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jamjr
01-09-2007, 07:16 PM
Home

When the earth is ravaged and the animals are dying, a new tribe of people shall come unto the earth from many colors, classes, creeds, and who by their actions and deeds shall make the earth green again. They will be known as the warriors of the Rainbow -- Old Native American Prophecy



a ditched order of

buses vans and volkswagen sedans

day-glo green cherry azure blue and tan

line each side of the paved road with name-tags

from every state. they open into a plate of techni-color

to red carpet my arrival at the gates of a new dimension.

Welcome home brother, but i am too drum-founded to reply.

tag the main trail, worn by barefeet, skin contacting earth from

the energetic nomads who approach peace, leads me to my new

home out of that land, flatland. We love you, wafts from kitchens

strung up at seed camp, stationed, filtered water, boil to feed camp,

all who attend this national gathering. known as the warriors of the

rain-bow. those who peacefully assemble on the works of creation,

to passively pray for the destruction of babylon. thousands of dirty

wooks, tye-dyed puddles, dread-locked to skin, unshowered in the

woods for days, weeks or months, however much time they can.

take out what you bring in because the clean up crew stays

until there is no evidence that this gathering happened.

with a spoon and bowl the hippies eat for free,

no greed in necessity. anarchaic at the

center, for no leader signs a permit

to enjoy the fair weather.

no exchanging money,



a barter system works better

at bringing peace loving family together.

anyone with a belly-button is welcome to stay.

so many heads here, not dead but grateful for this

annual lifeline away from income and consumption to

become one with the land. swirling drums trade circular

rhythms around me until i am submersed into a pool of

open talent making sculptures out of mud to the buzz of

didgeridoos. the coming home feeling sets in as a sight

of Emily stones me. my best friend’s moment in mine,

the corners of our lips attached themselves to the

corners of our eyes. I love you, we choke,

creating tears so beautiful that they

prism a rainbow from the sun,

under the arc we hug two

experiences into one.

WanderingturnupII
01-11-2007, 06:00 AM
"When the beans are burning, and the High Holies are sniveling, there will come a tribe of people who care....sometimes....."


How's the rest of that ol' Ovens thing go? Hoka Hoka Hey Ho Hum?

jamjr
01-11-2007, 04:44 PM
Some of us weren't old enough to see the rainbows that have been around forever but that doesn't mean we can't be pushed and pulled and inspired by the ones we see today. The pot of gold has always been in the trees.