State of the Art

State of the art - that's what it's called.
It's in a mess these days.
Like water colors thrown together
by a less than childish hand.
As if some great demand were
made of us.

What used to be so glorious is
running down the walls in inky blobs.
They call it 'state of the art' these days.
Just hurry up and make another trade.
Depth of truth was never meant
to enter in - to this primed, cold, cruel
reality we still are forced to live in.

Don't take the time to stop and think
of all the innuendoes that your actions
might contain - just hurry on to that, the
next task contained upon your ever growing list.
Rushing stream to raping rapids -
always just before the crash.
Then the only thing that matters is your stash.

Excitement of the newest entertainment -
ended by another crisis - all too personal.
And then its intervention. Even that
has seldom struck a chord as true
as all the love we used to share
so freely and so openly.

They didn't see it coming till it struck.
Land mines were set among the spreading muck.
Mind-blowing tales that still bewail
the pure feeling of the pain they've
entered into - now for real.

The state of human art.
Where now - the heart...?
Where soulfulness can always enter in.
Spirits drifting in the wind. Lightning struck
and thunder entered further into us
than ever Mother Nature dared to send
through us before. Hey guys, when will
you realize you've really pissed her off...?

The sorrow and the pain, and then -
instead of facing their great fear of death -
yet once again the choice: the anger and
the rage - as another war descends to hurt
us all. The secrets of society no longer
find another way to just be kept.
We know that even those in power
wept at all the death brought
down, on that day of infamy -
the eleventh of September -
year - 2001.
 

And still, I have to call it as I see it.
Anger serves a purpose - but only when
we face it as our own. Concealed, it congeals
into the feelings of a hatred that our very human
nature can't conceal. And love itself cannot
exist in realms where hatred still abounds.
Prejudice and jealousy - these are the base
of all those hated seeds that breed so deep
within. Nip them in the bud, right now,
if ever you wish to achieve a better world.

I had a vision, long ago - of healing.
So sweet and so complete that I just had to
enter into it, complete. The moments built,
in ever-growing increments. Days to weeks
to all too many years.

So many tried to turn the tables on this grace
that somehow, I had come to earn. Their greed,
instead of need - over time, came to replace
the true love of this inspiration.
And yet I knew myself too well
to let it blow within the wind again.
And still I find that I must struggle on.
For yet again those visions of a healing
of the world are entering in.

For so long - has it been just you or I or they...?
Someone needs to do much more than pray.
They need to speak, in words that stream like
flowing violins - centered at the level of the heart.
There was a time I used to feel that way.
But oh, my soul, so many came
to bleed your healing - into industries and
enterprises - never really feeling love at all.

They speak of logic and of intellect - no more.
The heart, the soul - the feel of endless bliss
that only true love brings - was left within the mists
of all they didn't wish to see or know or mostly, feel.
Do I know pain...? Oh Lord, sweet Jesus Christ -
how is it that you never noticed all the pain you left
to all of us to heal without your presence...? Was it your
Mother who once bore that pain for you before she died?
Or Mary Margaret - who then thought to try find
your body after all their rage was spent on you...?

And how did you explain all this - unto your
Father God...? Long and long ago, you
re-ascended to the heaven that you always
knew to be your home. Your throne, and never
ending numbers of your angels welcomed you.
And it seems as if you just left us behind,
to deal with the feel of suffering that you
so quickly chose to exit from.

You claim your mother present - but tell me now in truth -
when was the last time that you ever really listened to
the wisdom of her heart...? You see, they tell me that I
have to start again. And Christ, you know all the amends
that I've accrued. And surely you must know
I've more than paid my dues by now.
What is it that you think that I might do
 with all the fear of terrorism in adults...? That hold their
power, sunk in all the doubts of loveless lives and all those
double standards of the ever growing alibis they live.

Remembering again - the feast of Cana. A marriage
even you felt a great need to just attend. You turned
the water into wine, and what, pray tell, the great effect
of that...? If not to loose the inhibitions that revealed
the many hearts in pain, that seldom chose to love at all
in their expression. Was it your own mother
bid that it be so..?. And you agreed.
Yet how distant you have grown from She or me.
Have you read the news of late, dear Jesus Christ...?

Countries, world over, that embrace enticing,
of mind-altering drugs.  Marijuana highs
that are consumed with too much joy;
and we can't forget the dire affects of after.
Warped, the minds and intellects
of those who choose to do too much of that.
Cocaine - that too, and so much more.
And what abuse - prescribed by the mind-altering
compositions - prescribed by doctors that once called
themselves the healers of us?

A society of legalized dope dealers. Chemists with
degrees attained while riding on a high. Strange,
and worse than only strange, the way our lives are
rearranged by that. Trust, they say - without a conscious
reason. We've been duped for too long by the waves
that chemistry created. There is little healing left within
the realms that they deem medical. Cling to life, no matter
any suffering that they insist you must endure -
to do no more than cling to yet another day
of all the same old suffering.

Commercialized and named legitimate,
the pain of tests that never came to prove
the worth of life. That's where we're at,
as a society these days. Add to that the building
of depressive attitudes - brought high into our grooves
last year, as autumn fell. That great pressure
has been "on" for all too long. Maniacal - financial
inconsistencies we're forced to come to bear.

Political, the bane. Please the crowd and need
to gain approval by so many other beings - just
to reach some ever-moving peak of yet some more.
It's astounding, how the truth of heart returns
to speak our deepest needs. State of the art,
it's been drawn into a chasm that must speak
of deeper needs.

To love - let's let love's history go on -
within these hearts that not so long ago,
beat harmony in us. This dream of loving true -
it is the only one that ever reached
into the meaning of it all...

? Michaelette ?

8/14/2002
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