(Ode To The Abducted )
Part Six
By Alfred Lehmberg <>

Ode Part I
Ode Part II
Ode Part III

Ode Part IV
Ode Part V
Ode Part VI
Well, they TOLD me what the deal was, and confirmed my worst suspicions; we were quite a bit more rotten than I knew. We were ALSO far more beautiful than I ever had imagined -- re-fell in love with human beings, it's true! The pictures of the past implanted deep within my brain were a cavalcade of memory and much more than mere refrain. I was floating like a spirit but a witness to it all. The *forgotten* shout the message, and I'm there to hear them call.
It was like "Great Expectations," and the Mantis sang the tune; the Grey was all translation with its probe. The Lizard handled *movies* and resolved them in my head, and the flower sent the _feelings_ of those shown. I was THERE where they would put me (like the spirit Christmas Past); our record was a SEA and I could see that it was vast. The stuff I saw would curl hair and I could see it all. I was there for the betrayals, the deceptions, and the stalls.
I'd begun to almost hate us as I'd *watched* the forced concessions of the weaker for the stronger -- by decree. We were there to take the low road -- when we did we went *below* low, and we whimpered up to shame on callused knees. The diamonds in the garbage hardly made up for the carnage that was spun out quick before me in this *vision*. Gratified, it sometimes worked, in spite of all the selfish JERKS that stall for gain and fan our indecision.
There are some who won't succumb, so fast, to feed their worn sensations. They won't abide the sociopath -- work hard for his cessation. They won't give up their principles for porcelain bidets -- or land, or homes, or trophy wives, and other things that lay. They see that stuff they covet hard just leads to other *stuff*. They know a feast's been served, at last, and *plenty* is enough. It's these that are the beautiful -- keep the rest of us employed, keep our cups, near, overflowing -- keep our families close to joy.
It's amazing how they showed me. It's like they put me in the *room*! It's more than motion picture, it's got detail; it's got zoom! You can check out Caesar's nose hairs, or watch Atlantis sink, you can see the megalithic move their stones and smell their stink. I was shown it all "unvarnished", and the truth DOES set you free when you know at last where's buried all the bones -- to finally *SEE*! Explained at last -- conundrums that have festered at your mind. Gone at last, the scales drop, but then perceive that you've been blind.
Humankind's a vicious beast not learning from mistakes? Religious fundamentals come from charlatans and fakes? Cultures bloomed and died, in ageless time, like desert flowers? The innocents made guilty while the *guilty* covet power? Priests and Kings cooperate to betray and fleece their sheep -- who rise up periodically to express their basic need?
(Yeah, *watching* all this hurt like hell, but it's tooth work put behind you -- less is more you have discovered at the end. When all is plain before you (and the truth it CAN alarm you!), an open mind's your truest, finest friend.)
How to tell you where they took me, and the visions that they showed me from the dimmest past to lurid present CRIME . . . It was brutal, it was harsh, but lots of flowers in the marsh; they were *artists* making records of our time.
I watched a leering Adolf and sad Eva get it on (!), attempting what you'd call a carnal union? She was trying what she COULD to make him *happen* (get him stood) but his failure was predictable (gratifying) -- amusing. I watched the prideful and paternal, but still evil, hurtful pillars of a *well respected* culture holding sway. I saw space folk, from the stars, provide for Asian plains of jars!!! I watched "Vietnamese" secure their day.
Soon the visions were repellant, but so enthralling all at once, and all mixed up together -- bad and good with saints and chumps. "Stop it . . ." finally stammered from my freeze dried lips and mouth! "Stop, before my shame PREVAILS"! Was this what we're about? The *movie* kept on going like my wishes didn't matter. The truth ran hot and heavy as my world dropped and shattered. . .
How would you keep from break down? What would it do to YOU? The only thing that's worse than truth? The ignorance of it, dude.
Besides, truth's a lot less ugly (I've learned) when it's admitted, addressed, and then put behind you -- a stone of the (more solid) foundation. The admission lends it a cloak of real beauty that can be worn -- justifiably!

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