salsa,
a reflection of my uneasy mind
wondering what I will find.
In spite of these colors,
and tunes,
shadows hide in these runes;
it isn’t an easy ride.
*
How do you write about dying?
Could I write a poem
the way Mozart wrote his “Requiem”;
feverish, delusional
yet his notes flowed from his fingers
like a tempest brewing
in an open flame.
While my words are shards,
splintered in millions
trying to make some sense.
Yet this pen won’t leave my hand
it demands to be heard.
*

“Have a nice trip home”, they said.
But these nerves are tensed;
they vibrate
the way this train is bouncing
on the tracks.
Within the swirl of colors and words,
stirred and mixed musically,
we raise our questions,
speak our art
and tell our stories.
There have been many.
Countless, like endless grains of sand
washed ashore in the cosmos.
But what happens when they end?
What if a story winks out
like a dying sun losing its light
as it becomes a black hole.
Or a symphony comes to its last note.
Then what?
Will there ever be another?
A continuance
or something new?
Extinction is final -
it is a *******.
***
Dad, you say that it matters,
that this family name
has reached its last branch.
But why?
Humanity will go on.
What is in a name anyway?
And how did it come about, our name?
But more, what have we done?
Yes, we existed.
We loved, fought and died.
We played, married,
raised family and did what we thought right.
But have we disturbed the universe;
make waves in the ocean’s tide?
More importantly,
did we live and die for the people;
sacrifice all just to make the leaps
to change the world?
Here is an infinite truth:
billions have come and gone
now lost to history;
billions more will do the same.
Our lives are finite,
yet change and matter,
in one form or another
is infinite.
In this ever changing world,
have we strained to the limits
to touch matter,
affect its taste;
attempt to move its direction
in the service of human kind?
Have we simply gone along with the way things are?
Or, have we made a difference?
Have we really lived?

And isn’t this the only truly philosophical question!
_________
Conclusion: Further thoughts:
     1) “But it is only through fearless engagement that we can learn our own limits. It’s only through the rational pursuit of theories, even those that whisk us into strange and unfamiliar domains, that we stand a chance of revealing the expanse of reality.”
          – Brian Greene, from “Hidden Reality”

     2) “Your life is going to be about something - or it’s going to be about nothing. And there is nothing greater your life can be about that contributing whatever you can to the revolutionary transformation of society and the world, to put an end to all systems and relations of oppression and exploitation and all unnecessary suffering and destruction that goes along with them.”
          –Bob Avakian, from “BAsics”

4/30.12 (began 2/12/12)

https://youtu.be/rkhtjCr2fF4
Music: Angelique Kidjo, "Voodoo Child"
I wrote this coming home from a trip to see my parents and listening to World music
Aztec Warrior Oct 2015
A Winter’s Tale


It was a Winter’s tale
you told as soft,
fluffy snow,
fell around us.
Your eyes danced excitedly
with the laughter in your heart,
as you announced,
“we are, all of us,
miracles;
tied together
as one.
And when we die
we fill the sky
with our light.
We become the stars.”
Castor,
Cassiopeia
Cepheus.
~~~~~~
“Do you believe in miracles?”
~~~~~~
No,
not really.
There is no reason
for our existence
and yet,
we are tied together
in countless ways.
I believe our light
returns to the star stuff
from which we were born.
Andromeda,
Gemini
Pleiades...
~~~~~~
I believe
in you;
light’s miracle
found twinkling
in your smile.
Tempting me
the way Benny
enticed Joon.
The way Peter Lake
kissed Beverly Penn.
~~~~~~
No,
I don’t believe in miracles.
But, I believe
in the miracle
that is
Cassiopeia,
Pollux,
Cepheus....
The light
I found in you.

11.23.14*
https://youtu.be/lNy4UNY5KW8
I wrote this poem for/to a dear sweet friend under a different pen name, almost a year ago. I wanted to share it here. It is part of a series of poems but I will only post this one.
Aztec Warrior Oct 2015
CHANGES

.....”and if the elevator breaks down,
go crazy!”
--Prince, from “Purple Rain”
~~~~~
Is it possible to
hear the rain whisper
to the forest
as it falls between
thirsty trees;
as it converses
dark oboe concertos
with musky,
leaf cluttered earth?
Or to follow
water’s cycle
from the calmness
of the hurricane’s eye,
seeking each molecule
as it links with
oxygen green skies?
~~~~~
Impossible?
But, these random acts,
riotous developments,
are common place,
hum drum, every day
rainbow dreaming
compared to the
possibilities of human
creativity
interactions
and conscious probabilities,
of touching inside
subatomic flows,or standing beside
Jupiter’s cyclops eye
as it penetrates into the soul of
a wicked Miles Be-Bop note
exploding the myth of
humanities inhumanity!
~~~~~
****!
Genghis Khan,
Attila the ***
were angels
gleefully dancing
on the head of a pin
compared to the atrocities of
“human nature” fables
of “selfish genes”,
“bell curves”,
Broca’s brains,
or some god fed, bred
morality of “original sin”,
and “semper fidelis”.
Even Alexander,
slaughtering only hundreds of thousands
in his conquests
built libraries and
stood “enlightened”
compared to today
“****’em all, let God
sort it all out” mentality;
or a more accepted version,
“why, some of my best friends are...”
~~~~~
Have you ever dreamed
a different reality?
Of feeling the wind
in a Van Gogh wheat field?
Or, flying on his “Starry Night” beauty?
Have you ever hoped of being a “Centennial Person”?
Human,
not the robot
powerless automaton
making a handful prosper
while we bleed
nuts and bolts of
everything for a price,
everything for sale.
While for most, we need
need, just to live.
And they say
I am insane
crazy
out of my mind!
Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha!!
Excuse me as I laugh
in your face,
as I look to create a place
to take off my hat
relax, and call home.
Like the black Panther,
Quetzal, or Leopard
I too seek the musky
earth and canopy
of verdurous rain forests;
to bath in crystal,
sun reflecting mists
of mile high water falls;
to drink from mineral rich
mountain streams.
~~~~~
Like sister Elephants
raising their new generations,
discussing the re-emergence of Kalahari
after a Spring thunder storm,
I seek the unfettered
creativity
collectively
voluntary comradery
of human minds
working for the common good,
sharing in the common efforts
of a world made better
as future generations
discuss blue green
oceans where we all
first emerged so many
millennium ago.
~~~~~
I am ready,
still fairly young.
Proletarian sisters, brothers
hand me a gun,
hurry cause
I can see the
Revolutionary People’s Army
storming old
**** encrusted
bourgeois citadels.
What force can stop us?
We are the mountain wind
sweeping down
thru valleys,
over plains.
We are irrepressible,
irresistible.
We have a world to win.

Aztec Warrior 10.4.15
Aztec Warrior Oct 2015
POEM 63
(A Very SERIOUS ‘Y’ Day Poem)


She calls herself
ninjawarriornoodlebumbles,
and she is all that and so much more.
She is a psychological thriller,
a physiological wonder,
a metaphorical super nova
with a heart that beats gold.
While she is way,
we’re talking light years here,
too old for me
and I will never ever
catch up to her zeal and maturity,
I can’t help but have goo goo eyes
and wave at her
at midnight
during a total,
full moon eclipse
as she giggles at my silliness.
Or, maybe it’s just laughter
cause I am so very young.

Aztec Warrior 9.30.15

Note: for a friend, you know who you are!!
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