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Sananda Maitreya

SanandaMaitreya.com ...


Merovingians and other SRR636*ians…

When silence speaks, it never whispers, it screams!


This is to announce to my friends that we have absolutely no affiliation with the TTD sobriquet/ moniker anymore and entirely disown its manipulation by anyone unauthorized. Anyone not Sananda Maitreya is unauthorized and does not carry my blessing. If you see TTD/new name it is also completely unauthorized as I am not now nor have I ever been a "slash". The only Slash that matters is in Guns n' Roses! Welcome to the 21st century, Hoorah! Let's move and as the great Maestro virtuoso Prince entreated 25 years ago: "Let's Work!".


I remember once informing a teacher in school that the great Beethoven was of African Moorish descent and getting sent home from school. While this information is kept from Americans, it would appear as if every other European I meet is already well aware of this. Do we even have an education system? Not really, just an information system, mostly useless and for certain no use at all to black pride, self-esteem and any knowledge which might lead to a higher level of awareness and appreciation. That Russia's (arguably) two greatest writers were also of African vintage is accepted by most everyone but us in the land of the free, home of the brave. Markers of intellectual achievement are important for all tribes to recognize and claim. I celebrate the greatness inherent in all tribes of the earth. The slander of non-recognition accorded our intellectual achievements by the Anglos is criminal to say the least. Should we put all of our minds and creativity together and stop playing these silly and wasteful race games, we would have saved the world twice already yesterday.


To the complicated, life is complicated. The simpler your philosophy, the greater your wins.


We were given rationale to make sense of ourselves to ourselves. The key to success is not how smart you are, it's how much of you makes sense to yourself and how little of it you judge.


The man most amused by who he is keeps his head above his own cloud and then what rains come, come as a bath and not a storm.


I guess in the final analysis that if our opinions really mattered to us, we wouldn't give them away.


... a systematic rape and betrayal, and yet just another day in the life of an artist.


For immune system, memory retention and matters libidinous, a good orange is hard to beat and there are few states of consciousness that a glass of orange juice won't help settle.


The question is not whether we were made to drink milk, it's whether we feel we deserve milk's mercy. That's why cows are or they could just as easily be squid.


What artist knows not depression, knows not the depth of his own well and how pure and healing those waters really are.


Oranges are a great comfort to depression.


Depression is the womb where happiness lies sleeping, waiting to stretch as soon as the moon turns its back again and begins yawning.


Depression is but a deeper call to meditation. When the two become one, there is neither, there is only attention and a subtle burning bliss.


Revelation and depression go hand in hand like dark thought and its shiny lucid mirror.


Depression is a seed
its blossom is joy
the deeper the soil
the higher the poppy


Often states of depression are concurrent with periods of low calcium deficiency. Up your calcium, up your mood.


All time spent earnestly in depression/meditation is never wasted but rather invested in the turning of the topsoil, the deepening of the senses. The wider our cups, the more spring they can hold and the more summer they can project.


Technically
this is not a poem
but technically
you are not
a person either


Who holds their depression with empathy yet detachment holds the next batch of lightning in its debt.


It is said that the smarter you are, the more prone to depression. So see depression as a smart tax and be grateful that you have in mind more than two brain cells that rub against one another in excitement.


Learning how to manage periods of depression, is an important part of working with your creative consciousness. Depression is the sperm daddy of raw creative material. Depression is thunder, creativity it's lightning. I've read that some scientists say that the mood swings of mood crisis produces the chemical energy that in turn produces new creative energy, out of the darkness is born the light. Depression is not a curse unless you choose to see it as such. It is instead the place we are invited to go to in order to take clay into our own hands and create the new toy soldiers of Grace.

This poem
gives me power of attorney
to spank your heinie!
(Now Ben Dover, you know you deserve it!)


I'm deeply moved at how 20 years after writing my name in its margins, how deceptively segregated the music still is and as a result the society which chokes it to contain it. My music brings people together, as I was taught by my masters to do and no sooner did the music show its power of renewal and engagement did a bullet pierce my brain to separate me from my audience, whereupon it was systematically doled out to all the clones created in the wake of my death to mop up the people drawn to my work and spirit. That death cost the industry its soul and is the reason its magnetic power has fast receded, never to return to anywhere near the space it occupied before. What God and spirit has made and sent, man cannot replace. Silly rabbits. Tricks are for kids. The extreme right wing power structure and its mythic prejudices sucked the life right out of the business on behalf of its narrow-minded masters (and whose ties are as tight as the turbans they fight) for whom I would no sooner labour than I would sit with the head of the KKK to organize a Bob Marley tribute.... and it's going to get much worse...


Sometimes you simply swallow the wrong pigeon.


Singers are now largely athletes engaged in gladiatorial contests. Left in the dust of this vanity is the song and its value. A great song will always contain greater memory than the voice which carries it.


The worldwide record industry sold itself out to become yet another racist and sexist institution on behalf of shareholders afraid that the world was leaving them and their prejudices behind. They're therefore not fit to last and won't. A new music economy is building and growing which is not nearly as hate filled and presumptuous. It will once again serve the real dynamic needs of the people, people no longer being served by the Cabal who would neuter the groove and use it only to locate and suffocate your child with more labels and consumerist instruction. If a culture's music is dead, its spirit is dead and that's not good. I call upon a molecular army of carbon based big dicked guitar players, to begin new bands. And shake the ground. Like fire starters and beast slayers. Move and fast, we don't know how much time we have. There are angels of music who will help you regardless of your circumstances if you are sincere.


I have an acquaintance who wrote to me over a year ago about his dilemma: he had no name, was over the age of 40 and no contacts at all in the old-model music business. We advised him that that was in fact his greatest strength and to trust his desire and simply go for it, firing on all pistons. A few weeks ago he related to me that he had placed his music on all the main carriers, his own website, and was overjoyed to be making his own way honestly and on his own terms, not to mention the fact that he was making money. God Bless Him for his courage and his belief in himself. This is also you!


Coming soon: the "Nigor Mortis ® " poems


To DH in the British Isles, roughly about the time when he became TERRIBLY TRENDY DARKY, was when we began to search for a new life, a new location and most importantly: a new spirit. Shortly thereafter I received my commission and its instructions. The traumas and betrayals are still too fresh in my cellular recall to arrive back in your fair isle anytime soon. It would be akin to asking Mrs Lincoln if she had further plans to attend more theatre events. Suffice to say after seeing her husband Abraham drained of blood in a theatre, she probably stuck close to books and smelling salts from that time onwards. Are you sure that you are not MI5? ( even greater than MI5 is the MC5, check those guys out! )


That which begs for attention can never be real. What begs, lacks and what lacks is not. Begging nullifies grace and its affection for miracles.


COPYRIGHT SANANDA MAITREYA
MILANO 12th FEBRUARY 2007
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

INTELLECTUAL COPYRIGHT PROTECTED

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