Wait a 2nd: When Freedom Bares No Responsibility

By Eike (ike) Waltz

Eike Waltz, poet
Sheila Halligan-Waltz, painter

1. This is why I wrote "Wait a 2nd"
Sheila and I turned into concerned citizens but reject the association with "activism". By speaking up, speaking out with our art we faced an American specialty: "I don't care" …facing silencing…facing ignorance.
Yes, we Americans are taught our entire lives, that we are the freest Nation on earth and the rest of the world only envies us…Bullshit!
According to the World Governance Indicator (2017) 40 nations enjoy a higher level of democratic freedom. And contrary to having the most trustworthy news in the world…we were ranked #46. It is your duty to check this out.
And then, we have that paranoid need to bear arms by sustaining an out-of-control gun culture or more accurately, an out-of-date, seriously perverted "2nd Amendment". Why can't we make the 2nd Amendment human again? Please note, only three nations at this time have the right to bear arms as a provision in their constitution. Of those three, only the USA does not include restrictive conditions, and thus providing for that daily deadly 2nd Amendment inhuman tally, that free-for-all, that makes every citizen a target.
I hear: "We Americans need to protect us from our government."
If we had a democratically elected 21st century functioning government and claim to be a free and educated nation, we will not have to fear for our rights. It is ignorance and fear that castrates your rights and makes you less free.
Imagine, our elected government would turn into a hated dictatorship.
Remember, there was a MAGA equivalent in Germany. As a result, Germany had lost its moral compass and left its people forever in a deep shame of collective guilt.
"How was it possible? Will it happen again? These are questions, still haunting me."
And today I have to ask: doesn't this sound all too FAMILIAR?
Like in the past, there will be the day for repentance. The 61 million will say one day: "I had to vote for Trump. I was just an innocent bystander". Don't forget, this perverted innocence makes you guilty just the same. If you like it or not.
And then, if you, white man, look long enough at a black, well-engineered AR-15, you too may be convinced that the AR-15 is designed to protect the evangelical white-man's belief that the American ruling class can only be white. The cynics would say: "Let's stand our ground".
Yes, many of us are angry and disillusioned with government. Globalism opened a new door for the wealthy and shut doors for the every-one else. But I am even more disappointed with my fellow citizens who repeatedly seem to vote against their own existential interest and are ever so impressed by reality show personalities, power, and money.
This is what Americans say about them-selves (words after Mark Manson):
The greatest flaw of American culture seems to be its blind self-absorption. In the past it hurt only other countries. But now our blind ambition for progress is starting to hurt ourselves. We became obsessed with fear and now fear everything. How can we call America a democracy when we are unable to differentiate between a modern social democracy and democratic socialism and bluntly call it all communism. Yet, referring to "saving our democracy" when we practice an oligarchy!
There are many things I love about America, and this is why America became my adopted home. I certainly do not hate money or for that matter, America. But my turbulent European upbringing taught me to be critical and to be on the watch. I could tell you many beautiful stories about America. Sometimes its naiveté or freshness that brings tears to my eyes, which inspires me to write poems of endearment, which in turn lets me rest in all its lush lands and seascapes and, above all…lets me be…who I am.
European is my house and being American, are my daily chores. Freedom to me is not the national popular indoctrination of superiority but to be open-minded and not to be the tyrant of one's own mind.
2. I consider my poetry

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Dec 15, 2021
• ISBN: 9781667818207

Book preview

The 2nd Amendment

When common sense and life is at stake (a cynical parody)

The 2nd

A well-regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms, shall not be infringed

Wait a 2nd

A well-built Autobahn, being necessary to the security and the free movement of a free state, the right of the people to drive vehicles with unlimited features, horsepower, and speed, shall not be infringed???

or

A well-regulated Healthcare System, being necessary to the security and safety of a free state, the right of the people to refuse masks and vaccinations, shall not be infringed???

Anti-poetry

Is an art movement that attempts to break away from the normal conventions of traditional poetry.

