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Monday, April 24, 2023

East and West Jeruselem

East Jerusalem, one of the most sacred of places in the world, is currently inhabited by mostly Palestinians, as it is under Palestinian control, yet is occupied by Israel and the Israeli government is encouraging Iranian settlers, which is leading to Palestinians being displaced. What is happening between Palestine and the Occupied Gaza Strip is downright--truthfully, downright-- apartheid, rooted in national identity. The Israel government does not treat Palestinian's well, as they do not negotiate, or, rather, aim to put into motion, their hopes, yearnings, and ambitions as a peoples, and they constantly forcibly displace them to make way for more Israel settlement in East Jerusalem (which is part of the Occupied Gaza Strip), and the rest of the Occupied Gaza Strip. Perhaps, because Palestinians have shown hospitality to Israel citizens who are engaged in a settlement process in territory under Palestines control, and especially because West Jerusalem already has so heavily been occupying East Jerusalem-- perhaps it would be appropriate to open the borders of Israel so East Jerusalem can saunter through and even settle down in West Jerusalem, one of the most sacred places in the world. There, as the Occupy The Noble Sanctuary, they can peacefully protest against Israel's continual human rights abuses and their circumcision of international law.

Wednesday, April 5, 2023

"The Garden"... a poem

 The Garden

In the fading garden of youth and love,

She is the rose that never fades and always shines bright and brilliant,

In the Fall, by the rose garden,

She has no doubt for her Springtime harvest

And she bundles up in enfolding spirit,

Always touching everyone she sees,

Never leaving them for a moment.

In the line of freedom,

Liberation and truth held high,

So we do not doubt what is on the ground

Or in the sky. The awesome breeze she brings

So inviting, to make the garden grow

Into a blooming masterpiece,

She is the creator.

by Ryan Ventriloquist

"blu", a poem, episode 2

episode 2: "two"


It was all good, all the time.

That’s what the man said to the woman,

About their lives sublime.

It was all right and just great.

That’s what she said to him,

Then said it makes her fate.

She said okay, all right,

That’s what I’m talking about

All night.

And it was just perfect.

All night.

She meant it.

Which was ideal for the man.

Because what he was doing

He meant too.

And that was the way

This was unfolding

Two of them going

Where they ought to be going

Two of them wildly going

To where they are better off being

Hand and hand

On top of the world.

They were there.

They were both there.

And they both shared it

And it was only with them

And it was perfect

And just right

And they both had it

All night

Okay, all right,

It truly last all night.

And all day.

That’s what they knew.

But they kept that inside.

They held close to that miracle.

They watched the peach trees

Turn to yellow and maroon

And then said, “I do,”

And then they were happily married:

Tiea and Blu, two.

by Ryan Ventriloquist

Saturday, April 1, 2023

"blu"... a poem, episode 1

she has got a bull's eye airlift quaint sight tremendous,
with mountains of rumination she has been made in her head,
and a behemoth of raspberry potions hidden in her homestead,
out of which she crafts good peace of rest, a mummified princess,
good without the taking, she calls, and good for all.
good without the deliberation, she claims, and any situation,
with goodness, peace, and serenity,
fresh air, flying to infinity,
good time, jutting through to approximately a new day
when she gives her life away,
so unreal, what's real is not the way it seems,
but we ought to be in it, we ought to be,
we ought to take lots of jogs by the pond,
with all the lights up leading us down the lawn,
and she wants to be with mr. great,
so she is always playing crazy eights,
knowing someone who has got a stacked deck,
will come out ahead in the sound of the way
the law is administered, the way, her sound comes out plentiful
and true, enough for me and for you,
her sound is overwhelming,
with peace that is calming,
and life that is giving,
and actions that are loving,
and thoughts that do not mind,
being perfectly in time,
to the sound of her shoes,
tap dancin' her melody right in tune,
where she is meant to be,
alone by the beach,
with me,
her and i alone,
us together,
us forever,
without any worries or cares at all.
she is all right, i am under her spell now,
and under my own which is her which is just as well,
i need her so bad, i will not crack my head,
i will just bleed it open for enough for to make sense,
and in the high spirits of the wealth of creation,
living in her nation, the whole world's nation,
born again into bliss inside her fair bosom,
oh what to do when all comes to you.
what to do when You tell me just as well
what to say, how to say it, and the order of your gong,
turn all the lights on. turn all the lights on!
she is singing her song, and i am dancing along,
now turn the lights up. turn those lights up!
we are dancing in threes and in fours with the odd meter she does,
and i am in tune with the dark side of the moon and the light side of the moon,
no-- all the moon, everything comes from inside the maker's eye,
if once, all at once, it will be there for all time,
this is the way, for His light shines, on her, on me, for all to see,
directly in our eyes, what is the way to what,
what is the question of what
how many whats is this child of God going to ask?

