great and godly

Spawn of man and child of powers from without this plain of ours was she born there in a sty and forthwith began to cry. Long of wind and bright of features she was friend to many creatures her advice from a young age did rival that of mage or sage. Quick she grew bones long and strong and at her doorstep men did throng to catch a glimpse of her great beauty which she to hide let all to see. Business ventures made her rich but the stresses caused an itch wherefore she gave up such pursuits and took up dance and learned the flute. Inherent talent brought her fame but soon she stood in solemn shame for out beyond the baying crowd she spied a girl – a ragged lout. Then this wonder born of flesh did take into her well-stocked crèche such urchins as lived on the street in constant rounds swift and discreet. Much she gave to tending them to stopping here a dress to hem to stopping there a mouth to feed and there was so much worldly need that soon her riches all dried up and empty was her cornucup. Then a goddess saw her plight and filled it back up overnight and helped Yieryienda then to found a charity whose aim was sound whose purpose was to help the poor and pick them back up from the floor. Kind Yieryienda recognized the godliness in all the eyes that watched her there upon her bed that did support her until dead. Then she entered soon anon the great and godly pantheon where such warm souls tend to go after they've had their Earthly go. Please contribute to her cause and take a moment now to pause and say a thanks to Those Without whose goal is to spread love about.

​© americanifesto / 場黑麥

their immutable liberty

Let none rule another for no man is slave and let our detractors know we shall not cave to threat or to treaty for starving us out though signed by the highest of elected louts. Slavery destroys all that mankind stands for by trodding the weakest of weak to the floor and stealing their immutable liberty and stranding them in darkest foul misery. For to cast a man or a woman in chains for paltry short fleeting base financial gains is to become Evil (with capital E) to give up one's once-precious humanity. The body contains all – life freedom and pride – and if it is made a slave all those things die and if it is forced to work day upon day then rightly the person enslaved will then say: Enough with this madness I want nothing more than to be set free through the flung open door that long has entrapped me in darkest despair with sores on my ankles and lice in my hair. So join us in cursing this failure of Right and march in the daytime and march in the night and stand up for justice for no one else will rid of this society its darkest ill.

​© americanifesto / 場黑麥

spring springs anew

There stands in the middle of Krukuv Surround a small short unseemly well-kept earthen mound. Dug out at the founding of this our homeland by a pair of gentle industrious hands upon it grow blossoms of white orange blue – the first ones to spring up when Spring springs anew. 'Twas there that wise Grigov (Man Krukuv, of old) did first sink his spade into our lovely vold to dig out a place wherein to store his crop protected from wind rain and thick muddy slop. A tunnel he lifted within which to put great armfuls of tubers and wild beet-root then kept right on tunneling slowly anon until his bones wearied and his strength was gone. He took then a maiden of the Yaelong folk who bore him three children from her fertile yolk whom he set to digging in the earthen larder so that there'd have plenty should times they turn harder. And things then turned sour as he knew they would but they had deep piles of well-fermented food with which they sustained themselves happy and strong until better fortunes came strolling along. Please come soon and visit fine Krukuv Surround and marvel at what can be done underground when minds they are focused on one single task – on building a nation that this long could last.

​© americanifesto / 場黑麥

with righteous fanfare

Unearthed from some tundra in a mountain pass is a woolly rhino of world-stunning class, an albino specimen fully intact with food in her guts and with young in her tract. Her size is diminutive she is a dwarf and with righteous fanfare was moved to a wharf and transported quickly lest her tissues thaw and we lose the residues trapped in her maw. Once probed measured sequenced to the nth degree will her pelt and nashorn once more day's light see. It's true she was pregnant when her life did end way up by what's now called as the Sharp Northern Bend where our river Yalung does make a quick right in its snowed-in valley – a curious sight. A shepherd did spy her while out on the vold and knew in an instant that her bones were old and called up the b'andzar to tell of the find then set off a few vagrant lamb-chops to find. Eroded by currents of the nearby stream whose banks with all manner of artifacts teem a landslide exposed to the wildlife around what had until then been trapped in frozen ground. Genetic material pried from her chest will allow researchers her time-line to guess and possibly reveal what caused her to shrink so that from the cup of her secrets we drink. Come by when she's ready and look on her size and stare into her round and sorrowful eyes and learn of her past in the great snowy time before our own species did learn how to rhyme.

