Written by Bruce James Clyde 2017, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: old abandoned engine, google pic
Wednesday, January 25, 2017
Train Of Thought
My daughter and son, got in on my 'current' train of thought. Hana thought 'Blimps' would be good, because, we are running out of 'earth surface territory'. I informed her, we don't lack surface territory. It's owned by rich guys, like Ted Turner, who started CNN, who has enough acreage, to give each of the victims of Fukushima, their own ranchette, and all of the people of Haite. Check out the ranch owned by Robert Redford. Our government owns millions and millions of acres, they have taken to themselves, and away from the 'original' natives here. They wont even let you walk on most of it. There's tons of land for everyone, and if we'd stop fighting each other, and 'concentrate',on urging the government, to re-open homesteading, on all that unused land, 'with regard to the environment, and animals that live there, we wouldn't necessarily, have to be 'cooped up' in the cities, like a KFC fryer. It would be safer, not to bunch up in cities, besides all the other considerations.
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2017, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: old abandoned engine, google pic
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2017, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: old abandoned engine, google pic
First Class For Everybody
I fail, also, to understand, why travel by air, must be limited to 'jet aircraft'. It's expensive, confining, a good way to contract disease, and it's 'noise polluting', to all of the creatures on earth. It creates stress, by various means...the cue, the fear of flying, jet lag, 'canned air' poisoning. Why not re-institute air travel, by 'blimp'. It's classy, quiet, scenic, slower. But you get there, and you still have a heart and lungs left, when you do. You plan ahead. You don't travel, spur of the moment, just because, 'you're a 'first class' prick, and you can'. Instead of a meal in a bag, you get a cuisine meal. You make fewer trips, and you don't waste your time, 'visiting the relatives', when they wish, you'd stayed home anyway! If you really GOT to see them, you take a 'driverless car', cross country...takes about 3 weeks, there and back. You got a story to tell, instead of 'coming down with 'noro virus', on a jet plane. I don't know why we don't make life an adventure, instead of a 'sprint marathon'. It does not have to be this way, except we 'make it so!'
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2017, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: dirigible canyon, by adam varga
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2017, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: dirigible canyon, by adam varga
My Take On Driverless Cars
I saw a post on 'driverless cars', and issues over, how to insure them, and such. It made me think, 'driverless' might be a good idea, but there would have to be some standardization. First, a top speed of no more than 25 mph, in city. A whopping 35 mph on the open road. Second, 'an insurance tax' everyone pays...spread out over the population, should be way cheap, compared to personal car insurance. Third, 'weight restrictions', having to do with accident prevention. I'm sure there are tons more considerations. But consider this: No personal cars on the roads. You step in a car, it goes. It gets you there on time...regulated by traffic movement sensors, kind of like, leaving out from a freeway 'on ramp' light. No 'road rage'. Stress free travel, and you could sit and chat, play cards, read on the trip. Distance travel, camping, trailering...by prior arrangement, train, blimp, on foot. People would hike more, be in better health, Gyms would go out of business. Fat asses, would be 'seldom seen'. People would get used to it. Life would slow down. The environment, and other creatures would appreciate it...and live longer than a deer, rabbit or cat, in the headlights. No more 'road kill' specials at restaurants. The only things you need to give up, are personal addiction to 'ownership of wheels', slavery to auto insurance companies, and ten years of car payments...
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2017, at Deming New Mexico
Art: driverless cars, Shane Anderson photo
Monday, January 23, 2017
Those Made Mad
I don't usually, explain myself. The idea for this poem came of recent events, press with fake news, hyperbole. Of course, they, the news, would call themselves 'unintentioned'. But, I think, they are lying devils, straight out, and have so done, since 'the ooze'. Just 'make it up', and, the public take the hindmost. I think it creates 'madness', in a society, an instability...an 'unreality'. We suffer 'their' damnation! I liken it to Lewis Carroll's, 'Alice In Wonderland', the sort of surreal, dreamlike scape of that poor young girls adventure. I mention 'the devil', Jesus, and 'every day's damned madness', and liken it to 'sipping absinthe', as the thinkers and poet dreamer's, were wont to do, during the Victorian era, or just prior, of Lewis Carroll's time. We need not drink 'the green faery', absinthe, in these times. We have 'the news', to twist us into madness, but there is 'the green movement'...
Am I a 'watershed'? Thou pricks! Did Jesus kick at thou, or laugh prodigiously, there...rolling on the floor, his devil, daint'ly double stepping, horse shit, having stirred, his mouth eschew? You've kept us all amazed, entranced, enamored of such stunts, as you've performed...over thousands of years.
How long hast thou been here, bored to tits, by YOU? So, how do we get out of here? You take a dump, and flush us down 'the rabbit hole', or 'whack away the heads'? Croquet? Kick our balls across the green? How psychotically perfidious of thou! Did Lewis Carroll know? Well, of course he did! He played a good game!
He was there with you, a line or two, a day...to keep the wolf at bay, 'djinn' in the green bottle, some opiate of sanity, in every day's damned madness? He, a prelate of the cloth, knowing such, as devils hold for joy, had taken shelter there, or gat thou then, behind, for fear...of gas release, the press du jour!
I think, you doubly did, and kept your mouths shut, valor seeming best, for being silent, snorting like two hogs in the dust, milking every one you had, and on we went...making news of the day's event, forever and on, any which way...you choose! You can't be blamed, for there's nothing real in that, but the pain you caused...in those made mad!
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: Absinthe, google pic
Sunday, January 22, 2017
La Femme Parade
The masks come off. The gloves go on, so's now we see, t'was ever hid...neath smile that veil, a shrug's suggest, a painted clown's puerile, written on her face, deep crevices of asphalt war!
So now, the hamstrung harpies having home...to wait, upon a mate they hate, need do no more. Let his, beneath that yonder bridge round burn barrel be, mans fate, for we are 'feminist's, who rank divine...we think!
Ours are worlds to run, not his, let he, the brats of nightly chore, of morning kiss, then, manage off to yellow bus, for it is time to bare our breasts, to show the world what we are!
Embittered earthly goddesses, full fallen on hard times...lusting for the power of the witch's hame we lost, nor ever have the chance, so fine again, to make mans lot...a drudge!
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: a painted woman, google art
So now, the hamstrung harpies having home...to wait, upon a mate they hate, need do no more. Let his, beneath that yonder bridge round burn barrel be, mans fate, for we are 'feminist's, who rank divine...we think!
Ours are worlds to run, not his, let he, the brats of nightly chore, of morning kiss, then, manage off to yellow bus, for it is time to bare our breasts, to show the world what we are!
Embittered earthly goddesses, full fallen on hard times...lusting for the power of the witch's hame we lost, nor ever have the chance, so fine again, to make mans lot...a drudge!
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: a painted woman, google art
The Heaven You Deny
I will ask no forgiveness, of the lot, nor apologize...the truth I tell. Your slight, therefore, is childish, and elementary. For God alone, is in this house...the father of us all. Run then, children...run, rude and angry, down the streets of life...throwing off the robe, of respect, to the mighty...as if, you knew anything...at all.
It is distress, that you perform, while in this world, are beauty's beyond breath, and yet...you choose, the lesser of the two, to make some point, of error...solely, yours, while in yourself, you tell your futile 'eye'...what every selfish thing you've done is worth, thou simple fools. You crush the flowers, in the field...to have your way!
The world will mend. Its tears, were shed, will wash away the ugliness you've made, nor will remember any arrogance, you played, upon the stage...while camera's clicked away, for there are better things, than memory's of pain...to take one's time, and better things, that leave the earth rebuilt...that you chose not, to have a part!
Now, we have a start, and, I believe, a start, indeed...to heal this world, as heaven waits, and all her ships and angels, just beyond her gate...stand down, that children of the light, might have their time...preparing to depart. Then, on that day, when due is done, and time hath stopped...the ships will pull away, to take those children home, to the heaven you deny!
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: small Magellanic cloud, google pic
It is distress, that you perform, while in this world, are beauty's beyond breath, and yet...you choose, the lesser of the two, to make some point, of error...solely, yours, while in yourself, you tell your futile 'eye'...what every selfish thing you've done is worth, thou simple fools. You crush the flowers, in the field...to have your way!
The world will mend. Its tears, were shed, will wash away the ugliness you've made, nor will remember any arrogance, you played, upon the stage...while camera's clicked away, for there are better things, than memory's of pain...to take one's time, and better things, that leave the earth rebuilt...that you chose not, to have a part!
Now, we have a start, and, I believe, a start, indeed...to heal this world, as heaven waits, and all her ships and angels, just beyond her gate...stand down, that children of the light, might have their time...preparing to depart. Then, on that day, when due is done, and time hath stopped...the ships will pull away, to take those children home, to the heaven you deny!
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: small Magellanic cloud, google pic
A Day With The Dead
The shaman went, to the land of the dead. The sorcerer, beside him, flies buzzing round his head. Two fauns sat, witness, at the foot of the bed...beautiful creatures, of their kind, watching...
