the peace-Warrior copy-2

 poem:                          the peace-warrior: Copy-2                                 2-24-10 © apeco


…my sullen fasting pace went-over thoughts

barely my knowing 100-miles after legs needs

plan-to-get-there 100 miles again some more

accomplishment on the north flowing shallows

of the south-Platte river,

of the great plains spaces

stopping to talk w those oil-drilling crews & werkors

                                  of weld county’s meager labor, no-union resources availing

             increased networks 1977 and to study hiring practices

upon the plains to hike the grasslands thru the plateaus

as those anti-mountain, industrious mining exponents

oil wells in earth, but of rocks along those ways

of cattle on cattle weight paths

smelling the corn silage feed and viewing the grooming

those plains for grains to grow furrows

somehow visuals of dust winds or dust devil phantoms

the “des Plaines” of surreality

                                                            knowns and constants

and fences ever-so-pertinent to and of space-Time essences

communicating en voce‘ FREE Leonard then onto

citizen-Inspector no vices @ Pantex

protests of the storing nuclear annihilation

aggressor weapons, processes

often times they told me “pits” before being sent to R-Flats

industry inroads of countryside grotesque enterprised

i  had hand painted my Van-1 & made my mileage a meagre din

then by 1988 Van-2, a replacement

for the same platitude of amplified “protest” while drive-Moving

and more painted expressions

upon the scoured & scraped then painted steel

but, these were memories of those secondhand essences put to

action 1973 thru 1983, when the “we-Boomer”

likening to building

bridges w.o. metals

                                        what was their excuse for copping-out when

the roads were raised & graveled & plied wider

theirs was endemics of where the forest cutters should-have-been-at

some of those sleaze[1] to despotic oasis the minds of des plaines

the clear-cutters could cop-an-attitude so fast they’d invite my encounter

houses not-so-wantonly fire-hazards as wood-use-is

a happening yet checking us-out-for-demised aptitude, my treks by vans went to foot

along more aligned no gasoline allowed miles, and food needs daily subsequence

the indige-Amer informing voices, too disappeared

some very officious awaiting first comments presaged

to mind-Scape’s edges

onto poetry sessions

from Scottsbluff to Amarillo

and more miles driving or on worn socks feet

many months dehydrated and weeks longing

1962 thru 1982 an end to thermo-Nuclear buildups 

for those mountains to be rockies

as the cottonwood’s plains had rivers to hike so freely

into protests at Pantex[2] processing plants of warheads

time and space again reconfigured by space & radiation

so much more each headspace entreaty pertaining

recognized as needing those killing-Wars

as reconfigured, by h-BOMbs building: the military

“exodus” the wanton time others spendt non-Peace: recognize’d

the waste from not-properly-stored realizable arrears

like those history contents of Carl Sagin’s study-Groups

on nuclear Winters’ who’s ears scorched an echo in resounding planet

contiguous configurations of human-deaths or of Life

and any conflagrations amassed none moreso than

the great Berkeley Hills-Piedmont 7-years later which

superceded “whatever” as theirs was a difference

commutations because ours was a method of communications

settled by the populous in contentious unsettled consciousness

not only not superior nor supra-precedent’s

but re-orienting monotony of wars-Killings

but overly protected formal placards stories and any or all

participations, not usurpations nor moralities of impertinence

in those stories against peace

the braggart’s tapered-off, when protests needed-to-be increasing

appeared as-persons-of knowing red-necked them back, too

then, afoot or driving back-now-turned and without

their petulance again, my own space-Time cosmic

to camp way-North of Amarillo, or not to have

to travel in ravines of days waiting

by-the roadway of roadsides in words-shared consciousness

and ergonomics in their efforts our socialized ways, only

dangling-Participles from ever over-wirked, minds

onto acquiesces transgressed-Remissions

my friends hearing all about remised, missions

accomplished, back in Boulder county coloradie


 rewritten 2-24-10 © apeco by “R” Addison @ de-alert apartment 


[1] Sleaze was every-where and yet the winds, missed not by musing

[2] the times in Amarillo were times w Texans–or texicans, since before mex-tex; many protests @ the

warhead assembly plant were fused w moviemaking living quarters—films of director Martin Scorsese–travel-travail hangouts to keep other geo-morphics knowing activists’ from becoming rednecks or truk-kor on-goings of transport & commerce; while, the gist of being arrested  was not to have to come back, even that, too; all was forced upon me until one time in 1977 or ’78 when I was allowed to enter and I asked and they answered in such a frugal, but fruitless analysis  “yes, super-bombs (being) built: here”! I hiked ‘palo duro‘ canyon before that became a state park—and, even since then, as well as the inset of hydrocarbon winters and yet, more hick language…




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