The Life Review of Robin
Ludd / A Family Epic
By © Anton Vendamenc,
2019
T
|
he Life Review of Robin Ludd
An Epic By © Anton Vendamenc, 2019
CONTENT
1. How It began
2. The Story of Grandmother
3. The Story of Grandfather
4. Story of Father
5. A Few Pithies
6. With Wishing Wand in Hand
7. Loop de Loop
8. In Remembtance of Misha
9. Livonia’s Cubed Wonderland
10. A Kebab of lamb
11. The Last Scene
I
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n times past poets
expressed intimate feelings by summoning images from Nature. One of the better
known such examples comes from the German poet Goethe and his poem “ Kennst du
das Land https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZMe22tHvG4c ” (Do you know the land?) Today such bonds with nature
have vanished and have been replaced with the sensitivities of an urbanized homo-gentile
class. The shift away from wood and field was so sudden, unexpected, and
unexplainable, that the replacement became known as ‘confessional’ poetry’. One
reason for this curious name was that with Nature removed as reference, all
that was left was one’s inner emotional life, often sexual in nature. The
initiator of the transition was the American poet Walt Whitman https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Walt_Whitman. A hundred years later Whitman was succeeded by Robert Lowell, with
“Skunk Hour” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hSlcc2b02yc being the most often quoted poem of his. Surealy enough this poet’s brief
entanglement with the author of “Life Studies https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Life_Studies ” (at Boston University 1957-1958) has lingered to bring forth “The Life
Review of Robin Ludd”
Canto 1. How It Began
F
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irst
A definition
Of ’fuck’
As in fucked up
As if by some magic
By beings as if
Out of cyberspace
Then discarded
As mere meats
Or piece of fat
Or carion
”For the birds”
A phrase
Often used
For the useless
And superfluous
(Orphans
Children
Peasants
And other deplorables)
No one knows
What to do with
All the same
An expression
Of a stuborn
Sovereign
And resilient ‘I am’.
I
|
was fucked up for
The second time
So to speak
By
My
desperate
And
by war
Turned
Hysterical
And
mindless
Mother
When she
(Having taken
No interest
In my father’s
Family history)
Made love to
The young soldier
Of a German
Post Office troop
A leutnant who
of some priviledged German family
Too,
Was seeking to escape
the putrid winds
Of war and slaughter
As desperately she was.
The only escape
Without
Being shot
By crusading
Christian governments
(Of which
Hitler’s was one)
Or
Scared
To death
Military officers
Hung by
Fake elites
Was to forget war
And fuck
And for
the abandoned
Luddies*
*Luddies https://www.history.com/news/who-were-the-luddites --is an old name that preceeds and has now been replaced by the word ‘people’. It was last used in the English speaking world when so-called Luddites took on the English Lords and Nouveau riche. The word remains in use in the german language as ‘Leute’, in Russian as ‘liudi’ (люди), in Latvian as ‘ļaudis’ (lyaudis), and in such names as Ludwig, Ludis, possibly even in place names such as London (Londinium), Luzon, etc. Robin Ludd (a symbolic name for the last of England’s people of the wood) had his last name changed to ‘Hood’, meaning thief. Not surprisingly Robin dies at the hand of fake Christians https://www.awesomestories.com/asset/view/Robin-Hood-Death-at-the-Priory-Gatehouse .
To
‘Make love’
Such as the folk called
”Tearing the skin
Off the wireor off the hymen”
Then use the wire
To bruise, sext,
Masturbate
With porn
An entire millenium.
Fortunately
Fritz’s and Mary’s
Need for love
Fucked-up
No children
Only brusing
Memories.
That was
Seventy-five years
ago
In 1944
Toward the end
of
WW2.
The officer was young
My mother was young
I was a young boy
A child.
I saw
But did not
understand
what I saw.
Life in the
countryside
Herding cows
and sheep
had kept me
naive:
Standing in warm cow pie
In a frost covered medow
Warming my bare feet
Was my definition
Of reality.
At that time
I still believed
Father was alive
Would somehow
Survive
And return from
Astrakhan
Or Whereever.
I screamed for him
Tantrums of prayers
When in bed’
And alone.
No Buddha
Or Beatle
Could ever
Convince me
Life levitates
On fantasy or dream,
Or some witless
Latvian author’s
Need for notoriety.*
*There have been numerous, even government sponsored efforts
(story, book, and theatre) in PostSovietLatvia to eliminate the achievements and
contribution of my paternal grandfather and his forebears in the creation of this
country. Whether this is the policy of the CIA’s ‘renewed’ Latvian government,
or a death wish of half-dead community (the PostSoviet government has for all practical
purposes eliminated literature, criticism, intellect, and what used to be
called Latvian culture) rotting behind a Potemkin Village facade https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Potemkin_village
--only the future will
reveal fully.
I did not then
Know
That in his
youth
Father had been
A Cityzen*
*The poet uses the word ‘cityzen’
instead of ‘’itizen’ to more clearly indicate the difference of one from the
other.
Of tsarist
Russia
Which fact
Turned him
Into a robot
(A derivative human)
Of government,
(For which fact the tsar and his family, were shot)
It was a time
when no boy’s
father
Mine including
Was ever someone
who could
Have fucked me
up
For the fun of
it.
I did not
believe
I was of
A joke.
The joke was
Father was
Already dead
A bullet on
the 13th of April, 1942
Through his head
His pants full
of shit
Compliments of
Disentery
Brought in buckets
Of water
Which in one
swell swoop
Dumped the shit
Of Stalin’s
victims
Into the Volga
And drew drink
To slake the
thirst
Of all destined
to be boarded
At Astrakhan’s
Little Kremlin
Neither father
Nor I
Knew that
Our woman
In common
Left be
on a farm
In a God forsaken land
By the grace of God
(or Chance)
Was fucking
A stranger
To (perhaps)
Save her own
And their brood’s life.
Which is whyfore
This epic
Of a survivor
To old(86) age.
Mother’s shameful
Behavior
In front of the
household*
*The poet’s aunt Emma (the owner of the ‘Sokleni’ farm in
the Latvian countryside) was the youngest sister of the poet’s grandmother (who
was born on this very farm). The poet’s mother was concussed enough to forget
this fact, when she began her catastrophic affair before the eyes of the poet’s
father’s relatives. For them the humiliation was so deadly that in order not to
do more damage, aunt Emma closed her mouth, therewith ruling out the poet ever learning
the reasons for the poet’s grandfather’s remarrige.
Compelled
Her Wehrmacht
lover
To make place
On the Wehrmacht
truck
For her, me, and
my
Sister and
brother.
Even as I
(An
incomprehending
Witness)
That same
evening
With
anti-aircraft shells
Exploding in
the sky
Saw them meet
To do
Whatever it was
They did
From the other
end
Of the hay loft
Above the garage
Next to
The railway
tracks
Of the Koknese
Railway station.
By some
Thanks for ever be
And thanks
To fear induced caution
We escaped death.
That was on
August 20,
(Click on picture
with truck to enlarge. Examine closely.)
In my stead,
Max,
Our white gelding,
Yoked to the
wagon
Was killed
By a Soviet
plane
Strafing the
road.
Mother confessed
Her days
On her deathbed
Saying:
”I have forgiven God.”
For years thereafter
Above us
”a mute heaven stretched”
And ”a mute very mute
Field of flowers bloomed”
Lyrics from a poem by J. Peters
It took years
For me to grasp
That dead, too,
By the hand of
Her former husband’s
Second wife
Intrigue Galore
Was grandmother
Of course,
The murder
Is hearsay and
In hindsight
Etched in memory
By half forgot
Subtle murmurings
And muzz-muzzs
And muzz-muzzs
in the ears
Of a curious boy
With no one
Remaining to censor.
2 The Story of Grandmother
Only
the Sun
Knows
the day
Or
whyfors
Herr sturgeon fishermen
Forebears
Left or were taken
And were oared
Perhaps as
Prisoners of war
Slaves
Or fuck flesh
To the north
Of the Caspian Sea
The Volga delta
Where they whiled
in Astrakhan
Then were took
Up the Volga
Where they portaged
To the JaunavaDaugava
A River that flows
To the Baltic Sea
Through an
Ice-scoured land
Still rising
Out of the sea
A land now known
As Latvia
To LigaRiga
A Viking pirates’ nestRoma
Where they escaped
Or were sold
As tanners
To Gherman*
Skinners
From Sheepshead*Jelgava=
*’German’
is a name with a complex history, one that derives from ‘gher’, which means
sheep https://www.iwto.org/history-sheep and is related to ‘yurt’, which is a
transportable home of nomads cum herders in Central Asia. Indeed, this is whence
the German tribes that migrated to Turkey, then further West and occupied much
of Europe. For its part ‘yurt’ translates into ‘yehrs’, which means sheep in
Latvian; and ‘yarn’ in English. The current Latvian city of Jelgava may derive
from a composite word, re: Jehr+gher (or jehl)+galva (raw +head of lamb), which
may be visualized as a skinned head of lamb. Moreover, the name ‘gher’ stands
for fish or prawn ponds in Bangladesh https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mBvnbYgheDg, suggesting that the name once stood
for a pen for a flok of sheep in the steppes of Central Asia https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dq4bOmxKVQQ . Indeed, overgrazing may have contributed
to the erosion and desertification of Central Asia in the same manner it is presently
occurring in Spain.
Which was
But 30 miles south
Of Riga
Which is why
When the wind
Blew north
Riga
The blood besotted
Rome of Estland
Stank
As only
A poetic curse
Sent by a Kriev
The clubfoot priest*
Of Ludds*
*Grimm’s
Law https://www.britannica.com/topic/Grimms-law of consonant shifts enables one to translate
‘Kriev’ into ‘Clib’ (limp) and ‘Lud’ into ‘Rus’.
From
Old Prussian RomeRamava,
called
Kaliningrad today
Could make stink.
By pretending
To be charcoal burners
The Iranians broke
From their captors
And tracked
Up the CharcoalOgre River
Where it
Intersected
the
Charcoal road
that
led to
The oven’s mawrīkle
of Riga.
