on that train

 

if i was a young man again
would i put myself on that train
that took me from you

when we were young and in love
i knew it was forever
during the war as a soldier
i waited for your letters
that didn’t come

you must have sent letters it seems
or at least you did in my dreams

when i returned, i married
we raised up a child
my daughter is grown and my loving wife
long since has died

and i think of you

 

drummer in my living room

 

©

 

there’s a drummer in my living room
playin’ music all day long
and a singer always steps right in
makes up words to a new song

before you know it, the house is rockin’
people dancing outside the door
then somebody hears a knockin’
it’s the police . they’re sayin’
you can’t play that music any more

we said hey, policman step right in
we’ve got nothin’ to hide
if you really want to come into my house
you’ve got to leave that gun outside

don’t you know that ol’ guy did it
left his gun outside the door
after he came in and danced awhile
he didn’t need that stupid ol’ gun
… any more

there’s a drummer in my living room
playin’ music all day long
a singer always steps right in
makes up words to a new song

before you know it the house is rockin’
people dancing outside the door
then somebody hears a knockin’
it’s the police again, he says
can i come in and dance some more?!

 

©

 

vivian

 

©

oh vivian, little trevor
you came in the hard way
blazing a trail before you
they named you for the storm
but your heart is full of sweetness
tantrums filled with passion
the love that comes out from you
will keep your folks warm

when the clouds gather over head
thunder rumbles in my ear
the two of you come to my mind
as the storm gathers near
then the sun peaks ’round the edge
of those clouds that did deliver you
i remember our happiness
when trevor made it to two

vivian
big brother trevor
i wish for you a good life
lazy summer sunshine
bluegrass in the rain

when those clouds come to greet you
you’ll answer with a smile
stand up and say i am the storm
then dance on down the lane

vivian, little trevor
oh, vivian, big brother trevor

oh, vivian

©

abel

©

 

 

mind goin’ a million miles an hour
stephanie, stephanie
it must be the battery
stephanie, it must be, y’know
it’s run by electricity

how’d you know that, son?
that a battery might make it run
that a battery holds ‘lectricity

did somebody explain?
or is it just your amazing brain
running rampant as it’s always done

but no
it’s the watch in the video tray
that you or teak put in to play
oh, abel

 

mind goin’ a million miles an hour
stephanie, stephanie
mario runs up the slide
stephanie, he’s got to go
up over the great divide

how’d you know that, son?
which direction mario needs to run
just exactly where he needs to hide

did you write it all down?
his escape route in monster town?
you had a mind like the rising sun

and now
my heart is breaking to see you go
where the sky meets the fallen snow
abel

 

mind goin’ a million miles an hour
stephanie, stephanie
i wish you had seen me change
stephanie, i fell in love
with the blessed high mountain range

how’d you do that, son?
go from anger to so much fun
becoming one with the wilderness

did somebody teach you?
how did you know to push on through?
you’re heart wide open to everyone

my boy
we’re so thankful we had you here
all i can do is shed a tear
abel

 

 

we drum

med·i·cine
[ˈmedəsən]
NOUN

the practice of diagnosis, treatment, and prevention of dis-ease

spell, charm, or fetish believed to have healing, protective, or other power

 

per·cuss
[pərˈkəs]
VERB

gently tap (a part of the body) with a finger or an instrument to diagnose
“the heart was percussed”

 

HEART FOUND TO BE NEEDING MORE PERCUSSION

 

per·cus·sion
[pərˈkəSHən]
NOUN

musical instruments played by striking with hand, stick or beater, or by shaking, including drums, cymbals, xylophones, gongs, bells, rattles

the striking of one solid object with or against another

wind producing a clattering percussion of tree branch against stone

 

rhythm

[ˈriT͟Həm]
NOUN

a strong, regular, repeated pattern

 

WOMEN BLEED WITH REGULARITY, IN PREDICTABLE RHYTHM WITH THE MOON

 

drum
[drəm]
VERB

play on a drum
NOUN

a percussion instrument sounded by being struck with sticks or hands, typically cylindrical, barrel-shaped, or bowl-shaped with a taut membrane over one or both ends

something resembling or likened to a drum in shape, in particular

an evening or afternoon tea party of a kind that was popular in the late 18th and early 19th century
 