The shaman stared in her sea green eyes, her mate obliged to 'wonder why'? With deep respect, in the shaman's mind, he only 'thought', I mean no harm.
He turned, to see the sorcerer's light, as it entered him...sending him back, to the land of life, where he suffered many and many years on, but prays to return to that 'wond'rous' place, again.
"We do not die. We change", he said.
"We do not die. We change", he said.
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: fauns gamboling in the forest, by Leopold Franz Kowalski
Saturday, January 21, 2017
Silly Semblance Of Life
To those of you, who stood with evil, instead of against it, let me tell you...at a time, unknown to you...you will be taken, to answer for what you've done. But here is the bitterness of it. You will discover, when the beast, has withdrawn, for the light upon it...you are left 'alone'.
All the service that you paid, in hell's amusement...'perks' you swallowed, in the 'heady times', while other's suffered, will no longer be forthcoming, but the realization...'you were used!' You were used, and wanted to be used, because...you thought, 'it meant something!'
It meant 'nothing', to your master's. They left 'allegiance' long ago...sold it for a sou, the same as they've done you. Now, you must face 'that', you had bought off, you thought, but 'that' were priceless...and cannot be bought.
Now, you are an empty act, upon a lightless stage, all hollow notes and brass...sounding 'off', the world 'entire', ashamed of you. So dance there, in the dark...jigging, jigging on, that silly semblance of life, like, the damned 'hanged man', or woman...that you are!
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: The hanged man, Rider-Waite Tarot
All the service that you paid, in hell's amusement...'perks' you swallowed, in the 'heady times', while other's suffered, will no longer be forthcoming, but the realization...'you were used!' You were used, and wanted to be used, because...you thought, 'it meant something!'
It meant 'nothing', to your master's. They left 'allegiance' long ago...sold it for a sou, the same as they've done you. Now, you must face 'that', you had bought off, you thought, but 'that' were priceless...and cannot be bought.
Now, you are an empty act, upon a lightless stage, all hollow notes and brass...sounding 'off', the world 'entire', ashamed of you. So dance there, in the dark...jigging, jigging on, that silly semblance of life, like, the damned 'hanged man', or woman...that you are!
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: The hanged man, Rider-Waite Tarot
Friday, January 20, 2017
The Player
It's all going to 'catch up', don't you get it? It's coming for you! You played and you lied, and you played. You didn't care...while you were playing. You can blame other's, trash buildings, burn down cars, picket, protest, pack your nasty little signs...but it's still coming for you.
In Britain, they refer to 'P.C. Plod', the 'investigating law'. Over here, I don't know what they call it. I think, it's...inexorable justice! What it amounts to, is that, no matter what you do to 'fuck it, and forget it', you have broken law, both material and spiritual.
You thought, it would be easier, to inculcate EVERYONE, along with your self, that the fire would burn cooler, rather than clean your own closet, wipe your own porn, burn your own collective pizza boxes. You kept it all!
You signed on, for a place in hell, never supposing...YOU would stand in the dock, actually, while God watches you squirm! But you will. Treason has a price, and the judge was not I...but thee! For you said unto yourself, my treachery is worthy! By the way, your closet 'stinks!'
So you can look the question, right in the eye, and lie...like 'the bastard calf, at the bull', but it wont make a damn to the bull, anyway! He's gonna stomp your nuts like grapes, in the wine press of truth, as collective evidence mounts, to drown you...in the stuff!
You like 'snuff films', little children begging for their life, sex on video, sharing it on internet, everyone, a part, with your incrimination...your implication of indictment of them all, but you alone 'whispered them'...! You are the sneakiest one, but they are going down with you!
Oh, you celebrity , you...you 'television personality!' You will love this then, this 'hour of fame', forever and ever...every hidden thing, 'Alive!', on air...for all the world to blame, and you will be there, in the light of your own flame...sizzling!
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: tvdevil, by Hank Hinton
In Britain, they refer to 'P.C. Plod', the 'investigating law'. Over here, I don't know what they call it. I think, it's...inexorable justice! What it amounts to, is that, no matter what you do to 'fuck it, and forget it', you have broken law, both material and spiritual.
You thought, it would be easier, to inculcate EVERYONE, along with your self, that the fire would burn cooler, rather than clean your own closet, wipe your own porn, burn your own collective pizza boxes. You kept it all!
You signed on, for a place in hell, never supposing...YOU would stand in the dock, actually, while God watches you squirm! But you will. Treason has a price, and the judge was not I...but thee! For you said unto yourself, my treachery is worthy! By the way, your closet 'stinks!'
So you can look the question, right in the eye, and lie...like 'the bastard calf, at the bull', but it wont make a damn to the bull, anyway! He's gonna stomp your nuts like grapes, in the wine press of truth, as collective evidence mounts, to drown you...in the stuff!
You like 'snuff films', little children begging for their life, sex on video, sharing it on internet, everyone, a part, with your incrimination...your implication of indictment of them all, but you alone 'whispered them'...! You are the sneakiest one, but they are going down with you!
Oh, you celebrity , you...you 'television personality!' You will love this then, this 'hour of fame', forever and ever...every hidden thing, 'Alive!', on air...for all the world to blame, and you will be there, in the light of your own flame...sizzling!
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: tvdevil, by Hank Hinton
Monday, January 16, 2017
Well, That Doesn't Rhyme
I think some people 'look at my stuff', but few read it, because it's longer than 3 lines, and 'it SCREAMS...he has 'something to say'! Well, yes I do, and for your sake's, I hope you take the time. It's important. Most of it, is 'about the times', and issues we face, in these times.
I think some of you feel, you are 'beyond shock', but you may be shocked, by what you read, off of my pen! Some of you, may disdain from comment..."out of respect", but I think 'that's bullshit entire'! I think my stuff 'nails people', and offends them!
Didn't Jesus say something, about 'offending the offender's'? Yes, I believe he did. That's my job! But I don't mean it hostile'y. I mean it, from the bottom of a loving heart, that wants to awake the good souls, and cast 'the bad ones' into sleep...forever more.
I have nothing against you people, even though, your density and ignorance, and arrogance appall me. I would make friends of you all, if I could. 'Truth is not the mind killer'. Defiance, in the face of truth...is what eats you. We live in 'times of defiance', of every sage advice, and every classic wisdom.
People no longer 'accept correction'. Instead, they seek out other's to 'be at fault with', as though, the crowd may diminish...the fault at heart, as if it may go away, but it never will...until you admit, in yourself, a need to heal. I can hear you now..."Well, that doesn't rhyme!"
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: Thomas The Rhymer, by Kinuko
I think some of you feel, you are 'beyond shock', but you may be shocked, by what you read, off of my pen! Some of you, may disdain from comment..."out of respect", but I think 'that's bullshit entire'! I think my stuff 'nails people', and offends them!
Didn't Jesus say something, about 'offending the offender's'? Yes, I believe he did. That's my job! But I don't mean it hostile'y. I mean it, from the bottom of a loving heart, that wants to awake the good souls, and cast 'the bad ones' into sleep...forever more.
I have nothing against you people, even though, your density and ignorance, and arrogance appall me. I would make friends of you all, if I could. 'Truth is not the mind killer'. Defiance, in the face of truth...is what eats you. We live in 'times of defiance', of every sage advice, and every classic wisdom.
People no longer 'accept correction'. Instead, they seek out other's to 'be at fault with', as though, the crowd may diminish...the fault at heart, as if it may go away, but it never will...until you admit, in yourself, a need to heal. I can hear you now..."Well, that doesn't rhyme!"
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: Thomas The Rhymer, by Kinuko
Visionary Intelligence
I don't want to be the 'one that told you so', no matter which way it goes, and I don't want to be 'the one that said it', if it all goes south, of the way we hoped it would go. Concerning 'Trump', there are greater considerations, than our own...and people's hopes tend to be selfish.
Trump keeps 'pissing people off', but that's, as defined by 'main stream media'. He keeps 'impressing me', at the moment. He is a brash, not bashful, ballsy, catastrophe, for the entire 'new world order', but what have THEY done, to impress anyone, but themselves? What have the 'elite, one percenter's, done to enrich anyone...but themselves?
It never changes, or improves, or gets 'new'. It's the same old crap, it's been, since the pyramids were built. Enslave the people. Lash them, until they build your monuments...then find a way, to get rid of them, and get some more...prettier!
Life gets better and better, at the top. There's really only room, for 'a few', at the top...if you study 'the pyramid', maybe a 'putting green', the size of an island...Hawaii? But really, not much more! You understand? Well, even if you don't...no matter. 'Nationalism', is a scary word. It invokes racial, cultural, repressions, to anger and patriotism, and populism, and hope, on 'testosterone'.
Everyone wants back what they lost, and they lost 'a lot, in the last decade or two. They lost their pride, their god, their gender, their certain surity, of whose the 'man in the family'. They even lost, the way mama showed them, to do algebra. Everything went 'tits up', and it ain't fair, and 'by God', we're gonna take it back! See where it goes?
