What a blast from the past! We forget a lot of important stuff as we age - especially during decades of stressful political tension.

Last year, I was deleting and reorganizing 15 Years of Stored EMAILS and came across one I had sent to myself - containing a poem that I had totally forgotten I had written back in Sept 2003. It was inspired during a close convergence of Planet Mars to Earth and, for months, I repeatedly studied Mars and our Luna together in the night sky from my bedroom window. That long celestial event prompted many strands of thought while I lay in wait of the Sandman every night.

My awareness of the USA's long slow descent into oligarchy during Reagan's, Bush I's and Clinton's terms, increasingly worried me - in spite of my being a very active citizen in an informed and vibrant Seattle political scene during those 25+ yrs. During Bush II's first awful term, tight media censorship prevailed - but the outrageous propaganda and Orwellian language was a flyin' on Fox News 24/7. Luckily, I spared myself that source of torture because I gave up watching TV news in the 1996 when I discovered the early emerging independent news and media providers on the Internet.

I routinely watched particular alternative on-line news every evening, especially after the 9/11 catastrophe. What I viewed Sept 4, 2003 disturbed me when POTUS acted out that landing spectacle on the air craft carrier to announce that "The War In Iraq Is Over." But it wasn't.

That staged over-the-top political PR opp, caused a spontaneous overwhelming turbulence of many previous night musings, worries and images - upon which my rational world view was based up until that moment. An anxious inspiration took me over and this poem emerged from my angst - and these feelings of dread have plagued me ever since. Even 14 years later, I have yet to shake off the grief I carry as my nation slides from neocon/neolib oligarchy into autocratic fascism.

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9/4/2003

How I get through these Mars' nights

McLuhan's and Packard's night ghosts engage me regularly.
Solemnly, with my eyes on bright Mars and lovely Luna above,
I can recall ominous old college hall lectures even at 3 am.
40+ years have perfected the subtle over/under/curved or sideways
news broadcast pitches, slickly spun for viewer consumption.

Skillfully, the hidden persuaders have indeed achieved oracled mastery,
even as we indiscriminately digest what is offered in blind comfort.
At this moment an orchestrated medium projectile vomits
a neocon extravaganza from the live set of a WMD US aircraft carrier -
a splendid Deus ex Machina production a la Karl Rove.

Freedom's victory over the Axis of Evil (aka Deniers of Western Banks) is the theme.
Good patriotic citizens rise to their feet, palms on chests, lips in unison -
"I pledge allegiance and malfeasance . . . . . . with liberty and justice for all."
They're disconnected from the bloody world invaded and bombed in their name.
The razzle dazzle scene captures them, evoking bravos and "More eye candy, please."

Barbara Bush has the right idea - beautiful minds do not stay beautiful,
once exposed to horrific images of ragged body parts and US collateral damage.
Shakespeare knew of this - he portrayed a visual truth as Lady Macbeth repeatedly
washed her hand to take away the damned spot of murderous reality.
Today, freedom provides many fine products to sanitize fouled Bush and Cheney minds.

Every American shopper must keep buying the intoxicating spoils of war rewards, too.
While the intense spell of red Mars brings me visitations of long gone media prophets
on fake war victory post-production nights, the beautiful minds of the pampered 1%
sleep ever so safely removed from depleted uranium and chemical weapons -
babes of ignorance on a micromanaged planet doomed ultimately to mirror Mars' sterility.