In Eike’s anti-poetry...punctuation (,) is minimal and largely replaced by breathing. Like a conductor would breathe with an opera singer or a ballet dancer during a performance.

Punctuation is largely replaced by:

. end of thought

… take a short breath

…..end of poem/prose

//text//: repeat text

Political poetry is here to stay

Despite traditional critics arguing that political poetry can-not exist.

Poetry and politics connect through expression and feeling.

It is a way of critical thinking in which you don't simply accept all arguments and conclusions you are exposed to but rather have an attitude involving questioning such arguments and conclusions.

Political poetry has existed from the earliest times, including the Roman, Horace ( 65 BC – 8 BC).

American political poetry arguably dates back to the turn of the 20th century. One of the first American political poems was written in 1930 by Uri Zvi Grinberg, a poem titled I Hate the Peace of Those who Surrender.

American slam poetry began in the mid-1980s, in the Green Mill Jazz Club in Chicago. Slam poetry is a type of social or political complaint that uses identity and other forms to protest oppression…..

Who is Eike Ike Waltz (Eike Walcz)

Born Frankfurt a. M. Germany

Married to Sheila Halligan-Waltz

For artistic accomplishments see www.f-artstatements.com

Business Middle School, Germany

Maschienenbau Apprenticeship, Germany

Ballet Dancer (Augsburg, Munich, Wuppertal, Hamburg, Paris, Berlin)

Akademie für Grafik Druck und Werbung, Berlin

London College of Printing, UK

Royal College of Art (MdesRCA) – Engineering Design and Sculpture, UK

Chief Engineer (ITT Components), UK

BSI Chief Delegate to IEC SC48D, UK

Technical Manager and Technical Advisor setting up manufacturing companies in the UK, USA and Japan inventing electromechanical/cooling solutions for the electronic industry

IEEE 1101.x Chair USA

ANSI-USNC Chief Delegate to IEC SC48D (20+ years), USA IEC 1906 Award

VITA Hall of Famer, USA

PICMG Distinguished Service Award, USA

I started writing as early as in the 1950s.

First and only publication Gänseblümchen 1963.

The works by Stefan Zweig, Jean Cocteau and Allen Ginsberg inspired me to write about issues concerned.

Drawings by Sheila Halligan-Waltz

I studied briefly at the Art Institute of Chicago and privately. My work tackles issues including the prejudice connected with AIDS, Breast Cancer, Mental Illness, Corporate Greed, Gay Rights and Rape. Embracing life, I simultaneously paint erotic subject matter, local characters and friends as an antidote to the inhumanity. My subjects face the viewer and make eye contact thus establishing an even greater human relationship. Included drawings are from my #6 (#sex) Series.

See www.f-artstatements for my oil on canvas paintings and CV.

Foreword

Eike and Sheila Waltz are California’s King and Queen of Dada. True artistic royalty with a lineage that spans across the deepest roots of the migratory American Midwest and the long, winding, history of Modern Europe. Both are poetic artists who reach deep into our hearts and minds. Armed only with words and paint they make sounds and colors dance together on canvasses ripe for magic to happen! Juxtapositions they skillfully wind together are like spells mouthed in ancient tongues not heard by human ears in a thousand years. These incantations rise from the pages you now hold in your hands to swirl about leaving their mark on us. Know, this work, if spoken aloud, if viewed and debated honestly, WILL change you. Know this now as you plow ahead devouring like you always do. Be ready for a rush of stimulation as your eyes and ears feast wildly with California’s King and Queen of Dada, Eike and Sheila Waltz. In a world made up of all things, but especially made of poetry, painting, and love.