You made that happen, asshole's, with your gender busting bullshit, and your 'political correctness', and your 'common confusion core', and your 'pushing the envelope' on human genome, and abortion, and evolution, and, telling us, how to define our beliefs, or 'not to believe at all, or 'science in our face 24/7', telling us, it's vapor trails, not 'chemtrails', global cooling, not 'global warming', sex not love, porn, not romance. You made it happen, 'dickwad'.
If it turns to a monster...you made it happen!!! If it eats you, you deserve it! It's YOUR bastard child! OWN IT! Or, it might just turn out to be a 'good deal', with a master at the helm, like 'The Donald'! So, I say, let's see what he is? He walks like a duck. He talks like a 'locker room juvenile', but he reminds me of a person, with a heart, and I like heart, and soul and 'truth, direct from the mouth, without thinking 'how it looks', or sounds, first'. That's 'The Donald'.
Let's give him a chance! Don't turn him into 'Mr. Potatoe Head', to suit your sensitivities! Don't make him, THE MONSTER YOU ARE! He paid his dues. He was elected! Everyone else cheated, because you just didn't want to play fair, in 'the sandbox'! Embrace this. Work with him. Learn something, REALLY REALLY NEW!
Learn to get over yourself, and try to save the future, for life on this planet, because, as sure as 'you get your own way', we will all die, in a nuclear holocaust, because you're such a bunch of 'geniuses', you whiney little pricks! I could put 'the end', here, but I hope it's not. I believe Trump has a vision, and he may know the way, at least...a part of it.
I believe, 'GOD', may genuinely, be with him...and I believe in God! So, For my part, I will support our new President, and continue to hope he has visionary intelligence, that I am not privy too. I hope he does. He will need it, in the days, months and years ahead.
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: Ayahuasca plant, visionary shamanic art, google art
Trump keeps 'pissing people off', but that's, as defined by 'main stream media'. He keeps 'impressing me', at the moment. He is a brash, not bashful, ballsy, catastrophe, for the entire 'new world order', but what have THEY done, to impress anyone, but themselves? What have the 'elite, one percenter's, done to enrich anyone...but themselves?
It never changes, or improves, or gets 'new'. It's the same old crap, it's been, since the pyramids were built. Enslave the people. Lash them, until they build your monuments...then find a way, to get rid of them, and get some more...prettier!
Life gets better and better, at the top. There's really only room, for 'a few', at the top...if you study 'the pyramid', maybe a 'putting green', the size of an island...Hawaii? But really, not much more! You understand? Well, even if you don't...no matter. 'Nationalism', is a scary word. It invokes racial, cultural, repressions, to anger and patriotism, and populism, and hope, on 'testosterone'.
Everyone wants back what they lost, and they lost 'a lot, in the last decade or two. They lost their pride, their god, their gender, their certain surity, of whose the 'man in the family'. They even lost, the way mama showed them, to do algebra. Everything went 'tits up', and it ain't fair, and 'by God', we're gonna take it back! See where it goes?
You made that happen, asshole's, with your gender busting bullshit, and your 'political correctness', and your 'common confusion core', and your 'pushing the envelope' on human genome, and abortion, and evolution, and, telling us, how to define our beliefs, or 'not to believe at all, or 'science in our face 24/7', telling us, it's vapor trails, not 'chemtrails', global cooling, not 'global warming', sex not love, porn, not romance. You made it happen, 'dickwad'.
If it turns to a monster...you made it happen!!! If it eats you, you deserve it! It's YOUR bastard child! OWN IT! Or, it might just turn out to be a 'good deal', with a master at the helm, like 'The Donald'! So, I say, let's see what he is? He walks like a duck. He talks like a 'locker room juvenile', but he reminds me of a person, with a heart, and I like heart, and soul and 'truth, direct from the mouth, without thinking 'how it looks', or sounds, first'. That's 'The Donald'.
Let's give him a chance! Don't turn him into 'Mr. Potatoe Head', to suit your sensitivities! Don't make him, THE MONSTER YOU ARE! He paid his dues. He was elected! Everyone else cheated, because you just didn't want to play fair, in 'the sandbox'! Embrace this. Work with him. Learn something, REALLY REALLY NEW!
Learn to get over yourself, and try to save the future, for life on this planet, because, as sure as 'you get your own way', we will all die, in a nuclear holocaust, because you're such a bunch of 'geniuses', you whiney little pricks! I could put 'the end', here, but I hope it's not. I believe Trump has a vision, and he may know the way, at least...a part of it.
I believe, 'GOD', may genuinely, be with him...and I believe in God! So, For my part, I will support our new President, and continue to hope he has visionary intelligence, that I am not privy too. I hope he does. He will need it, in the days, months and years ahead.
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: Ayahuasca plant, visionary shamanic art, google art
Sunday, January 15, 2017
Relics Of Flight
A woman is 'half a sandwich'. Until she is one, with that, that makes her complete, she is not. Whether you believe or nay...woman was made 'incomplete'. That vulnerability, is her grace.
We are none of us god, or goddess, in and of ourselves. Without the 'other', we are but half. Of Adam's rib, came woman...because, 'Adam alone', was sad. We are like a bird with one wing. We cannot fly, until we find the other. Nor, can we fly...'until 'we admit the other'.
We cannot stand, unto ourselves, alone, and claim that we are whole. Governments, proclaiming themselves whole, while rejecting one half, are neither complete, and will 'beat around', until both wings are broken, in the effort to fly, for the 'lift', will not allow their weight.
It is 'balance', of which, we all are 'halves', having not 'the way', within ourselves...alone. We are not, an autonomous machine, beautiful, and elegant, and cold, created to be worshiped for our 'self'. We are more, than self, you see.
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: love birds, google pic
We are none of us god, or goddess, in and of ourselves. Without the 'other', we are but half. Of Adam's rib, came woman...because, 'Adam alone', was sad. We are like a bird with one wing. We cannot fly, until we find the other. Nor, can we fly...'until 'we admit the other'.
We cannot stand, unto ourselves, alone, and claim that we are whole. Governments, proclaiming themselves whole, while rejecting one half, are neither complete, and will 'beat around', until both wings are broken, in the effort to fly, for the 'lift', will not allow their weight.
It is 'balance', of which, we all are 'halves', having not 'the way', within ourselves...alone. We are not, an autonomous machine, beautiful, and elegant, and cold, created to be worshiped for our 'self'. We are more, than self, you see.
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: love birds, google pic
Image Of Anonymous
Oh, loathe and vicious, hath ye naught to share, 'that only bright', that doth stand tall, who give us hope, ye would...thou rabble, rather 'rip apart', as, hath thou done unto a nation here? Thine only light, of liberty and fair, for 'speaking true'...that it, politic'ly offendeth you?
Thou swine! That it hath come to this, this all undone, derangement of the youth, for single sake of 'selfishness'? What cheer, are we to cheer, nay, cheerlessness...unto the ages, claiming you were there, your finger on the trigger of 'the gun'?
Your epitaph! Ye venal scum...dissemble, mask, pretend, nay one of ye've a name, nor ever will! So share, among the liar's, your intend, then disappear...as thou hath always done, among the 'coward crowds' of venom!
I know thee, who thou art...hidden in 'the many', faceless, shameful vengeance, calling thyself...'unnamed source'. That secretive intelligence, that 'never' shows its horns, has done more harm, unto the world...than ever helped or healed a thing!
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: anonymous, google pic
Thou swine! That it hath come to this, this all undone, derangement of the youth, for single sake of 'selfishness'? What cheer, are we to cheer, nay, cheerlessness...unto the ages, claiming you were there, your finger on the trigger of 'the gun'?
Your epitaph! Ye venal scum...dissemble, mask, pretend, nay one of ye've a name, nor ever will! So share, among the liar's, your intend, then disappear...as thou hath always done, among the 'coward crowds' of venom!
I know thee, who thou art...hidden in 'the many', faceless, shameful vengeance, calling thyself...'unnamed source'. That secretive intelligence, that 'never' shows its horns, has done more harm, unto the world...than ever helped or healed a thing!
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: anonymous, google pic
Thursday, January 12, 2017
That Post Menopausal Buzz!
I watch the 'chemtrail' planes fly over our little parcel of desert scrub and sagebrush, and I wonder very much, because 'wonderment', is all we really got, for an answer to anything. They fly day and night, but more, in the day...to my view, and they fly both directions, and at various levels, all at the same time.
Most days, I can count five 'high flyers', big white jobs, way up there. Maybe six, at a time...any time I go outside, and you gotta realize, that's just 'here', over our parcel. They fly around the globe, just like this. Why, it would take thousands of jets...perhaps hundreds of thousands...to cover it all. What are they doing? They never say what, and they never admit, but always deny, they are 'chemtrail planes'.
I don't even know, if we are on a major passenger airplane route. Most of them travel, east to west and west to east. Some of them make big wide turns up there, and some of them, get all crazy, with circles and exe's, and 'crossings', of all sorts. They lay out a vapor trail. It turns to a bunch of Hollywood 'faux' clouds, right before our eyes.
