(Ode to the Abducted - Part VII)
By Alfred Lehmberg <>
Ode Part I
Ode Part II
Ode Part III

Ode Part IV
Ode Part V
Ode Part VI
Ode Part VII
They went right on, in earnest, with their *movie* in my mind -- I saw the baby Jesus being born . . . And it wasn't like you'd heard it, the church's canon's obdurate. You find we ride a rhino's thrusting horn. Those stories of the bible are a *spin* away from truth; they complement a SECOND born who haunts the sky -- aloof. The writings firstly written would have had a different slant . . . than what we see comes after with its hard to swallow cant. Eve's, in fact, a HERO, but the stories have been changed to incriminate the innocent who must suffer, toil, and strain. Enki was our champion, and he showed respect for us. Enlil was a spiteful being and we filled him with disgust! Which of these would YOU call God, and which of these your devil? Which of these created you, and which of these cause trouble? Back is up and side is down and all you think you're knowing is a different thing entirely. You're snowed and it's still snowing.
The "flood" was *more* than carnage, oh -- the horror that was harnessed as the waves washed high from pole to quaking pole . . . Those that (still), were left, fed starving *gods* who were bereft (?) of mean supplies they took from mankind they'd controlled! And from these mean beginnings I could see that we'd been lemmings -- if applied, a real history would have saved our skins, and how. But we gave UP the "right to rise" for selfish Priests and Kings, despised, who live in lavish castles even NOW!
Though the flowers in our cultures gave us, always, fine improvements, "less is more" has been corrupted all through time. It was (and is) a callous few that keeps an Eden far from view -- just a few that profit HUGELY from their crime. Lost in jealous vaults are stunning wonders to behold, but they rock and roll the carts of an elite. There are answers making questions too uncomfortable to ask so the covetous can keep what they can reap.
Cancer (!) holds the secret to a healthy life unending, and the whales *hear* a picture of our world! Light speed is no barrier, there are *speeds* that are superior . . . magic science, and its wonders -- are unfurled. None need ever suffer, live forever, never hunger, in a world less the strife that we have now. We could all be self supporting, living life's unending glory; we could do away with landfills -- live in paradise, right now! We could live amongst the stars; we could drive electric cars; we would have new friends (and foes) along the way. We could HAVE a real heaven, we could eat our bread clean leavened, and be thankful for our chance to see each day . . .
The presentation finished, I felt confused (diminished!), and I worried what it was that I could DO! "Any questions"? They then asked, but I was past that point, detached -- for I'm knowing what I knew was really true! Could I cop to implications straining seams of my cognition -- could I keep it all, and argue I was sane? Could I hold the mud of truth (without that *need* to stand aloof) from the censure now composed within my brain?
These watchers tell the truth you see (they showed it plain as day to me); a record (what you'd call) . . . MY *contribution*. Well, they showed what I was THERE to see -- the death of folks . . . my *enemy*. It was just as I remembered . . . people, dying -- uselessly . . .
So what's the point of my *abduction*, and what's the thrust this summation; what's the message in the meter and the rhyme? "What the hell's he on about"? detractors gnash their teeth to grout, the seconds tick frustratingly in time . . . I'll tell you one more time, small men -- it's just not good, I must contend, to keep your proud denial -- they are there. And I would know, though heaven fell, what they could WANT or what the hell -- if it painted God a phony . . . I won't care. They'll keep their distance, naturally, and what they are, dispassionately, I cannot know or even deign to guess. But they are there in history, some folks that I can trust have seen, and movies that I have should cause distress. The evidence is physical, historic, and it's practical; it's carved into the face of living rock. Reported in the oils of the portraits by the masters, it counters those pretending that it's not.
What my message DOES portend (?): is that we CAN NOT depend -- on them, your Gods and Devils, for support. We're on our own to save the day, to bring it home, or keep the fray (and our space borne fellows beckon . . . let's be sports!). An elite won't have *them* out there, and they'd keep our eyes away with their hate campaigns designed to callous knees. But when it's said and done, and all the damage has been done, they are there, still, none the less -- yes. Can't you see?
Some we'd think malevolent, and some we'd think were saints. We'd be wrong about the both of them, and the truth could make some faint! Judge a whale or a dolphin from your shallow point of view (?), and see a handless mammal that's below you, you've construed? The truth is that they're smarter than you ever had imagined, the fact is that they're smarter than you even CAN imagine. The same with all the space folk! You've got your *good* and *bad* (though the sides can get all tangled with what's sorry and what's glad). That's why we get on OUT there; that's why we take the dare; it's rising and advancing to the folks we find out THERE! It's using THEIR reality to define a spot for US -- but find they test our metal as we board their cosmic bus.
Now -- or later, we _will_ be boarding that cosmic bus, and "tut tut, it looks like rain . . ." -- let's take the next one that stops.
. . . But be prepared to hear, "OK, humanity -- step to the REAR of this bus"!
Employ a little metacognition (that's think about your thinking) . . . and get over it. We have only our air castles to lose, and the multi-verse to gain. I'd go out to that new place where my reach approaches my grasp . . . feel the ephemeral bricks of a once proud heaven falling around me like angry tears -- but then I'd "soar to the infinite", too [g].

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