Dear realness people. I remember I was at Lancaster state prison and there was briefly a drama class there. For an assignment the actor/director that came had us do a writing thing about a different world. That was some years ago. This exercise had been sitting up colleting dust. So I´ll share it now:
STEP A NEW WORLD OF CHANGE
Why must there be suffering and sorrow for the balance based in happiness, for an eternity. Could anyone grow tired of balance? Why can´t we live our lives, our dreams each being in their own niche? Where loneliness and despair are like far away planets, a billion light years from here. Where like sunflowers love, peace , grace, kindness and togetherness bloom. Why must this world be a dream? A utopia? An Atlantis, a mere puff of smoke? Why must there be so much suffering and sorrow in any world to grow, to be. O, why, why must a lovely wildflower, a dream wither and go away, when the sunflowers shines.
The world of change is all of that from sadness to happiness. This world is all that is, was and will be. It´s also nothing. Like an atom when you break it down. It´s here, there and no where. A star shining and going backwards into itself. This world does not have loneliness but aloneness. No heavens or hells but being. A world where flowers bloom without retribution. Where dreams bead off blades of grass under a death valley sun, yet never dies.
No Goddesses, Gods or Big Bangs or any kind of bangs are welcome in this world. Here those wings are left at the gate of change. No perfect people are welcome but perfect beings are okay.
Words that ment one thing in the other worlds in this world of transformation can mean something new, now, old or all three at the same time. A cacon in this world does not mean you will find a butterfly or a moth. Thoughts in this world of change can be the most powerful. Yet thoughts of selfishness, shame and of I´s are like having boiling sores on your skin. IN the world of change you must do something new each day other wise you´ll get left behind. Each day is a step away from yesterday. If you did not do anything new it is like being on an empty stage with no actors, no audience or stage crew. Nothing, all is blank like a smile when there is no one around to see it. To get death and color you must step a new. You can not stand on the riverbank in one hundred degree heat afraid to dip in the cold waters. Just because there are dead bodies of all kind on that side of the mountains. Still you must go to the top and see what is on the other side. Where there are no right or wrong, no good or evil, no judgments, and no should and should not. To get left behind, having missed a step, you get caught up in a loop. Where you may or may not repeat the past. You are now in the world of change.
If you have any sense about you´s, you will know not to stand still. The mountains over there were purple yesterday to go with the purple threes, stars and clouds. Everything was brandy colored the day before that. Who knows how many colors one never sees in a rainbow
Realness people I know that was a goofy little text, but something different. Hopefully there is some wisdom in it.
PRISON DAY
I got up this morning and ate some tasteless powdered eggs and there was a heard apple for a change. Drunk my coffee and then went to work. I sat outside the art room and fed my bird friends, waiting for poetry class we were to have guests today. Guest poets along with KVMR Radio. First yard was out, something was in the air. It seemed everyone, warders included knew something was to happen.
All the Crips and Bloods were let off lockdown today. The warders had been letting off lockdown in phases since the fight Bloods and Crips had a couple of months ago. This morning was the final phase and the last of the Bloods and Crips were let off lockdown. Yard went on for about an hour. Crips in their area, Bloods in theirs. Everyone else in their area and places, who were not Crips and Bloods. Then BOOM it happened. Bloods and Crips were fighting. The speaker announced “Down on the yard!” Teargas was everywhere. Block guns were firing from gun towers. Everyone who were not a part of the Bloods/Crips mix where down on the ground. The fight didn´t last long. A couple of cats were taken out on stretchers. The new tear gas warders use burns the skin and torches the eyes blinding you. One cannot continue to fight trough the burning flames. This new teargas in no joke.
In the old days combatants could fight through the fumes causes more harm to each other, but not with this new gas. It is humbling! Everyone for the moment is back on lockdown.
So now I´ll have to go to my food stash of sardines, soups and crackers more heavily. I brought back books to read from arts room library. I have my newsletters and poems to work on. So I am cool. Who knows perhaps the warders will do the proper thing and let those not involved off the lockdown. Because the warders knew what was what from the gate. I will not be waiting. I´ll turn my program into a lockdown program. Growing and glowing the Peace G way! Light, love, understanding with realness boundless realness energy.