Sometimes, we can smell it...a sort of chemical smell, in the mornings, and we catch allergies, every time we step outside. I'm not diagnosed with allergies. But we catch allergies, anyway. Now, I have a theory...what they are spraying for, and it's not 'little green aliens'. Charles Hapgood, put forth a theory of Earth Crustal Displacement, back in the 1950's.
I'm sure, many people laughed at him, and even many scientist's, who had their precious, tenures to protect. But, he might have been right! The governments, of the world, might have begun to take notice, some time ago...of 'Earth Changes', he described, of increased 'destabilization' of Earth's mantle, announced by increasing earthquakes, volcanoes on land, and under the sea.
Perhaps,dying or dead pods, or groups of birds, fish, and various animals in their thousands, or even hundreds of thousands, the dying off of Earths fauna and flora...her forests, catching fire, more and more frequently. Methane gasses, belching from the earth, 'sinkholes', of ever greater proportion, and the government and science, environmentalists, climatologist's discuss these changes.
Where the dollar 'get's pinched', in the crack of truth, these facts are denied, or pushed beneath the rug, for some other administration to deal with, farther on down the line. But, the facts of the matter, aren't giving us time, to grumble, digress, deny...any more. Now, it's in our face. It's so much, in our face, I think, we are in 'real trouble', a trouble, so great, and so world spanning, that 'the elephant' in the room, can no longer be ignored.
Certainly, for the sake of fabricated distraction, 'fake news', election coverage, what the 'whiney' little liberals think, or the 'gun toting', shoot from the mouth conservatives. Agenda's don't much matter, when snow drifts are blanketing southern beaches, Vatican water fountains are freezing, and tidal waves, could be bearing down on one's ass, at any moment. The Yellowstone caldera, is pinging like 'the Liberty Bell' did, before she cracked!
The Washington Monument, is 'whispering' strange nothings, in the darkness of the night. Animals are 'nervous', and milling, with no one to ask...and no one to tell them, 'what is the matter'? Something is happening! It's a damn shame, someone wont tell us the truth, but as in the movie, '2012'...the government has to 'protect the continuity of the feces'!
So they waited till the last minute, till the arks were boarded, California, had 'chipped off', into the Pacific, and 'the President's 'leggy' daughter, was in the air, with an 'earth scientist', to give the people a clue, and it amounted to 'put your head between your legs and kiss your ass goodbye!' "So sorry!" You can't even find the movie, 'The Day After Tomorrow'. Why is that? Too close to truth?
About global warming? Don't tell me, there's no 'global warming'. Phoenix, Arizona is getting hotter every year. I lived there. I know! It's one of 'those places' with a problem. Where do you move 2 million people, from the caldera of 'the valley of the sun'...when it's known, it is now beyond parameters, there, in the summertime, and if the grid goes down, there will be a catastrophic number of dead?
The grid will go down, sooner or later. That's just 'one' problem. We might be able to help ourselves, get out of the way of, if they would tell us, frankly...'it's all gone to shit', but they wont! The sun is doing strange things, with it's 'maximums', and 'minimums'. If it is heating the core, and mantle of the earth...'beyond parameters', for human habitation, is the chemtrail spray, about 'cooling' the earth and the seas, to stave off the inevitable catastrophe of environmental gasses and solar radiation?
Is that why they are dumping sand in the sky 24/7? I suspect, it might be. What will they do, with the lot of us? Well, how about a nice 'nuclear war'? How about a giant 'un-natural' catastrophe, when they blow a nuke, at the 'Canary Island' site, and create a tsunami 200 meters high, or light off a 'boomer' near an undersea volcano, in the Pacific?
They are crazy enough, to do these things. Their ego's, and 'psychotic breaks', know no bounds. They have 'done things', they must hide, and the only ones in the way of their criminality, are 'we the people'. I think people ought to 'stop, look and listen', to what's going down! Get ready! Get right! Get sober! Get the hell out of Dodge! 'Go camping', permanently!
They aren't going to tell us, outright. They only give us these stupid little 'esoteric' hints. Let me ask you this? What will you be doing, the day 'the earth shifts, and rolls over? Will you be screaming about 'politics', about 'fake news', about 'who won the pennant', or, 'who got the world cup'? Who cares? I wonder how many 'fruit barrels, it would take, to build a 'survival raft'!?
My wife is in 'denial'...you know. The kids look at me, and I don't know what they think. But, God helps those, that help themselves! So, I'm gonna try! I was a 'Cub Scout', see? You can't take it with you. Whatever is in your pockets, on your belt loops, 'that day'...that's it! Plan wisely. God help you! Amen!.
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: Museo Atlantico, by Jason DeCaires Taylor
Most days, I can count five 'high flyers', big white jobs, way up there. Maybe six, at a time...any time I go outside, and you gotta realize, that's just 'here', over our parcel. They fly around the globe, just like this. Why, it would take thousands of jets...perhaps hundreds of thousands...to cover it all. What are they doing? They never say what, and they never admit, but always deny, they are 'chemtrail planes'.
I don't even know, if we are on a major passenger airplane route. Most of them travel, east to west and west to east. Some of them make big wide turns up there, and some of them, get all crazy, with circles and exe's, and 'crossings', of all sorts. They lay out a vapor trail. It turns to a bunch of Hollywood 'faux' clouds, right before our eyes.
Sometimes, we can smell it...a sort of chemical smell, in the mornings, and we catch allergies, every time we step outside. I'm not diagnosed with allergies. But we catch allergies, anyway. Now, I have a theory...what they are spraying for, and it's not 'little green aliens'. Charles Hapgood, put forth a theory of Earth Crustal Displacement, back in the 1950's.
I'm sure, many people laughed at him, and even many scientist's, who had their precious, tenures to protect. But, he might have been right! The governments, of the world, might have begun to take notice, some time ago...of 'Earth Changes', he described, of increased 'destabilization' of Earth's mantle, announced by increasing earthquakes, volcanoes on land, and under the sea.
Perhaps,dying or dead pods, or groups of birds, fish, and various animals in their thousands, or even hundreds of thousands, the dying off of Earths fauna and flora...her forests, catching fire, more and more frequently. Methane gasses, belching from the earth, 'sinkholes', of ever greater proportion, and the government and science, environmentalists, climatologist's discuss these changes.
Where the dollar 'get's pinched', in the crack of truth, these facts are denied, or pushed beneath the rug, for some other administration to deal with, farther on down the line. But, the facts of the matter, aren't giving us time, to grumble, digress, deny...any more. Now, it's in our face. It's so much, in our face, I think, we are in 'real trouble', a trouble, so great, and so world spanning, that 'the elephant' in the room, can no longer be ignored.
Certainly, for the sake of fabricated distraction, 'fake news', election coverage, what the 'whiney' little liberals think, or the 'gun toting', shoot from the mouth conservatives. Agenda's don't much matter, when snow drifts are blanketing southern beaches, Vatican water fountains are freezing, and tidal waves, could be bearing down on one's ass, at any moment. The Yellowstone caldera, is pinging like 'the Liberty Bell' did, before she cracked!
The Washington Monument, is 'whispering' strange nothings, in the darkness of the night. Animals are 'nervous', and milling, with no one to ask...and no one to tell them, 'what is the matter'? Something is happening! It's a damn shame, someone wont tell us the truth, but as in the movie, '2012'...the government has to 'protect the continuity of the feces'!
So they waited till the last minute, till the arks were boarded, California, had 'chipped off', into the Pacific, and 'the President's 'leggy' daughter, was in the air, with an 'earth scientist', to give the people a clue, and it amounted to 'put your head between your legs and kiss your ass goodbye!' "So sorry!" You can't even find the movie, 'The Day After Tomorrow'. Why is that? Too close to truth?
About global warming? Don't tell me, there's no 'global warming'. Phoenix, Arizona is getting hotter every year. I lived there. I know! It's one of 'those places' with a problem. Where do you move 2 million people, from the caldera of 'the valley of the sun'...when it's known, it is now beyond parameters, there, in the summertime, and if the grid goes down, there will be a catastrophic number of dead?
The grid will go down, sooner or later. That's just 'one' problem. We might be able to help ourselves, get out of the way of, if they would tell us, frankly...'it's all gone to shit', but they wont! The sun is doing strange things, with it's 'maximums', and 'minimums'. If it is heating the core, and mantle of the earth...'beyond parameters', for human habitation, is the chemtrail spray, about 'cooling' the earth and the seas, to stave off the inevitable catastrophe of environmental gasses and solar radiation?
Is that why they are dumping sand in the sky 24/7? I suspect, it might be. What will they do, with the lot of us? Well, how about a nice 'nuclear war'? How about a giant 'un-natural' catastrophe, when they blow a nuke, at the 'Canary Island' site, and create a tsunami 200 meters high, or light off a 'boomer' near an undersea volcano, in the Pacific?