They changed
Their name
From Gorgan
To Jurjan
=Yoryan/from Iranian Yari Yan/warrior)
And hid
In a wood
As alive
With refugees
From Jersey*Jerusalem
*Jersey-Jersika
was the only kingdom ever on the land of what is now Latvia. It was destroyed about
1209 by Bishop Albert of Riga, who led the northeastern branch of the Albigensian
Crusade. Most Westerners know this Crusade as one against the Cathars of Occitan
https://www.google.com/search?client=firefox-b-d&q=albigensian+crusade , which is now part of southern France. The
poet contends that the Crusade was a coordinated attack against the remnants of
archChristianity in both southern and northern Europe of the time. This assumes
that Christianity existed in northeastern Europe for many years before it was
destroyed by Catholic Christianity of globalist oriented Holy Roman Empire https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/Category:Maps_of_the_territories_of_the_Holy_Roman_Empire#/media/File:HRR_1400.png led by Gherman bishops and princes. Interestingly,
when the poet’s forebears came to the region about 1729, they found there a
forest people who had a receptive ear for their message of a Kingdom led by King
John the Baptist. Unfortunately, the catholicized Lutherans soon instigated a
campaign of genocide https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BXL9VG6GoLU&t=950s
against them, and by today King John has been
killed by city Zionists as effectively as King David. The victims are no longer
only the Moravian Herrnhuters and their descendants,but the Latvian people of
countryside origin.
As Birnam wood was
Once come to
Dunsinane
It was here
Where the eternal wood
Makes memory of the
past
Unnecessary
They had
Dreams
Of blueberry
blossoms
Turning into
Blueberry tulips
And of
Turning
Riga into ash.
It was here
My grandmother
(nee
YuriYan)
Met her man.
My father
Born 1892
Was the second
Of five children.
In later years
Father’s life
Became entangled
With Astrakhan’s
Swamps,
sands
Again.
But
it was not to be
A
thousand year
Roundtrip to Iran.
It
ended
Where
the waters
Of
the Volga delta
Now bleach, wash
And his sin imbedded
YuriYan body
Feeds the sturgeon
Father’s descendants
Were spared
Learning about
The murder of his mother
Their grandmother
Though his own
Death
Is evidence
For the betrayal
More in a later footnote
Afoot.
His mother,
Whom his father
(Make-believing
himself
had
abandoned
For a dream of
Founding John’sland
(?Israel)
In Livonia.
Alas!
Rothschild was
Far ahead of him
And God lost
His bet with the Devil
Who was prepared
To wait endlessly
If need be.
Grandmother understood
That her God’s fool
Of a husband
Was outsmarting himself
By believing
God would
Cause Intrigue Galore*
In return
For him rescuing her
From marriage
To a failed actor
Would let him exploit
Her greediness
To turn herself into
A God’s daughter
All
the same,
His faith in Jesus
Actually John The Baptist
Gave grandfather
The will
To take on
A lamb’s courage
And play the fool.
So much for
The consequences
Of repression
Of a belief
That feared no poverty
Or death.
Father left it
For me
To shake the sieve
And discover
In its debtis
Second thoughts
And the
unthinkable.
What killed
grandmother?
Was it
Poison made of
The
Devil’s smirk
That stopped
Her heart
And ripped
Maiden heads
Cum bridal veils
Became crowns
Of roses
For generations
Off the heads of
Floundering orphans?
The murder created
Farflung
Unimaginable
Chaos
Misery
And confusion
Fate contracted
That
Intrigue, too
Died a martyr’s death
By which
She recovered
Her long lost
Maidenhead.
And let her remain
A Saint
To those who
Her will to murder
Benefacted.
No disputing
The Devil played his hand
Better than
Every
one was
Preoccupied
With saving
themselves
No one had time
To think
‘Heart attack’
Could spell ‘murder’.
As for the other question:
Did St. Intrigue kill
grandfather?
The evidence?
Time came
Grandfather wanted
To divorce Intrigue
Claiming
she
More than tickled
His sack
To make Jack jack
But was making
Latvia’s
President
Her gigolo*.
*A
book http://www.sievietespasaule.lv/literatura/gramatu_klubins/atsauksmes_par_mila_benjamina/ by a Latvian writer claims that
Intrigue enjoyed liaisons with policemen (?bondage, flagelation, BDSM?). If
true, this suggests sadomasochitic tendencies, fantasies, and sexual abuse in
childhood. Published in 2005, it was the most widely read book in 2006. While
the book’s author has done some rearch, it is is wanting. With complete absence
of research into the background of the poet’s grandfather (Intrigue’s 2nd
husband), foregoing any interviews with his direct descendantss, and completely
ignoring Latvia’s history before WW1. Indeed, the book is a fake story story
from beginning to end. Sadly, the book was published and sloshed into the
public arena with the support of the Kultural Fond Valsts Kultūrkapitāla
fonds of the state of Latvia. Be that’s it may, it tells much about the
state of history in this post Soviet Nato propped pseudo ‘Baltic’ nation.
Yet when he
Asked advice,
Of a Chief Justice
Of Latvia’s Supreme
Court*
(*M.
Chakste, who was the poet’s Godfather and son of Latvia’s first president, and
an opponent of K. Ulmanis)
He was told,
Jack:
“You are out
Of luck.
It was you who
To Mephistophele’s
delight
played yourself
Were enchanted
By Intrigue’s pussy
And by making her
Publisher,
Sheared yourself
Of your golden
fleece
A divorce will
Shear your family,
too.
It will take
Lawyers from South
Africa
And Canada
(1963 see CSC
Dossier9942)
To rescue them
From poverty.”
Grandfather
Faust died
With Gretchen
Stuffing his tail
In his mouth.
It was too late
To
return to the wood.
Faust
left it
For his grandson
To discover
How Stalin
Came to claim
the Devil’s receipt.
St. Intrigue
Wanted to flee
The Latviannarod
And go live
In her Swiss villa
And with her gigolo
In tow
Thus, she could
Become Latvia’s
Queen in exile.
When death threats
Issued by the na-ludds
(aka
na-rod)
Reached my father
By messengers
Still loyal to grandfather
He went to
Intrigue’s
Office
Hat in hand
And was told:
“Get lost
I have my stepson
George
To take care of.”
“But
are you not
Godmother
To my son?”
Father asked?
“Don’t be naïve!”
The Saint answered.
“Your mother
Would make me
(A well-reamed woman
at
twenty-four)
A virgin
For yet
Another eighteen years
(Such
were the divorce laws of the day).
“It is Creon
My sister’s son
Who I chose
To endow with
My benefice.
Creon
will have.
Yours
will not.
Your
mother go fuck
Ghosts in the wood
May
you all die there.
You still have
That piece of land
Have you not?
Where
On Midsummer’s Eve
Boys go
Count the haystacks
With ladders
Drawn up
Stand below
And whack off
listening
To cries of ecstasy
Up top?”
Such ridicule
Was prophecy
For a July day
When
five years later
Mother climbed
The ladder
And fucked me
And father
For the love
Of a soldier.
Grandmother
Silenced
By a murder
No one dared imagine
Looked
on
From
above
Incredulous
And sang hymns
To the glories
Of crumbs
On the grid
Of her grandson’s
Sieve of memories.*
*Intrigue Galore had two sisters. Both—like herself—were
ensconced in the world of theatre. Of the three sisters Intrigue had made the least
successful of choices, but with her body at 33 yo still in full bloom, and seeking
rescue from a ‘dead end’ actor husband, the deep end of the wardrobe room was
the perfect place to touch mens balls, when pretending, she was unable to find
their coat, she had them come find it for themselves. Grandfather, a newspaper
editor and budding playwright, came to visit Intrigue several times, because he
was seeking an outlet for “Miglā”/In A Fog, a How to do-it-for-yourself play,
he had written. The play argued how by giving up alcohol (a plague in Latvia to
this day), one could come to prosperity. The Saint working in the wardrobe of
Riga’s New Theatre (founded 1902) introduced grandfather, 42 years old at the
time, to the powers that be in the world of theatre. Unfortunately
grandfather’s play was too populist for Riga’s ghermanized Latvians and Latvians who
preferred Riga’s version of Wagner’s http://www.anothertravelguide.com/destinations/europe/latvia/riga/routes/routes/wagner_-_a_riga_legend , grand opera style and J. Rainis https://runa.lnb.lv/64418/ , a Latvian poet and playwright of the
Wagnerian ethos, suited them better. The gulf that separated rainis from
grandfather gives a precise illustration of the gulf that separated the RIGA
Latvians from those living in the countryside.
3 The Story of Grandfather
After
the Vikings
Known in Latvia as
Sveriges*Sverige=Swedes
=a
name which imeans ‘the importants’ from ‘svarīgie’ in Latviann
Failed
to subdue
*Ludd is an old name for ‘people’. Robin Hood, first most
likelt known as Robin Ludd, was someone the English royalty sought by all means to
eliminate from public memoy. Even so it was remembered by the Luddites https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Luddite .
English textile workers, when they rose against the English industrialist
class, which was trying to eliminte them by introducing mashinery. Aided by Grimm’s Law regarding
consonant pronunciation, the name remains imbedded in words and names no lobger
recognized as to their origin; for example
(L=R, J-D): Rude-Lude, Reddy=Luddy, etc.
Whether of Russian
Or Balt origin
The survivors
Of the Swed carnage
By slash, burn
And sweep method
The Ludds
Would not leave
The wood.*
*As the links (above) inform, the Elites of the Swedes
were masters at impoverishing the people under their control, then exploiting
the needy to further their conquests. The ‘forest Finns’ impoverished by
enslavement to the Elites wrought great damage not only to America, but
throughout Eurasia, and the Eastern Baltic. The culture of agriculture, a
culture that benefits the Elites mostly, emerged from what previously had been a
gatherer and gardening culture. Agticulture encouraged the devekopment of towns
and cities, slaughter of wild life, enslaved people to traders, ‘business’ men,
various types of lords, and, ultimately, to Capitalism. The Swedders made a
great cobtribution in the transformation of humankind into a beast (?Minotaur https://www.pablo-ruiz-picasso.net/work-2025.php ) of city fame. As
terrible as the immediateeffects
were, the worst part of it was an the spread of agriculture, an industry that
ultimately enslaved the countryside to the city. The ethnic cleansing https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gnadenhutten_massacre ,
like the masacre of the Gnadenhutten Christian Indians who had been converted
to the Chtistian faith by Moravian missionaries (many of whom came to America
after their repression in Livonia) is directly attributable to the cynical
Swedish elites.