WOMEN GATHERED IN A DRUM, TO DRUM

 

raised arm
open hand

striking sacrificed skin of lamb, buffalo, horse, goat
mined metal or carved wooden frame or vessel vibrating
producing antidote

we drum . we become drum

closed heart opening with each beat of drum
pounding of heart opening chakra after chakra
reopened channels funneling divine nourishment
body and spirit align
we dine on sound
dancing around the cherished goddess, embodied in teacher
we again become the goddess

we learn . we become teacher
we heal . we become healer

marimba sneaks up to the drum
dances it’s peaceful, seductive mantra alone
rhythm marries tone
frequent high and low wooden voice
speaks to it’s lover with ease
drum and marimba resonate
a palpable palliative essence

air passes from lung to tip of tongue, past pursed lips
or through wide open mouth
controlled by larynx
toned muscle delivering tonal clarity
muscle contraction release contraction release
spatial compression expansion compression expansion

trapping air, releasing POP
capturing air, releasing BA . bo bo

words from any language sung in rhythm
whispered secret
murmured grief
melodic healing tone
cry of anguish
exclamation of joy
healing verbal expression bringing relief

we sing . we become song

closed heart opening with each beat of drum
pounding through sorrow

dun dun . dun dun . dun dun
taka taka
dun dun
taka taka
dun dun . dun dun . dun dun
taka taka
dun dun
taka taka
dun dun

reopened channels funneling divine nourishment
body and spirit align
we dine on sound
 

born to drum 2016 : 10th anniversary

   

murdered twice

murdered twice
a thousand times
noose, baton, bullet to the back
each electric jolt makes me shed my skin
i molt
then return again
with heart that you lack

you killed my body
then slandered my name
murdered me twice
in your violent game
lynched me as emmet
lynched me, tamir
you never dreaming
that your end is near

murder me now
keep eyes peeled for when
a million of me stand before you
flowers in hand, guns at the ready
we band together to tear you apart
by any means necessary
we’ll make a new start without you

my name is tamir
my name is emmet
my name is tamir
my name is emmet
my name is tamir
my name is emmet
rice and till

bound together by your violence
my name is legion

worries

waking at every sound
or no sound at all
startled by silence
footprints down the hall

ghosts of real and imagined threat
wafting from rafters
crouching under floorboards
smirking from behind paintings of safe places
seeping out from fountains of fear
pent up emotion paces
exploding from mountains of weariness
years of exhaustion
my face wet
each teardrop an expression of grief
my own or someone else’s loss
engraved like a tattoo on my heart
then another, and another
just when i start to recover
yet another grieving father and mother appear

these worries are as real as my face
changing form with the mood
tangible as bills not paid
a table without food

we eat his words for breakfast

honoring the prophet john trudell

 

prophet is dragged away kicking and screaming
or silently dreaming
leaving the battle behind

world steadily turning
churning with degradation, greed, confusion
reed blowing soft notes
whispering lamentation
reminder that earth is mother
humanity is other

voice of reason dispersed
tiny particles of sound joining ancestors
enormous soul of love joining ancestors
booming voice of warning joining ancestors

tiny particles of sound joining with my own soul
enormous soul of love joining with my own soul
booming voice of warning joining with my own soul

we suffer this loss in tearful silent weeping
loud wailing
intermittent grieving

as this spirit departs
our own spirits, refilled with passion
rise up to the daunting task
we will be replacing this guiding voice
with a million of our own tiny voices

intermittent grieving
alternating with bursts of new action

this one soul departing
leaving many souls replenished

as we bemoan loss of this prophet
we eat his words for breakfast
shoring up our promise to continue his work
his courage becomes our own
his depth of knowing infuses our brains
his unrelenting tenacity
infusing our blood
a life sustaining transfusion
emphatically dispersing delusion

deadly forces lurking in shadows
now struggling to emerge
as the one voice of one man
multiplies to millions

the prophet becomes the people
the people become the prophet

response to pool party police state cheerleaders

i don't know why i bother

i don’t know why i bother

i don’t feel inclined to engage with you at all, since you seem to believe that police have the right to teach a child a lesson by using violence against that child

you know NOTHING of what that child’s parents taught her . she wasn’t committing a crime, and quite apparently knows her constitutional rights include not being subject to the demands of police when she’s not committing a crime

police are not that child’s daddy, and have no authority to ‘teach her a lesson in respect’

police have no authority over us without being able to show probable cause to ticket a driver or otherwise make an arrest or keep us away from imminent danger . they have the right to inquire whether we’re willing to talk with them, not force us to stay and talk with them . my children were taught to not talk with police, at all

if casebolt wanted to teach a lesson in a legal manner, he could’ve RESPECTFULLY asked if any of the kids were willing to talk to him about what had occurred . another officer was doing exactly that and having perfect success . in fact, casebolt assaulted the kids who were voluntarily talking with the other officer

