jj jackman and the Truth will set you free - index
ciao cherida 5 jj jackman 8/09/2005 Breast deep in the cheia* In the center of my Pantanal** Shortly beyond heel grasping brejo*** In my jacare**** infested gray brown water Egret and spoonbill hovering above Like attractive vultures This is my river of life And you were my temporary savior So powerfully on the scene And now you are missing i have been exiled by my fellow modern bards.... like Peter Jennings with the news their truth must be entertaining their truth must carry an agenda their truth can never be unbiased their truth can no longer withstand purity and they too have passed away i am left to marinate in this murky terrifying breathtaking marshland, alone the truth of which i spoke could have been theirs as well but it was not properly flavored for their palate not sprinkled with falsehood nor seasoned with fashionable lies nor salted with salt that lost its savor i had exposed to them a truth with which only i am afflicted they have strictly reminded me that i have exposed truth that is not common to all men, my truth was untruthful to them, my truth was harmful, my truth was not sufficiently entertaining curves flowing in vermillion an overturned plastic vehicle with large black wheels tubside, abandoned by the child... long pink eared Swiss chocolate rabbit with limbs below a surface reclining on a white towel bar unaware of twisted and silver coated thin green cardboard boxes open and missing their contents flat black small circular mass, happy, rid of its itching host four blue cyclonic clouds stare quietly forshadowing amidst large tapering scarlet layers oh modern poets your quiet humming your senseless droning provides vacant consolation! dulling the senses of its hearers lulling the unrighteous to a numbing slumber like the noise of the large GBC shredder obliterating revealing documents! Breast deep in the cheia* In the center of my Pantanal** Shortly beyond heel grasping brejo*** In my jacare**** infested gray brown water Egret and spoonbill hovering above Like attractive vultures This is my river of life And you were my temporary savior So powerfully on the scene And now you are missing Like Ezekiel in an even more unspiritual time 3When the man went out eastward, and the line in his hand he measured a thousand cubits and he passed me through the water, water to the ankles 4And he measured a thousand, and passed me through the water water to the knees. and he measured a thousand, and passed me through water to the loins. 5And he measured a thousand, and there was a torrent which I was not able to pass; for the water had risen water to swim in; a torrent that could not be passed. Breast deep in the cheia* In the center of my Pantanal** Shortly beyond heel grasping brejo*** In my jacare**** infested gray brown water Egret and spoonbill hovering above Like attractive vultures This is my river of life And you were my temporary savior So powerfully on the scene And now you are missing i have been exiled by my fellow modern bards.... they have raised love to a higher level a b h e r a n t a p p a r e n t they have disdained the ancients better themes they have…. like static.... specs of dust better than: a graceful unattractive elder molding an ungraceful youthful subject only to merge to a moment’s perfection and thusly the union dissolved! better than: two lovers,trying to reconcile their background differences, they struggle, they consummate, they die! they have disdained the ancients preferring vaporous themes and laud features to minors and scorn the Master! they have declared in silence “you are not welcome here, keep quiet - shhhhhhhh - can't you see someone else is speaking do not hamper our public meetings with your unsettling prediction do not return anymore!” pointing to me simultaneously they shout “truth is like water you dunce! it seeks its own level.... truth is like water you dunce! it has been known to evaporate....” Breast deep in the cheia* In the center of my Pantanal** Shortly beyond heel grasping brejo*** In my jacare**** infested gray brown water Egret and spoonbill hovering above Like attractive vultures This is my river of life And you were my temporary savior So powerfully on the scene And now you are missing*full flood waters of the flat mostly Brazilian Pantanal January to February, pronounced: shay yah **a large plain in South America – 1/3 the size of France that floods for three months out of the year ***a particularly tenacious mud unique to this area, pronounced: bray joe ****crocodile, pronounced: ya cah ray' NB Pronunciations courtesy of Robert Kolde