Following the trauma wrought by the Swedes and their
Ghermanic allies, which injury had forced a former forest based civilization to
exploit the forest with a vengeance. One may argue that the ‘’forest Finns’
were a precursor form of Stalinism and may in fact have contributed to the latters later development. In any
case, the Balts of Livonia were hard to convince to leave their refuge of last
resort. It took the likes of the Moravians and other Hutterite https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hutterites influenced
Christians to persuade them to leave the forest and try to form their own
John’sland cum God’sland (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gotland note the
Moravian ‘coat of arms’). Unfortunately, they soon met with genocide-like
cleansing at the hands of Lutheran catholic theologians if not outright
slaughter as the Gnadenhutten Indians in Ohio, America.Today’s Latvian
government not only fails to acknowledge that future generations built on this
pietist foundation and that the sovereign state of Latvia (founded in 1918 and
betrayed by NATO installed post Soviet provincil government in 2014), but cynically
does ALL it can to deny its histoty altogether.
The governess
Or whore of WolmarValmiera
Magdalena von Halert
(A descenfant of
And sympathizer with
The Livonian forest people)
Elevated by
Fortunes of war
To the post
Of Generalin
By her sister in trade
Summoned
The descendants
Of martyred
Ludd Huss
From Herrnhut https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Herrnhut
(Where they
whiled
Unemployed
And waiting
For some such
Summons)
To come and
Herald
The survivors
Of Jerusalemaka
Jersika
Escaped
In the woods
of forgotten
and
Endlesly
Raped-over Livonia
Grandfather’s forebears
Were among
The Moravian
Robin Hoods
And Gosts
Who
(By resolving
Not to fear death
And denying
Themselves rank)
Came with
Made of birchbark
And rhubarb stems
to share
In the labors
Of the Latvian Ludds
And revive
Prehistoric Chistianity
Denied them
Since the Crusade
Against Jersika.
The story of
King Ludd
Riding a donkey c
And coming
To watch
Himself put to death
Lured
The forest Ludds
To come into the open.
Unfortunatey,
Who had authorized
The incineration of Basil
The Bogomil Physician1118
had many followers
all who proclaimed
Self-sacrifice to be
Suicide.
The likes of Macron
encouraged
arhitects
To replace the
roof
Of Notre Dame
With a tourist
attraction
An open-air highrise
Swimming pool.
Kings, Princes,
and Lords
Proved the
Peace
Of Westphalia1648
A cynic’s
dream.
Of course
The forest
Ludds
Did not know
How deep the
conceit
Of those who
claimed
To have
discovered
The poor:
Unless dead of
Starvation
The forest
Never knew them
Nature never
Apologizes
For its ways.
But the racoons
and skunks
Of urbania and
the city
Forced Aristotle
To discover
‘democracy’
Whence
Like Tarot
which faked up
Ladies
No longer fit to
be
President
of America
Read to the
Deplorably
honest.
The forest
Ludds
Had never heard
of
the 530 year1118-1648
Struggle of the
Elites
For a sovereign
status
For themselves
Which they
Achieved
In Wetphalia
Where they
secured
For themselves
Sovereignty de facto.
Following
Westphalia
The Elites
Controled
The Ludds
By de jure means alone.
Impressed by
One Gusts* Benjamins1766-1829
A forebear of
this poet
Born to
Name unknown
*the name ‘Gusts’—though assumed to
derive from Gustav (a Swedish king), is more likely derived from ‘Gost’ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hutterites#/media/File:Hutterite_migrations_in_Europe.png a title for a Bogomil or Cathar clerics in Bosnia
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gost_Radin ; a
name which was—as so many names of prehistoric Christianity—vandalized and edited
by Catholic monks in an effort to denigrate historical antecedents and impose
on future generations their own version of histoty. In effect: ‘Gost’ is now
commonly spelled ‘ghost’. The name, however, retains its earlier spiritual
maning in German, where it is spelled ‘Geist’, meaning Spirit.
Passions of the
Ludds
Violently
repressed
Were with great
passion
Reborn.
A new nation
”Gotland”
Dievzemihte
Was the goal of
The liberated
Ludds
Of the wood.
But the Romanov
Catholics kings
of Russia
Would not have
it.
Caholic and Lutheran
clergy
Complained to
The Romanov
Tsarina
And soon
A new war of
religions
Began (1743+)
(Russia was not a signatory of the Westphalia Prace Treaty).
The Ludds of Herrnhut
Were called
Populist rabble
And terorists.
The secular
state
Of the 18th
century
Unloosed acts
of
Religious
violence
Aka ’pogroms’*
*The poet submits that pogroms were directed not only
against Jews but also the Moravians. In spite of the Holocost, the Jews have
survived, but not the Moravians—at least not to any significant extent.
Leaving these
Uninvestigated
As a matter of
convenience
To those in
chargeof
De jure powers.
Great-grandfather’s
inn
Was put to fire1860
And grandfather
Born (1860)
Still in swaddling clothes
Watched the blaze
From his craddle
Left in a pile of snow
Just across the road
As his mother
Scrambled to extract
From the flames
A few blankets.
After
Great-grandfather
Died (1868)
his widow
(called by her
grandchildren
Apu-cihtis)
(Derived from ‘papucihtis, a name endearing father)
Made a living
Blessing
Future harvests
Of the barons
With cow manure
At the end of
a pitchfork
and darned
Grandfather’s
pants
So he would not
go
To school with
Bare knees
showing.
Grandfather
Did not forget
The violence done
His father and mother
And swore
Revenge
By the force
Of God’s lottery.
The Devil liked the odds.
For him the results
Would be worth
A laugh—even if
At the expense of
Future generations.
Assured of ruin
And embraced
By rejection
The DevilDieveliņš
Had plenty of time
To wait for
His ”Ha, ha’’ moment.
One such moment
Records grandfather
Telling merrymakers
at a pub (though as a
Herrnhuter He swore off alcohol):
”someday I will become
A millionaire.
Sooner
He sang with them:
*(Lyrics
by Imants Ziedonis: ”Šī Dieva zeme.../ Par verga algu es tajā sirgšu,/ Par
indes malku es viņu pirkšu....” Fragmentary translation by the aauthor)
If Gotland
Will rise...
I will gladly live
Off crumbs
And gladly swallow
A draught of poison
If it buys Her
A day in the sun.
May the Devil go
To perdition
A thousand times.
What evil wit
Put grandfather
Into the pub?
No doubt
Gretchen and Intrigue
Took part
When she played
First Lady
of Latvia.
It was expedient
To claim
To be Gretel and
Not a millionaires.
Afterall
Her object of affection
Was Latvia’s President
Karl Hansel Ulman
Who let the people
He governed die
So he could live*.
*K. Ulmanis https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/K%C4%81rlis_Ulmanis was the President of Latvia,
when the Soviet Union occupied the country. Ulmanis seized Latvia’s government
reigns in a coup in May of 1934. However, he did not demonstrate that his coup was
based on some special conviction about the destiny of the State of Latvia or
its people. Instead, he proved himself to have been an all too naked clerk of a
nascent state’s bureaucracy, when he surrendered the state to the Soviets,
excusing thesurrender by claiming Latvia was too small and weak to offer resistance and
engage in an ”unwinnable war”. Unlike Hitler, who pretended to take
responibility for his reign by committing suicide (real or fake—no one knows
for sure), Ulmanis agreed to take an agronomer’s post in a kolkhoz in
Stavropol, Russia. He also abandoned his pretentious would be concubine, the
poet’s Godmother Intrigue, who served as cover to his homosexuality, and with
whom he may have planned his life in exile in Switzerland. Ulmanis cowardice
and forfeiture of responsibility left the Latvian people with an inferiority
complex that led the ‘renewed’ state to an illgal https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RVKGSGWTcw4 surrender of its sovereignty to
the European Union, the latest incarnation of The Holy Roman Empire.
Following the occupation
Of Latvia
By the Soviet Union
Hansel und Gretel
Believed they could ‘elope’
To Switzerland
Where Gretchen
Had a villa
And could play
BabaYaga the witch
A second time around.
A believable occasion for
Grandfathers braggadocio
Could have been
At an inn
where herders
Gathered following
Globalist sermons.
Once out
The church door
The paYahns
Cum ‘pagans’
Went to the nearest inn
Where
To clear their memory
Of lies
They had been forced
To listen to
They drank dry
All the barrels of beer.
The ambition
To become
A millionaire
May have been
The result of an
effort
To escape
Becoming raw
meat
To the
Clergy
indoctrinated
State
bureaucracy*.
*The 1905 Revolution in Russia (and what is now Latvia)
had a distinct anti clerical tilt. Latvia was founded in 1918 as a secular
state. Currently this is interpreted as a movement againt religion https://dspace.lu.lv/dspace/bitstream/handle/7/34500/298-56364-Misane_Agita_am09480.pdf?sequence=1&isAllowed=y (see p85 ffl). However, in
retrospect the atheistic tilt can be viewed as led by Lutheran infoctrinated
elites. The elitist perspective gained prominence, because the political
leadership argued that secularism (democratic liberalism) would lead to
economic development sooner than religious belief. However, the secular
orientation led neither to economic development or community solidarity when
facing cadres of violent city borne socialists.
Grandfather bet
He could
survive
Another
bankrupcy.
He did not believe
He would leave
His
grandchildren
To the mercies
Of the lottery.
It was for the worry
Of this bet
That Intrigue murdered
Grandmother.
The scenario
Had the support
of
Latvia’s kultūras fonds
Intrigue
would play
Gretchen
And Hansel would play
President over
A country denied
Its heritage
Baba Yaga’s
Tarot read
Had grandfather
Became
Gretchen’s ‘Bingo!’
For seven years
After taking to
The greener
pastures
Of a wealthy
man
In retirement
Grandfather
Raised studs
And held on
To the illusion
Horse would beat
The tank
Even as Intrigue
Bought
(In his name)
The Latvian government
an escadrille of biplanes
In 1939
Blood stopped flowing
To grandfather’s legs.
The poet
Still holding the hand of
His nanny
Brought him
A bouquet of
Intrigue
Pretending concern
Sent a biplane
To Helsinki
To bring Pennicillyn.
It was of no
help and
Grandfather died
Leaving
His heirs with
An empty bag
And lies by
Befuddled
tongues.
4 The Story of Father*
*Father’s post student
days bio:
At the beginning of WW1, father was a student at St.
