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About The North Coast times-eagle. (Wheeler, Oregon) 1971-2007 | View Entire Issue (July 1, 2001)
PAGE 9 NORTH COAST TIMES E A G L E, JULY 2001 A MOMENT OF LUCIDITY THE UNKNOWN IS KNOWN Sounds of silence breaking my soul Repeated thoughts invade my mind reminding me of days and days to come Why they happen and not disappear Broken promises fill my heart tearing this sadness — Rushes with guilt Time has come and come again Unpure thoughts to overwhelm curse me and break me I do the same Take all these lies and unjustified ways My karma has come and come a long way I feel it's time to release this pain -JACKIE SMITH MICHAL TOCHINNI 1948-2001 Your voice clear, intelligent & warm vibrating far out beyond the shrill babel of this noisy planet to reach other sentient ears among the oscillating spheres as our introduction - michael M c C usker ADDRESS SEARCH And you will find me any night now, try at the motherless sky. com How dare you interrupt me.com Schizophrenia needs some room to live if you're going to stay detached from it. Grounds for sanity and the freedom of this client. If he takes his medication and doesn't get into trouble with police very often. What ideology promotes one of the many schizos to be able to think enough to take care of themselves and not endanger anyone or themselves? -PAUL EVALT (9E2X) A TENDED FIRE Dark was coming on, a cold rain falling. The low glow of sunset held no heat and then was smothered under black cloud. The last of the maples' flicker and flare had been snuffed out, scattered by the wind, drenched in the downpours, drowned in the run-off. No live ember remained. The fire was out. Then we see the lights of the hall across rain-soaked pastures. When we arrive the doors are open, the radiating heat invites us in. A host of scents and sounds welcomes us: wet wool, split wood, food set out for the meal, the click and pop of the wood stove, laughter, young voices, old voices, those in between, blending in the murmuring warmth of common speech. This is no wild fire that devours all in its conflagration, PAUL EVALT (9E2X), 'CATS IN BOTTLES' no blaze set to fill the arsonist's destructive need, no artifact of gravity like the hot molten core at earth's center, but a tended fire. And while anger may spark us out of smoldering complacency, or the lightning strike of inspiration ignite creation, or passion burst our bodies into joyous flame, it is slow-stoking love that sustains us through the cold, the dark, that keeps this fire burning. -JIM DOTT A PASTORAL REFLECTION "My mind is so big, but my brain is so small." -CARSON WHISTLER (AGE 4) I'm sorry I was ever born.com No doubt you can always find me any time, any where i GOLDEN MOMENTS A blazing path swathes the Columbia even as we drive westward. in the damned world -ARTHUR HONEYMAN -FRANZ WRIGHT GIFTS For every tear you cry for a friend, I promise you love that will never end. For every smile you put in a heart, I grant you a star that will never part For every fight you walk away from, I give you peace in endless sum. For every day you cherish and hold, I swear your heart will never grow old. For every loved one you say goodbye to, I promise you kindness, blooming anew For every time you comfort a child, I promise no hate, and anger ever mild. All is not peaceful in my being (not the way it's supposed to be) as the moon skims above the ridge its beams shining down the valley floor to light up the shadows of images moving noiselessly across the faded landscape that comes with night under a lunar sky. Who knows why this phenomenon is? Possibly, a wolf howls somewhere (in Orlando?) and stalks hapless souls in the wake of the waxing Luna. Or, maybe, there's a nocturnal emptiness - a void in the night - where hollow cravings reside. Joy is out there somewhere, but not here, and a bat's caught behind a screen window! -ARTHUR HONEYMAN For every person you lift from the floor, I'll close no windows and open a door For every wish you make on a star, I promise your loved ones will never be far. If you think I'm offering a perfect life, Look close at your heart and examine your strife. All these things are already yours — Count your blessings and let your soul soar -JESSI DUNKIN Here, over bloodstained craggy barren soil the tattered banner waves, high above the final battlegrounds, where hundreds slaughtered lie in eternal sleep, their blood tinting the dirt. The banner flies held up by the wind witness to desolation until time itself tears the fabric remnants from the pole and everything crumbles to dust. -MARGIT LIA BOWLER B ureau C ats C oup D' etat All credit cards nationally canceled, America's Elm Street shades are drawn. Women and children, under pastel bedding, lie stunned before TV static and snow. Beer bellies soured and gaseous, boneheads under hardhats are crushed as Military/lndustrials foreclose on the land. Now matriarchal scout cookies are crumbled. An age of GIVE ME GIVE ME ended. -BILL BERTIN ARTEEST zombies don't screw for long she screams in my mind they bark out orders to bigger muscles in odious chicanery with absurd strutting all these civilians are or aren’t targets for the stupid military goons lording it over each other wtiat bastards would like to blast the world to hell simply because they confuse each other in nationalistic furor what do they love what do they respect but they deify their own death wish ignorant selfsameness causes brutal death cascades of conscription, forecasts of power to dignified domains call off the lycanthropy of the races wing the titans to whispering angels you won't let the world go bad just powler it up till the sky bursts and the earth cracks paper and minerals aren't edible do I wonder if you are poisoned doves are flooding the sky with your souls' inverted anger, avarice and greed dreadful rages all pass with the cosmic wind do we all vibrate complete or are there dreadful mistakes in high places attempting to roar the flowers to death and taxes nifty little girls with their endowments mapped and their minds expanded courageously conceal tyrannical bullmen still snuffling and searching for the right vibration -CHRIS KRAMER