THE GREAT SATAN.
According to wiki, this ‘derogatory epithet’ for the United States (also used for the UK) was coined by Ayatollah Khomeini in May of 1979. It was in response to the imperialistic nature and the sponsoring of world wide corruption by the USA.
Iran (and other Middle Eastern countries) was basically cut up and divied between Britain and Russia in the 1907 agreement. Iran still retained its sovereignty but of course was still under the influence of the USA and other nations until the 1960’s-1970’s where the Shah of Iran was placed in power by a sponsored coup by the USA and intelligence services.
The reason being, was of course, oil.
So to ensure the interests of the oil companies (and to crush a supposed communist uprising in Iran) leaders are removed, deposed or just downright taken out to further the advancement of evil imperialistic nations that do the bidding of the super-rich who control EVERYTHING.
I think ‘The Great Satan’ sums up the USA in stark realistic terms. Studies abound as to the veracity that the super-rich control everything that we do. Their influence on political policy and how countries (this is global) are run is evident. The populace of any country but especially the USA is constantly distracted and side-tracked by social issues that keep us fighting between each other so they can steal, plunder and pillage. When are going to learn that there really are two worlds, two sets of rules and that we are all slaves. We don’t have ‘freedom’ or ‘Liberty’ or any other of the Right-wing buzz words that people in denial like to use. I was listening to George Carlin yesterday and his rant on the elite and having ‘no choice’ really hit home. I have listened to it many times before, and I would recommend that everyone check it out.
I love the USA but the morons who enable the rich to stay in power by corruption and other nefarious means need to be culled. As do the evil rich that keep us slaves.
-TDB.
Lowercase i
If i told you language always came easy to me then i would be lying.
i remember sitting silently while father played dominos with gangsters. Eye’s as wide as George Bushes ego in its prime. i don't remember much about those nights except i felt safe. Who would have known my demeanor would mirror so many of their character traits. Who would have known my black box could have taken me so far. Who would have known that no one would be there to help my conscience swim back to the shore. One of the days if i don’t stop writing it will kill me. Not writing will kill me quicker. A big bad bitch dressed up as a big bad witch casted a spell on me a long time ago. Whispered into my blues, into the hues of everything i knows. Taught me how to switch vernacular switch diction, tone and pitch. Taught me the only thing that matters at that time, is the creation process at that time. Give into it like good pussy. Don’t think twice about it, and try not to hold onto memories, or look back. Guaranteed your heart will pillar its self salt. Guaranteed more than your penis will turn itself into stone. No matter what sex you are.
Breathe bravado thru the use of broken language when the boatsmen token is famous. Flip the penny anyways. Know the rules well enough not to give a fuck when giving in to a flipping fools luck of the draw. Head or tales, the answer would always be getting head or getting tail. Giving get ahead or tall tales. The pour has always been liquid. No matter what sex you are. Drink the water. Set your alarm clock. Eat the ice cream. Preorder a tombstone and stiff the waiter on the check. Leave change in the vending machine. Piss on the side of the road.
Finger paint an “i love you” on a canvas and hang it in a frame by your door.
i warned you that “running after your future” pull its hamstring a long time ago. Thats cool. As long as the fire in your heart is not. Don't take yourself so serious. Switch up your vernacular and speak dreamscape fluently. Switch up your diction and stop being an asshole so much. Simply for the sake of loving life, lowercase your “i” sometimes simply out of respect for the unknown. You can’t always be a giant in your ego. And whatever you do, and i MEAN whatever YOU DO….don’t hold onto your birthdate. It’s guaranteed to kill you in the end.
So this next round of drinks is dedicated to the lowercase “i” in all of us. We have many more anniversary’s to celebrate. For we are all holograms in a house full of funny mirrors. So laugh at life as much as you can, it’ll make living all worth it....i love you...…eat the ice cream…
-CP Maze
May 9, 2014
Our Story
There were days I wanted out. There were days I felt my desires and my abilities were conflicting. I wanted more, but too much got to me. Then I saw you. Blue eyes glistening in the warmth of a Texas December evening brought out by the color of your suit—navy has always suited you well. There was something happening. Something my heart and mind could not formulate. Even 1960s whiz kids couldn’t quantify the equation for our future. Flash forward. 6 months. We had fun. Music drifting into our ears as we sipped on situations would soon turn into distant memories. I fell for you. Hard. My hands always provided protection, but for once, some one else caught me. You fell for me. Hard. But I’ve never been quite sure if you knew it in the summer of 2010. Sun burned skin and drunk Sunday morning kisses. In November, I found out I’d be a mother. For the first time. Not by you. I was scared. I called you crying when I walked in on her father cheating. Then it was December again. Knowing you for a year, I found comfort with my head on your chest. You told me it was all going to be okay. Nine months later, not long after your 21st birthday, she was born. Hair so golden. Eyes so blue. I was taken back to a year and a half earlier, when I first met you. I named her Gracelyn. There was something so elegant about her smile. When you first held her, I saw something change in your smile. It was love. I remembered that from many months earlier. But this, this was different. There’s nothing quite like a father’s love for his baby girl. Who knew, in another nine months, we’d get the news again. If I remember correctly, I took four tests—for you, none of them felt right so we went to the doctor—we heard a heartbeat. You were so happy. But scared. This was new. You’d experience every step this time, side by side, I told you I love you. I told you, I love us. After three years and eleven days of knowing you, our second baby girl came into this world. There was always something in her smile that reminded me of her Daddy. You picked her name—Alyssa—meaning noble. She was so beautiful. I remember you. So happy. So in love. The next few weeks were a blur. Late nights. Empty pockets. Filled heart. Everything was worth it. Then there was the ring. It came in late April. Beautiful. I began planning right away. I wanted the colors to be ivory and blue. Blue has always looked good on you. August 9, 2014. That would be the day. Two little girls walking between me and you. Three months later. There was a fight. I left. I’ve never been more sorry. I love you. Always will. I placed the ring on our kitchen table. I began to time travel back to our past. When we were happy. I missed you. For several months, I fought for you. At some point in November, I began writing again. I projected my feelings onto paper in metaphors and sick lines. I still love you. Our babies. Growing so fast. I write about that too. Instead of talking to you in the car, I memorize the poems I wrote for you. There was this book I started—when we got engaged. I wrote a poem each week. When we got married, it was going to be your present. I hid it in my room. Some times, when I want to replay the past, I pull it out. I read it. Have I mentioned, I miss you? I think it was February, and I found my best friend again. I’ve missed the road trips—the late night conversations. The poetry we both love. I saw our daughters smile again. Mommy and Daddy were both with them. I fell for you once before, but I’m falling hard again. Today, you were in my arms again. You held me again. Your eyes spoke so softly. Like they used to. When we first met, I knew something was happening. Four years, five months and two days later—I still love you. Our babies—miss you. I miss you. But nights like this resurrect memories, like ghosts haunting a place I used to feel safe. Today, I still know something is happening. Our story lets me travel back. Far back. Back to the very beginning.