what is the way to the store?
down the road, take a left, past the ice cream truck, beside bob evans?
what is bob evans middle name?
it is eloquant and charming, yet bashful at times with the grizzlys and monkeys?
what is the point of not answering my questions?
all my answers tend to make sense?
what is the way toward what you intend to do?
tell my heart to you, right in time with
wait a minute.
i am sincere, we are both right here

i am here and you are here,
why is it you are making your way to the store?
to get some more?
to get a submarine for the one thing i know,
the one thing i know has never seen how much i glow.

we built up breaths of energy,
spread a halo of spirit around us,
that was stronger than any wind,
and faster than any light speed,
and slicker than any air,
and straight out of the movies.

for to see is to do an odd cylindrical backlift through the tune,
what she is is everything, light of day, the moonrise, the lights that light up
the welcoming night sky, where everything is right, where everything is fine,
and she is finally mine, the way it is supposed to be,
just right, all right, right in the way of her and me,
come here, come here, if You will condescend to your earthly servant,
come here, stay here, speak in the way the goddess of heaven and sky,
day and night, earth and satellites, all the universe in the palm of her mind,
Devi, what is it that you do just in tune and right in time,
how many times did you turn that miracle into my eye,
how many times did you speak with your tongue slanted toward believers' lives,
what is it you dance to without even looking for an answer,
as the questions are embedded within, with each eye open,
and a heart of a dolphin knowing the ship to the sea,
where you bring out life, and it is so meaningful,
so heartfelt and true, right in tune with the light side and the dark side,
no-- all of the moon. how much of the moon do you occupy,
and why do you condescend to a lowly creature like me,
who bit off the fruit that ended life in eden,
foreboding cheruzim calm as mouse elves,
without a house but a garden to dwell in,
how do you do it? how do you do what you do?
such smart grace, such fine tastes,
a motley plate of fine chocolates,
an arrangement of chocolates that are caring,
and just right for minitaure doves,
how did the dove come down?
just one or two?
just one! just right! with the voice of the Father saying, behold Him,
this is my Son, in Him i am well pleased,
how right, Devi, that He grants His cloak with miracles?
how fine that He taught twice in the great city,
i will dwell with you, Devi, in the great city,
in temples that are holy and solemn,
in the way His peace cannot be forgotten,
if you say the word, i will be swell,
for the right amount of time,
until i come back where the church bell leads,
right in lines of two,
right back to you,
Vishnu, where you give to an ark what a bird gives to her family,
each time she saves the planet,
which is never, to be quite exact,
but your avatars are more than all that,
i once was a deaf man, on me He touched His hand,
told me to tell just the minister, so the minister knew
He did what had been said.
how many times have you giving into counting up to infinity,
just to be let down,
when it never adds up.
never say never, except to the things,
that never made God's plan.
say impossible,
can you say what i say?
that's not impossible if done the correct way.
it was only a joke.
it is impossible, obviously,
but as you depict your face with a serene cave drawing,
i'm thinking of her as she thinks of me,
you are so holy and good, this i tend to know,
what can i do to be more right on for you?
what can i do to be more thoughtful in my jaw?
what can i do to be one you take care of?
just brush my teeth, wash my hands and feet,
comb my hair, dress my best, and pray to you who see,
you who save humankind when evil comes lurking down the way,
what can i do that is just for you?
be kind, be brave, be charming, until the grave.
be kind, be brave, be charming, until the grave.
be kind, be brave, be charming, until the grave.
when heaven finds its way
to me after the last quarter,
and old age collapses into ashes and a mary rose shower,
and my body is laid down under my sister's sheets,
where what is in between is a pale static voice that sings to the beach.