Petersburg University, studying engineering. With thebeginning of thewar, he
enrolled at the St. Petersburg’s artillery school. Following the1917
Revolution,, he was commandeered by General Denikin, the commander of the White
Army to the Ukraine front, where he was put in charge of the railroad lines.
Apparently father was not a happy volunteer and managed to resign, and was then
made manager of the coal mine at Nadejadinskia. That is where he was At the end
of the war. Because Latvia had declared independece from Russia by then, he was
able to return to Riga, where he began working for the daily newspaper Jaunākās
Ziņas Latest News, of which his father was a founder and editor in
chief. By 1932 father took over his father’s position and became the
newspaper’s de facto editor-in-chief,
and brought the newsper not only international reknown, which is why by 1936 he became editor-in-chief
de jure. With circulation reaching
200,000 copies and with each copy said read by up to six people, the newspaper
outdid even the London press. After grandfather died, Intrigue exercised her
power as Publisher and had father fired from his position. Nevertheless, he was
quickly reintated as no one else could fill his shoes and the newspaper wouldsuffer
financial losses.
When the Soviet Army occupied Latvia in 1940, the
newspaper was seized by the Communist Party, and father lost his job. He and
his family lost their house and apartment, which is when father took everyone
to the farm of his aunt Emma, his mother’s sister. Thereafter, he was forced to
return to Riga, where he was arested and subjected to interrogation by the
Jewish Bolshevik** controlled Cheka,
which had him deported. As for the reasons
why Latvians and Russians were terrorized by Jewish Bolsheviks**, see
Solzhenitsyn’s suppressed book ”Two
Hundred Years Together” https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Two_Hundred_Years_Together .
**From
the poet’s perspective, the Jewish Bolshevik was as likely a descendant of the
Jan Huss religious movement in Bohemia https://www.britannica.com/biography/Jan-Hus as the Latvian Herrnhuters. For political
reasons historians have neglected exploring the likelyhood that much of the
socialist and communist movements in the 20th century arose due to the
repressions of Civil cum Peasant societies
that followed the Westphalia Peace Treaty of 1648. The treaty’s major
beneficiaries, the Catholic (its pro secular theology and fake scriptures were never
challenged by Luther) and Lutheran churches hastened to repress the numerous smaller
popular factions that had provided the fuel for the Religious Wars. Indeed the ‘Religious
Wars’ were part of an ever recurring ‘permanent’ Revolution from below against
the elites who had ensconced themsrlves ‘above’. Westphalia ‘Peace’ put a
temporary end to an uprising of archChristians against urbanist Catholic cum
Globalist led seizure of human society. The faked up Peace was shattered when a
yet relatively ‘wild’ Eastern Europe and Asia refused to conform to the dictats
of urbanist led ‘age of Enlightenment’ https://www.newworldencyclopedia.org/entry/Age_of_Enlightenment
and in the 20th century
challenged urbanism in the ill fated so-called ‘Communist’ Revolutions.
To repeat, the poet’s implicit position with regard to
European history: European history consists (?begins with) fake historical’
books ever since Europe was invaded (4-6th centuries, during so-called ‘dark
ages’) by nomadic herders called Huns, aka Gans or Yohns/ Johns, who were led
by one John The king (Gengis Khan). In the course of the invasion, the
leadership of the horde og herders passed to the Goths https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Huns ,
who in the guise of Ghermanic people went on to occupy most of Western Europe. If
historians were not so timid and orthodox in their mental make up, we would
have realized long ago that the desertification of Central-Asia began with
sheep overgrazing the Central Asian
steppe. The overgrazing continues in Western Europe perpetrated by the fanatical apetīte of human sheep raised in
barns called cities https://www.zerohedge.com/news/2019-06-27/central-europe-alert-heat-wave-hell-terrorizes-france .
The Civil Holocost that visited the Herrnhuters—who came to
Latvia in 1729— after the Great Northern War https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_Northern_War, began
in 1743 after Tsarina Elizabeth forbade the members of the movement to meet,
and who were therefore forced to go underground, so-called ‘Silent March’. One
of the hopes of the Herrnhuters had been to establish for themselves a
territory they could and would call ”Gotland/ God’sland Dievzemīte”
However, the Herrnhuters were quickly repressed and thereafter eliminated by
the German and-Swedish and compliant Latvian led Lutheran Church. In Latvia the
Herrnhuter movement splintered with some taking an interest in Judaism and the
Kabbalah https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kabbalah ;
while others joined the Russian Orthodox Church; and yet others becoming
communists. Their existence continues to be challenged even in the 21st cenatury.
Anecdote: When the poet attended (2018) a
lecture at the Valmiera Public Library (advertised as a lecture on the history
of the Herrnhuters in Valmiera) and asked the lecturer, a Lutheran minister,
why the Valmiera Lutheran Lutheran church was standing, but of Deacon HillDeakonāts –once the center of Herrnhuter activity—except for the
name, nothing remained, the minister abruptly turned his back to thequestioner
and left.
In the case of the poet’s forebears, greatgrandfather’s inn
was (deliberately) destroyed by fire in 1860. With opportunities to develop
their own movement in Latvia denied them and Catholic Christian theology incapable
of improving the human lot, grandfather became a teacher, tried his hand as a
shopowner, then became a newspaper editor in Riga. The repression of the Herrnhutisters
in Latvia resulted in a welfare or entitlement oriented parlimentarian
democratic State—the kind that Socrates https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fLJBzhcSWTk and
Aristotle warned against. The current state, reestablished after the fall of
the Soviet Union, has lacked the will to be sovereign. As a result it is but a ‘third
world’ province of the European Union (EU), which—not surprisingly—treats it no
better than a name on the map.
Father’s
Older brother
(By eight years)
The first born1884
KarlKahrlis
Died in 1910
Of syphillis
(According to
Family hints and hushes)
He contracted
As a student
In St. Petersburg.
The ‘sin’
Let Karl be forgot
And let his grave site
Remain hid.
Yet Kahrlis
Was the one
Who brought
From St
Petersburg
To Riga
Hard to come by
Printers ink
And in
subsequent years
Ink was a tool
Of
revolutionaries).
In prewar days
St Petersburg
was
A relay
junction
For new ideas
And the notion
(Imported from
America)
That news
Might be
published
For pennies
If advertising
(About where to
buy
The best boots
in town)
Fills most of
The newspaper.
Grandfather
Having failed
As a playwright
Another attempt
to escape
The Catholic
and
Globalist noose
[He was too much
Of a populist
In his
religious perspective
(Surely hewould
concur
With this poet
That John the
Baptist
Not only preceded
But was the
true
Christ)]
Took the idea
And shared it
With his
paramour
A failed
actress
Turned
A walking selfie
—Who (it happened)
Was married to
an unpopular
actor
Who had no
future
And (to make
ends meet)
Was provuringselling
ads
For Riga’s
German
newspapers.
Said
grandfather:
Mein Schatz
My treasure
Let us start
A newspaper.
You pimp ads
I will edit the
news
And preach
Against the use
Of alcohol.
By making
Shopowners
wealthy
We too may
Become wealthy.
The socialist
poet
Rainis
Who wanted to
become
Latvia’s
president
And Aspahzija
The poetess
Who remains a
virgin
Even as his
bedmate
Will legitimize
us
By confirming
us
Their
antagonists*.
*The antagonism between grandfather and Rainis is never
mentioned in Latvia, though the Index of Rainis Collected Works (25 volumes)
give unmistakeble evidence that the relationship at the very least was a
difficult one. This poet rediscovered this relationship only after a countryside
village library threw out its collection of Rainis’s Collected Works, and one
of the editions found its way to the hopper of a countryside john.
Intrigue
Seeing
Her opportunity
To divorce her
Actor husband
Answered:
I will do it, dear
I will pet
Your cock
If you trust me
To be publisher
Until
you pay off
Your creditors.
Incredibly
Grandfather
Cockolded by
The promises
Of a cityborn
twirk
Agreed
And staged
A drama
That would last
For generations
And hear
The Devil
Clap one hand
In God’s face
Until God
awakened
To the dare
He had made.
Desperate
To join an
‘Enlightened’ age
Which is
fracturing
Inverting
And turning
Up side down
All things born
of
Mother Nature
Lets trees
erupt
As Gothic and
Brick buildings
And cities
Stretching
their
3600
fingers
all over
including
Underwear.
Grandfather,
lay back
And let the
actress
Do his shtick.
The rest is history:
He and his’n
Got fucked
By someone
Who made
Herself up
As the First Lady
Of Latvia
Who hadits
Who hadits
Selfie President
As her gigolo.
To get away with it
(no questions asked)
All Intrigue
Had to do
Was kill
Her second husband’s
First wife who
Having had
A keyhole glimpse
Knew too much.
The gigolo would
For political reasons
Keep his silence
And so would time
What with it being
What with it being
Too complicated
To do
An investigation
My father
Editor in chief
Of The Latest
News
And resposible
For the public
Word
That held
Together
Into acommunity
Two million
Latvian Ludds
Was in no
position
To tell
What he knew
All he could do
Was hope
He would live
Long enough
To write a book
About how life
Came to be staged
As a scene
Of lies
Of Wagnerian
proportions.
My other
grandmother
(Mother’s mother)
Could not
forget
Her role in the
sharade
And forty years
later
Wrote
A guilt filled
confession
That tried to
cover up
The sale
By her husband
Of their
spoiled daughter
To grandfather
Who
Presented her
All nicely
wrapped
To his son.
Wrote the knaz’s
Granddaughter:
”How I prayed for you,
Manya
When you
Were married
To John.”
To keep
Her innocense
Eternal
Mother kept
silence.
My younger
brother
Of our uncommon
father
A Doctor of
Psychology
Though aware of
The existential
threat
Facing the family
Refused to reveal
His
indifference
But held on
To his conceits
hid
Behind the
facade
Of a degree
In psycholog.
Except for
A poetic
license
That is where
the story
Would remain.
*When truth becomes a lie, history is inverted. Nowhere
is this more true than the poet’s country of birth, Latvia. Even in 2019 few
Latvians know that the origin of their country is in the pietist movement
brought to Livonia from Bohemia and Moravia after the great Northern War fought
between Sweden and Russia at the beginning of the 18th century, or that their
countrymen and women played a significant role in the 1905 and 1917 Russian
Revolutions. Instead the postSoviet government of ‘renewed’, NATO propped, but
no longer ‘sovereign’ Latvia is explained as a more or less liberal movement
arising out of a Russian and German educated atheist Lutheran oriented student
elite. This has created an uptight elite-led ‘culture’ that is as secretive in
post-Soviet Latvia as it was in times of the Soviet Union.