​© americanifesto / 場黑麥

in her wisdom

There is a soothsayer whose verbage is true who lives in a cave without comfort or shoes or access to wi-fi or much in the way of modern distractions to consume her days. Her cavernous murky and well-hidden home is not hers to live in by herself alone but with her are strong men and girls who reside to make sure she's safe and fed and stays alive. The crone in her wisdom does not leave her lair and since she was 10 she has not cut her hair and her words resound in ears hearts and souls where they take a lasting and powerful toll. She speaks to all comers and won't turn away such persons as have not much money to pay – for all of the drachmas and other such mint are used just to suppot her soothsaying stint. She's spoken to paupers and to heads of state and opens to everyone her speaking-gate then sits back and closes her young lively eyes and sees through the shrewdest and most cunning lies. Her clients are housewifes old weary and weak the rich and the mighty the bold and the meek and hers are hard truths that now soothe and now sting that make people weep cry out rejoice and sing. So come with your question and one or two more and knock on the old lady's stout wooden door and sit for a moment to bask in the words of this old Grigovian truth-telling bird.

​© americanifesto / 場黑麥

heater for nigh

He'd been on a heater for nigh on a week and long was his successful brash winning-streak. His game it was poker his foes were a bunch of backstabbing gangsters who never skipped lunch his luck was as long as his skills they were deep but he made too many of the others weep and they started cheating conspired against this man who too few too far-apart friends. He cursed the high heavens when he started losing and soon turned to whiskey and other such boozing and spent his last dollar on drinking away the sorrow and anger of that darkened day. But not beer nor liquor could obscure the fact that his soul was constantly under attack from greediness and a foul yearning for more the likes of which have not been much seen before. Then after a week more of losing he sold a watch that was studden with diamonds and gold that he'd been presented with not long ago – quite desperate was he to have sunk so low. With bills and calls mounting to pay off his debts he wondered how much worse his poor life could get then choked on a porkchop one night at a bar and wandered outside but could not find his car for it had been repo'd and he had to walk and all the way home a dark figure did stalk. The fight it was over before it began and off into darkness the dark figure ran and the man bled out on a worn broken stair with holes in his stomach and blood in his hair. There was no memorial no persons mourning and bright shone the sun on the very next morning and his chair was filled at the poker game by another too-gready and -liquored up guy.

​© americanifesto / 場黑麥

bounty and plenty

Long has she watched over fair Grigovia – our welcoming mother bright Ma'atronya. She holds to her bosom great bundles of wheat and full cornucopia lie at her feet and a healthy child sits there on her lap who looks like he'd just woken up from a nap. First mentioned in the ancient Edda of Grie from one thousand thirty and two B.C.E. her rein's not been shaken by harshness or drought or when there was bounty and plenty about. With blessings and mercy she comforts the weak and few are the comforting words that she speaks but when they are spoken they can't be unheard for hers are some lasting and powerful words. In every home altar she takes up a space she helps us our problems with fortitude face she helps us remember what we've long forgot – that none of our efforts are ever for naught. We praise and uplift her on every full moon for hers is a fertile mysterious womb where dream hope and passion do enter and stay and go grow to fruition with each passing day. On the equinoxes we praise her once more by draping bright garlands from window and door by hugging each other and passing out food to each needy mother to each vagrant dude. Come join in the warmness of this quiet mother who loves and protects us like no one no other in this land of happiness this patria whose glory endures thanks to Ma'atronya.

​© americanifesto / 場黑麥

bovines and sheeps

Come outside my lovelies there's warm in the air and green tufts of life all around – everywhere! Our Massif of Yiptlong is coming alive with bees now emerging from their high-hung hives and birds now returning from their winter keeps and young being born to goats bovines and sheeps. Man Winter is crawling back into his cave, his white wispy beard and his long gnarled stave are dragging behind him for he's been left weak from making the landscape cold barren and bleak. The goddess of Springtime has taken his stead and soon to Man Summer she'll surely be wed and then we'll all bake under his restless eye that hangs in a tepid and sweltering sky. With thoughts of hot evenings and of hotter nights we turn our attention to conquering fright and vanquishing worry and hunger and pain and waking up from frigid slumber again the deep burning fires that keep our souls bright that wrap us in dazzling and near-blinding light. Air out the bed linens and sweep off the stair and weave a wee tulip up into your hair; rejoice at the coming of times filled with joy for each one among us – old young girl and boy.

