The Great Tower at Kura: An Old, Old Man [A Poem] Part I
The Great Tower at Kura
[4th Millennium BC]
At the start of the 4th-millennium BC (350-years before the Great Flood took place, which ended all civilizations on the face of the earth) gave rise to Slaug (a region of land, territory), an empire within civilization (a city-state of sorts); --of which, the human race was subject to an international court, that incorporated a triangle of cultures, empires, societies, and nations across all the connecting continents of the world, of which all were connected at this particular time together. They—meaning all lands on earth—was the composition, one opus for the entire globe, sustained from one region in the Atlantic, wherein, the strait nearby, which lead into the Mediterranean, would be know as the Pillars of Hercules; yet at that time there was no connecting of the Atlantic to the Mediterranean Sea above land.
There were no external moral laws either, against any behavior during this era of civilizations around the globe. Yes, people were different, and humility was not a virtue; the laws within the heart that told one it was wrong, were dead, like bones left to dry in a corpse. What might be considered unmoral actions, were all relative.
Economies were often—which was the norm—based on slavery for its labor and other desirable services. There was no discrimination, all were equal in the minds of the slave owners, masters—bitter-sweet you might say—slaves being: brown, white, black, yellow, red skin, the world over, and the government favored no one, and savagely dealt with each and everyone the same, as if to say, human life was a commodity at best; to the earths total, and complete sum, all combined civilizations were part of the circle.
As one was reared to think back in these days: death was simply a recycling of that commodity to be found in most every corner of the world; consequently, free labor in a city-state was a right, which it was given by the great democracy that had its world command center in the Atlantic, by a mysterious nation, a powerful and ingenious people, a subgroup from a higher order that no one dared to defy; democracy bent on, and within the world that did not subject the Atlantic Power Region [APR], to it. The Slaug’s had more slaves possibly than any other civilization on earth at this time; that is, this time I am writing about, the time when this story really did take place, according to my dream-vision. Who am I [if you are asking], I’m the dream, my name is Shark, and I have left these hidden secrets within a mound on an island for another time, for people to find and explore my writings, if you have found these writings, and this story, than you have searched or someone has what is called ‘Sacred Geometry,’ and so be it; for I have searched high and low in all the lands of the world to bring alive mysteries that have been hidden, and this is one.
—Religious dissenters [nonconformist] were killed, butchered alive in front of citizens; I did say democracy was in this land—did I not—but open was its boarders to debauchery and the Nation of the Atlantic held the secrets of the necromantic-culture, and that is what the people wanted; buried alive in front of whoever wished to watch, and be it a testament to those who wished to defy the democracy—of which inhuman crudity of the era was, or better put, seemed to be, in human crudity, being normal; it is really only this day and age that man has stepped forward to wave the flag of moral rights and responsibilities, yet hidden beyond all the dictators of the world of today, is exactly what was back in those far off days, evil-hidden—black enchantment—this was the rule, the norm.
Again I must say, and one should remember, it was the model, natural for people to act this way, or was it? Hundreds were put into huge burials [dugout-graves] holes in the ground: perhaps four-hundred could be thrown or tossed, cast in like diseased cattle into these grave pits (I have seen this with my own eyes in my vision). The liar was crucified upside down, he was considered a man with his insides out, and had no skeleton, thus, he was de-boned like a fish soon after, and left to rot outside the cities with the hyenas.
When sentiment: attitude, or opinions crept out, and were witnessed as to anything against the laws and ideals of the Atlantic-Governing Region, it was put out by the abolitionist, then and only then. This was the group that bore the Eagle Wings (yes this group was the Hidden Red Guards, the SS Nazis of our day; the CIA, or FBI, or KGB of the day); the Abolitionist of Kura, that worked for the Atlanta Group, were all of these subgroups and more. The emblem that went above their chest, or copper armbands, or brass ring, was the same emblem many other nations in future time would acquired. For example, the wings would go onto the Egyptian culture as well as the Persians to follower and the Roman’s would adopt the eagle wings; and yet far off in the future, the Nazi’s. And in the longer version of humanity yet to be born, the eagle wings would be adapted by North America to follow, the United States, for some odd reason this emblem would never rest for 10,000-years; never relax, never to find a inactive place for very long, remaining open to the conquers of the world, or so it seemed; yes, this was also used by this powerful nation to clench world power, this Atlanta Group—saying their government was for the people by the people—hence, democracy was born, but not signifying exactly what people wanted per se (for they were in a way brain washed), and even though it was not considered as great of an achievement as in today’s standards, it was significant nonetheless; and so it was.
