Skip to main content

I write along a single line: I never get off it. I said that you were never to kill anyone, and I meant it.

                                                                                            —Kenneth Patchen

madness . . . .


madness . . . .

madness . . . .

madness . . . .

madness . . . .

After Trayvon Martin was killed, a little boy up in Boston wrote up a little sign, which he brought to his little class, and it said: "No More Hurting People."

And then in April of 2013 the Boston Marathon bombs went off, and that little boy was blown into little pieces.

People gathered them up, the little pieces, put them into a little box, and that's how they buried him.

How can we possibly continue to live.

How, can, we possibly, continue, to live.

How. Possibly. Continue. Live.

All I want is what you all want. What the little boy did want. What everybody wants. Animal, mineral, vegetable. Love. And affection.

What we all want is not to be hurting each other.

A man has two legs.
He’ll build a house—from cellar to rooftop, with his own hands.
He’ll put seeds in the ground.
He’ll watch the sun and the rain at work.
He’ll take a woman to bed.
He’ll find enough tenderness and love to get him through the day.
You’d think that man deserved a little something.
You’d think that man was worthy of a jot or two of sympathy and consideration.
You’d think that maybe someone would say,
Let’s just let him alone for a while, and see what he can do.

                                                                                            —Kenneth Patchen

We want to see how we might grow.

We pay no attention whatsoever to how the people who hurt people may have structured this world.

Don't you understand? I have arisen not from the dead but from the living. I am not a voice crying in the wilderness. There is no winter here. No dark. No despair. The lights are going on in my house. I shall not allow the President of the United States to enter here. There is no darkness anywhere. There are only sick little men who have turned away from the light. I have all my lights on. And it is my own face I see in the blazing windows of all the houses on earth.

                                                                                              —Kenneth Patchen

I see you.

Peekaboo.

The Rolling Stones were stupid young mouth-breathing motherfuckers who were permitted to ride high wild and fine Eros, but then, of unbelievable—but excusable—arrogance, decided they needed to also sniggle snuggle deep down into Thantaos.

From which they, naturally, cried; "Gimme Shelter."

The song they wrote several months before what it was about actually, in time, took place: the killing of Meredith Hunter, during their set, upon the stage, at Altamont.

Forcing them at last, to face the Real.

I opened my mouth to maybe say a bit of a prayer for them.
And it started to bleed again.

                                                                                          —Kenneth Patchen

A king-hell of a Thanatos tune, "Gimme Shelter," that nonetheless re-establishes the primacy of Eros. Because, in the after-come following Merry Clayton's perfect universal scream, the kisses outnumber the shots.

war
children
it's just a shot away
it's just a shot away
it's just a shot away
it's just a shot away
it's just a shot away

i said love
sister
it's just a kiss away
it's just a kiss away
it's just a kiss away
it's just a kiss away
it's just a kiss away
kiss away
kiss away
wa-ay

That's the way it is, here on this earth. Seven kisses, for every five gunshots. That's why we're still here. Eros trumps Thanatos. Every time. Seven to five.

The bullshit, videoed above with the apes, and Robin and the sheriff, and the WWII nutbombs, and the Iraq buffoons, and the Ukrainian nimrods—it's old and it's tired and—even when it pierces the heart—in the end it's just boring. Killing and killing and killing and killing and always there's a reason but never has there been a reason and never will there be. I'm not really sure anymore who's even being impressed. Surely no natural woman, or man. No one evolved wants anything like strutting onto the street to be killing. No one anymore wants guns and shields and fiery jelly. Shots—they're just over. Kissing is what it's about. Leave the fiery testosterone ball-swinging streets, people. Get real. Lay down the weapons. Wrap, instead, your arms around someone. That's all you've ever wanted. All you ever will want. You know you're not here to hate; to destroy. You're here to love. So get to it. Learn to love. Be love. Jump hedges first. You were only waiting . . . .

 . . . and so let it be written. So let it be done.


Originally posted to MINE on Sun May 04, 2014 at 07:01 AM PDT.

Also republished by Kitchen Table Kibitzing.

EMAIL TO A FRIEND X
Your Email has been sent.
You must add at least one tag to this diary before publishing it.

Add keywords that describe this diary. Separate multiple keywords with commas.
Tagging tips - Search For Tags - Browse For Tags

?

More Tagging tips:

A tag is a way to search for this diary. If someone is searching for "Barack Obama," is this a diary they'd be trying to find?

Use a person's full name, without any title. Senator Obama may become President Obama, and Michelle Obama might run for office.

If your diary covers an election or elected official, use election tags, which are generally the state abbreviation followed by the office. CA-01 is the first district House seat. CA-Sen covers both senate races. NY-GOV covers the New York governor's race.

Tags do not compound: that is, "education reform" is a completely different tag from "education". A tag like "reform" alone is probably not meaningful.

Consider if one or more of these tags fits your diary: Civil Rights, Community, Congress, Culture, Economy, Education, Elections, Energy, Environment, Health Care, International, Labor, Law, Media, Meta, National Security, Science, Transportation, or White House. If your diary is specific to a state, consider adding the state (California, Texas, etc). Keep in mind, though, that there are many wonderful and important diaries that don't fit in any of these tags. Don't worry if yours doesn't.

You can add a private note to this diary when hotlisting it:
Are you sure you want to remove this diary from your hotlist?
Are you sure you want to remove your recommendation? You can only recommend a diary once, so you will not be able to re-recommend it afterwards.
Rescue this diary, and add a note:
Are you sure you want to remove this diary from Rescue?
Choose where to republish this diary. The diary will be added to the queue for that group. Publish it from the queue to make it appear.

You must be a member of a group to use this feature.

Add a quick update to your diary without changing the diary itself:
Are you sure you want to remove this diary?
(The diary will be removed from the site and returned to your drafts for further editing.)
(The diary will be removed.)
Are you sure you want to save these changes to the published diary?

Comment Preferences

Subscribe or Donate to support Daily Kos.

Click here for the mobile view of the site