They are crazy enough, to do these things. Their ego's, and 'psychotic breaks', know no bounds. They have 'done things', they must hide, and the only ones in the way of their criminality, are 'we the people'. I think people ought to 'stop, look and listen', to what's going down! Get ready! Get right! Get sober! Get the hell out of Dodge! 'Go camping', permanently!
They aren't going to tell us, outright. They only give us these stupid little 'esoteric' hints. Let me ask you this? What will you be doing, the day 'the earth shifts, and rolls over? Will you be screaming about 'politics', about 'fake news', about 'who won the pennant', or, 'who got the world cup'? Who cares? I wonder how many 'fruit barrels, it would take, to build a 'survival raft'!?
My wife is in 'denial'...you know. The kids look at me, and I don't know what they think. But, God helps those, that help themselves! So, I'm gonna try! I was a 'Cub Scout', see? You can't take it with you. Whatever is in your pockets, on your belt loops, 'that day'...that's it! Plan wisely. God help you! Amen!.
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: Museo Atlantico, by Jason DeCaires Taylor
Tuesday, January 10, 2017
The 'Tits Up' of Things
News headlines, like this: "With only days left, until the election, President Elect Trump, faces 'grave' threats!" You know, I'm having a hard time believing this garbage, from any side. They spew it out the right, and the left, like a drug runner, with his windows down...just flinging the shit, everywhere, anywhere!
Trump is a smart man. He analyzes, sifts, councils, receives briefs, from Intelligence, Commerce, Treasury, Foreign Relations, State Department, DHS, NSA, CIA, Girl Scouts. He's at the hub. He has watcher's, watching watcher's...Secret Service, limousine service, room service. I doubt, they let a grape get by, that isn't fresh and plump and sweet, and dripping with 'dew'.
Would a man, with all of that, having calculated, down to the least iota, put his life in jeopardy? Would he set himself up, to be a 'sacrifice', a martyr? I don't think so. Once again, 'sleight of hand', 'staged magic', 'false flags', from false hearted people...and 'press-tidigitation' fully flogged, right in our faces.
We, the people, may not be buying it anymore, but who are they playing too? It may not be, and is, likely not, 'we the people'. Haven't you noticed, over, oh...the last four or five decades, or so...they don't give a hoot, what we think? They go right ahead and play it out, above us...beyond us. It seems to me, kind of like...guys think, women dress for them? Wahahaha! Then, we all find out, 'women dress for women! WTF! That was a psyche game changer, wasn't it!
It isn't ALWAYS about us, and that may be 'the case', this time. Look! it was rumored, 'The Nazi's' were in cahoots with some 'aliens', and that's how they got so far ahead, so fast, with wartime technology. Hell! The only way we beat those fascist pricks, was by 'becoming best buds' with them, shipping them over here, setting them up on 'dairy farms', and 'rocket launching' pads, with their own towns.
Strange names like Odessa, White Sands, Alamagordo, probably Roswell...and little burgs, around the US of A with quaint German names...made them part of the 'mainstream', 'News', Newspaper's' 'television', 'the movie industry', subsidiary parts and pieces of EVERYTHING, from chocolate to weenies, to rocket boosters, and all of the wiring in between.
It was called 'Project Paperclip', at the end of the second world war. Oh, yeah...CIA, is heavily indentured, and indebted to 'Paperclip', and the paperclip boys. Check it out. Google, while google is still available. Then, here's 'the other side of the coin', or 'the moon'...maybe. You know, how the mainstream, keeps beating 'alternative news' up? They just beat them to hell, and claim...the 'alternative news' links have a bunch of Russian connections, are maybe, a bunch of 'commie spy's', or sympathizers?
Would it be 'such a reach' to suppose, 'it takes one to know one'? All I know is, it doesn't matter, whose news and views, you check out and rely on...you find, sooner or later...they are all 'crooked as a dogs hind leg'. They twist it. They spin it. They fabricate it...to suit their ends, on BOTH sides! If you buy their 'bullshit' whole cloth, you will be dismally let down, and entirely re-educated, with a propaganda brush, or a 'whitewash' brush.
If you 'have no mind', of your own, no 'personality' per se, they will embrace you, endorse you, and engorge you...with their own, one sided, brand of 'how to think', about everything. If you DO have a mind, and you are somewhat 'autonomous', you will be placed, at the top of their 'shit list'...later, hit list, if you become vocal, or attractive to others, and one day or other...they will 'pop' you!
The Nazi's weren't the only ones, in league with aliens. What about 'the other side', The Communists'. They are no babes in the woods either, and they make the fascists, look like 'sissy boys'. You don't get to kill as many people, as both these sides did...in endless wars, still to this day, unless you are in league...with 'something', human's wouldn't want to touch...with a stick...'something inhuman'!
Humans are so strange! They want to be something, they're not, without even knowing 'what they are. They want to be God! They want to be angels! But they don't even know what 'a human is'! A human, is what draws 'these aliens', to this world. They are fighting a war around us, a war, for 'our minds', 'our souls', 'our innocence'! We are 'third generation' beings. God was the prototype, then came the angels, but God remained lonely...so, he created, an 'improvement', on angels, and some say, 'they are pissed, over that'!
I guess, it depends on who you ask. These 'aliens', are said to be angelic factions, and at war over 'us'. I don't think they are supposed to be here, mating with our women, 'hybridizing' our children, killing our young men and women...in their stupid wars! This is NOT their world. It isn't ours either. We were kicked out of ours. It was called Eden. That should make you cry, but it probably doesn't...because, you avoid 'that little nut', of reality, and bury it...away from pain!
I just, whole heartedly, wish...these pricks, on all sides, would 'buzz off', back to the stones, they came out from under, and leave us humans...to sort ourselves! I wish it, in the name of Jesus Christ, Merlin, Arthur, Buddha, and all the sort, who cared about us, and our world! God, forgive us, our trespasses, and return our home to us.
If we don't have a home, to be returned too...it's because, we didn't take good care, of the home we had, and I don't know if that can be forgiven, because...look at us here, destroying 'another one'! I hear another great 'Redwood' fell, in a California forest, during a windstorm, 'because SOME ASSHOLE carved a hole through the base, to drive a car through!
I don't know why Trump chose to be President? Neither do you. Maybe it's ego, but I doubt it. Could be power. I doubt that too. Maybe it's 'altruism'. Maybe God put him up to it. Maybe he just decided 'to follow his numbers', his path...because, there's no where else to go. I wish him well. I wish our nation, and our world well. I hope against war.
Let us all be kind, and cordial...to one another. Let us see, if we can be better, than these 'aliens', who have brought their bloody rude war down here.
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: Wawona redwood tree, google pic
Trump is a smart man. He analyzes, sifts, councils, receives briefs, from Intelligence, Commerce, Treasury, Foreign Relations, State Department, DHS, NSA, CIA, Girl Scouts. He's at the hub. He has watcher's, watching watcher's...Secret Service, limousine service, room service. I doubt, they let a grape get by, that isn't fresh and plump and sweet, and dripping with 'dew'.
Would a man, with all of that, having calculated, down to the least iota, put his life in jeopardy? Would he set himself up, to be a 'sacrifice', a martyr? I don't think so. Once again, 'sleight of hand', 'staged magic', 'false flags', from false hearted people...and 'press-tidigitation' fully flogged, right in our faces.
We, the people, may not be buying it anymore, but who are they playing too? It may not be, and is, likely not, 'we the people'. Haven't you noticed, over, oh...the last four or five decades, or so...they don't give a hoot, what we think? They go right ahead and play it out, above us...beyond us. It seems to me, kind of like...guys think, women dress for them? Wahahaha! Then, we all find out, 'women dress for women! WTF! That was a psyche game changer, wasn't it!
It isn't ALWAYS about us, and that may be 'the case', this time. Look! it was rumored, 'The Nazi's' were in cahoots with some 'aliens', and that's how they got so far ahead, so fast, with wartime technology. Hell! The only way we beat those fascist pricks, was by 'becoming best buds' with them, shipping them over here, setting them up on 'dairy farms', and 'rocket launching' pads, with their own towns.
Strange names like Odessa, White Sands, Alamagordo, probably Roswell...and little burgs, around the US of A with quaint German names...made them part of the 'mainstream', 'News', Newspaper's' 'television', 'the movie industry', subsidiary parts and pieces of EVERYTHING, from chocolate to weenies, to rocket boosters, and all of the wiring in between.
It was called 'Project Paperclip', at the end of the second world war. Oh, yeah...CIA, is heavily indentured, and indebted to 'Paperclip', and the paperclip boys. Check it out. Google, while google is still available. Then, here's 'the other side of the coin', or 'the moon'...maybe. You know, how the mainstream, keeps beating 'alternative news' up? They just beat them to hell, and claim...the 'alternative news' links have a bunch of Russian connections, are maybe, a bunch of 'commie spy's', or sympathizers?