The Abolitionist of Kura (within the city’s governing element), who were the enforcers, would chase down the traders—traders that were considered against the people of course, --the people of the Atlantic Group, so they’d say; the only favoritism was to their own kind was The Atlantic Group—which ruled the world bi-proxy, and at bay. In this city, the city really named Kura, but yet was known as, “The City of the Great Tower,” which was on the edge of the Black Sea, during its existence there was no Black Sea per se—at this time, it would come after the Great Flood—yes I repeat, it did not exit yet, it rather was created, created after the great upheaval of the earth. It was a desert now, a plateau kingdom that rested on the deserts edge, indented with terrain that would someday make a great sea; that said, after the continents would be split in-two (un-connecting the land masses) the crust of the earth would twist with birth pains, turning everything upside down during this Great Flood to be, of this era yet to come. But I’m ahead of my dream——Kura, as was this powerful and mighty economic city-state called, gained the name of: “The Great City Tower,” is where I wish to remain.
As I was about to say, in the middle of the city of Kura, in its very center, its nerve center, otherwise known as its ‘navel,’ stood a two-thousand foot tower, two-thousand feet high into the dusty-blue ink like atmosphere. Its circumference huge also was deep rooted, that is to say, planted, and pushed deep into the crust of the earth to secure it for five-thousand years. It was a marvel of might to an on looking world by its visitors and tourist; but the might came from the Atlantic again, like most things of extraordinary feats, for they did the planting, and I shall get to that momentarily.
Like a peg, a fence peg, it was as it was: unfathomable, much entrenched was this mighty tower, this landmark of all landmarks into layers and layers of earth; taller than the pyramids of Egypt, stronger than the stonewalls of Troy, and more durable than Stonehenge; and older than the Sphinx. Who could boast a mightier beacon such as this [?] Not even Gilgamish and his mighty Uruk. Yet this symbol was not of hope or for one to look forward to, on behalf of mankind, rather the opposite, it was an encouragement to be subdued by the Atlantic group.
Within this city-fortress that spread out like the sun’s beams from the implanted tower, where 230,000-city inhabitants lived, of which 25,000 were-slaves who lived and ate and gossiped and tolerated the rules from the heap that ruled from the Atlantic region, that is, employed slaves with no wages other than time to spend until they earned their freedom, as a result, joining the democracy, the democracy that said they had to be in a slave-status, in all respects, this made the city’s populace somewhere around or close to: 255,000 at this point and time. All the people, as if it was a draft, knew they had to serve two years in slavery upon their sixteenth-birthday. And if not, how could an economy grow prosperous—it was beyond their comprehension, it was an unanswerable question, and pleasing to the Atlantic Group to leave it that way, wherein they had installed this reasoning for many years. It was something never brought up, after its implantation into civilization. The only way to get out of it was to buy your way out before you got in. And should you commit any infractions during your servitude, your time could be extended. The government could use your time and services, or you could be auctioned off by the government to the populist for commodities needed (Note: it is not much different in many ways as being a slave to credit cards of the 21st century I do believe; and trying to pay for credit given in advance, thus one sells his body and soul).
In essence, you did as you were told under this democratic-bondage: for the people by the people, so it was said, but what was meant was free labor for economic purposes, instead of an army that would spoil and use up all ones resources by free labor again to the government, therefore it was in a way, better for the populace, and for the commanding army of some two thousand miles away. In addition, there was open, or free sex if the master so desired it from his or her slave, be it with man or woman, or both?
Look for 'Part Two,' and now here is the poem:
An Old, Old Man
[Dedicated to Papa Augusto]
His words are in shackles,
His eyes are dim,
Not a word, says he—
But they snap at him…
The ultimate love:
Is his children and hope
He kneels now and prays
And bows to his God!
Exposed to the demons
That circles the air
He sits and he thinks:
“How much can I bear?”
He’s an old, old man
—his days are but few
He sits and he thinks:
“How much time can I stew?”