WRITING CLASS
We were to have poetry workshop today, but the riot happened. So I´ll do my own private workshop with myself. Perhaps I´ll get some writing ideas from someone in the mail today. I know some one is writing some realness prose somewhere. Some where poetry and creative writing groups are going down. Some where poets and writers are writing in controlled madness breaking down walls of content and hypocrisy—speaking realness and exposing the unreal.
Our book club met and we had our discussion on the book “A good earth” by Pearl Buck. I am not knocking any ones culture but I said it was not cool to bind little girls feet, and a guy in the class said it´s a culture thing—the binding of a little girls feet of China. In Africa the mutilation of young girls private parts is a cultural thing! Slavery in America was a cultural thing and the white slave owners sending the sons and male friends out into the slave quarters to rape young black girls was a cultural thing. Lynching was a cultural in America. Hitler in Germany was a cultural thing.
There is always room for improvement in culture or anything else. Again, some cultural things are just not cool. Castrating a girls private parts , binding a girls feet, slavery and lynching, rape and incest are not cool. I do not care who´s culture it is! It can be moon or saturn culture or some culture in another galaxy! It´s not cool. There are plenty of good cultural things that does not injure anyone! But we must keep it real. At least the Peace G will!!
It´s this cultural thing where men are not suppose to cry. When sincere tears out of joy or a heart felt feeling is not a weakness but a strength. Realness tears can cleanse and free the heart and soul forever or for the moment. Bringing forth tremendous growth and expression of realness. There is nothing cool or great about closing your heart and never experiencing it. Allowing your heart the shed rain from your eyes prompting seeds to grow out of the dust in your life. If cats truly felt what they were thinking (government gangsters as well as street, forest or jungle gangsters) a lot of the violence and the madness would not be happening in the world. If cats truly felt their hearts and souls . Tears are sometimes silent words of the heart. Tears out realness is always cool!
STAY REAL SECTION
The CD is out but Stefan Säfsten who did the music CD is now here in America promoting it and will not be back home in Sweden for a couple of weeks. So I´ll post his address or the website for you to order “Frihet för de fängslade” or in English “Freedom for the prisoners”. I will post Stefan´s website in the next newsletter. I will have spoken of Stefan in person. Anyways on June 5, 2005 the CD was released in Sweden. I´ll close this stay real section with some poem thoughts on peace! Remember to keep your heart full of peace, love and realness.
No we are not going
to make peace
we are not going
to make war
We are not going
to gasp hands
as if we care—
but walk adjacent to one another
A grizzly bear
passing a mountain lion
a wolf pack on this
side of the hills
and another on the other side
No we are not going
to pretend like we are
brothers or even friends
We are not going
to make peace.
We are just not going to make war
Just a tiger passing
A lion sometimes a far
BIRD STUFF
Sitting outside the art room watching and listening to going on´s around me, resting the words that want to come out, for a moment. One side of walkway multi colored Christians play Christian music. Music they attribute to a God.
On the other side of the walkway a Satanist and knotz plat satan music, music they attribute to the devil. A black bird mom and dad dart in to pick up bread crumbs to take back to it´s nest. Tiny black ants drag cookie bits near the crack in the side walk. Where their hole is.
The tunes played canceling out each other. In the chain linked fence between me, the birds, the music and ants tiny baby spiders colonize each diamond shaped chain link of fence. Silky threads glistering sunlight.
CLOSING THOUGHTS
May all that is real be yours! Real thoughts, real rainbows , real dreams, real smiles, real hugs and hellos. Never let anyone be you in prison, school or any country, never let any one imprison your hopes and dreams. Never let anyone or government system or any system imprison who you are--never let them imprison your heart and soul!
I know it might seem strange to someone to sit and watch raindrops fill up or soak a sidewalk or wait for ants to come out again. But what else is there really to do, that is any different?
The baby spiders have moved out of the little diamond shaped chain linked spaces in the fences, well not all of them. Some must have known the rain was coming except the one I am looking at blowing, vibrating on one silk thread between one of the chain links.
The rain is coming down harder now and touching me. One ant slapped by a raindrop struggle to make it home. To go home what a dream. Keep it real people! Blessings to you all!
Peace G
/Spoon