Though the poet’s allegations of the murder of his
paternal grandparents are circumstantial, the circumstances are telling. Some significant dates and
circumstances:
1. The infamous Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact was signed on the 23rd of August,
1939.
2. It is not generally known that the Latvian ruling elite had foreknowlege of
the coming occuption. For one,the poet remembers, his father and maternal grandfather
(formerly ambassador to the Soviet Union) walking in the family garden
following his sixth birthday (26 July, 1939) party, and discussing
the coming German attack on Poland (1 September, 1939) and near certain Soviet
occupation of the Baltic states.
3. Among friends of Intrigue’s greater family was Ribbentrop, Hitler’s Foreign
ministits friend to this day (see Sestdiena, 16-22 March, 2018 https://www.diena.lv/raksts/sestdiena/tema/nams-ar-vesturi-14193427
). Ribentrop
allegedly arranged an interview for Intrigue with Himmler, who is said to have
denied her the right to emigrate to Germany as a Baltic German. The reasons for
the denial remain unclear, as Intrigue was known to be sympthetic to the German
cause and had supported the cause in 1919, when Bermont-Avalov’s led ‘Special
Russian Corps’ of motly Gherman soldiers occupied Riga https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/West_Russian_Volunteer_Army.
4. In 1939 Intrigue was known as the First Lady of Latvia, an unofficial title
tolerated (likely deliberately encouraged) by Latvia’s dictator President K.
Ulmanis. This is reason enough to suspect
that my grandparents murders were for reasons of the State’s convenience, and was
(and my yer remain) a closely guatdef State secret.
5. Grandmother died on the 17th of October,1939, only three months
after the death of grandfather (her first and only husband). Interestingly, her
death occurs at time when her daughters are planning to bring a civil suit (for
unfair distribution of family inheritance) againt Intrigue.
6. Grandmother’s participation as a court witness would have revealed many
family (and other) secrets.
5 An Augenblink
Consciousness is
But the memory
Of a dream
Encapsuled
By vanity.
Wrote Goethe
(Imagining
Himself son of
Job or Faust
And, thus,
potential beneficiary
Of Divine intercession):
“Was du ererbt
Von deinen Vätern
hast,
Erwirb es,
Erwirb es,
Um es zu besitzen.”
(Auth. trans: What
you inherit from your fathers, inherit it in such a way as to possess it)
“Was man nicht
nützt,
Ist eine schwere Last,
Nur was der Augenblick
Erschafft,
Das kann er nützen.”
(Auth. trans: What one
does not use of one’s inheritance) becomes an unbearable burden that survives
for but the blink of an eye.)
Goethe
knew that
Death!
Was
embraced by
The
trumpet’s blare
(That
presented
God
At
the
Devil’s
Victory
celebration)
With
a clap
In
His face.
Is
this why
Wolfgang*led
His
German sheep
Out
of God’s sight?
*Wolfgang
is a German name that Grimm’s Law translates as ‘herder of wolves’, though
originally the name probably meant ‘guardian of the herd from wolves’, i.e.
‘shepherd’. Goethe was baptizef ‘Johann Wolfgang’. ‘Johann’ is but a variation
of ‘gang’/aka jang, yan, jean, john, huan, ivan etc., all cognates that recall
the ancient occupation of tribes as herders. Be that as it may, it is this
poet’s guess that Goethe’s subjectivelyf identified himself more with the
occupation of his ancestors than German intelligentsia of the 18th or
19th csentury.
I love my cat
For the
Augenblicks
He cherishes
When stretched
out
On my lap
After hunting a
mouse
And his paws
bite
Into my thigh
and I cry
‘Thanks’and
Drop him to the
floor.
Not surprisingly
In an Age of
Conceited
Human lemings
Thirsting
immortal waters
seek death
En masse
History is
become
an Augenblick
by virtue of
being
Set in ever
So brittle
White plaster
by historians
Making-believe
Themselves
masons
Of
fortifications
For a
civilization
Founded on
Foreshortened lives
Foreshortened lives
That shield
Cities and
states
From consciousness
And lip
Birthday songs
Sans a birth
date
Or parents.
Ours is a time
That renames
Tanners
And drives
Gatherers of
Animal hair and wool
Off rosebush stalks
To go scrape
for a living.
Simple men
Hunt elk
And Used car dealers
show antlers
On the walls
Of their mobile home
offices.
Desperate women
Fuck desperate
men
To spell
Children
With a wit as
desperate.
Psychologists and
Doctors of Philosophy
Hold on to vanity
With convincing
Conceit
No one knows why
They they believe
Themselves
Conscious
And know nada
About the anatomy of
The pyche
Or why
Their children
Pretend
With narry a
doubt
That God is
naught
And was created
By some
suicidal poet
Desperate for
An audience.
Last night
After more
Than fifty years
I again met Silvie
Who once
I was engaged to marry.
I saw her
On a street in Boston
Pushing
A baby carriage
And asked her:
Is that you, Silvie?
She turned to me
Met my eye
And abruptly
Turned away from me.
Taken aback
I said:
”I am sorry,
Take care”
And continued my way
Up Beacon Street
To where it ends
I know not.
Thereafter
Thirty years
Came to make
And became
Nearly forgot
Before another 30
Did their turn.
By some grace
The face of
The babe
Of Anne’s miscarriage
I saw not.
Such
Moments of
Remembrance
When
A foreshortened
Life skids out
From under one
Becomes
The eternalest
Of curses.
Ai,
As is the habit
of dreams
It awakened me
To another day:
Had I but lived
In the countryside
And been a cobbler
Of horses’ hooves
And you a maid
In my aunt’s kitchen,
I would have been
All over you
Till our
Kingdom in bed
Was aswirl
And our sweet lava of
Honey and cream
Gave suck
To another generation
Of innocents.
6 With Wishing Wand in Hand
Civilization
Is a game of rape
Introduced by
City-zen
Clints of Eastwood
Playing Gods
Teaching
Boys in Charlestown cry:
Make my day!”.
A son of
The hooligans
Stole my trust
And turned me
A sovereign
For life
At age eleven
In a toilet
Of the Gdansk
Maritime University
Sheltering
Peasant populists
Fleeing
The City-zen led
Fashist cum Bolshevik
Bloodbaths
A lasting image
Of which
For the poet
Remains
The sight of
Dead horses
Drawn by cranes
From Sanka’s
deepest holds
Then cropped
Over the ship’s
Starboard side
Into jellyfish
crowded
Gulf of Gdansk
To float
Until
Gut is punctured
By bullets
And fill up
With water
And sink
Out of sight
All this occured
Within sight of
Long orgotten
Amber mines
Of Old Prussian kings
The crippled Gods
The Krihvi*
Of herder (pa-gan)
Tribes**
Of the Balts
*Krihvi—by making use of Grimm’s Law ‘krihvi’ comes to
spell ‘klibie’, which is to say ‘clubfoots’ (in Latvian), who likely were
ancient Man-Gods of the Balts. We may remember that Oedipus, the famous Greek
king, was a clubfoot. Jesus, too, is said to have had nails driven through his
feet, which—following his resurrection —would have made him appear to
Mary-Magdalene, his mother, and his disciples as a man with a limp. Why with a
limp? Because a limp was the sign by which a man was identified as a self-sacrifice
to the Great Spirit, whereafter he became God. In effect, the ”Great Spirit” Who
ruled the aboriginal tribes is renamed ”God”. The sacrificial ritual has
ancient roots, and is exhaustively described by James Frazer in his book ‘The
Golden Bough’. All kings who succeeded the sacrifice were deemed Divine beings.
The last Divine kings in Western civilization were 1. Saint John the Baptist,
2. Jesus, 3. Cuauhtemoc https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cuauht%C3%A9moc
and 4. King Louis
XVI of France. Though human sacrifice had long ceased by the time of the last,
the myth about the Divinity of kings had remained alive among the common
people, who confirmed this by dipping their scarves or handkerchiefs in the
blood of the king, who was ordered to be guillotined by Robespierre https://www.france24.com/en/20121231-rag-dipped-blood-guillotined-french-king-genuine-louis-xvi-dna-history .
Incidentally, Pagan does not , mean ‘godless’ as is commonly believed by
misinformed catholicized Christians, but ‘herder’. Ancient tribes people earned
their livelthood not as ‘hunters gatherers’, but as ‘herders, gatherers, and
gardeners’. Pagan is a word that consists of two parts: the prefix ’pa-’, which
diminihes the word + ‘gan’/ herder that follows it. The misunderstanding ofn
the meaning of ‘pagan’ is like turning a virgin named Agapia https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BFK3DJ7Kn6s into a
whore named Intrigue.
Along the shores
Of now
Putrid
Become
Baltic.
The first Krihv
Who tried to save
His tribe
From the flood
Of ghermanized
Jellyfish
Sucking the skin off
Decaying sacrifice
Sacrificed a sow
And threw it
Into the sea
Was a Balt
Later mistakenly held
To be a Greek
Later still
German sailors
Who
Sporting automatic rifles
Strafed the ribs and bellies
Of dead horses
with bullet thuds
That opened holes
In puffed out
Bellies.
In Weimar
I entered the milk shop
With raised arm
Heiling Hitler
And watched
The city’s
Theatre burn
Flames bursting
Through
Its arched windows
While
A man
From a Buchenwald
Clearing rubble
Fell before me
On his knees
And begged for
A bread bun
He had spotted
In my shopping basket
Indoctrinated by
Our hosts
I refused him.
Mother
Made love
To a Luftwaffe Officer
From Muenchen
Come to visit
His parents
Who carried
The sign of the wheel
Of the counterclock Sun
Yet took no offense
At our Jewish sounding
surname
Nor asked
Whether I was circumcized.
I already knew
How to make a drill
Of my hand
And piss
Into a pile of sand
In the attick
(Put there
To douse the flames
In case
A phosphorus bomb
Fell through the roof).
Hans accompanied
us
The night
The bombs fell
As we watched
Dresden burn
Behind a rose
red horizon
Hans
Sitting next to
me
Pleasured
Mother’s
crotch.