#608 [3/31/05]
Poet and Author: Dennis L. Siluk, website: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com
The Great Tower at Kura
[4th Millennium BC]
At the start of the 4th-millennium BC (350-years before the Great Flood took place, which ended all civilizations on the face of the earth) gave rise to Slaug (a region of land, territory), an empire within civilization (a city-state of sorts); --of which, the human race was subject to an international court, that incorporated a triangle of cultures, empires, societies, and nations across all the connecting continents of the world, of which all were connected at this particular time together. They—meaning all lands on earth—was the composition, one opus for the entire globe, sustained from one region in the Atlantic, wherein, the strait nearby, which lead into the Mediterranean, would be know as the Pillars of Hercules; yet at that time there was no connecting of the Atlantic to the Mediterranean Sea above land.
There were no external moral laws either, against any behavior during this era of civilizations around the globe. Yes, people were different, and humility was not a virtue; the laws within the heart that told one it was wrong, were dead, like bones left to dry in a corpse. What might be considered unmoral actions, were all relative.
Economies were often—which was the norm—based on slavery for its labor and other desirable services. There was no discrimination, all were equal in the minds of the slave owners, masters—bitter-sweet you might say—slaves being: brown, white, black, yellow, red skin, the world over, and the government favored no one, and savagely dealt with each and everyone the same, as if to say, human life was a commodity at best; to the earths total, and complete sum, all combined civilizations were part of the circle.
As one was reared to think back in these days: death was simply a recycling of that commodity to be found in most every corner of the world; consequently, free labor in a city-state was a right, which it was given by the great democracy that had its world command center in the Atlantic, by a mysterious nation, a powerful and ingenious people, a subgroup from a higher order that no one dared to defy; democracy bent on, and within the world that did not subject the Atlantic Power Region [APR], to it. The Slaug’s had more slaves possibly than any other civilization on earth at this time; that is, this time I am writing about, the time when this story really did take place, according to my dream-vision. Who am I [if you are asking], I’m the dream, my name is Shark, and I have left these hidden secrets within a mound on an island for another time, for people to find and explore my writings, if you have found these writings, and this story, than you have searched or someone has what is called ‘Sacred Geometry,’ and so be it; for I have searched high and low in all the lands of the world to bring alive mysteries that have been hidden, and this is one.
—Religious dissenters [nonconformist] were killed, butchered alive in front of citizens; I did say democracy was in this land—did I not—but open was its boarders to debauchery and the Nation of the Atlantic held the secrets of the necromantic-culture, and that is what the people wanted; buried alive in front of whoever wished to watch, and be it a testament to those who wished to defy the democracy—of which inhuman crudity of the era was, or better put, seemed to be, in human crudity, being normal; it is really only this day and age that man has stepped forward to wave the flag of moral rights and responsibilities, yet hidden beyond all the dictators of the world of today, is exactly what was back in those far off days, evil-hidden—black enchantment—this was the rule, the norm.
Again I must say, and one should remember, it was the model, natural for people to act this way, or was it? Hundreds were put into huge burials [dugout-graves] holes in the ground: perhaps four-hundred could be thrown or tossed, cast in like diseased cattle into these grave pits (I have seen this with my own eyes in my vision). The liar was crucified upside down, he was considered a man with his insides out, and had no skeleton, thus, he was de-boned like a fish soon after, and left to rot outside the cities with the hyenas.
When sentiment: attitude, or opinions crept out, and were witnessed as to anything against the laws and ideals of the Atlantic-Governing Region, it was put out by the abolitionist, then and only then. This was the group that bore the Eagle Wings (yes this group was the Hidden Red Guards, the SS Nazis of our day; the CIA, or FBI, or KGB of the day); the Abolitionist of Kura, that worked for the Atlanta Group, were all of these subgroups and more. The emblem that went above their chest, or copper armbands, or brass ring, was the same emblem many other nations in future time would acquired. For example, the wings would go onto the Egyptian culture as well as the Persians to follower and the Roman’s would adopt the eagle wings; and yet far off in the future, the Nazi’s. And in the longer version of humanity yet to be born, the eagle wings would be adapted by North America to follow, the United States, for some odd reason this emblem would never rest for 10,000-years; never relax, never to find a inactive place for very long, remaining open to the conquers of the world, or so it seemed; yes, this was also used by this powerful nation to clench world power, this Atlanta Group—saying their government was for the people by the people—hence, democracy was born, but not signifying exactly what people wanted per se (for they were in a way brain washed), and even though it was not considered as great of an achievement as in today’s standards, it was significant nonetheless; and so it was.
