Dawn of a New Love

Because nothing represents true love quite like Victorian stylized "circus porn"

By: Gus Victoria

The dawn of a new love breaks

Through the shadowy veil of sorrow,

Banishment, self-imposed, on a captive heart,

To love none other,

And tend with salt the wound,

Joy in grief,

Freedom in loss,

Madness in reverse.

A heady draught into the cloistered mind

The light of the new day brings

Clear vision,

Banishing poignant remainders

Of past battles fought,

The field is made anew,

Fertile, to grow new blossoms

To bear new fruit,

It is a glorious day,

As the sun rises

Shadows vanish,

And on this foundation

A new house is built,

Sanctuary for both,

Love, the mortar laid with a vow,

Witnessed by friends,

Blessed by all,

This was the day he was meant to live,

The night she was meant to banish.

Because Dinosaurs That's Why

By: Gus Victoria

My past few posts if you were paying attention, and why wouldn’t you be, were about serious subject matter. They displayed an anger, righteous in my eyes, with the state of the world and our society. Today I wanted to shift gears a little bit and stray away from the poetic and lyrical yet still retain some sense of seriousness. Then I realized it wasn’t working. Why wasn’t it working? I’m still angry right? The words should come to an experienced poet without too much trouble. What was I doing wrong? A struggle must have balance. Everything must. Outside of love, faith, and hope it is never good to let one thing so consume you. And even with those three you must retain perspective.

So with that in mind I decided instead to write about dinosaurs. Why dinosaurs you might ask yourself. Because it makes sense dammit! Well for me it does, there is not a time in my childhood where I do not remember having easy access to a book on dinosaurs. I was a strange child so these books often were more like encyclopedias, but it was ok, I could tell you the difference between velociraptor and deinonychus. I was probably the only 8 year old kid in Northern California that could correctly pronounce Opisthocoelicaudia and Pachyrhinosaurus correctly and laugh at you when you couldn’t. I was the real-life version of the annoying kid in Jurassic Park before the movie. For the duration of my childhood, until about the time I hit high school I thought I would grow up to be a paleontologist. It seemed a given. Now I can’t tell you why that did not happen because frankly I don’t know. I found other interests and pursued them eventually getting a degree in religious studies. What a turn right?

I do not regret that particular path I took. I very much enjoy what I studied and am proud to have a degree that fulfills my deep desire to learn. It may not be marketable, but it makes me happy. Can you truly put value on that? All this notwithstanding, dinosaurs are my balancing force. They awaken in me memories of youth and hope and joy. I was always excited to talk about these giant animals that died out millions of years before. Though I have forgotten much over the years in the way of facts and pronunciations thankfully I can still call upon those feelings when thinking about my beloved lizards. And I do.

The topics I am passionate about and that I have written about recently are not those youthful, innocent topics. They are not ones we can see with open, wide-eyes full of wonder and optimistic expectations. They are problems that require much sacrifice, much pain, much grief. To constantly carry those feelings. To constantly feel that and nothing else is to risk numbing oneself to the world. When one ceases to feel and becomes numb he can no longer empathize. When that happens we cease to be part of the human community. We become disconnected. Without communion there is no change. You become an empty howling voice in the wilderness, more a danger than an aid.

So when I feel myself get to that point where I am consumed with anger or indignation. When I want to scream to the fours corners of the world at the injustice of it all until I feel nothing I remember my old friends. Diplodocus and Styracosaurus; T-Rex and Ornithomimus, Ankylosaurus and all the others.  I remember also the coolest dinosaur of all, the Arthur Fonzarelli of the the animal kingdom; Iguanodon. Ayyy!

What are your dinosaurs?

Walls

By: Gus Victoria

Walls,

Separate you from humanity,

The xenophobia born sick of paranoia

Kills the man you were

And the man he could be,

Your racist Minutemen march on,

Brain-dead clones of a system,

We step back and resort to vandalism,

The land you stole,

Polk’s boys came and rode,

Killed us then killed each other,

We lost to deed the land we stole first,

Blood rages at injustice

Remembering an ancient home,

An ancient home,

A distant Rome,

A fantasy bourne on tattered hopes,

That never was more than pride,

The walls you build

Isolate non but you,

The walls you build,

Always let ideas through,

Freedom cannot be barred,

No matter the fucks that stand guard,

Humanity cannot be murdered,

Only isolated by pride,

And dead by suicide.

Walls

Caesar's Coin

By: Gus Victoria

Give to Caesar his coin,

Keep your guns,

The Horde is at the door,

The neighbor you know no more,

Claim the 2nd, plead the 5th

Liberty is just a myth

You’re a puppet without strings,

You can't resist

Holding signs

You drown in ignorance,

You beg for more,

Your bread

Your circus

You humble whore,

Take the dagger

Take the pill

But leave those bastards

on Capitol Hill,

The State kills,

On the altar you built,

They raise the banner

You hallowed,

With patriotic fervor you cry,

Under their Freedom you die.