that girl showed the courage to have self-respect … to stand her ground (while she was attempting to get a ride home, and possibly afraid to leave her innocent friends in custody of a lunatic cop) … to know that she is not a subject in the kingdom of casebolt, nor a subject in a police state . she had the courage to tell that cop that he was wrong . many of the kids showed that same courage

casebolt didn’t exhibit a shred of courage

you sound like the type of person who doesn’t have that courage, and would stand back and allow a cop to beat someone just because the one delivering the beatdown is wearing a costume and carrying a badge . you insinuate that you are obedient . that’s your choice to be that, but you are not required, by law, to be obedient . also, you being obedient when you’re not legally obligated to be so only feeds the illusion to police that we agree to allow them to lord it over us . they only have that power if we give it to ’em

why would you want to do such a thing?

let me clue you in : there is a reason plenty of towns are going broke paying out lawsuits for police brutality . this is one more chance for you to learn that it has to do with the law and our rights being violated by police . tens of millions of dollars go to police brutality ‘settlements’ in my town . that’s tens of millions of dollars on top of the more than quarter of the city budget being paid to police in the first place . this is not a problem in only my town . it’s a problem across the board from coast to coast, canada to mexico

and fyi, i’ve repeatedly had my rights violated by police, was not convicted of any crimes from those incidents, and i’m an old half greek pale skinned woman

so … your wrong assumption makes your conclusions wrong . i don’t use my race as a scapegoat (and that sentence of yours makes no sense whatsoever)

who brought race into this? the two grown women and ‘security’ man who were yelling racial epithets, or the kids? one of the grown men who was part of this has a record for mutilating and murdering animals . seriously . is that who those kids should obey?

another clue : calling out racism isn’t a racist act . racism is real . these three white supremacist adults in this video … four, including casebolt, exhibited a stream of racist acts . they were practically a public service announcement giving the perfect examples of how to be racist . some of those acts were caught on film, some weren’t . some of those acts were illegal, and some were just ignorant and mean

this isn’t about your opinion or my opinion . there are definitions of words

racism is the systemic oppression of a group defined by their race, skin color, or ethnic heritage … by the group holding political, economic and physical power . in this country, only white people hold that power over others

prejudice is the word to describe any person or group prejudging another based upon any number of variables

it’s true that i hold prejudice against police as an institution, and against racist fucks and individual criminal cops and police state cheerleaders

it is racist to yell racial slurs . that’s just the way language works . that sentence is a true statement . it’s child abuse to yell racial slurs at children . based upon testimony from multiple people . that occurred and it was a racist act . when an older teen, a very young adult, stepped in to try to get the racist rant to stop, one of the women slapped her . this happened . it was a hate crime . she wouldn’t have called the children those names had they been white, and she likely would not have slapped a white person of the same age, though women like her are difficult to assess

then she called police to cover for herself . others also called police

if police had arrived during a fight, they would’ve been legally justified in breaking up the fight (without harming unarmed people in a tussle), and even handcuffing the three women who were fighting . they would have been justified in asking questions about what had occurred, but would not have the authority to make anyone answer … no authority to detain anyone who isn’t fighting when they arrive

nobody was fighting when police arrived

three grown white people who had lodged racist epithets then proceeded to point out kids they wanted to have illegally grabbed by police . they were, in effect, lying to police … which is a crime i had forgotten to notice ’til right now . they basically filed false police reports

regardless, police still had no legal authority to force compliance, as kids were leaving after being accused of ‘trespassing’ . one cannot be arrested for ‘trespassing’ if one isn’t on someone’s property with that person being the sole authority on who can stay … ie other residents of the neighborhood had invited the kids, giving that women no more authority than other residents to determine who could stay or who had to leave

if you were my roommate and i brought five people over for dinner, you couldn’t call the police and get them to evict my friends . that would be illegal for you to try, and more illegal for police to fulfill your request or demand

this situation is a very clear example of casebolt and the other adults making choices based upon the skin color of those they chose to attack . they made choices, and should be held accountable

they each should face a jury of their victims’ peers

   

profit is an invention

profit is an invention by capitalists

there is no such thing as profit

resources + labor = product

resources + well paid labor = expensive product

responsibly gleaned resources + well paid labor = cost prohibitive product

this is math . that is a correct mathematical equation . there is no such thing as profit . if resources have to be gleaned responsibly (no pollution, no illness/injury to workers), and laborers have to be fairly compensated, most corporations would be put out of business . capitalists would voluntarily quit rather than become destitute