​© americanifesto / 場黑麥

not a word

She knew not to wait or to look for a sign and therefore just sat there and soon was aligned to energies inside and those from without while her soul did shine and her spirit did shout. Her mouth though was silent she said not a word and moved not for thunder man spider or bird and let the impressions of life all around impact on her being with wind-gust and sound. Such was her devotion to just sitting there that she soon developed a shock of white hair that hung as a forelock down over her face revealing a hint of her majestic grace. Goddesses took notice and moved her to shield and used all the craftiness that they could wield to shelter her body from torment and pest and prolong the life of she whom they loved best. Time did wear upon her after many years but she had abandoned her cares and her fears and stepped without knowing back into the void from whence she at birth had been duly deployed. She joined then the pantheon that none can see and guards all such people who sit silently as she herself once did while she was alive and helps all such people to advance and thrive who take time to step away from busy lives who display the courage deep within to dive.

​© americanifesto / 場黑麥

her own self

Her visions were strong and her mind it was clear so much so that she could tell when earthquakes neared and when rains were coming and when they would cease and how Bengal tigers' anger to ease. She worked for circuses and for soothsayers but never revealed all of her deep layers but kept herself closed to those she didn't know and carefully throttled how far she would go with even her closest and longest of friends and learned mostly on her own self to depend. While out on a journey she met Nepal monks and found she could share all her secrets amongst those wise and sage masters of Being And Naught who'd long ago shed all their most selfish thoughts. She joined then up with them and fled to the East and calmed many angry and marauding beasts and then reached a temple build high on a peak where she then remained 'til her muscles turned weak and she duly perished and her body dried but her spirit lived for such things don't die.

​© americanifesto / 場黑麥

hope and promise

The virus made use of our customs and trade its inroads and success were too quickly made until a small council of wise people met to examine options we'd not thought of yet. This occurred way back in the thirteen hundreds when much of what was Europe lay about dead when blight war and pestilence were all around and piles of corpses stood heaped on the ground. This council of men and of women held court and discussed our nation's few and last resorts and devised a schema for saving us all from wizened old geezer to children still small. We must put these bodies at once in the earth and give all sick-houses a wide solemn berth and clean up our quarters and wash all our clothes and wear clean white kerchiefs before mouth and nose, is what this wise council did wisely propose. Grigovia's death-rate fell quickly and soon and ours was a widespread but still-cautious boon for we found some lands to the north south and east had been quite abandoned to weed-growth and beast. Our borders expanded as the sickness fled and within a fortnight we'd buried the dead and started to build on the lands that we'd gained while strength hope and promise did fill us again. With stubborn defense we held onto those lands from roving marauding and murderous bands that swept from the plains of Asia's wide steppe to break up and shatter upon our doorstep. The pest never came back for we did keep clean our bodies and homes and all places once mean and foul with effluvia trash and vomit and never again did we let or permit invaders of human or non-human sort to drive us to seeking few and last resorts.

​© americanifesto / 場黑麥

favor of Fate

When waking up early to see to the rites she found it important a candle to light not one on the outside but one within her in hopes she'd the favor of Fate would incur. Things took a turn upward and her life improved and many a visitor felt himself moved when looking upon the things she did sculpt carve paint regardless if depicting sinner or saint. Her works were bought up by some people with means and she found herself mingling in between and rubbing her elbows with those who could pay for her bold wide strokes and her well-crafted clay. She took then to drinking her rites set aside and let herself fill up with envy and pride and let herself slack in her morning routine until her hard soul was dark callous and mean. Fate then frowned upon her and caused her to lose the customers who'd once her works had perused and she lost a child to drink and to vice and hers was a bed of rough hay-bales and lice. She left for far shores on a fast sailing-craft whose deckhands were able whose captain was daft whose course was erratic as that of a bat which lapped up grain liquor from an open vat. A storm did confuse them and they lost a mast to a prolonged furious sudden wind-blast and they then washed up on tropical isle where they found brown faces and curious smiles. She took to her new home with passionate zeal and did quickly learn how to whip up a meal from coconut milk and a few broken nuts and soon were smoothed over her addictions' ruts. She took her a husband and bore him a son who was a bright beautiful artistic one and soon she discovered the routines she'd known that were once abandoned in her distant home and became a priestess who shared with her tribe her wisdom and grace 'til the day that she died.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