The Moral Ark

 

There's a moral arc in the Universe

There's a common center of decency

Injustice only illustrates right

There's always a candle in the night

 

In that eternal moment between moments,

When ultimate truth is revealed

Retribution walks the earth

Brought about by human folly

 

We have our choices to touch that arc

But we cannot change the way it bends.

Our choice is to stand on the side of justice

Or burn ourselves as justice flashes our way.

because "you shall reap what you sow!"

 

So efforts at injustice flash and burn

Men tell lies, and turn lies into myths

But justice comes and burns them away.

No lie can live forever,

Because lies were never alive.

And like a phoenix from the ashes truth is born anew.

And like gold separated from dross, the truth shines and does not corrode.

 

And our arc of justice is an ark for the righteous.

Carrying the righteous through waves of destruction.

Remember after the flood of destruction, a rainbow always shines.

We dig our own holes and then we fall into them.

But when the earthquake is over we either come again to stand tall.

Or we sleep peacefully waiting for the end of time.

Inspiration:

Dr. Martin Luther King & reference to him in an event yesterday.

http://www.open.salon.com/blog/arthur_howe/2009/01/18/the_arc_of_the_universe_is_long_but_it_bends_towards_justice

"I know you are asking today, "How long will it take?"....

"I come to say to you this afternoon, however difficult the moment, however frustrating the hour, it will not be long,"

because truth crushed to earth will rise again."

"How long? Not long, because no lie can live forever."

"How long? Not long, because you shall reap what you sow...."

"How long? Not long, because the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice."

The Salon Article author notes:

"Dr. King's words echo those of the 19th-century Unitarian minister Theodore Parker. In his 1853 sermon on "Justice and the Conscience," Parker declared:

The Salon Article then quotes, Theodore parker:

Wikipedia

http://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Theodore_Parker

"I do not pretend to understand the moral universe;"

"the arc is a long one, my eye reaches but little ways;"

"I cannot calculate the curve and complete the figure by the experience of sight;"

"I can divine it by conscience. And from what I see I am sure it bends towards justice."

And concludes

"In borrowing from Parker, Dr. King drew inspiration from a source that reaches back to our nation's birth."

More from NPR:

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=129609461

A Toxic House of Bigots (Poem)

Strange fruit from all this hate,

can't swim, or run out the gate...

The more we hate, the more we fail.

The more we fail, the harder to heal.

 

The harder we get the less we deal,

and the poorer we deal the more we fail.

So if we are to heal we must break the cycle of hate

& we must do it before its too late!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=98CxkS0vzB8

I Live pointing the way

I live in a world that's lost it's way.

I live at the end of one day

and the beginning of another

I live in a world, where brother lies to brother.

 

I live in a world of lost dreams,

where we wake up hearing our own screams.

A world of corruption

where people live who have forgotten how to sing.

We live in a world where dreams have died

yet still cry out in the night

tormenting their owners in the night

like lost ghosts lost in time.

 

I live in a world so confused

that the victims soon become the abused

where people confuse wrong with the right

and divine answers that are falsehoods

when the truth could be easily known

if they didn't perpetuate foolish behavior and suffering.

 

I live in a world of fear and delusion

where people seek happiness in wealth and illusion

Where greed destroys future and present

and people throw away the good without taking heed

of where their real value lies.

 

And I live and I dance and I sing.

celebrating life in internal freedom

I am one among millions of I's

I am I, unique and powerful in potential

And I know how things can be so I dance and I sing, pointing a way.

 

Christopher H. Holte 1981

When I pass

When I pass on,

I'll say goodbye,

pass the flag, pass the batton

And then simply die.

 

You may laugh,

you may cry,

you may do both

but when that moment comes

I just hope you think fondly of me,

And maybe even laugh

Chris 1990's, first recorded in 2001

Dreams -- August '81

To Hannya

Dreams, make the world grow warmer

when we're feeling cold

dreams keep us going

when our life feels tired and old

Dreams are the stuff of life

Isn't life itself a dream?

Dreams keep us smiling

When it seems we have no reason to

 

Dreams are like a child

with his parents standing by

There are dreams that are expectations

of what the future brings.

Dreams are like a young man

making his way in the world of things.

Recollections are an old man,

recalling his life as if a dream.

 

Dreams animate us, give us reason, let us fly.

Hold onto your dreams, with your feet on the ground.

because dreams give us courage,

lose our dreams and we die.