Would it be 'such a reach' to suppose, 'it takes one to know one'? All I know is, it doesn't matter, whose news and views, you check out and rely on...you find, sooner or later...they are all 'crooked as a dogs hind leg'. They twist it. They spin it. They fabricate it...to suit their ends, on BOTH sides! If you buy their 'bullshit' whole cloth, you will be dismally let down, and entirely re-educated, with a propaganda brush, or a 'whitewash' brush.
If you 'have no mind', of your own, no 'personality' per se, they will embrace you, endorse you, and engorge you...with their own, one sided, brand of 'how to think', about everything. If you DO have a mind, and you are somewhat 'autonomous', you will be placed, at the top of their 'shit list'...later, hit list, if you become vocal, or attractive to others, and one day or other...they will 'pop' you!
The Nazi's weren't the only ones, in league with aliens. What about 'the other side', The Communists'. They are no babes in the woods either, and they make the fascists, look like 'sissy boys'. You don't get to kill as many people, as both these sides did...in endless wars, still to this day, unless you are in league...with 'something', human's wouldn't want to touch...with a stick...'something inhuman'!
Humans are so strange! They want to be something, they're not, without even knowing 'what they are. They want to be God! They want to be angels! But they don't even know what 'a human is'! A human, is what draws 'these aliens', to this world. They are fighting a war around us, a war, for 'our minds', 'our souls', 'our innocence'! We are 'third generation' beings. God was the prototype, then came the angels, but God remained lonely...so, he created, an 'improvement', on angels, and some say, 'they are pissed, over that'!
I guess, it depends on who you ask. These 'aliens', are said to be angelic factions, and at war over 'us'. I don't think they are supposed to be here, mating with our women, 'hybridizing' our children, killing our young men and women...in their stupid wars! This is NOT their world. It isn't ours either. We were kicked out of ours. It was called Eden. That should make you cry, but it probably doesn't...because, you avoid 'that little nut', of reality, and bury it...away from pain!
I just, whole heartedly, wish...these pricks, on all sides, would 'buzz off', back to the stones, they came out from under, and leave us humans...to sort ourselves! I wish it, in the name of Jesus Christ, Merlin, Arthur, Buddha, and all the sort, who cared about us, and our world! God, forgive us, our trespasses, and return our home to us.
If we don't have a home, to be returned too...it's because, we didn't take good care, of the home we had, and I don't know if that can be forgiven, because...look at us here, destroying 'another one'! I hear another great 'Redwood' fell, in a California forest, during a windstorm, 'because SOME ASSHOLE carved a hole through the base, to drive a car through!
I don't know why Trump chose to be President? Neither do you. Maybe it's ego, but I doubt it. Could be power. I doubt that too. Maybe it's 'altruism'. Maybe God put him up to it. Maybe he just decided 'to follow his numbers', his path...because, there's no where else to go. I wish him well. I wish our nation, and our world well. I hope against war.
Let us all be kind, and cordial...to one another. Let us see, if we can be better, than these 'aliens', who have brought their bloody rude war down here.
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: Wawona redwood tree, google pic
Sunday, January 8, 2017
There Are No Aliens
I suspect this, of the human situation. We are told to obey law, authority...to submit to higher powers, to allow their benevolent control over us. We are told to 'be good', or suffer 'Hell'. In every respect, at every level...'authority' presents itself. It is not bashful, in declaring itself supreme.
I suspect, 'we are in hell', and the chief evidence of it, is, 'the alarm clock'. Earth is a 'prison planet'. C.S. Lewis, the author, in his trilogy of books, beginning with 'Out of The Silent Planet', declared that 'even prayer', could not prevail to reach God, from out of the silent planet. Nothing escapes this earth. It is carefully kept that way, by our prison guards, our 'overlords'.
I suppose, we are here...as any prisoner is, to serve our time, for varying degrees of criminality. We are, likely, here for sundry reasons, and perhaps, the guilt of innocence, itself, in some cases. But, there are 'real villains' here. All of us, are put into this prison population, to make our way, to serve our time.
They tell us, "Don't look out there, among the stars, to find a savior, to seek answers, to your incarceration. There is no such thing as 'release', from term...or 'disclosure'. There are no aliens." And yet, the Pope, himself...is anxious, at the eyepiece of the Vatican's own celestial investigation.
"There are no aliens", begins to morph, to shift into...a greater fear, as we are told, "Beware, they are demons, sent from hell...to lead you astray!" I ask you...how much farther, could we go astray...as frail humanity? I feel, we've been there. All science, now consorts, at heavens edge, to lay a plank of evil pranks...at Earth's own door, to 'those coming'.
Who ever they are, who are they...really, that they instill such threat, to the 'slave master's', here? They are ready, or if not...certainly 'wiring' everything up, to engage the incoming 'non-entity'. So, what's it all about? Methinks, our guardian's are crapping their pants...for the time is near. I see them 'sweating bullets!'
I'll take my chance, with what's out there, for I know, who the real villains...are! We are here, with every fear we have...and every fear, we fear, comes true, and that's the only magic working...like a goad, a club, a sword...an albatross, about our neck, and they are here, to tell us 'what to think'...or die! Watch them well, 'these ones over us'. Their deeds, explain it all.
When 'the ones' come, they deny,...will they tell us, 'they', out there, are the enemy? I suspect, they will, when the very reverse, may be true. Watch carefully. Believe in your heart and soul, that, 'that good dream', so sweet and fair...at last, come real...may sail from heaven's deep, to save us all. Be ready!
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: false imprisonment, legalbeagle.com
I suspect, 'we are in hell', and the chief evidence of it, is, 'the alarm clock'. Earth is a 'prison planet'. C.S. Lewis, the author, in his trilogy of books, beginning with 'Out of The Silent Planet', declared that 'even prayer', could not prevail to reach God, from out of the silent planet. Nothing escapes this earth. It is carefully kept that way, by our prison guards, our 'overlords'.
I suppose, we are here...as any prisoner is, to serve our time, for varying degrees of criminality. We are, likely, here for sundry reasons, and perhaps, the guilt of innocence, itself, in some cases. But, there are 'real villains' here. All of us, are put into this prison population, to make our way, to serve our time.
They tell us, "Don't look out there, among the stars, to find a savior, to seek answers, to your incarceration. There is no such thing as 'release', from term...or 'disclosure'. There are no aliens." And yet, the Pope, himself...is anxious, at the eyepiece of the Vatican's own celestial investigation.
"There are no aliens", begins to morph, to shift into...a greater fear, as we are told, "Beware, they are demons, sent from hell...to lead you astray!" I ask you...how much farther, could we go astray...as frail humanity? I feel, we've been there. All science, now consorts, at heavens edge, to lay a plank of evil pranks...at Earth's own door, to 'those coming'.
Who ever they are, who are they...really, that they instill such threat, to the 'slave master's', here? They are ready, or if not...certainly 'wiring' everything up, to engage the incoming 'non-entity'. So, what's it all about? Methinks, our guardian's are crapping their pants...for the time is near. I see them 'sweating bullets!'
I'll take my chance, with what's out there, for I know, who the real villains...are! We are here, with every fear we have...and every fear, we fear, comes true, and that's the only magic working...like a goad, a club, a sword...an albatross, about our neck, and they are here, to tell us 'what to think'...or die! Watch them well, 'these ones over us'. Their deeds, explain it all.
When 'the ones' come, they deny,...will they tell us, 'they', out there, are the enemy? I suspect, they will, when the very reverse, may be true. Watch carefully. Believe in your heart and soul, that, 'that good dream', so sweet and fair...at last, come real...may sail from heaven's deep, to save us all. Be ready!
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: false imprisonment, legalbeagle.com
Saturday, January 7, 2017
Cholla Sticker's And Smiles
Got the gate fixed, today. Part of the fixing, involved laying in 'paving stones', beneath the gate, and concrete 'half blocks', that's what I call them, around the paver's, to hold them from shifting. So, it's not a 'black Aswan granite coffin' job, with perfect cut edges, to a micron...but it's my gate, out here in the middle of nowhere...and while the wind chapped my ass, and the weather, about froze my 'crystal balls', I got another project done.
Yesterday, it was 'the little shed', and a dozen 80 pound bags of Quickcrete and lime. Damn stuffs heavy...but got it moved. Now, I got 'floor space, for my sacred tools, and the little wood stove. Day before that, it was a 'jack and transducer' installation...for my Gretsch 'Jim Dandy'...and new shelves for the kitchen and living room. All these projects, have been 'waiting' for me to pull the plug, out my butt, and do them. I got tired, a year ago...when we moved here.
Guess I'm getting the 'second wind', as they say. One thing after another. Sorting this all out. It's a hazard, and writing takes a bit of time, and like anything I do a lot, it gets better. After a few false starts, and 'cash flow', plumbing problems...it went organic, and like a guy, smokes a lot of pot...I just focus on 'the doing', in one spot, then the next, and the next. I look back, and go, Damn! Looks pretty nice!
