The United States Is Now A Volumeocracy

kncali:

This person has some amazing and actually very valid points. It would be cool if more of us understood such things.

Originally posted on Edward Hotspur:

Volumeocracy

For years, I’ve noticed something about America – it’s no longer a democracy. Instead, it has become a volumeocracy.

What is a volumeocracy? Government by the loudest. But what does that mean? What are you, a moron? What’s with all the questions?

No, seriously, it means that whoever screams the loudest, or in non-audio situations, whoever gets the most coverage, ends up getting their way most often. Consider talk shows and pundit shows. All networks are guilty, but I’m pointing at Fox News. Someone like Bill O’Reilly will literally yell over the top of whoever he is interviewing. It’s almost as if he thinks he can scream at reality and get it to change.

And to a certain extent, he can. People can. Why? Partly because people in general are kind of stupid and lazy. They read a headline and fall right for it, and never go find things…

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Soul renewal

Looking upward into the burning ball
above me,
I cannot help but notice the
sky trails weaving an
X.
 
Marks the spot.
 
No matter the bitters we have been spitting,
when it comes down to it.
 
As the pushing and shoving
takes front and center
to the love,
pains and strains
lead to breaks.
 
My own breakage left me addled
and shook up.
The toils I gathered became
binding chains instead
of the
reign of love
I wished for.
 
So, I wake, feeling my soul renewed.
A freshness that reminds me
of grass with its early morning dew.
 
Letting go to let in
the light.
A thundering bolt of color
that is twisting around the coils
of my injured self.
Releasing the slashes of yesteryear.
 
Trusting the now clear voice of my
maker.
The Father who patiently waited
while around my universe I skated.
Crumbling bricks of misshapen masonry.
 
Built up better, stronger,
everlasting.
Shining with the flecks of a glittering
God head.
A new head of my household.
 
 

Blue.

Trying to capture the blue bird with a camera in the spindly tree with one flowered bud proved to be futile.

It has made me think once or thrice in the last hours since, that my love life was sorta similar.

Me equals the bluebird.

Sorta trapped in voice, caught up in a web that covered my hearts eye.

Searching for something so outside myself, I denied myself.

It comes with quite a jolt realizing I carried this torture for so long.

Pretending to  be strong. I wasn’t. Did I give everything I have?

Not quite, says a piece of my soul. It has been given back again.

Always resting.

In Gods hands.

Memories of my mother,

Moments of dot connecting.
             Life giving life.
Sometimes backwards in my journey of self-defence.
Odds have been fought against when are backs have been to the fence.

I looked for that flame most every day.
Hands weak, heart strong.
I have wondered often where this is coming from.

Honeysuckle wind swept thoughts crashing at times as the sea I do admire.
Perhaps it reminds of you and I.
Standing alone against demons of our own.

Those should be sent away with the tide,  white waters cleansing our souls.

Which door is it?

October of last year I went on a bit of a rampage and having a catch phrase that went like this:
            Fuck it, I’m Fifty.
Seems after having some years of shit residue, that was probably not the door I should have chosen to walk through.
A culmination of many I shouldn’t have made that particular choice in.
Regrets are few, more.
Whats done is done.

I had to learn to shut some doors and perhaps there are some memories better left suited in an armoire inside.

Turning the other cheek has always been my style so others wouldn’t see my trembling smile.

I wished to change that and came on much to strong.  When my soul knew what to do all along.

Just forgot to listen.

Although luckily, blessedly, as it has just been revealed to me, another door opened. This one putting some things in perspective.

My 3 year old gbaby girl and I were hangin out and speaking of Lola. Her daddy, my sons companion for close to 10 years. A red pit bull with the most soulful eyes.

My little angel looked across the backyard and spoke of a lovely white gazebo.  You could still see the white shining against the dark interior at this time of dusk. She told me, “Lola is in heaven, in the dark locked tower.”

This was some days ago when  she regaled me wirh more words of a bad guy over to the left which we fended off together.

But just this very day it dawned on me that of course it would seem to a child that heaven is indeed, a dark place. After all, once you go through heavens gate, we usually think we will never get to see our beloveds again.

This is not true.

The lights shine more brilliantly, just hovering around us.
You’ll catch glimpes of this precious and beautiful thing if you faithfully trust in God.

I know that much for fact.

I am here to still hear that door opening.

And perhaps it’s the moment for a new mantra, like thank
God.

A man called Justin

She was a diamond, rough, oh yes, but still so beautiful, inside and out.  She just needed the powerful help of souls related to her desires and needs in life.
She still has a lot to learn, forever we learn, she has heard somewhere.  Every day, every minute she exists, her main goal is to expand her very own unchartered territory. The MIND. The most intense piece of machinery ever invented.  The only thing that each of us have complete control over!
“Wonderful!” she says to herself.
If hers is going a little to fast for some that’s just fine.

She has decided today to go for every dream and fantasy.
For her, this is it.
No more mind disruptions. Disharmony is or has flowed to freely in her past life.
As of this very second she has freed herself of loves lost.
The love that only causes pain, which she knows is wrong.
You see, she had to pretend every little thing was okay but alas this was not so. To her every little thing was screwed up.
Since her birth, so obviously the wrong place and time. No, she takes that back. Everything has a reason my friend. She tries to remember those words especially.
There have been so many difficult, pleasurable, opposite, positives and negatives go on her life. She uses these though.

Do you see what she sees? Take a look now:

She saw the man, old and walking with the shuffled gait of his physical age.  He certainly got his way around. She watched his attempt up the dirty, broken up, street curb.
She was in her car. The light turned green just at the moment that the guy in gray stuck his black hand out to hitch a ride.
She has not, for reasons of pure selfishness ( or is it self-love?) picked up a hitchhiker for a whole lotta years. She was 16 or so the last time.

Yet, she was compelled to stop.  She has no fear at this moment, she can feel his energy from across the way. So, stop she does, stopped to pluck up the poor soul and transplant him to another space in his universe.

She noticed right off, the first glance at his beaten face caused a video to switch on. She felt his sorrows, his joys.

Justin was the name on the key chain, secured on the zipper of his worn wind breaker.  She wonders if he is warm enough.  Warm, body and soul.  She hopes he will stay warm forever.

Together, they drive up the road.  Listening to some fantastic rhythm and blues tunes. Music is a big part of everyone’s life.  She knows this as he sings to her a little melody.  The words sounding so sweet and charming. 

She has tears in her eyes.  He to she “Let me come with you, I will follow your star.” She cries again.  He speaks her feeling so well.

He will always stay near.  She tells him this.  He and she are very smiley when she drops him off in his new space.

Can she remember the words he sang to her?  Someday, some minute they will come back.  Then again, she can breathe easier, knowing she made another smile.

One day soon, she will open her mouth and the words, His words, will come rolling right off her tongue!!  Then she can remember some sweet, sweet smiles from the man who called himself Justin.

 The petty pieces tha get twisted so.
Cause failure and breakdown,
it reduces the flow.

Struggles taking us the bad way.
It’s already so hard,
Following our right directions.
Sooner than we think, we all pay.

Changing our destinies, already laid down.
Do we have the right to cause such destruction?
Should we not lift ourselves to the plane that
can save, and leave behind the black instruction?

There’s a place for each and all,
to feel the ultimate peace.
Replace the hurt and sorrow.
Just let it go.
Let it cease.

Reducing the flow