Garland Thompson, Jr. Spring 2020

My beginning of life

The first I remember

(I was 3)

I was beaten for something

I did not do…

I do not remember

what it was

but…I remember…

For some reason

I ended up in the hat rack

way up…

And I was beaten

by a faceless black uniform

in black boots

with a measuring stick

for good measure…

For good showing

I was stuck into a uniform

and presented at a parade

with a lot of noise…

I was taught how to lift my arm…

But I was stung

by a bee into my outstretched tender hand

And I screamed

…Hell…

(and I never again lifted my arm for anyone)

…I still hear those black goose steps…

Daram…daram…daram…ram…ram…

"SA maschiert

die Reihen fest geschlossen"…

…birth certificate a swastika…

…Yes…I was there…

//sing me a song//

of love…

Let my innocence sing the song

just

let me sing along…..

JUSTICE FOR RUVEN RAY

2007

I became

a proud father

in Berlin

on a Saturday…1968…at 7pm

I became…

surprise…surprise…a grandfather

in Berlin

on a Friday at 5am

the 10th of October 2006

Yes…I was…far…far…away …

Six months later…April 26th…2007

A moment so savage

A murder so senseless

It was late

and I

said goodbye

to Ruven

to Ray…

…I am a grandfather…no more…

It is so hard

to walk away

from treasured memories every kiss

every hug

every promise

was bliss

…WHY…why?…

Searching questions

changing you

painfully…slowly…

Memories

are so hard to please…

And I…and I…

…Still alive…

have arrived

at a loss…called…destiny…

// And I still cry

Justice…Justice for Ruven Ray //…..

I hate history as it repeats itself

2021

I was borne…

I was born

like all of you

against my will…

We are all born

against our will…

We have no choice…

You cannot even choose

what you want to call

home…

What family you like…

Born legitimate…out of

wedlock

or brutal rape…

Black…brown…white…

yellow

or an alien green

or a medium gray…

What society you like

to join…

We are born into rules and

instructions

where nothing is perfect…

First you are lucky to be

human…

On top of the food chain…

The rest is by design

a narrow path called

existence…

Traveling that digitized

multi-lane

binary highway

of love and hate…

Rich and poor…

Winner and loser…

Good and evil…

Beauty and ugliness as I

define…

And Hitler created the war

and me…

I was born

to be white

blond

and eyes reflecting

the approved color of

blue…

I was groomed

to join the elite of the

Master race…

A super Arian

molded to die for the Führer

to be brainwashed

at the Ordensburg

Sonthofen…

A patriot for the 3rd Reich

dominating the-all of you…

I was born

to be a perfect human

hating everyone

who was not a qualified

German…

Obeying orders

of important NS

magnitude…

I came into this world

into a breeding ground

of organized hatred…

Fear was to be the glue…

War was my nursery

sound…

I woke into the front line

of the End…

Destruction and shame

silence and stench

hang over devastation

like a bleak November fog

never exposing the sun

never let you play

with a friend…

Remaining creatures

of a crashed tyranny

existence without a soul

begging for food

stealing warming coal…

Survival…in the rubble…

Survivors from the

holocaust camps…

POW’s age 14 to very old

man…

Denazification

and hangings…

Survivors did not even know

how to repent…

Where did all the Nazis go?

Swallowed by the

underground?

Nobody remembered

lifting that arm

anymore

yelling that familiar

Heil Hitler

that daily chore …

A nation of collective guilt

claiming to be innocent

bystanders:

"I had no choice…I was not

aware"

Clinging desperately to that

murky

morality ground…

I never met my father

during the war…

And I was told

he is a hero

protecting the Reich…

And I added:

Surely…he is defending

the Jews…

…No…he was not…

He hated them…

The truth hit hard

Germany the greatest

fell apart…

Ever since…I keep

asking…Why?

When I finally met

the remnants of a…father

he was called Uncle George

extremely bright

but he had no heart

surviving in the

underground…

There was no hug…

There was no kiss…

No word…meaning:

I love you…

I had to straighten

rusty nails

pulled out of shredded

timber

found in the rubble of

Germany’s bombed to

pieces glorious past…

Father and I were a world

apart…

Forever I ask…

This forever affected my

soul

and it left a deep scar

of shame and sadness

in my heart…

2020 USA

I was borne

to