Smoketown Cats

The Cats in Smoketown love to cat around.

Though if you make the right sounds

they'll eventually come around.

 

Smoketown cats fight and play.

They wander and they stray.

And then when they've been up all night,

they sleep all day.

 

You don't own a Smoketown cat.

It owns you.

And if you think you own your house.

Odds are your cat thinks it has first dibs.

 

Smoketown Cats tolerate you,

depending on what you do.

As long as you give them food and water.

And attention!

When they demand it!

They will let you pet them.

 

If your Smoketown cat has wandered away.

That is just it going its way.

A Cat has a territory, but it must patrol.

A Smoketown Cat has to have a home,

But it has to explore, it has to roam.

It might make you angry.

It ought to make you pray.

That it is catting around somewhere safely.

And that he makes it home.

 

A Smoketown cat knows where to go.

And will return when it wants to.

If you have a smoketown cat.

And it wanders away,

It will probably come back

If nothing else for a kitty snack.

and someone to scratch its back.

And ease its anxiety

so it can nap in peace.

 

Chris Holte (Note Smoketown is the real name of Brunswick, Md)

Pyramids of fear cannot withstand the winds that blow

It's an event if you are ready,

a disaster if you are not.

You are never really ready enough,

So you deal with what you've got.

 

Japan gets typhoons

Here they call them hurricanes.

Tornadoes, direcho's, storms

They are a cost of living on land and breathing air.

 

Anything built can decay and fail.

Man-made disasters result from man.

We have to find a way to reach the arrogant.

Who stand astride pyramids held up by people

Who are oppressed and full of fear.

 

So hear the words of the Lord of Time

Those who rule with fear commit an awful crime.

That dooms them like some ancient pharaoh

Pyramids built of fear cannot withstand the winds that blow

 

Channeled by Christopher H. Holte

Lies Have Wings

Lies have wings.

But truth is a tortoise

Ever chasing the rumors let loose by the loose.

And those who would fight lies

seem armed with spitballs and rubber bands.

As much as I've come to understand.

Poisonous myths poison us all

 

Yet old lies become legends

Our story tellers take lies and fashion myths and parables.

If horses could fly, and no one would die,

then the entertainment would be harmless and free

But the cost of grown people telling lies

is too much for me.

Christopher H. Holte

Inherited Delusion

Inherited delusion,

Children mindlessly duking it out in front of me.

Parent's delusion animating a circular conversation....

spoken with tears and fists.

 

What an ugly fight,

But somewhere there is light

And maybe there is fertile soil

Surviving all that dark oil.

 

The father lost his fight.

He wandered away in defeat

and sleeps in an unmarked grave.

 

The Mother lost her fight.

She drowned her pain in poppy oil and alcohol

and now she sleeps alone.

 

But their ghosts possess their children in the night!

 

Somewhere there is light

Some kind of flower is growing in the night.

Ready to warm the day.

 

Who would think that you can beat someone you love?

Or label them with poison and save them?

But a person possessed?

 

Monkey see, monkey say,

our children do what they saw their parents play

And these sad children are acting that way.

Echoing parents, grandparents, present and ancient wars.

And a sad reenactment of hate.

 

Break that spell

Let's talk about our feelings

Without ever saying an unkind word

Or touching without permission.

Let's do what our parents couldn't do

And help these ghosts step into the light.

 

Christopher H. Holte, 8/16/2016

A Child's Universe

The Universe narrows to you and me.

My fathers eyes are all I see.

I orbit around his voices sound.

and all is right with the world….

 

A cave of warmth and strength.

A circle that narrows and expands.

My world a warm place safe from cold.

My fears can calm and subside.

 

In his Arms so strong and brave:

Refuge from pain and fears,

he dabs a cloth upon my tears,

and heals my sense of time.

This version is for my Dad, whose Birthday is August 19 1933

Original: http://fraughtwithperil.com/cholte/2012/02/27/a-childs-universe/

Economic, Democratic Subsidiarity and local democracy

Greece in 2015, Puerto Rico Now, What to do?

Almost a year ago I blogged a series on the Eurozone and what was happening to the Greeks and what that means for us:

"The privateers give a Broadside to the Greeks",

Privateering through Banks and the EuroZone and

Going Greek on the Whole World

And I showed that neo-liberalism is not Bill Clinton, us Democrats and Company. It is our Republican movement:

Neoliberalism versus Economic Policy that Really works

I want Unicorns

I want Unicorns, I said!

They gave me donkey's instead!

I must have Unicorns!

Donkeys are no fun!

Unicorns smell nice,

They dance above reality

and fly up into the clouds!

Donkeys stink. They get dirty totally

And you have to shovel up behind them!

Give me Unicorns instead!

 

I want unicorns!

Reality is smelly and messy!

People have to work together

and clean up each other's messes!

We have to fight real enemies

Who think they are Elephant's

Or Ganesh taken form on Earth!

I want Unicorns!

I don't want to have to convince anyone!

Do what I say or I'll walk away!

Darn Donkeys need a carrot,

Or they won't walk my way!

 

Christopher H. Holte, watching the Berners, 7/26/2016