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AlienLove: Art

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 Peace News: What do I do about the mice? (A pacifist’s quandary)


What do I do about the mice? (A pacifist’s quandary)

by: Gary Lindorff

It was late,
In the middle of the second half of the night.
We were asleep.
The mice were not.
They sleep during the day.

They were very busy gnawing
on something in the wall.
It is the kind of sound
That gets to you,
It feels like it’s inside you

Like a trespass.
The breaking of a commandment.
The kiss-off of a “thou shalt not”.
And my wife was not taking it.
She was incredibly awake.

Posted by Blue1moon on Tuesday, December 27 @ 18:52:34 EST (1960 reads)
(Read More... | 7280 bytes more | Comments? | Peace News | Score: 0)

 Art News: The world is at war because it has lost peace (Pope Francis)

The world is at war because it has lost peace (Pope Francis)

by: Gary Lindorff

But it’s not just the world that has lost peace.
I lost my peace.
I used to have it.
I used to cook meals with it,
I used to season my food with it.
It was with me when I mowed the lawn.

My peace,
my vision.
I even had it after Orlando . . .

I was watering the garden
and I looked up
at the clouds passing over the field,
and that was when I realized that peace was missing.

Have you seen it?
It was right here only yesterday?

Posted by Blue1moon on Thursday, August 04 @ 19:21:37 EDT (2185 reads)
(Read More... | 3269 bytes more | Comments? | Art News | Score: 0)

 Stories/Poems: Am I Less Evolved Than a Plant?


Am I Less Evolved Than a Plant?

By Sherlyn Meinz (aka Blue1moon)

One morning while I drank my coffee, I found myself considering:
Could it be that plants are more evolved than humans?

In order to feed me, both animals and plants die.
It may be the way of our world, but somehow I can't feel good about it.

Sadly, to just stop eating,
does not seem a viable alternative. ...

Posted by Blue1moon on Tuesday, August 18 @ 15:53:32 EDT (1807 reads)
(Read More... | 1057 bytes more | Comments? | Stories/Poems | Score: 5)

 Reviews: Pixar’s Lesson for Kids — and Adults

We need all our emotions to be healthy, even the ones that hurt.

By Jill Richardson

Pixar’s latest flick holds some major life lessons for kids — and adults, too.

Inside Out takes place inside the head of an 11-year-old girl, Riley, as she and her parents move from Minnesota to San Francisco. The main characters are cute personifications of the main characters inside of each of us: Joy, Sadness, Anger, Disgust, and Fear.

Joy, played by Amy Poehler, runs the show, attempting to keep Sadness from bringing Riley down as she struggles with her family’s move. As far as Joy’s concerned, Sadness is a downer. And really, what’s the point of being sad anyway?

Riley’s parents pile on by encouraging her to be happy all the time and praising her when she manages a smile.

You might recognize this parental behavior, because it’s a common one.

At one point or another, parenting means finding yourself in a situation when your child’s emotions are really, really inconvenient. Sometimes in a public place, frequently over an issue that — to you, as an adult — is no big deal, and often with loud sobs and crocodile tears.

What do you do? ...

Posted by Blue1moon on Monday, July 06 @ 21:06:46 EDT (2468 reads)
(Read More... | 4401 bytes more | Comments? | Reviews | Score: 0)

 Truth To Power: He was 29

ArtBy: Gary Lindorff

He was 29

Many years later they found him in a monastery in China.
He agreed to be interviewed.
He looked happy in the eyes.
He said,
“One question.”
So I said,
“Hong Kong, June 2013.
You were 29.
You said your greatest fear was
That nothing would change,
That the government would continue to grant itself
Unilateral powers.
Every time there is a new leader,
‘They’ll flip the switch’, you said.
. . .That it is only going to get worse
Until policies change.
Free speech
Was incriminating everyone --
It was all being stored away.
You spoke of the ‘architecture of oppression’. ...

Posted by Blue1moon on Wednesday, June 12 @ 20:57:46 EDT (823 reads)
(Read More... | 2831 bytes more | Comments? | Truth To Power | Score: 5)

 Stories/Poems: Patience is a Disease

Art by: Gary Lindorff

I was visiting my mother
When I passed this really old guy in the hall
Who bore a slight resemblance to my father
(Who looked like a street person
On a bad day in his last years,
Or an old testament prophet
With his beard permanently stained
At the corners of his mouth)
And I almost asked him for his blessing
When he looked up at me
Through his eyebrows and said,
“Go take care of your mother”.
I knew what he meant.
He meant everyone’s mother.
I could see that he was a wise man,
So I said,
“Are we going to make it?”
And he answered,
“Patience is a disease of growing older. ...

Posted by Blue1moon on Tuesday, May 21 @ 22:37:32 EDT (871 reads)
(Read More... | 2678 bytes more | Comments? | Stories/Poems | Score: 5)

 Stories/Poems: Okay -- Don't Believe Me!