-Steph
52
He said, "do you believe in fate"
And I thought, we're here now right--
I replied with a smiling yes.
The glow in his eyes reflected the fire of pure passion heating up in my defensive heart.
I think I loved a part of him the instant I looked into his eyes for the first time. I didn't quite fathom that this human did exist--the one I conjure and fantasize with in my fickle imagination.The feeling in my ovaries made my whole body tingle. He is like creation--real, ambitious, genuine, absolutely breathtakingly beautiful human being, & lovely inside and out.
I could see who he is truly is from the inside first. The windows of his soul spoke depth with a stare that killed all my doubts. It shot me down. It suffocated my ego and I knew what it felt like to want to submit all your guards to another soul. His physical build is incredible and his energy mesmerizes my mind, followed by my body. Attracted like atoms that combine and change everything around us.
I can feel you from a distance.
You seem to heal me in a way that I don't put up a resistance.
I love our instant connection and the openness of our dialogue. Intelligence is the sexiest thing about you and I have been craving that my whole life.
Breath and feel the refreshing beginning of something that already feels comfortably familiar like a breath of fresh air, he says.
His poetry makes my half smile a comfort zone that I could get used to. He told me he wants me to get used to a lot of this because it will only grow into something bigger.
I appreciate the Creator providing us with an opportunity larger than ourselves.
I'm humbled by our chemistry...
-Sunny
Time Travels when you're having Love
This time last year, I had broken up with a red head for a few months. Started working a lot to keep myself busy. Focused my extra time towards art.
Losing weight, better shape, life was improving.
Made amends to the friends I had wronged due to an insecure lover and now my life was back on track. I would soon mess all of that up by taking her back and going back on everything I said, I ate all of my gut instincts at the will of my starved heart.One year later, copy paste the first paragraph here. Minus the getting back and messing up again. Add a second job and no extra time for art.
Mix in the biggest sobriety kick I've ever endured since before I even started drinking.
And top it off with the death of my alter ego and you have a time lapse of how I got here today. None of it ideal, but I definitely feel blessed to still be alive and kicking.
Death and I had a one night stand and she didn't feel like going all the way. Said I was too drunk and she felt like she would be taking advantage of me so she left me with a kiss that hit like air bags.
The last lady I loved left me with a busted lip as well. She had a very special way of saying I love you. The last lady who actually loved me had turn the tables of when we first met. One of us caught up in convenience, the other driving like a whim. I stopped talking to her once I realized I had her heart in my hands.
Sometimes I get hungry like that.
Drinking and driving women are the only two sentences I ever finish.
The rest are run ons that I never see bleed, heavy or light. I have art projects on ice since 2008.
The only part of me that makes me feel like it has anything to truly contribute to this world I never followed through with a finishing move. I get distracted by love. I get creative when drunk. That means I've diving into new pieces of art of starting new ones.
So far this year has played out like dejavu. I've had more thoughts and dreams about her than I care to.
I've written less poetry, more articles, practiced my ass off, and found myself at peaceful standstill. But I don't want to stand still.
I NEED to move forward to a place I had always told myself I belonged. Where my friends and family who believe in me as a writer/performer know I can reach.
I'm grateful for Cum Laude.
Showing me I still have the commitment to drove me to finish my first book and cd.
This is our one year anniversary of you believing in me.
Thank you.
I'll give you the best the world has never seen of me.
No more back sliding to love.
Just passion for us.
My present to you, is a better yearly review for our next anniversary issue. One that includes all of the amazing things we're about to do.
-DCR
Light Speed of Love
I used to get mad at my past and my choices in men
but all of that had to teach me what I didn't want
And that all along
I needed you
Time travel is loving someone
Being a part of someone's everything And never skipping a chance to warp through a growth stage
to become who we fell in love with today
Joining forces only makes us stronger
Proves a tighter bond
We would create impeccable DNA strands and make ordinary men look less than evolved
Our minds collide like a tide meets the sand With pressure
Ever changing the sediment to it's own constantly morphing natural art form
Your energy pulls me
It pushes me up and I can
See how everything up until this point
Has made me perfect for you
Your love produces warmth and brightens my internal glow
And it doesn't posses a shadow
Step into the light of my time tunnel
Let's travel the light speed of love Complete harmony in our frequency
This is sent from up above
-Sunny
