Sadness of Truth

This child, born into today’s diseased and deranged society.
The child innocent, helpless, self-loving.
Living on natural instincts, needs food, shelter, happiness, pleasure.
Reaches to experience truth and the pure, true, genuine realities of life,
Just as any other living creature would want.

But this a creature human.
Born into a diseased and deranged society,
This fiction we know as “society” of humans,
From the instant of conception, subjected to evil, insanity,Child_lost
Deranged unnatural madness and pain.

Society deliberately sets out to destroy this child,
Mind, soul, and body, just as it seeks to destroy every child.
Every child, born perfect, must be broken into pieces,
Moulded into the twisted, irrational, and insane,
A lie-based reflection of the society we allow,
That which rules over us, existing to victimized individuals.

With limitless malice, this the endless cycle,
Genocidal torture and destruction of human life,
Legitimized and validated by the leaders of all,
“Destroy your children, as your parents destroyed you.”
At every turn, derangements await, child ownership, torture, brainwashing,
Societal punishment of its own tortured victims,
War, legalized murder, and hundreds of others,
Each rendered as natural,
A normal, sensible, moral, vital truths, doctrines, and dogma,
But in reality, indescribable derangement on which they’re each based.

Most of us have little or no real tolerance for the truth and holding even,
The deepest of contempt for it within us, and not even realizing it…

George Carlin, who understood this quite well, expounded on the idea like this:

“People are wonderful. I love individuals. I hate groups of people. I hate a group of people with a ‘common purpose’. ‘Cause pretty soon they have little hats. And armbands. And fight songs. And a list of people they’re going to visit at 3am. So, I dislike and despise groups of people, but I love individuals. Every person you look at; you can see the Universe in their eyes, if you’re really looking.”

An Answer of Sorts

There is so much wrong with the world.
There is no hope for tomorrow.
The people have lost their way.
We must war on all the bad.
There is no future for our youth.
No future for mankind!

You have heard it so much that you believe it true.
Despair and foreboding fill you.
And hope fades, as anger grows.
You swear to make a difference.
You promise yourself to make the world better.
Heal the wounds, repair the damage, restore the balance.
You declare ‘war’ on the evil.
The war on terror, war on drugs, war on ‘them’, war on their ‘ways’.
Yet the days and years continue to pass by.
The great wheel turns and the problems seem to continue to grow.

To put the world right, we must first put the nation right.
To put the nation right, we must first put the family right.
And to put the family right, we must first put ourselves to order,
Set our hearts right.

A good start would be a promise to yourself to be too large for worry. Worry brings fear and doubt, holding you back from what you can be. Worry serves nothing more than to consume your resources and limit possibility. Focus on what you can change, and let go of what you can’t.

Make yourself too noble for anger. Anger only hurts the one who is angry. Anger builds walls of pain, and promotes continuation of conflict. Let your anger go and use the strength of it to hold to your connection with life, Spirit, and happiness.  Find peace where others find war.

Be too strong for fear.
Fear is another weakness that stops us from working toward the good we all seek. And what do we really have to fear?  Pain? Death? Holding to our connection to Spirit, to our knowledge of our place in the universe, the true balance of all things, and to where we come from and return to, holding to all of that, what is there to truly fear? Put fear from you, and instead embrace life and the living of it.  True happiness comes from fully enjoying the smallest of moments, and living in peace and happiness with all creation.  Fear drives this away from you.

And finally, allow yourself to be too happy to permit the presence of trouble. Do not ‘make war’ against a thing, but rather work toward happiness and a better future.  No matter what is around you, no matter what others may be saying or doing to persuade you, simply hold to your own happiness and share that with others.  Darkness only has the power over you that you allow.  Hold to the happiness and embrace the joys of life.  Allow yourself to love openly and freely, and to share that love with all of existence.  Spread that love, happiness and joy all around you whenever you can, and you will find that the world will respond in kind.

Teach yourself these simple goals, and perhaps, and maybe in surprise, you will find that all those problems have somehow gone away, and your world is a much better place.

Steve ‘Easy’ Whitacre Nov. 8th, 2006

The Reason

In an almost unbearable burst of enlightened thought
A moment of crystal clarity, and unity of mind and soul
I find myself here, at this spot, at this time
And ask, what we all boon to ask
The question all must ask of them-selves to become whole

There must be a reason, a plan, some greater command
Some guiding force weaving the threads of the tapestry of my life
The potter’s hand that has shaped me for a purpose that I am to serve
Some finite goal not shared, but there regardless
Awaiting the day when I’m truly prepared
And I am here…

Marching back through my memories and lessons
I can now see the pattern emerging
The trials put before me to build my strength and character
Loves filling my very soul to build my compassion
Losses to embed my understanding and insight
The long, slow awakening of that who I am today

And now, in rapturous and joyful discovery
The answer is at long last found within
The simplicity and propriety of the solution
In its self, yet another of that guiding hands special wonders
All the pain and anguish of the long hard years recede in importance
As the reason becomes so clear

I am here to be your friend…

Steve ‘Easy’ Whitacre December 6th, 2005

This Cannot Stand

Is there anyone left to care anymore
This life of subsistence deadening our hearts
Constant manipulation from those holding sway
Horrific visions of hate and use gone unnoticed
Power and greed rending death to thousands
Color, creed, or blood enough to end their paths
Who is there among you yet to care

The voices of the few, drifting on the winds
Telling stories, giving warning, unheard in the din
The blood-running river, the oil must flow
Both sides knowing, only they the right to go
Puppet masters pulling strings, telling what is real
Condemning any or all, dare they not follow this shtick
Pushed aside to be ground under heavy heal

I cannot stand aside
Hide my head within the sands
My dreams all showing true to path
Darkness spreads across this land
I must tell the stories, must share my humble fire
Give all warning of this end of time
Most urgent and harshly dire

Gentle reminders of Earth Mothers needs
Poignant memories contained by our souls
Of better days, a simpler time
Peaceful lives full of love’s embrace
Respect for all, whether minute or large
Knowing our small part in creation’s space
Harmony spreads, and peace comes too, across the Mother’s face

And in the silence of the mountains high
I hear the whispering call of the winds
“They will not listen. Cannot be made to care”
But I hold this cannot be true,
So I stand ready as always before, hand out to offer my aid
And reach for the brightest futures
Where my heart no longer need sob….

Steve ‘Easy’ Whitacre September 28th, 2007

Shadow Life

Lips pulled back in silent snarl
Anxious frantic need to be heard
Desperate quiet scream not escaping
Voice lost to din
Will I speak ere again

I stand here before you
Invisible shadow in your world
You don’t feel me, hear me not
Passing by, walk over, tread upon
Rejecting my very existence
Going through your day paying no heed

Am I but abstract thought
My presence but absence overwhelm
Echoing Empty void where my heart should be
This viscous solitude drowning out my words

Stay with me, talk to me
The slightest moment, a second of time
Watch me dance, see my smile
Feel my touch, know my care
Too much to ask

Reject me then, strike me down
Kill me with words or sword
Hold me up to ridicule and scorn
Anything but this immeasurable indifference

I would welcome your hatred
In place of your indifference
At the least the wounds, the hurts, the pain, are real
And even the scars giving something at least

A reminder that I exist…..

Steve ‘Easy’ Whitacre December 10th, 2007