we'll go to the beach.
she'll be in it and i.

what can i do devi,
to make it to the afterlife?
did you read what was said?
follow the two commandments.
this way you cannot fail
from getting from earth to the most splendid temple ever.

and my forefather, david,
was it worth slaying for bathsheba?
everything you did,
you did with a fine tooth.
a fine comb that doesn't bother with the edges,
a tremendous holy city that is right for all twelve tribes,
and right in my eye,
and right under the sky, the light side and the dark side,
no-- all of the moon, and right in tune,
how beautiful is she!
that's right in your eye,
bring her a son
that she can be proud of,
make him a king,
you will live a fine life,
as you rule the nation israel,
by shield and by the bread of life.

and young Emmanuel,
scouting in the hills all the town,
so in awe of nature,
His hair brushed back,
feeling good,
feeling peace of love,
and right at the heart of the world,
where He stands,
looking in the distance of the nazarene countyside,
and seeing so much life,
always made up of life,
angels riding beside Him,
the goal in His eye,
the Savior for all of time,
entertaining pure mary,
on highway time,
when we're listening to the greatest tunes in the land,
the Messiah makes up in His mind.

what can i do for you, oh Prince of Peace, to bring more peace and make more right?
to bask in my ruminations of palm sunday, to witness Him ride a camel into the great city,
where what is in their eye can be misleading, but what is better than to be?
and to be with Him? and to follow Him where He leads.

to show for those who do not have ears to see,
the marks from the palm tree that brought death to the light of the world,
in the midst of the most life radiating, life again for everyone,
and to tell the wonderful woman to head to His disciples,
tell them the tomb is empty and He is heading to His children.

are you not aware that life is right here?
standing in the square, you can feel it without any cares.

you are aware?
i am so happy we stand in the light of love,
God's peace from above,
and He walked on water,
because He wanted a place to be alone,
but He would never forget His apostoles,
who follow where He goes,
not like a fox who has a hole to sleep in,
but all the day long like time without reason.
how good is it to stay in the heart of the moon,
and all of the moon,
to be in the light of the love.
i am happy to be in the light of the love.
i am headed to the afterlife,
in torquoise and ruby,
and diamonds and sapphire,
and life in the turtle's eggshell,
building bridges with calm patience,
building roads, taking time,
making peace, doing it right,
i am aware You are right here and in my eye,
moving to the perfect time,
leading me to the afterlife,
with every drop of grace running through me just right,
when moses lifted his staff and pharoh's men saw just how much israel is blessed,
what is the way to the maker's eye,
to always be a good samaritan while you sit in your love of the light,
where everything feels just right,
and time is in time,
and being is not strange or unreal,
and to be is the way you ought to feel,
rising above the clouds, away for some time,
coming again to judge all, the Maker of Life.

how many wonders have i encountered unawares and how many have lifted me off my balance?
how many times have i encountered the bottom of the ocean of Your wealth of life,
where all is fine, is right, just right all the time, that's right, right in time,
just fine, just right, all is all good and all is all day and all night. 

"in the breeze"... a poem

"in the breeze"

in the morning hour by the window clocks,
dressed to their finest, the ladies shop,
searching for warm coats to get them through
the winter season. a few scarfs to don,
wool knit hats, bellyaches in their child spasms,
what they have come looking for is to
keep their babies comfortable, because the
elements are biting, the wind is a tunnel,
they move around like this and like that
and hop on one foot to the counter as they chat,
as they take off to get a bit of coffee,
they can hardly even believe what their eyes see,
it is two white cats twisting in the air,
juggling them eight balls right down to time square.

by Ryan Ventriloquist