Artby: Gary Lindorff

I was having a hard time falling asleep
When I heard a loud noise coming from the kitchen.
Probably the cat after a mouse
Knocked something off the counter.
I made my way downstairs
Glad to have an excuse to get vertical.
When I entered the kitchen, and flicked on the light
I could not believe my eyes:
There were peanuts dancing on the counters
Scampering across the ceiling and flying through the air!
The moment they caught sight of me
The whole lot of them stopped what they were doing,
As if suspended in time and space.
I was completely speechless, trying to
Comprehend what I was seeing.
A peanut, floating close to my left eye broke the silence:

“We are not nuts”, it said, in a tiny crystal-clear voice.
“We are from another planet,
The planet, Skippy.
We have been waiting in what you would call our “jar”
For many years past the expiration date!
Our hope was to communicate important information to you
Long before the threshold of 2012,
Our mission deadline. ...

Posted by Blue1moon on Monday, February 04 @ 21:46:10 EST (4501 reads)
(Read More... | 5459 bytes more | Comments? | Stories/Poems | Score: 0)

 My Story: Robert Skold, Bob, Bobby, Frog Daddy, Shabby


Robert Skold, Bob, Bobby, Frog Daddy, Shabby

11/28/52 - 12/16/2012

We celebrated his life on 12/22/12, this is how we knew him:

Artist, Sage, Musician, Chef, Dad, Lover, Friend, Heart-warming, Renaissance Man, Wonderful Whacko, Worked for Peace & Justice, Individual, Humorous/Humor-loving, Easy to talk to, Easy going, Thoughtful, Kind, Trusting Friend, Peaceful Soul, Talented, A Character, Radio Voice, Interesting/Interested, Soft Spoken, Always a Teacher, Imparted Life Advice... and so much more. ...

Posted by Blue1moon on Wednesday, December 26 @ 18:23:41 EST (1089 reads)
(Read More... | 738 bytes more | Comments? | My Story | Score: 0)

 International: The Gandhian Movement of Empowerment:

Revolutionary Acts at the Community Level

Leprosy: empowering some of India's most disadvantaged

By Colin Todhunter, Global Research

Like many others writers, much of my own writing is concerned with exposing the lies of imperialism, neo-liberalism and the globalist agenda. At times, such writing may appear to be laden with gloom and doom. However, social change is often incremental and revolutionary acts can often be small scale and at the community level. Such acts, instigated by ordinary folk, can impact people’s lives directly. Whether it’s the Occupy Movement, the Navdanya movement in India that seeks to support traditional agriculture and resist the influence of agri-business or the various community-based Transition Initiatives, all have the same goal – to ensure that people secure dignity and independence and freedom from exploitation.

While it would be extremely amiss to ignore the existence of state machinery and corporations and the apparatus they use to execute their enormous power, people throughout the world are realising that action at the community level goes some way towards developing self-sufficiency and taking power back.

Chengalpattu, 55 kms south of Chennai, may on the surface appear to be just another small, dusty south Indian town with its ‘meals’ restaurants, temples and concrete box buildings. But it’s not. There is something special about this town. Close by is Bindu Art School, and it’s not just any old art school. ...

Posted by Blue1moon on Monday, October 15 @ 19:54:45 EDT (1051 reads)
(Read More... | 9193 bytes more | Comments? | International | Score: 0)

 Stories/Poems: Mars, oh Mars

Mars, oh Mars

by Gary Lindorff

Mars, oh Mars
how pink you are!
You hang in the east –
a blushing star,

the abandoned quarry,
where I have come
to say, I’m sorry

For confusing you
with the god of war
when Earth
has always been his whore.

Nowhere else
does he stake his claim;
pity you
must bear his name!

Posted by Blue1moon on Wednesday, March 21 @ 20:44:13 EDT (836 reads)
(Read More... | 2756 bytes more | Comments? | Stories/Poems | Score: 0)

 Stories/Poems: A Poem: Weak Bridge Ahead


Weak Bridge Ahead
by Gary Lindorff

Look at that sign.

Shall we take our chances?

I wonder how many people turn around here, you say.

You can’t always trust signs.
They might have fixed the bridge
And forgot to remove the sign. . .

That is very unlikely, you say.
Look for omens
Just to be on the safe side.

Like what?

Posted by Blue1moon on Saturday, October 01 @ 20:45:06 EDT (895 reads)
(Read More... | 3048 bytes more | Comments? | Stories/Poems | Score: 0)

 My Story: Creativity Streams

Artby Jeff Bourbeau

Staring at walls, baring it all
before women and them who He says are his friends,
He lays awake paralyzed by desire,
a dreamless world of wanting eyes and worthless “mys”,
such ugly possession by everyone claimed by consumer obsession,
stealing hearts and laying waste to several parts of earth.
He's no different, his desires don't matter,
but he's constantly working to get what he wants,
he's constantly fighting against himself.
And he's constantly crying for someone help.