I don't worry about 'perfect' anymore. It ain't never gonna happen. By the way, did I say...I don't smoke pot? I would, but it don't come my way, kinda like money, friendships, and romance. That's ok. I get along on starlight, and coffee...sitting on the old front porch, gazing out toward 'Tres Hermanas', the three beautiful sisters. Occasionally, I crack a beer, listen to the melodies I play...on me old guitar. I talk with God, a friend I may be sure of...or something 'ticks me off', to a few new lines to post...on google plus.
The dogs want bologna, or liver patee, or just a 'pee' and a romp with me, among the cholla sticker's, and scrub brush. I smile at the 'cowboy' in my soul...send a buddy, far away a few laughs, to cheer up his day...as my avatar, ''Pistolero'! I light the fire pit off, burn a few dry twigs for him and me, cock back in a lawn chair...ain't no lawn here, plant my boots in the sand,,,and wonder, where my horse is? Another day of getting by, out here in the wild southwest...smiles!
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: desert moon, nancy baron photography
Yesterday, it was 'the little shed', and a dozen 80 pound bags of Quickcrete and lime. Damn stuffs heavy...but got it moved. Now, I got 'floor space, for my sacred tools, and the little wood stove. Day before that, it was a 'jack and transducer' installation...for my Gretsch 'Jim Dandy'...and new shelves for the kitchen and living room. All these projects, have been 'waiting' for me to pull the plug, out my butt, and do them. I got tired, a year ago...when we moved here.
Guess I'm getting the 'second wind', as they say. One thing after another. Sorting this all out. It's a hazard, and writing takes a bit of time, and like anything I do a lot, it gets better. After a few false starts, and 'cash flow', plumbing problems...it went organic, and like a guy, smokes a lot of pot...I just focus on 'the doing', in one spot, then the next, and the next. I look back, and go, Damn! Looks pretty nice!
I don't worry about 'perfect' anymore. It ain't never gonna happen. By the way, did I say...I don't smoke pot? I would, but it don't come my way, kinda like money, friendships, and romance. That's ok. I get along on starlight, and coffee...sitting on the old front porch, gazing out toward 'Tres Hermanas', the three beautiful sisters. Occasionally, I crack a beer, listen to the melodies I play...on me old guitar. I talk with God, a friend I may be sure of...or something 'ticks me off', to a few new lines to post...on google plus.
The dogs want bologna, or liver patee, or just a 'pee' and a romp with me, among the cholla sticker's, and scrub brush. I smile at the 'cowboy' in my soul...send a buddy, far away a few laughs, to cheer up his day...as my avatar, ''Pistolero'! I light the fire pit off, burn a few dry twigs for him and me, cock back in a lawn chair...ain't no lawn here, plant my boots in the sand,,,and wonder, where my horse is? Another day of getting by, out here in the wild southwest...smiles!
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: desert moon, nancy baron photography
Taste Of This Potage!
I've got a strange feeling, like, it wasn't as bad, as I thought it was. No! It was much worse! It is beyond belief, beyond balance, the unhingement, of the world, as she descends...to her death. The waves toss, frantic chaos, above nukes popping off, plates coming loose...the 'ring of fire', frying, like a man hole cover, above a sewer...about to 'blow', sky high!
You were there! I was here, got the tee shirt, and a ticket stub! The coasts are toast! The birds are in the air! Hope you got a flotation device, an 'old log'...I'll be shatting mine, for sure! The 'false christ' is here, and he is busy busy 'business' as a bee!
The 'News', can hardly keep up lying. It's a beast, the daily grind, of 'making up' what is! 'To be', is not the question. 'Or not', is not either. 'To be', is what we are...screwed to the bone, by events we could not imagine, nor had foreseen, for enormity.
A tempest, in a pee pot...is what it truly is, and it wont be 'cream' rising to the top, but turds, swimming for their lives, in a soup of 'editing', and mongering of wars, and deaths, and sacrifice...of all but theirs, but they shall have a taste, first...of this 'potage', they made for us!
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: thecoastalpassage.com, wild waves
You were there! I was here, got the tee shirt, and a ticket stub! The coasts are toast! The birds are in the air! Hope you got a flotation device, an 'old log'...I'll be shatting mine, for sure! The 'false christ' is here, and he is busy busy 'business' as a bee!
The 'News', can hardly keep up lying. It's a beast, the daily grind, of 'making up' what is! 'To be', is not the question. 'Or not', is not either. 'To be', is what we are...screwed to the bone, by events we could not imagine, nor had foreseen, for enormity.
A tempest, in a pee pot...is what it truly is, and it wont be 'cream' rising to the top, but turds, swimming for their lives, in a soup of 'editing', and mongering of wars, and deaths, and sacrifice...of all but theirs, but they shall have a taste, first...of this 'potage', they made for us!
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: thecoastalpassage.com, wild waves
There's More
But wait! There's more!
Mary Anne Macleod Trump, is Donald Trump's mother, born on the Isle of Lewis, Scotland.
Source: dailymail.co.uk.
Mary Anne Macleod Trump, is Donald Trump's mother, born on the Isle of Lewis, Scotland.
Source: dailymail.co.uk.
What's In A Name?
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! Right when you thought, you knew it all!
Fred Trump: Frederick Christ "Fred" Trump, real estate developer and philanthropist, and father of Donald Trump. Wikipedia
Friday, January 6, 2017
I Don't Kiss Rings
So, Trumps mother, is Mary. His father is Christ...but I don't believe he's Jesus. I don't believe Jesus will come from a house of gold. I don't know, who Trump thinks he is, but I am certain, there are a body of disciple's, who will swear...he has walked on water.
He's good at his act, and he may even 'fool', the elect...but he hasn't fooled me, not yet, and not by a damn site! I believe in some things. I believe in Jesus, but that belief has been an 'iffy' and twisted road. It hasn't been easy, and it wasn't greased with pretty girls, and vaseline...and gobs of money.
I know, there are many, prepared to receive Jesus, the Christ. I know, they would grab at anyone, with a convincing story...like a drowning victim to a savior, and they would ride him 'like a raft'. I will wait, and see. I am already, somewhat dismayed in this 'President Elect's' choices for cabinet posts, but on the other hand...Jesus chose 'imperfect' men, as his disciple's.
Wouldn't it be wonderful, if he were 'the real thing', and not just 'another', bad reality TV actor. I will wait, and see, but I would be satisfied 'to tears', for just a good honest, humble leader...of our poor torn nation. Maybe men are more drawn, to the notion of a 'close facsimile', of a real thing...than to a real thing itself.
I suppose some might say, "Man, don't wait too long, you may miss the raft'. I would rather miss a flotilla of rafts, than choose unwisely, that 'the Christ', has come....For the false messiah, will lead many astray, and to their destruction.
I hope for us all. I know the times to come, shortly, will test every one of us and what we are made of. I want to trust this man called 'Trump', and I know, many of you do. I guess it all boils down to cabbage and gas, and what's in you and in me, for truth and faith.
Right now, I smell a 'bad odor' coming out of Trump, but maybe, that will pass. It isn't anywhere near, like we were actually given a choice of who to vote for, or who to support. It was just a 'button down bitch', or a 'big mouth cowboy', that shoots from the hp, and swaggers, better than John Wayne.
Can't help but kinda like the guy!. But not to kiss his ring. No! Not yet!
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: Cardinal's receiving rings, from the Pope, google pic
He's good at his act, and he may even 'fool', the elect...but he hasn't fooled me, not yet, and not by a damn site! I believe in some things. I believe in Jesus, but that belief has been an 'iffy' and twisted road. It hasn't been easy, and it wasn't greased with pretty girls, and vaseline...and gobs of money.
I know, there are many, prepared to receive Jesus, the Christ. I know, they would grab at anyone, with a convincing story...like a drowning victim to a savior, and they would ride him 'like a raft'. I will wait, and see. I am already, somewhat dismayed in this 'President Elect's' choices for cabinet posts, but on the other hand...Jesus chose 'imperfect' men, as his disciple's.
Wouldn't it be wonderful, if he were 'the real thing', and not just 'another', bad reality TV actor. I will wait, and see, but I would be satisfied 'to tears', for just a good honest, humble leader...of our poor torn nation. Maybe men are more drawn, to the notion of a 'close facsimile', of a real thing...than to a real thing itself.
I suppose some might say, "Man, don't wait too long, you may miss the raft'. I would rather miss a flotilla of rafts, than choose unwisely, that 'the Christ', has come....For the false messiah, will lead many astray, and to their destruction.
I hope for us all. I know the times to come, shortly, will test every one of us and what we are made of. I want to trust this man called 'Trump', and I know, many of you do. I guess it all boils down to cabbage and gas, and what's in you and in me, for truth and faith.
Right now, I smell a 'bad odor' coming out of Trump, but maybe, that will pass. It isn't anywhere near, like we were actually given a choice of who to vote for, or who to support. It was just a 'button down bitch', or a 'big mouth cowboy', that shoots from the hp, and swaggers, better than John Wayne.
Can't help but kinda like the guy!. But not to kiss his ring. No! Not yet!