The Abolitionist of Kura (within the city’s governing element), who were the enforcers, would chase down the traders—traders that were considered against the people of course, --the people of the Atlantic Group, so they’d say; the only favoritism was to their own kind was The Atlantic Group—which ruled the world bi-proxy, and at bay. In this city, the city really named Kura, but yet was known as, “The City of the Great Tower,” which was on the edge of the Black Sea, during its existence there was no Black Sea per se—at this time, it would come after the Great Flood—yes I repeat, it did not exit yet, it rather was created, created after the great upheaval of the earth. It was a desert now, a plateau kingdom that rested on the deserts edge, indented with terrain that would someday make a great sea; that said, after the continents would be split in-two (un-connecting the land masses) the crust of the earth would twist with birth pains, turning everything upside down during this Great Flood to be, of this era yet to come. But I’m ahead of my dream——Kura, as was this powerful and mighty economic city-state called, gained the name of: “The Great City Tower,” is where I wish to remain.
As I was about to say, in the middle of the city of Kura, in its very center, its nerve center, otherwise known as its ‘navel,’ stood a two-thousand foot tower, two-thousand feet high into the dusty-blue ink like atmosphere. Its circumference huge also was deep rooted, that is to say, planted, and pushed deep into the crust of the earth to secure it for five-thousand years. It was a marvel of might to an on looking world by its visitors and tourist; but the might came from the Atlantic again, like most things of extraordinary feats, for they did the planting, and I shall get to that momentarily.
Like a peg, a fence peg, it was as it was: unfathomable, much entrenched was this mighty tower, this landmark of all landmarks into layers and layers of earth; taller than the pyramids of Egypt, stronger than the stonewalls of Troy, and more durable than Stonehenge; and older than the Sphinx. Who could boast a mightier beacon such as this [?] Not even Gilgamish and his mighty Uruk. Yet this symbol was not of hope or for one to look forward to, on behalf of mankind, rather the opposite, it was an encouragement to be subdued by the Atlantic group.
Within this city-fortress that spread out like the sun’s beams from the implanted tower, where 230,000-city inhabitants lived, of which 25,000 were-slaves who lived and ate and gossiped and tolerated the rules from the heap that ruled from the Atlantic region, that is, employed slaves with no wages other than time to spend until they earned their freedom, as a result, joining the democracy, the democracy that said they had to be in a slave-status, in all respects, this made the city’s populace somewhere around or close to: 255,000 at this point and time. All the people, as if it was a draft, knew they had to serve two years in slavery upon their sixteenth-birthday. And if not, how could an economy grow prosperous—it was beyond their comprehension, it was an unanswerable question, and pleasing to the Atlantic Group to leave it that way, wherein they had installed this reasoning for many years. It was something never brought up, after its implantation into civilization. The only way to get out of it was to buy your way out before you got in. And should you commit any infractions during your servitude, your time could be extended. The government could use your time and services, or you could be auctioned off by the government to the populist for commodities needed (Note: it is not much different in many ways as being a slave to credit cards of the 21st century I do believe; and trying to pay for credit given in advance, thus one sells his body and soul).
In essence, you did as you were told under this democratic-bondage: for the people by the people, so it was said, but what was meant was free labor for economic purposes, instead of an army that would spoil and use up all ones resources by free labor again to the government, therefore it was in a way, better for the populace, and for the commanding army of some two thousand miles away. In addition, there was open, or free sex if the master so desired it from his or her slave, be it with man or woman, or both?
Look for 'Part Two,' and now here is the poem:
An Old, Old Man
[Dedicated to Papa Augusto]
His words are in shackles,
His eyes are dim,
Not a word, says he—
But they snap at him…
The ultimate love:
Is his children and hope
He kneels now and prays
And bows to his God!
Exposed to the demons
That circles the air
He sits and he thinks:
“How much can I bear?”
He’s an old, old man
—his days are but few
He sits and he thinks:
“How much time can I stew?”
#608 [3/31/05]
Poet and Author: Dennis L. Siluk, website: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com
posted by Dennis and Rosa Siluk at 5:50 PM
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