tick tick tick went the clock  beat beat beat went my heart   bang bang bang went the gun

when is it okay to show your hand?  when are you allowed to speak your mind?  when is it permissible to state your case?  when can you really show your true colors?    how long does it take to bide my time?  do I immediately rest in peace or is there a restless period that precedes it?  how does the sublime exactly become the ridiculous and when, precisely, does mourning become electra?

sitting on a snowflake, waiting for the bands to come.  i think that my mind has done its time and that it is now time to move on.  but to what and where and when?

simple silence broken now by words conveyed

hardly spoken to one whose time had gone but somehow wrapped in magic

returned for a single chance to reconvene with its progenitor-

at then once creation done and set upon, the course, the course remains

for all to see not clearly, not fully, not simply but still

driven and replayed.

over and over and over and over again

as I was talking things over with king arthur he made a very interesting observation about life in camelot.  he told me that while all the knights believed they were of equal voice all about the table-round it was not actually true and had never been true.  he made them believe it in order to keep the peace until he had established complete command and control and then any individual dissenter would be dealt with by the rest of the table dwellers- a tooth for a tooth and an eye for an eye and a knight for a knight-he was then able to consolidate his power across the lands and make his word divine law in all places.  in all things of any importance he was king and lord.

that was then and this is now and I have no completed idea of whatever happened to the king but I do know now that all that he believed in and held dear has survived to this very day and is even indeed and in short thriving beyond what even arthur might have imagined in his wildest imaginings.

for today it is not as obvious but a much more insidious and in total completed type of control that the lord and king seeks to have and is developing over his subjects.  they do not even know in most moments  that they have in fact been assumed and consumed by the long fingers of the tightest control yet made possible.  of life and limb of living and dying of all that is of any even slight consequence to the masses does the magistrate now reign supreme and gladly and calculatingly so.

thus have we come and here do we roam to and rest upon.

all may not be well and all may or may not be lost but it stays stubbornly true that it has come to pass and come to stay.

we opened the gates and it is we who had brought the wolf then to our door and across our threshold and into the open hearth of our very abodes.

and it may now appear that there is no escape.