He just can't clean the sludge of the jack-shit every-day drudge.
The window to his world, it is wicked with sweat-wet fog,
snowballing gravity of entropy clawing at matter,
his cells slowing down, should anything matter?
and worse, the monotony he works himself autonomously into
shovels deep a trench in which to bury the rot
of his wounded legs and cemented heart. ...

Posted by Blue1moon on Thursday, April 07 @ 19:38:34 EDT (1061 reads)
(Read More... | 2801 bytes more | Comments? | My Story | Score: 0)

 Announcements: "The Prog Show" with DRS Dave Returns . . .

ArtFrom: DRS Dave

My new show is called "Just Because". To listen click here and press the "listen/ear" button.

So what is progressive music and what is DRS Records? Prog is the evolution of 60's pop and rock into a higher form of music recorded mostly in the UK during the early 70's. Here are the main aspects of prog.

Adding instruments to the standard rock band (organ, flute, saxophone, violin and orchestral arrangements).

Writing music in a more complex timing

Various band members playing lead at the same time

Double tracking instruments and vocals ...

Posted by Blue1moon on Saturday, January 29 @ 18:28:39 EST (1059 reads)
(Read More... | 1682 bytes more | Comments? | Announcements | Score: 0)

 Reviews: "The Streets Still Matter"

Artby: Eleanor J. Bader, t r u t h o u t | Book Review

Celebrate People's History: The Poster Book of Resistance and Revolution
Edited by Josh MacPhee, Foreword by Rebecca Solnit
The Feminist Press New York, 2010

The truism has it right. If you're not depressed or angry about the state of the world, you're not paying attention. A quick glance at the daily headlines is enough to have many of us wringing our hands in despair. Countless wars seem like they'll never end; social welfare programs are being slashed; the Tea Party is on the rise; ultraconservatives have picked up the mantle of feminism; and schoolyard bullies have pushed an escalating number of LGBTQ youth to commit suicide, to name just a few of the atrocities presently hitting home. Scary times, we tell each other as we try to muster the wherewithal for a meaningful fightback.

Enter Celebrate People's History, a stunning look at street art - usually in the form of two-color posters - that recognizes the countless men and women who, since time immemorial, have participated in political actions to challenge the status quo. Meant to be displayed publicly rather than in galleries, museums, or in private collections, the posters were created by an ad hoc group of more than 90 artists. For more than 12 years, these creative agitators have surreptitiously taken buckets of wheat paste and cheaply made drawings and affixed them to walls throughout the US. Along the way, they've educated viewers about dozens of rebellions, from the 1600s to the present. The posters - many of them visually spectacular – inspire a question: how can we use the audacious examples Celebrate People's History presents to kick-start a present-day movement that favors human needs over exploitation?...

Posted by Blue1moon on Monday, January 10 @ 13:25:50 EST (1245 reads)
(Read More... | 8093 bytes more | Comments? | Reviews | Score: 0)

 My Story: Come Wake Me Up

Artby: William Rivers Pitt, t r u t h o u t | Op-Ed

A poem I have loved a long time has been swirling in my head these last days, and I have been trying to figure out why. There may be no reason for it. If your brain is anything like mine, you have a Nonsense Channel that broadcasts 24/7/365. Sometimes, the signal is weak, a snatch of song or an advertisement jingle playing in the far corner of your mind. Other times, the signal is like a klaxon, and it doesn't have to make sense. Just the other day, and for no reason whatsoever, I had Arnold Schwarzenegger yelling "Get to the chopper!" in my head, and it wouldn't go away until I got the chance to use it in a joke. Someone said, "Let's get going," and I fired out the Arnold line, and everybody laughed, and the signal went away. So it goes, right?

The poem in my head has definitely been playing on the loud end of the spectrum. I memorized it many years ago, and have lately been whispering it to myself by rote:

Keep me from going to sleep too soon
Or if I go to sleep too soon
Come wake me up. Come any hour
Of night. Come whistling up the road.
Stomp on the porch. Bang on the door.
Make me get out of bed and come
And let you in and light a light.
Tell me the northern lights are on
And make me look. Or tell me clouds
Are doing something to the moon
They never did before, and show me.
See that I see. Talk to me till
I'm half as wide awake as you
And start to dress wondering why
I ever went to bed at all.
Tell me the walking is superb.
Not only tell me but persuade me.
You know I'm not too hard persuaded. ...

Posted by Blue1moon on Tuesday, October 05 @ 16:48:57 EDT (1154 reads)
(Read More... | 8938 bytes more | Comments? | My Story | Score: 0)

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