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: Cardinal's receiving rings, from the Pope, google pic
Tuesday, January 3, 2017
I Mean This...True
I know, that a lot of you, are feeling very 'iffy', as this new year begins. Many of you, are drinking more, drinking more tea...to 'read the leaves'. Just remember: a 'prediction', is a thing, some people do...for a living, especially during times of great doubt...a drought of faith, like now.
One man, I listened to, predicts, the 'Antichrist', will arise out of Iran. I know many men, who firmly, believe, the 'antichrist', is their ex wife. some believe, he's a she...named 'Hillary', and some, that he built 'Trump Tower'. Whenever you seek the truth of a thing, you will find a 'proof', of its verification.
It doesn't mean, the thing was untrue. It means, your faith, in its truth, brought it 'real' for you, because 'you believed'. Jesus said so. He had been around. He knew. So, what ever you believe, add a little humor to it, don't take it, or yourself...to seriously. Don't take it on yourself, and try not to shove it down someone else's throat.
It is your truth, certified by 'your verification'. Belief 'kills', too. So, try, if you will, to find a 'needful thing', like love for the world, helping the needy, reducing reliance on 'a lying media', and a proof, that you are 'believing', in the correct manner, for you can believe in anything.
Whatever, you believe, is closest to you, and you will begin to see your power of 'fore sight' become predictive, and you will realize, you were unsure, 'you are god', but today...'you are certain'. That means, now...you are 'the danger'.
Please...give 'certainty' a little room, to change its mind. It is a stubborn thing, a vain and hubric caution, of a thing...and can do great harm. Harm nothing! I speak from personal experience. Sometimes, we can bring a 'thing to life', but we cannot, always, 'bring it back to life'.
Love each other out there, this year. We are all, more alike than you know. We want to add 'our bit'. We want to be listened to, and to be believed, and to be respected. We are, none of us god...nor barely angel, but we are on that good road, that leads to heaven's shore.
Many things will happen this year. 'Guessing' is fun, but prediction holds pitfalls. Try to allow the days of our lives, to 'reveal themselves', for these are their days too. Try to imagine 'balance', the good with the bad, but not to be a harm by either. For 'anything', in excess...good or bad, can bring loss...to everything.
Allow the world, to unravel her gifts to you, and do nothing to her, in disgrace, as your gift...in return. Thus, she need cast nothing back, that we may all live of the bounty of our care, our deep consideration...of each other. A 'Happy New Year' to all.
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: psychic, balancehealth.com.hk
One man, I listened to, predicts, the 'Antichrist', will arise out of Iran. I know many men, who firmly, believe, the 'antichrist', is their ex wife. some believe, he's a she...named 'Hillary', and some, that he built 'Trump Tower'. Whenever you seek the truth of a thing, you will find a 'proof', of its verification.
It doesn't mean, the thing was untrue. It means, your faith, in its truth, brought it 'real' for you, because 'you believed'. Jesus said so. He had been around. He knew. So, what ever you believe, add a little humor to it, don't take it, or yourself...to seriously. Don't take it on yourself, and try not to shove it down someone else's throat.
It is your truth, certified by 'your verification'. Belief 'kills', too. So, try, if you will, to find a 'needful thing', like love for the world, helping the needy, reducing reliance on 'a lying media', and a proof, that you are 'believing', in the correct manner, for you can believe in anything.
Whatever, you believe, is closest to you, and you will begin to see your power of 'fore sight' become predictive, and you will realize, you were unsure, 'you are god', but today...'you are certain'. That means, now...you are 'the danger'.
Please...give 'certainty' a little room, to change its mind. It is a stubborn thing, a vain and hubric caution, of a thing...and can do great harm. Harm nothing! I speak from personal experience. Sometimes, we can bring a 'thing to life', but we cannot, always, 'bring it back to life'.
Love each other out there, this year. We are all, more alike than you know. We want to add 'our bit'. We want to be listened to, and to be believed, and to be respected. We are, none of us god...nor barely angel, but we are on that good road, that leads to heaven's shore.
Many things will happen this year. 'Guessing' is fun, but prediction holds pitfalls. Try to allow the days of our lives, to 'reveal themselves', for these are their days too. Try to imagine 'balance', the good with the bad, but not to be a harm by either. For 'anything', in excess...good or bad, can bring loss...to everything.
Allow the world, to unravel her gifts to you, and do nothing to her, in disgrace, as your gift...in return. Thus, she need cast nothing back, that we may all live of the bounty of our care, our deep consideration...of each other. A 'Happy New Year' to all.
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: psychic, balancehealth.com.hk
A Hotel Never Rests
All of the posts, and poetry, and jottings, and wondering's, of my texts are as safe, as if, written in braille, shoved beneath a rock, and hidden...deep in a cave, with the lights out, and the sound turned down to zero, on a world, no one cares to find...so, no one visits.
I alone, hold these keys, jangling them profoundly, a janitor, in some great 'amaze', mumbling's...unspeakable. Don't know why, I said a thing, really...just, to be my own good company, I guess. Even the owl, does not know where...only who, which she repeats...constantly.
We get along...she and I, like a 1947 wife, or a post war 50's, American auto. We are one. Where does a man go, when he goes in circles? He goes to the next round, above, or beneath himself, yet always, a part of himself, as certain as a 'pole star' searching. A man, is where he came from...and where he goes, always treading up or down...the incline to heaven.
When we talk, and we think we know, to our selves...then we listen. The other guy does too, but you see...he's us. We echo, in our own loss, crying out our own name, aloud, until it answers us. Well, I have made this journey many times, and weary of the stones...I recognize, the faces, that ignore, the travel of my life, the hours of my deaths, the footfalls of my passages, round and round and round this thing, this corridor.
There are doors, off the sides, temporary respites, we suppose, lifts, descents...every one, a great surprise. No one holler's out, ahead of time..."Duck!", but you may hear a 'little laugh', or a 'goose', at your behind, that urges you along. Just pick a door, anyone. Try your 'intuitive'. Be the empath, you truly are.
Where ever you land, You'll always hear the same thing. "It was your choice". But, right there, is the first lie. There never really was a choice, just a place to pull in...at the roadside, and some mother's joy, or trouble...you become.
These gates of Saint Peter, giant bloody thighs...the phallic endeavor...of an enterprise, to get off. Here we go again! "God! Oh, God! Fuck! That was good!" Your innocent new eyes, look round. "Where am I?", says the babe, in its pablum, vocabulary...a giant nipple in it's face, a smile...some gas, an adult mammal, offering inane advice...coo coo kachoo!
You vomit on its chest...It looks at you, but decides, not to kill you...'this time'. You see, you didn't 'get off', not by half. You got ON again, instead, right on top of the devils 'tilt a whirl', and aren't we having fun now. So my advice: "Quit fuck'n round!" "Quit op'ning doors, of any kind!" But, whose listening. Better luck next time!
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: Hotel, Vienna
I alone, hold these keys, jangling them profoundly, a janitor, in some great 'amaze', mumbling's...unspeakable. Don't know why, I said a thing, really...just, to be my own good company, I guess. Even the owl, does not know where...only who, which she repeats...constantly.
We get along...she and I, like a 1947 wife, or a post war 50's, American auto. We are one. Where does a man go, when he goes in circles? He goes to the next round, above, or beneath himself, yet always, a part of himself, as certain as a 'pole star' searching. A man, is where he came from...and where he goes, always treading up or down...the incline to heaven.
When we talk, and we think we know, to our selves...then we listen. The other guy does too, but you see...he's us. We echo, in our own loss, crying out our own name, aloud, until it answers us. Well, I have made this journey many times, and weary of the stones...I recognize, the faces, that ignore, the travel of my life, the hours of my deaths, the footfalls of my passages, round and round and round this thing, this corridor.
There are doors, off the sides, temporary respites, we suppose, lifts, descents...every one, a great surprise. No one holler's out, ahead of time..."Duck!", but you may hear a 'little laugh', or a 'goose', at your behind, that urges you along. Just pick a door, anyone. Try your 'intuitive'. Be the empath, you truly are.
Where ever you land, You'll always hear the same thing. "It was your choice". But, right there, is the first lie. There never really was a choice, just a place to pull in...at the roadside, and some mother's joy, or trouble...you become.
These gates of Saint Peter, giant bloody thighs...the phallic endeavor...of an enterprise, to get off. Here we go again! "God! Oh, God! Fuck! That was good!" Your innocent new eyes, look round. "Where am I?", says the babe, in its pablum, vocabulary...a giant nipple in it's face, a smile...some gas, an adult mammal, offering inane advice...coo coo kachoo!
You vomit on its chest...It looks at you, but decides, not to kill you...'this time'. You see, you didn't 'get off', not by half. You got ON again, instead, right on top of the devils 'tilt a whirl', and aren't we having fun now. So my advice: "Quit fuck'n round!" "Quit op'ning doors, of any kind!" But, whose listening. Better luck next time!
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: Hotel, Vienna
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