A.G.E's Joint

Push and pull Powerful add power Weak suffer And get pushed closer To the cliff. Catching traction, strength surges Survival against tides Violence meets violence In a never ending battle

Bliss. Such a strange word.  "...is a stage which is above any emotional state that is characterized as peace or happiness (feelings of enjoyment, pleasure, and satisfaction)." (Thanks, Wikipedia) In the context of the challenge, the word is set up as a carrot, urging the asses down the path, nobody realizing the distance between us and utopia never changes. Religions of all types use Bliss as an incentive. Follow this tenet or that and have everlasting ecstasy or something.  Not surprisingly, some people rebel against this. Thomas Paine was one of these. He railed mightily against organized religion stating: "All national institutions of churches, whether Jewish, Christian or Turkish, appear to me no other than human inventions, set up to terrify and enslave mankind, and monopolize power and profit." He wasn't quite an Atheist, but had such a large distrust of religious aritifice that "represented" God to the people. But then, he was suspicious of so...

It begins with A cry. Shock of light and cold After squeezing and pinching Landing on A sweet mound To sleep. It begins with A light From eyes inviting The effort to pull up After falling on A sweet mound To cry It begins with A fight Over what to do As the body grows Sweet mound To give It begins with A bite After shells are shed And the sweet mound Swells larger To please Now... It begins again....

Another log on the bonfire As they cuddled under his cloak She knew where it was going He knew how far. He said: "I want to hold your hand" And he adorned it with a star. "Will you marry me and be my wife?" Her face reflected that star "I would love nothing better from life." So many years gone by now Joy and pain Stitches in time On their tapestry Etched their faces Under a cloak As they face the bonfire.

Watching the colors Fade to away To white. Knowing I wouldn't Make it home. It didn't matter. Freed from the routine I greet my neighbor. Give a push. And at the Waffle House I pray for the waitresses To deliver my coffee Hot and fresh In the crush. The antipathy of anonymity Is long past. This isn't virtual life Only real life. Where we are Accountable, To ourselves And others.   And where when We feed each other We feed ourselves.