All that was
Sodered into me
By angst
Where it sits
As a clump
Of rusted iron
Nails
And reminds me
That
Was du ererbt (hast)
Wolst du besitzen
Far
into
The
future
And like rust
Beyond removing
Makes recall
Of scream of sparrows
I killed
When (age nine)
I offered seeds
To the sparrows
In the rose
bush
To come feed
On the trigger
Of a rat trap.
No one stopped
me
Nor father,
Dead of
A bullet
When on my 6th
birthday
He presentedme
With a toy rifle
Which he raised
To his shoulder
To show me
How to use.
I know not why
As if
By some foresight
I cried out ”No!”
But forgave him
When screaming
A tantrum of prayers
(When sure
Everyone
Was at the other end
Of the house)
I bounced
On the bed
Begging God
To stay him
Among the living.
There were days
I fucked mother
With
No lesser
Tandrums
Then watched
Her face
Twist
Stupefied
For what reason
She had been
Fucked by her
Lack loved son
Who ran
To her side
After she
fainted
And tried
revive her
By offering her
Sugared water
To cover up
His sin.
The benefit was
I had no father
Who took me
To the whore house
Where orphaned girls
faking love
For one and all
Cried ”Fuck me!
Fuck me hard!”
Then asked her client:
”Will you marry me?”.
War was
The horse
Between my legs
Turned to a starling
Screaming
Between the cat’s paws
”Spare me!
I have nestlings”
In the nest.
God did not come
(as you may think)
To the rescue
But continued
Over and over
To die.
”There is no other way
You can be taught...”
The King said,
”...Not to fear death or
Human indiference
To cruel solutions”.
Cindy said
I was
A macho male.
Silvie said
I had
A beautiful soul
Divine Rusalka
Sings yet
It leaves me
Wondering, why
The needfire...
For love
Of abandoned cats
In post-Soviet Latvia
With their step-families
Gone off
To England
To pluck feathers
Off dead chicken bodies
In chicken factories
Where only Muslims
Cut the throats of
Christian raised
Chickens
Seek me out.
Is it because
I assume the
My like and
I say a prayer
For us?
The she-cat
Perhaps
Seeking
A last minute
Hope in
A life gone wrong
Found
In my shed
A shredded
Cardboard box
With a torn towel
To lie on and
To die on
And for
Some reason
Made me feel
Like a host
Worthy of a citation
For hospitality.
7 Loop de Loop
The train came
And took us
A few hundred
A few days before
The arrival
Of the Bolsheviks
And brought us
By way of numerous
Railway stadions
Turned ammo dumps
A military camp
(To this day)
In a wood
Threwn with
Two feet long
Pencil shaped
Phosphorus bombs
Vilseck was
Jerusalem
For the unwanted
Who
After being
Deloused
Hastened to
Try save their heirs
From being left unschooled
From being left unschooled
Had the poet
Age 12
Finish 5th grade
In 3 months
Remembering which
Marathon
74 years later
Brings to mind
The ama zing will
The deplorables showed
For survival
Indeed,
It was such spontaneous
Pareidolia*
*Pareidolia is a form of mental activity (sometimes it
said to be a ‘fake religion’—seeing and hearing things https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YUy7pwp9Qmo
) that in our age
of ‘science’ and murderous razor-edged vision.is denied legitimacy. Pareidolia
is used by smart ass ‘losers’ to escape a head on attack by making a side step
and letting the killer crash and eat dirt https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BgPinqi2jwU
That spelled
‘Kasern’ as
‘castle’
‘castrum’
‘al quasr
And have
A refugee choir
J-e-r-u-s-a-l-e-m
sing:
“And
is the Lamb of God,
Ever
On
our pasture seen?”
While official slander
Twists and makes
Yarosalem of ‘pagans’
Spell Yaroslavl
https://city-yaroslavl.ru/en/
https://city-yaroslavl.ru/en/
And causes the English
Forget
That ‘yarn’
Is of a lamb
And King John The Baptist
Of Ludds
From Luddon
Was replaced with
A boy king
Anfonly the poet
William Blake dares mention
That England, too
Had a Jerusalem
Where on a mattres
Of a straw threwn floor
Lambs
And luddies
from Nottingham
Turned out of home
By missionaries
Found a respite
From perilous lords.
Then by way of
Bamberg, Amberg,
To a room
At 12 Beutauklingen Strasse
In Esslingen am Neckar
Whence on to New York
And Boston
Where a couple
Keeping a house
Full or orphans
Gave me room and board
In return for
A helping hand
Where
In the afternoons
Ol’ Smittie and I
Played
Chess
Whereafter
Smittie was succored
(To the chagrin
Of Delores)
by Nellie
In the attick bedroom.
Had Nellie
But laid me
Perhaps I would
have
Stayed onBut it
was
Not to be
Instead
Valvala
Listened to me
Play the
harmonica
And spoke
The nicest
words
I ever heard:
”I am ready
For you, Robin!
I am ready!”
I did not take her
Either.
The world
Continued turn
Upside down.
News came
Who knows
By what whisper
Intrigue
had died1941.09.23
Of diarrhea and
Stomach cramps
At the Solimska saltmiles
A Soviet gulag
In my other
Grandmother’s arms
She had bought
A can of sprats
To celebrate
her birthday1881.09.10*
*Salmonella poisoning takes more than a week before one
dies of it.
Moving on
I found myself
In Inchon
—Three days
After the armistice
Of a United Nations
War—
I was among
fucked-up men
like myself
Doing my bit
For humankind
Born of asphalt
And
Like all
Stared bewildered
At bare breasted
Korean peasant women
Walk ten paces behind
Their husbands
Who flicked the vipers
Come sun
On the dirt road
Back into the
Rice paddy.
Still, I read the
Standad issue Testament
And when
In our tent
Destitute
Peasant daughters
Went from
cot to cot
Selling the troops
Nots o freah meat
Twirking
Between their legs
I turned
to my other side
Wherefore
My brothers-in-arms
Soon called me
‘Stuck-up’
(On himself).
Helped by a
sock
In thedarkness
of
My sleeping bag
I did my best
To remain
sovereign.
Months later on ‘rest
And recuperation’
In a Japanese
Whorehouse
In Kobe
One Maya
asked me
”Will you marry me?”
I blunted ”No”
Then embraced her
And both wept.
Maya took me
To the shrine
For fucked-up children
Sitting
Dressed up
As pretty dolls
On the temple’s shelves.
I fully understood
Maya’s despair
Only decades
later
(when by way of
many
Loop de loops)
I was back in
Latviain the 1990s
And asked
A fiftyish
hitchhiker
What she
thought of
The country
regaining
Its
independence,
She looked at
me
Touched my hand
(not my thigh)
And replied:
”I am almost
ready
To become
A whore.”
I did no take
her
Up on it
By handing her
Twenty dollars
The going price
for
A piece of
pussy.
No Latvian
churchman
Knew to teļl
The story of
St. Agnes
The raped Roman
lamb
But ler
Thedeplorables
of
A
renewedcountry
watch her
Reincarnations
Dragged along
The highways
And byways of
Got’sland
And prove that
In Latvia
All Moravians
Were long dead
By hands of
A murderous
Germans and
A consenting
Latvian
Lutheran church
Done serving
In Korea
I told a sargeant
Pulling rank
”Go fuck yourself!”
And was sent
To dig a hole
To be filled
With shit
By my replacement.
I returned to Boston
Where
For reasons unknown
Boston University
Refused my application
To study theology.
Perhaps
The doormen
Of the department
Knew
I was capable
Of telling them
To go fuck as well.
Wherefore
I took to English
And signed up
For a poetry seminar
Given by Robert Lowell
Who had written
Prize winning
”Lord Weary’s Castle”.
Though I had
heard of
Herzog Bluebeard
I had never heard of
Skunk Hour
Or ‘confessional’ poetry.
Yet by some fury
Pilloried
a poem:
”...Bloodpost
Will become
Life again”.
Thereafter
I could no more
Make sense
Of words.
My incoherance
Seemed beyond cure.
I was too young
To be a poet
Of my time.
Life demanded
I live it and
Rethink it
Before I dare
Paraidol it.
So, here I am
At eighty-six
As the Greek vase
pictures it:
Jason
Spit from
The serpent’s gut
Like a fish
Parboiled
Morally raped
outraged
In the steams
of Cities
gone mad.
8 In Remembrance of Misha
As T. S. Eliott wrote”:
“..., do not ask,
'What is it?'
Let us go
and make our visit”
Then
We will see
If
denial
And inversion is
The haze that
Drifts through
The Kremlin
Dining room
The White House
Oval office
And other
Heavenly places
After arrest
Of mind of men
In Superman suits
Takesplace.
Truth is
No one knew
Had enough
Cried Alleluia!
Committed suicide
And proved St.alin
But a shaggy dog
sniffing his way
Across an alcohol
befogged
Moscva bridge
Early one morning
Hunting the last
Sovereign ghost
Of some escaped kulak
Or his wife
To have them come
Lick and
Wash with vodka
The blood splattered
Leather kilts
Of the butchers
Of yhe Ludyankas
In the cellars
Of the Lyu-b-yanka
So named in
By the power drunk
Butcher’s men
Raising him
The Soviet empire
Though a Soviet
Need never have
More kolkhozniks
Than fifty rihtig finks
And a choir is
Big enough
with six voices
So much
For steel
Tempered in
City waters:
We think, write,
and temper
The laws we
want
The way we want
The country be
damned...
Let the bitch
Lie naked
Under the dining
table
With her skirt
drawn
And wait for a
stakhanovich
To draw aside
The table cloth
and
Come down
And give her
A fuck.
After Nadezhda’s
suicide
St.alin
was reborn
As a living dead
man
who heard
her ghost liken
her suicide
To the murder
Of their children
Left to himself
St.alin
went on
To become a
portrait
Of a man-God*
Free to kill anyone
Who found
himself
Or herself
In the lineof
sight
Whereever its
gaze fell
And awakened
Memories
*When Nadezhda killed herself, she did for Stalin what
he, because of his indoctrination in Orthodox and Catholic globalist theology
(that religion is a tool of the State) did not dare or have the courage to do
himself. Because she had been Stalin’s intimate, Nadezhda intuited that the
man-God orientation of theology had reached its nadir in St.alin,
and decided to return Divinity to the Great Spirit by committing suicide. Needless
to say, Nadezhda proved St.alin’s subjective self to be cowardly. On
the other hand, once he was emptied of Nadezhda’s presence (1932), St.alin’s
subjective self (freed from having to kill Nadezhda if not his son) felt free to
become God of Terror as only the Book of Revelation forecast it https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p5eP_HoNUx8
(Click 35:00)
With God dead, and the search for His successor a failure,
city dwellers began to identify with what is known as ‘naked humanity’.