 

Christopher H. Holte, August 1981

If the Gods forsake me

Inspired by Marcus Aurelius

If the Gods foresake me

my country and my family

Then I pray I see the reason

and at least have some idea why.

 

If storms assail me

And I'm in a winter storm wearing summer clothes

then such must be my destiny

but that doesn't mean I shouldn't seek shelter.

 

If I am lonely

and deeply in love with you

and indeed my Karma is heavy

and you don't love me too.

Then too there must be some reason

and a cause or some lesson, maybe some long ago thing done wrong.

Maybe I can yet resolve if I change inside and grow strong.

 

If the Gods have abandoned me

and my heart is destined again to break

If I must suffer for your sake

Then I must apologize for the cause I made long ago.

 

Christopher H. Holte, 1981

Note: Marcus Aurelius wrote a similar poem long ago in his "Meditations"; "If the Gods have forsaken me" is a common fear and refrain among those who try to do the right thing or are engaged in struggle. Each of us have trials which we must pass through, sometimes blindly, or perish. During such times it seems that God or the Gods, or at least the love and support of God, has abandoned us. But in reality such is never the case, but rather we live in a world of causality where we are each tested by travails. With a powerful faith one summons the courage ("life force") to challenge such challenges. The true object of worship is the reflection of what we can be.

"If the Gods have forsaken me,

I and my family..." -- Marcus Aurelius

The night was vanguished for a moment

The night was vanquished for a moment.

A smile rose in his face and around his eyes.

It was like a clear day after a trail of rainy years.

It was like a spring day after a harsh and late winter.

 

He smiled and the smile creased his shriveled face.

It revealed him a handsome specimen of the human race.

He smiled for a moment in a kind of hope

that was the first time in years.

and then he shook your hand and gave himself away.

 

Do you wonder that the night was vanguished?

It was for him.

For it never again held such power

nor left him so impotent in it's face.

 

Christopher H. Holte, January 1983

Always Too Dark

Always the sky seemed too dark late at night for her,

when the moon glinted in her dark eyes,

She seemed to become a shadow in his mind,

unreal, like a vampire or a dream.

 

She smiled, but all he could see was his latest conquest,

images of a smile;

He took her hand and tried to lead her down a dead end road.

She took it back and they walked in silence.

 

He took her to his car and they got in

He took her home and she let him kiss her on the cheek

He went home dreaming of vampires and the goddess of snakes.

Always the sky seemed too dark in his dreams,

And he wondered at the delusion.

Written January 1983, CH Holte

Dirt Bags

You hear the TV brutes spit out "dirt bags"

As they blow away some human "fags".

It sounds all brave, and glorious and macho

When heads fly off and blood squirts everywhere.

And maybe that term is ultimately fair

When they stick us in the ground, by then

We have become essentially "dirt bags."

 

I don't understand the attraction.

Of bodies slamming together in violent compaction.

What is the attraction to pain, and hurt and fear,

Of those in comfortable chair sitting in the rear?

Reality is these things are thuggish, brutal terror

And while still alive the term dirt bag is usually in error

The TV brutes may fill fantasies of Cowboy Bob

For folks in front of a TV fat like blobs

But they can't look their murder victims in the eye

Until just before they die.

I don't get the need for this porn.

 

Think about the definition of terror and then,

Wonder who is being the terrorist, and when.

Is it the brute with a bomb-belt under his suite

Or is it also the one with a joystick in his hand,

Blowing up wedding parties full of "dirt bags?"

The definition of purpose of shock and awe is terrorism.

Whatever BS reason they give as their "ism"

The value of wars and blows and body bags, is fear.

And the first step to stopping this dear friends,

Is to recognize those "dirt bags" could be people we love.

And we dirt bags should be better than this.

Christopher H. Holte

When they stick us in the ground. Even if we are in a box instead of a bag we are essentially "dirt bags."

Predicting 9/11 -- Kali Marching

I could feel something wrong. Something very wrong coming. And I went to Manhatten with my wife in 2000, because it was the place we loved. We went into the Twin Towers and passed through their magnificence. And I wrote the poem "The Archetypes come alive in Manhattan" while we were there and posted it in a yahoogroup I was a member of. Nobody understood what I was saying as usual. But there is something predictive in it. The third stanza goes:

These archetypes all dance their steps,

all dance in wild abandon!

In the minds of drunken revellers,

drunk with anger, drunk with hate,

marching down Broadway,

stopping at Harald Square.