The Centurion's Rebuke

By: Gus Victoria

I see your righteous spirit

Empty and destitute

Suckling at the golden teat,

Content prostitute

Vileness you spit

Like poison

And call it virtue,

Flickering images you idolize

Murderers you lionize,

Pimps and whores,

Hand and in hand,

On Freedom’s shores.

Drink deep from the rivers of inequity,

Take your ship,

Spread your filth,

The ocean is vast,

Cannot contain the disease,

Not the noble past,

Death comes fast

Empires rise,

Empires fall,

Wisdom fails,

Greed sends us all to hell.

To hell.

Wanderer by the Shore

By: Gus Victoria

The eddies of time

Swirl irreverent,

Ripples of chance

Break the plane

Crafted by a Creator

Beyond mortal ken,

Understood by none

That still draw breath,

On the shore of reason,

The lake of storms

Beckons, a lover, so sweetly,

Confusion clothed in passion

To make sense of diffusion,

No craft to sail,

No home to defend,

The wanderer by the shore

Marches on forever more.

Chasing the Fairy #16

By: Gus Victoria

Futile endeavor

To chase ghosts

That haunt the periphery

Of guilt-ridden experience,

Joy to dust turned,

Reflected in such  a ghastly mirror

That doth create the shade

Of a once-brilliant light,

A mad play of memory

Conspiring to move against

A positive future

For the wrath of the spectre

That never was.

Lost and confused,

The ring buried,

The church forgotten,

The vows unspoken.

Brief Reflection on Race

By: Gus Victoria

No one is born to hate. We are taught that. The color of one’s skin or his place of birth cannot be an obstacle to the fulfillment of his potential in a society that truly values freedom and equality. Neither should her gender prevent her attaining the heights to which her heart and soul in lofty dreams soars. We live in a special place in a very special time. Each of us has the ability and the duty to march toward this dream that has been in the hearts of wise men for ages past. That the content of one’s character is the standard by which he is judged by his peers. Our prejudices have no place in this noble future. The black man and the white man disappear. They become simply man. The common bonds of love which every heart knows intimately should serve to bind us as a people; man, woman, old or young. Learn to love your enemy and you cease to have an enemy. This is the most difficult task we can possibly hope to accomplish. And yet, people have lived and died doing just that. By their example giving us hope and shaming us to act.

There is much injustice in this world. We have become inured to it. To such a degree that the above paragraph is seen as a naive empty call to ideals that don’t exist in the harsh reality we live in. They seem to be a waste of time. It is so much easier to revert to anger. Anger is more visceral. Like a fire fed oxygen it is fueled by actual wrongs committed. Unfortunately it is a fire we cannot control. It becomes then a conflagration in our hearts that soon turns to hate. That hate might feel good at first. Especially if one is wronged, this hate can move us to actions to right that offense. They are wrong.

No wrong committed by hate can ever be corrected by more hate. Whether the hate comes from ignorance or injustice it remains a potent destructive force.

Education is our key to understanding.

Understanding is what we must attain. It will allow us to begin to halt the cycle of hate.

Yes, yes, this is all well and good. Words spoken by far wiser men than me.

“The evil that racism once was surely is no longer.

“We have evolved as a people, as a society.

“Why Gus, do you continue to point this out?

“You obviously, seek to divide!

“Racism is dead except by people like you who reverse it.

“Stop talking about it and it will go away!”

Would that it were as simple as that. Little more do I wish than to live in such a world where these thoughts on racism are mere fancy on my part. That the heritage of hate is one left far behind us. The truth screams that it is not so. The blood of innocents cries out that it is not so. The tears of those who must witness daily this reality of destructive prejudice are testament that it is not so.

Racism is real. It lives. It thrives. In this country. In this state. In this city.

Slavery of body was abolished many years ago, paid with the blood of millions and the tears of millions more. Who legislates slavery of mind and soul to ignorance? Who can free us from that?

The march continues...

      

Love Is (The True Divine)

By Gus Victoria

Love is easy.

Hate is hard.

Love creates.

Hate destroys.

We are not created to hate,

We are taught,

We are not born to kill,

We learn how,

Symbols mean nothing at birth,

Symbols mean nothing at death,

Words by other men

That sow hate,

Gather only a bitter harvest

Against our nature,

Like children, wise men wonder,

In awe at miracles,

Great and small

Of Creation,

Then, to them, there is not time,

No waste so great,

Than to expend an effort,

Any effort,

To hate.

For that is the fire that destroys

The joy,

The wonder,

The miracle of Creation.

God or gods matter little

Beyond the love you give,

For in that,

Not in hate,

Is the True Divine.

The Fallen

By: Gus Victoria

Death is no release

From a tortured prison

That knows no light,

Deep is the chasm

That engulfs the soul

Of the fallen,

The Nephilim are no more,

We stand alone

In the darkest night

We are the sentinels,

Luna shines on us

As only she can,

And in her soft embrace,

Her children,

We hunt.