Unfortunately, this movement was preoccupied with and limited itself to City borne
Nature https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LWCe_b_8ZlM and
became identified with featherless chickens https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8qJK5K_fcfE . Because City dwellers fail to
recognie themselves as radically different new species, Nadezhda’s self-sacrifice
means nothing to them, and a thousant mutants of St.alin seek to
emigrante to Mars instead. Though the movement received suppor from the main stream
media, even a total deforestation of planet Earth could not pay for it, and Earth
became even more uninhabitable https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BB5U8Goa_iY (note
how the stupid profesor of truth believes more air conditioning will solve all
problems) than in the day of holodomor https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C_F1kYQlcS .
Interestingy the subjective mind of the human collective believed that it
credible that the problems on Earth were caused by Martians as early ass 1938 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xs0K4ApWl4g . With most of Humankind living in cities, it is no
surprise that cityfolk found it relatively easy to identify with overheated featherless
chickens running short on chickenfeed. Countryfolk, too, influenced by radio
were subject to increaing anxieties. Thus, with expectations of Doom becoming
inevitable, many turned to the Bible, expected Armageddon https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iq6q2BrTino , and the return of God as Savior.
**While the Great Spirit was—more often than
not—perceived as feminine in its nature, God on the other hand was seen as
masculine. Why? The answer is simple: Women are mothers of children and birthe the
human race; men, on the other hand, are seen as the protectors of communities
(families, tribes, countries), which circumstance causes them to sacridice
their lives https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3EYU3VTI3IU . As
pointed out at above (*), God is consequent to the sacrifice of life by a male
inividual more often than of a female.
***It is worth noting that The Great Spirit was for the most
part believed to represent Life in the wood. Once the self-sacrificial male was
metamorphosed into God, Life was replaced by Consciousness. Consciousness dressed
in a suit is subject to failure and death more often than Lifein the wild; and
was squared, when in the course of time, men began to convert God to the ends
of human institutions. God lost His man-God charisma, and Nature came to be
replaced with reichs, empires—and was led by the likes of St.alin.
City tempered
In globalist
ice-waters
St.alin
Inserted
His ice-water
Stiffened body
And mind
Among the
living
By forcing
awake
Memories of
Certain
Death
sentences.
Death to the
peasants !
Shouted
countless
Deputies
Let there be
Sputniks
And trips to
the moon
Who cares if
Misha
Dies an
alcoholic.
We need the
levy
On gin and
vodka
To keep our
cities
Going
Let ants
replace
The Romas’s* of
birds
With concrete
Towers into the
clouds.
*Just as the word ‘pagan’ is derived from the word ‘gan’ (meaning
herder, and originaly pronounced ‘yan’/jan), so ‘roma’ is derived from an old anf
now forgotten word, meaning nest or cradle. When the warlords introduced
agriculture, and began deforestation, many people who dwelt in forest Romas, in
order to escape slavery, fled from their millenium old habitats. The flights
took place on foot, and in horse drawn boats or wagons. While today it is
believed that the Roma (gypies, zigeuner https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0M16447BSZI&list=RDQTEokyBCYLk ) originated in
India, it is more likely that they are of any number of ‘Romas’, a name
appropriated by the Catholic Church for its sole use. In the poet’s country of
origin, Latvia, there are records of hundreds of place names, once homesteads
in the forest, called ‘Roma’. True to the contemptuous attitude of the
post-Soviet Latvian government for all things of preindustrial age or Russian, the
original homesteads of the Latvian people are a matter of indifference for Pop-culturalized
city-zen bureaucrats.
Gypsy culture
Self generates
Every time
The city sociopaths
Create a new
category of
The poor and
There is a
shortage
Of bananas
Which reminds
me
The swallows
did not
Return this
year
To their Romas
Under my roof
Americans killed
them
In their bloody
wars
Stalin cleansed
The Cheka
Of Latvian
Sovereign kulaks
(The fists)
And dumbed down
And beat to
shit
Without
exception
All living
bodies
Horses
including.
*When in 1932 the poet’s grandfather (72) retired, he
bought a neglected country estate in hopes that he could spend his remaining
years raising horses. Unfortunately for him, Stalin’s factories had already
began to mass produce tractors that would replace horses. Intrigue, his wife,
ridiculed grandfather for his oldfashioned orientation and proposed that he
build a modern farm instead. Because at the time, 80%+ of the Latvian people
were still holders of family farms and used horses to plow their fields, they
were unfamiliar with the idea that a farm could be turned into a factory. Thus,
this effort, too, flopped. Intrigue then turned the assembly hall at the
entrance of the mansion into a reception room with two ornate floor to ceiling antique
clocks flanking the gathering place in the middle. Sadly, grandfather died
alone in a small basement room at the back of the house that was located next
to the closet that housed the mechanisms that ran the clocks upstairs. All that
remains today of granfather’s regard for horses is a story he wrote in 1880 at
the age of 20: ”A Horses’s Memories’’.
Misha was a
Village
alcoholic
Everyone knew
well
Once a Soviet
era
Country side policeman
Misha did
What he could
to
Avoid work
And to enjoy
his job
Became the star
at
Every village
Cocktail party
What with
The police car
Becoming
A vodka ferry
when
In early
morning hours
The wells ran
dry
It was only
then
Misha summoned
Stalin
To his side
As an
authority.
Sad to say
During one such
party
Misha’s partner
laid
His wife
Which is why
Misha punched
him
And was
Fired
forthwith.
Saving one’s
soul
By the side of
One’s coffin
(touch Misha’s
Folded cold
hands
Covered by
sister’s
Handkerchief)
Is not an
endeavour
Worth mention
Unless he had
The affection of
those
Who came to say
Good bye.
9 Livonia’s Cubed Wonderland http://www.artnet.com/artists/vik-muniz/weeping-woman-after-picasso-pictures-of-pigment-_2fTycNP0j3i-j_f648tGA2
When Tsarina Katerina I
Let Generalin Magdelina
Keep the pension of
Her husband (d. 1727)
She may
Or may not
Have done it
Intentionally
Knowing she could
Through Magdelina
Become1729
the mother
Creatrix
So to speak
OF raped over Latvians
from whose midst
She, Katerina,
—Become
By way of war—
A whore
Would emerge
200 years
Later1918
As a republic
Destined to be
Forever fucked
By its own orphans.
Today
(following failed
Armageddon I),
No one gives
Either Katerina
Or Magdalena credit
But erases
And belies
18th century
Latvian and
Russian history
For the sake of
A kingdom
On the Moon.
Instead,
A post-Soviet
‘renewed’ Latvia
(a subject province
Within
The European
Union)
A province that denies
its history
and its wood
But lets
Cityfolk in
Riga
Filled to overflowing
By Russian and
Latvian
Freeloaders
Fuck them up
again
To high heaven
of lies
And blow money
On fireworks
And military
parades
With swimming
In old grease
Abram tanks
Made in America
And
advertisements
Calling for
A UNITED
LATVIJA,
STIPRA VALSTS,
While celebrating
A its 100th
Anniversary
Year
Remembering
nothing.
A 100 years ago
There was still
Some pretention
that Latvians
Had ancient roots
And to prove it
Most children knew
A 100 folk songs.
Today
(become
subjects of
The European
Union)
There are none
Such children
But ‘beatrich’
Rappers with
”Too much money
in the bank”
History has been
Assimilated into
A faked story
The past is
Like God
Who returned
But no longer needed
Was killed.
Nine tenths of
The luddies
Who once lived
Where I live now
Have been driven
Off the land
Into cities
Where pornography
(Big screen
In everyone’s
Bedroom
Adam saying to Eve:
I love you,
I need you,
I want you
To sit on my face
At least until I get a raise
And hire the Great
Whore Babylon
And fuck her
In her face.
Never mind
The ‘blessed’
Violent men
And women
Of government
fame
Who curse
With conviction
All that is Russian
Including
Tsarina Katerina
Who Tsar Peter
Took from
General Sheremetev
And
(To restore her dignity)
Married.
Among the dismissed
To kingdom Moon
(By the post-Soviet
Latvian government)
Are my greatgrandfathers
Greatgranmothers
To the 5th generation
Put to the stake
As surely
As the Pope
Fried ”live”
Jan Huss the Ludd
While the holy father
Of a fictitious
Holy Roman Empire
(Reduced thesedays
To a fictitious Latvia)
Listened to him
Screeming
Spat and said:
”Enjoy your LuckLaima=Karma,
Brother.
10. A Kebab of Lamb
s
When I returned
To Latvia
(after a 51 year absence)
I was surprised
To hear
Teenagers
(Who came visit me
Looking for summer jobs)
Ask:
What are you
Doing here?
Why are you here?
The poet’s
reasons
Were a mystery
to them
They had no
memory
Their parents
Knew no history
to tell
Was such
ignorance
An ”induced defense”
By small RNAs?
The young had
Never heard
Any murmurings
Of their
fathers
Or screams of
mothers
At the tear
Of the vulva.
In St.alin’s
Paradise
They had been
Shelled out
Oily as a pit
Of a rotten
avocado
In America
I had to let
The questions
Become a question
I had to ask myself.
Only after leaving Riga
And moving to live
In the countryside
Did I realize
How faked up
The rebirth of Latvia was
And how pertinent
The question.
The youths
Like the magots of
Blue flies
What with
Their government
Jumping at the chance
To become of service
To the CIA
Peddling itself
To a forelorn people
As a renewed
Government elite
Feeding on the decaying flesh
Of their
Debrained
Mothers and fathers.
To this day
The US embassy in Latvia
Smirks and flies
In celebration
Of my people’s humiliation
The rainbow flag
With that of
US’s own
On gay day
Parade.
Having persuaded
The sloshheads of Riga
To join in solidarity
With homosexuality
The emabassy
May well smirk:
With craniums emptied
of memories
Their gut disenboweled
And the innocence
Of the young
Shredded into rags
Adorning scarecrows
The CIA arose
Like Jesus
On the bones of
John the
Baptist
(The Forerunner of Jesus)
On the remains
Of the KGB
A spotles shadow
On the other side of
Screams of pain
Coming from
Thieves
Deemed unworthy of having
Their
Pain remembered*.