Climbing the millenia tower,

on top of a giant skyscraper!

An angry Ape climbs the Empire State,

and Godzilla parades his hate!

And then both fall to their fate!

Less than 9 months later a large part of that cataclysmic vision came true. I'm gathering stanzas from this long poem and each one astounds me.

Full Poem: http://holtesthoughts.blogspot.com/2014/08/the-archetypes-come-alive-in-manhatten.html

More Recent:

http://holtesthoughts.blogspot.com/2014/08/kali-marching-in-palestine.html

The Archetypes come alive in Manhatten

The Archetypes come alive like a great beehive,

out of the sky, all the sky kings dive!

Out of the ground, demons ride black steeds!

Out of the earth, ghosts raise up their heads,

Shake off the lethargy of years of being dead,

and march into town instead.

 

The Archetypes come alive, one by one, two by two,

Fat happy Sun kings, fawning, evil Richeliu,

Happy, gay, Three Musketeers, dueling D'Artanion too!

And cowboys duel with Musketeers,

while Indians brawl with Vikings!

And sea battles soon ensue,

between dragon ships, and triremes,

Treasure Ships and Pirates!

Black beard lights candles on his face,

and Berserkers scream their bravery!

Three musicians march in step,

celibrating their freedom!

While good priests meditate;

evil priests fornicate;

and everyone acts with wild abandon,

the fantasies of their soul.

Wielding a sword at illusions,

that seem to only get stronger,

While chiding others for delusions,

that are so plainly false!

 

These archetypes all dance their steps,

all dance in wild abandon!

In the minds of drunken revellers,

drunk with anger, drunk with hate,

marching down Broadway,

stopping at Harald Square.

Climbing the millenia tower,

on top of a giant skyscraper!

An angry Ape climbs the Empire State,

and Godzilla parades his hate!

And then both fall to their fate!

 

The archetypes come alive

and war like Devas and Ashuras!

While the real villains of these places,

gnash their teeth and hide their faces,

creating unleashed archetypes!

Calling "Peace" but unleashing war!

Calling "brotherhood" but disdaining love;

loving only their archetypes!

The police cannot leash them,

their own are loose!

And these archetypes dance together,

while their owners cry in delusion:

 

"You believe a lie, I utter truth!"

 

Their owners cry in unison:

 

"Your archetype is a monster,

and mine a world taming hero!"

"No yours is the monster,

and mine the hero!

Oh look here,

is that a child our heroes just crushed?"

 

"IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT! THIS DELUSION!"

Pointing fingers, three aimed at the breast!

"It's all my fault! This delusion!"

Without understanding why,

this too is a lie.

Do you know the causal law?

  Chris

Christopher H. Holte written December 27 2000

https://groups.yahoo.com/neo/groups/BuddhistLampoon/conversations/messages/189

Kali Marching in Palestine

After the angry men played their video games from far away.

After they launched their bombs and took lives away.

After they paused from the adrenaline highs to look at what they wrought

Do the ghosts of the children slain haunt them?

Do they sleep well at night dreaming of the children they killed?

Do wives and grandchildren come to visit to chide them in their sleep?

Do they tell their loved ones, they killed vermin spawn before they could grow up?

Or do they realize they did an evil thing for evil masters?

If they don't have nightmares, I have nightmares enough, myself.

The source for zombie movies, lies in the dread from the visits of the dead, that come to me in my sleep.

They don't speak Arabic or Hebrew, they talk to me in my dreams.

And I try to comfort them in their dying. Because I can hear eternal screams.

They don't suffer as much. Comes one touch of peace, and they smile and go back to keep.

The pain for them is over, in this world's eternal wakeless sleep

It's their families and killers who wake up, sweating in the night.

And the only thing that will put the dead to peace, is when the living put things to right!

Kali is marching, marching in her glee!

Goddess or demoness, four arms, maniacle smile and swords in each hand.

She lives in these so called monotheists, and leads them to their slaughter.

Her face maniacal with joy, at the insanity of stupid humans.

You can't tell me these men are anything, but destined for their doom.

If there is a loving God, he's turning his other eye.

The mood of awful disaster, the sword that smites friend and foe.

Men who visit pain and hatred, are destined to fall below.

One day peace will come. Sweet, and quiet and calm.

That is outside human control, one way or another.

Peace can look like a garden, or it can look like an empty wasteland.

It can involve children smiling, stepping into the light.

Or millions of unburied corpses, rotting in the night.

Christopher H. Holte

A Vision of Angels waging Peace

I have a vision of Angels waging Peace,
flying high above the hate and fighting of hate and fear
Blowing the mighty Shofar from high above, heard with a mighty cheer!
Sending out a blast of Justice, mercy, forgiveness and love
instead of attacking heedlessly the insane humans below.
They blow a horn that opens doors, and walls fall.

Yes, my vision is of a mighty army, so powerful and confident,
It needs no guns, missiles or bombs to attack.
Instead the angels come in in a line to circle and dance!
and blow the horn of second chances!
Angels Bringing bread and honey, food, clothing and money.
filling up carts and vendor stands with overflowing goods
Instead of bulldozing houses, building up new roads!
And paying people to pursue the ways of peace, instead of war!

In my vision, trains run from Turkey to Medina and Mosul, Baghdad an Kabul, and other paths.
And the roads are filled with tourists and lovers, fearing only tourist traps.
Let everyone travel when and where willing! Let them live their lives in freedom, coming and going!
And let folks live in any town where they can make a living.
and be citizens of where they hang their coats.
Let us take away the power from the demagogues and profiteers.
And the liars who wear religious clothes.
And still we'll hear the bells and calls to prayer, all the louder.
Because those called go freely.

Christopher H. Holte

The Grinches Takes Washington

The GreenGrinch has a plan

After the Grinch failed to steal Christmas,

The King of Grinchdom was very upset with him,

He hadn’t stopped that infernal singing,

He hadn’t enslaved or dispossessed them,
Or put them to work in Grinchville factories

Or made them fight in Grinchine wars.

Instead he’d given them back all that well taken loot!
and acted very un Grinchlike, such an uppity snoot!

“We can’t have Grinches who act like Who’s

They might get liberal, they might laugh and smooze.

We can’t have who’s who don’t know their place,

To be poor and stupid and work for our race.”  

So indeed drummed him out of their society.

And gathered in their retreats to figure out a strategy.

He was quite content because his heart had become so big

He quite preferred Whoville

But the King of the Grinches didn’t know what to do.

Their king asked his council; “What will we do?”

WE still despise Christmas,

And Hanukah, and Ramadan,

And Marzipan, fruitcake, milkshakes, eggnog and fun.

WE still despise people getting together,
and quite enjoying the nasty weather.
Unless they are rich like Duke GreenGrinch.

And Duke GreenGrinch spoke up:

"Would that he were just acting, he had a very good plan.
Act nice and they went to sleep and he had it all there.
The key is that he made the mistake to actually care.

He dressed like Santa, and they bought the whole lie.
And didn’t look twice when he stole everything around.

Ah, I have an idea now how to make this all right!
An Army of Grinches to descend on the Capital!"

The GreenGrinch executes

So he went to his treasury and called all his guards,

And started investing in pork and lards,

Then called all his advisors,
and all of his youngest Grinch-lairds,
and he sent them to school to learn PR and business,
and he bought up schools, colleges and created institutions to schmooze

And with Grinches for teachers, he taught Who’s to be Grinches,
They learned about bottom lines, cost cutting and money,
and were taught that Christmas was quaint and quite funny.
And this thing called marketing made them pretend to love it.
While using it to sell soap, and guns and bombs.

And he bought all the newspapers and put Grinches in charge,
It wasn’t so hard, they flocked to his standard.

And he bought a thing called TV, and radio, and ambitious whovians.

He trained an army of Grinch lawyers to put poor whovians in jail,

And make sure this thing called justice would serve Grinches without any fail.

Then he assembled an army of Grinches to march on Washington,

Wearing tailored uniform suits, Grinch smiles, and beating little Grinch hearts,
They said “The Whovians are making war on Christmas” year after year,
until even the whovians believed it, in their irrational fear.

Now his army was ready, the plans were in place.
No need for a sleigh, the army had portfolios and briefs at the ready.

And they marched on Washington with abandon and glee,

They were going to save it from Christmas!

The Grinches were ready!

So they marched on the city and filled all it’s halls,

And stole all of it’s money, and painted all of it’s walls.

They still put up the lights and the carols and trees,

But the carols blazed out of boom boxes, recorded years ago,

And were sung by Grinches who rewrote the language!

You had Rancid Previousgrinch,

and his dog Baymore,

the Drunk prince of the House,

And Duke Greengrinch, all fat and smiling like a cat.