*The poet believes that thieving is as natural to humans
as it is to a hungry magpie https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1neI5sQGPcU , and
that the two thieves who were crucified along with Jesus were, indeed,
blameless and ‘framed’ even more so than Jesus. This is not to say that
thieving by humans is desirable if one wishes to become part of Divinity, which
is given to consciousnes to become. To fail to become concious of this
potential, may in fact condemn a human to forfeit his/her one lifetime to
eternal anonymity.
The vaccinations
Against pain
Were by way
Of orgasms
Induced by
Sodomization
Or a knife
Up one’s arse:
After the blood
And screams
One knew
There
Had been
Pain, death
And whatnot
But was
Made forget it
By multiple
Anal orgasms
And gratuitous gifts of welfare
Catalyzed out of
Decaying Divinity.
To the
American-Latvian
CIA agents
Whether from
Chicago
Or Boston
The Romas*
*Romas were homes, camps, or hubs of the forest people
such as Robin Ludd, aka Hood, around which, turned the Sun and the daily life
of a community. Though Catholic Christian dogma has monopolized the place name,
it retains a presence in ourspeech through derivatives such as ‘rite’,
‘ritual’, ‘recite’, ‘rithm’, ‘rise’, ‘ring’, ‘run’, ‘return’, ‘round’, tote,
etc.
of
Their forebears
Are only mounds
Of dirt
In the middle
of
A potato field
left over
From
Amelioration of
the land
By Soviet
robots
To make room
For a pigfarm
Or turning
Rivers into
Straight
ditches
The young
Saw no sense
To ‘father’ or
‘motherland’.
They preferred
America or
Elvis
Celebrate his
crotch
Sing
‘Hound Dog’
And called
Their forebears
Ever subtler
‘Rooster’s
Song’*
One for
children
(*”Where goest
thou,
Where goest
thou
Rooster mine?
I go to awaken
The village
maids
Three times
acrowing....”)
Leaving the
celebration of
Early morning
love rituals
On styrofoam
filled mattresses
In bandoned
garages
To sex starved
Madonnas https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GgDxv0Qg_Rg&index=8&list=LLES-7C7fziL5AZvxlj_EHVg .
The wonted
‘Singing
revolution’
Of the Baltic
Nations
Turned out to
be
CIA propaganda
On behalf of
The next
occupation.
Fucked up NATO
‘heroes’
Trained for war
On training
missions
In lands
They do not
belong in.*
*As in Hitler’s Germany, the Nazis in the Baltics today
are a creation of CIA sponsored goversnments (its memberhip tecruited from
among American-Latvian and NATO-Latvian aģents), even as native Latvians are
encouraged to ignore and lose memory of the history of their homeland in favor
of ‘western valuess’ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2JkhpZCjdew .
Though the ‘baricades’ (of 1991) expressed real emotions
and desires of Latvians to renew their extinguished nation, the intellect of that
desire was sponsored and cme tobe represented by western intelligence agencies
and quislings seeking employment and a living wage. There was no follow through
or critique by a Latvian government, and by 1993, one protested the ‘renewal’
with suicide https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Freedom_Monument at the foot of the
Freedom monument https://timenote.info/lv/Adolfs-Bukis-01.01.1935 The suicide note of the sacrifice was said to
be of no import and its content has never been revealed. The Blue priests of the
‘renewed’ (but not sovereign) Riga governed exLatvia were put on the move with
banners wawing https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jj4g5O8w28U
The Black
horseman of
The Post Soviet
Latvian government
(Re: poverty
Unemployment
Emigration
Depopulation
Alcoholism
Forest
decimation...)
Was loosed
By the
Riga based
Saeima of
Government bred
Paraisitic
wasps
That scorcheded
the countryside
And left it to silently
Die.
Erasure of
memory
Was spread
Over the minds
of
The survivors
of
A once nation
As aspider’s
web
Hung with
Dried out
bodies of flies
Of course,
The degree of
Sadism employed
Is a Top secret
Of the Latvian
Government:
Dissent is denied
With loud
Public ceremonies
Where licking of
Of fake documents
And books
Takes place
With erotic intensity.
When the 100th
Anniversary
Of the last 100 years
Was celebrated
history was neglected
In favor osf
History as porn
Exuded
By Bruxells and Riga.
In ‘renewed’
PostSoviet Latvia
History is
Like a kebab of lamb
Turning
On a Viking’s spit.
11 The Last Scene
What is the sense
Of living on
Earth’s blind
Made-in-America
Civilization
When America
Lost of mind
Bombs in hand
Uncle Sam’s
Finger poking up
Every Latvian
Government employed
Shits arse
Inspires cries of:
Poke me more,
America !
”We belong to
The West
In my neck of
The wood
Silence reigns
No cries of
”Yooo-hoooo !”
From berry pickers
Mushroom gatherers
Ululates across
The cranberry marsh
But the bare
Whisper
Of a wind
Swings in the trees
Awaiting
Baba Yaga’s iron teeth
The chain saws of
The executioners
In Bruxell’s,
Moscow’s
Washington’s
Or Riga’s hire.
ReAl’democratic’-politic rules
The land
Where luddies
Once spoke
The gentlest language
On Earth:
Dear this
Dear that
Instead*
*The Latvian language (a language of a people who give
evidence of coming of tribes that used to make
home in the wood) suggests that it is of a people who are a remnant of
an aboriginal population that went extinct in the Middle ages with the aurochs https://www.fossilhunters.xyz/disappeared-species/aurochs.html .. both
of which (auroch and homo sapiens)
‘animals’ were taken down in the fierce battles between the Western and
Eastern orthodox Christian churches and their secular sponsors. Despite its
rugged nature, the environment of the wild also nurtures https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QF_TI35SjbQ , and
enables the evolution of a language in which every noun can be endeared and
verb gentled. This language—now subject to the cynical environment of concrete
encased cities which nurture caprious egoes, is becoming as extinct as the wild,
the wood and its divine inhabitants.
A song of mutes
Begs to hear
Itself sing
Ln a nightmare
Even so
The survivors
Are shouted down
By shithead millionaires
Billionaire
Politicians
Media sucking up
The radiations
Of shit
Up the stratosphere
All who hog
The news
With praisies and whines
For a U.S. and NATO
Sponsored
Genocidal democracy.
Not only
The language
Of fathers
And lullabies
of mothers
Is forgotten
Cause for Anger
Is denied
As hate
And love
Is fucked up
By the rabid
City ill contents
Working for
Vulture ministries.
.................
The dreams and hopes
Of refuge seekers and
Exiles
Finding again
A home in
A wannabee homeland
Are lost in
The deep dusk of
Well aged
Wine-dark dream
That as
The steps of
A Maya pyramid
With a mob of
Emigrants on its steps
amassing
Come into sight
At the 11th hour
And find me
Sitting next to
My deceased brother
Confessing to him
My loss of fortune
As if he can help
When he shakes his head
And tells me
He temembered nothing
Of the tale
How I saved the painting
With the girl
From Capri island
With the jug of water
on her head
As the noise of war
Contested the August heat
All around
And the wounded crowded
What used to be
Our bedroom
We climb fown
The pyramid
Cross the street
Enter the throat of
The city
Find my apartment
Where suddenly
I remember
I have promised
To pick up
My Anima
At work at 11.
The clock shows
5 minutes past.
To my surprise
I cannot remember
Anima’s number
John is no help
And though dead
Remains a know nothing
Psychologist.
We rush
To my car.
I get it started
But its headlights
will not turn on.
I cannot drive
I fear the police
An arm of
The fake post Soviet
regime
Which is why
I pull to the curb
And call my cousin
Anita (also deceased).
Perhaps she
Who once pushed my carriage
Can help.
Anita
Replies:
”You remember me
For being
A kind barren
Lesbian
Why should I have
Animas number?
Wait for her
To call you.”
Why don’t you know
You have no wife?
You did not
Fuck up children either.
Call Joan of Ark
The milkmaid
Whose womb
The Pope reamed
With sticks of fire
She saved France
Did she not?
She will flinch
From the sight of
Our Latvia’s intestines
Are being devoured
By Latvian hyenas.”
Then Anita’s voice
Darkened worse:
”Your sister
Full of pickled
Christian righteousness
Could have tried
save something of
save something of
Her grandfather’s fortune
Left a road marker
At her grandmother’’s
Birthplace
But took what
She called
Her ‘property’
To America
Trusting the Letts
To survive
Fishing for trash and
Lampreys”.
I nodded my head
Astonished by
The bubble of blisters
On my brain.
With American exceptionalism
Handy in seconding
Lilith’s animus
Her faked up
Christian love
Let her freely bless
Everyone with guilt
And left the road
littered
With Babes in the wood
Collateral damage
Not one her doing
My brother and I
Sit entombed
In my car
By the curb
I turn on the radio
And am surprised
To hear voices sing
Tchaikovski’s
”1812 overture”
Opening hymn
(Mighty
Lord, preserve us from jeopardy.
Take Thee now our faith and loud crying in penitence.
Grant victory o'er our treacherous and cruel enemies
And to our land bring peace.
O mighty Lord hear our lowly prayer,
And by Thy shining holy light.
Grant us, O Lord, peace again.
O mighty Lord hear our prayer
and save our people
Forever, forever!)
Take Thee now our faith and loud crying in penitence.
Grant victory o'er our treacherous and cruel enemies
And to our land bring peace.
O mighty Lord hear our lowly prayer,
And by Thy shining holy light.
Grant us, O Lord, peace again.
O mighty Lord hear our prayer
and save our people
Forever, forever!)
I recall
Though only vaguely
The Lord’s and
King’s age
And His murder* https://www.lonelyplanet.com/england/travel-tips-and-articles/barons-battles-and-bad-king-john-the-real-magna-carta/40625c8c-8a11-5710-a052-1479d27608dc .
*The poet’s view is that King John and John the Baptist
were murdered to bring about our whitewashed age of secular Jesuit led
today by Pope Francis ‘Christianized’ democracy for the wealthy (princes,
barons, hedge fund managers, sex offenders, etc.)
The pheromones
Of Lady Death
Fill my nostrils
She comes to the window.
I roll it down.
She hands me a beaker
Filled wine.
I smell nutmeg
My knees buckle
I see me
Fall into a fault
Of freshly plowed earth.
The air fills with
Seagull screams
Come gather worms
And free me
Of my flesh.
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