You had Rupert Grinchdock with his newspapers and radio,

And his army of Grinches marching in tow.

The Grinch Cantor was singing, Grinch Ryan leading the song.

GrinchConnell lead the singing and the Grinch press the chorus.

The music was Christmas, but the lyrics all were wrong:

“Deck the halls with balls and chains, fa la la la la la la la la

‘tis the season for whips and chains, falalalalalalala

Now yon carrion wants a job! Lob him out! In the snow, tra la la.

We serve our master King Greengrinch, fa la la la la, la la la.”

And their legions descended on Washington and thoroughly trashed the place.

Oh I wish there was a happy ending here, but there isn’t.

If you see them for what you are, you’ll soon be seeing double;

You see the Grinches are still in charge, and you and we are in trouble.

They stole Christmas again, and nobody noticed.

Happy Hanukah, merry Christmas, joyous Kwanza and a better new year, I hope.

Story References Doctor Sues’s book “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” rest is parody, pure fiction, and mostly my own imagination.

Too Light! Too Dark!

The After-Image too dark

Horror:

Is knowing you are losing a love

...and there is nothing you can do, but

go on pretending that life goes on

and you'll find your way on through

Grief:

is a tearing out from within which gushes a sea of tears

That flow and fall and ebb and flow

until the waters are dried and

there is no place left for them to go

Loss:

where we are left wandering in a dry salty land

where once there flowed a sea.

...And there is no love left for the bereft

Just an endlessly yawning cleft

Where once was a beating heart

There now is a hole

And where once there was pride and purpose

Just a keening soul

Too Bright! Too Dark!

And it is too bright

The afterimage too dark.

Don't feed the Bears

Don't feed the bears they say!

But I'll feed that bear anyway.

He's nice and sweet, and looks like a giant puppy.

Surely he'll appreciate food from this yuppy.

Don't feed on the humans they say!

But look at that fool walking my way.

Christopher H. holte

Bears Don't need Fishing Poles

Bears don't need no stinking poles,

they stick their paw inside wet holes,

and catch a fish with claws and paw,

and immediately chuck it in their maw.

"You humans, you stand there all silly and slow,

while the fish steal your bait and laugh and dance.

And you wear silly hats and swipe at gnats.

Just to get away from your wives and their spats."

"You think we are dumb,

but we have class and nerve

and can catch a fish no matter how it swerves.

We eat well and love the smell,

until you humans turn our rivers to hell."

Christopher H. Holte

PS: Thanks to Jerry E. Williams for telling me Lyle Stories my imagination can segue off.

Lyle the Lumbering Bear

Lyle the lumbering bear,

gave me quite a scare.

I'd taken my pole to the lake.

And was fishing for my dinner stake,

when Lyle comes out of the woods intent

On getting a meal from me for free.

I didn't mind if he caught some fish,

But I was afraid I might be his dish.

So I abandoned my pole,

and I ran for the house.

While lyle casually inspected my gear

and ate my lunch.

I didn't mind too much,

I had my pepper spray,

ready to shoot him

and I still have my skin.

Christopher H. Holte

Lyle and the Hunter

Along the mountain came the hunter,

gunning for ole Lyle.

He had his gun loaded and was so intent

on acquiring a new winter coat.

That as he walked along the path,

he hummed a song in his throat and smiled.

Ole lyle, he heard the hunter a mile away,

and thought to himself, "That hunter seems pretty gay."

"I Think I'll creep up behind him, and make his day."

The Hunter, he was intent, on getting himself a winter coat.

He walked through the woods, for hours and hours

Through pine needle filled galleys, and leafy Bowers,

The aspens swayed as he heard a sound,

and then he turned around.

Ole lyle, he'd heard the hunter a mile away,

and that poor hunter, never had a chance.

And as the fall progressed he danced around,

in his newly tanned suede coat.

Christopher H. Holte

Humans are Fallible

Humans are fallible.

Humans are subject to desires.

Our perception of causality is flawed.

And so we fall into corrupt mires.

That really is no excuse.

If people would wake up.

They'd see all around.

A world needlessly corrupt.

Doing the right thing is hard.

But not ever impossible to do.

There are guidelines and boundaries.

If we'd just learn to see through.

If we'd just learn to be,

If we'd just learn to respect.

We'd follow those boundaries.

where-ever we intersect.

And we can walk hand and hand,

and climb sharing ropes.

We can reach all our goals.

and share all our hopes.

Christopher H. Holte