Month: November 2017
Impostors & Bedfellows
RIGHT NOW, I’M IN BRUSSELS, the supposed European capital — or, rather, the capital of the European Union, which has cunningly usurped the real Europe as if it was the same thing, especially in the malleable minds of the young. Which is isn’t. Not at all. The real Europe doesn’t have a capital city. For that Europe has always been a loose group of neighbouring countries which have a common heritage, do business with each other and help each other when necessary. On the other hand, the European Union is a budding superstate conceived by elites (and initiated originally by the U.S. Central Intelligence Agency, as I showed in an article last year) which seeks to lord it over its member sub-states, as preparation for the absorption of a small number of superstates into a single world government (born out of darkness posing as light). Then the Big Lie and deception will be complete (followed swiftly by its collapse in a blaze of Light).
You think when you’re controlling
the random things unfolding
along the frozen path you tread (so dead)
that somehow you’ll defend your
imagined roundyourself wall
which you’ve built up with years of pain (insane)
I’ve felt the sting of your bite.
I wonder who it was stole your delight?
You long for no adventure!
That invite that he sent ya
just made you stop dead in your tracks (that’s a fact!)
You’re frightened of commitment
you don’t have the equipment
to handle what it takes to blend (surrender)
The Noble Work of Generosity
WHY ARE WE HERE IN THIS DIMENSION, on this planet Earth, at this point in space, time and history? One may never be able to answer that question satisfactorily enough, in verbal terms, so long as we are limited in our thoughts and ideation by the boundary of words (even though that boundary can be stretched the more we reach it). But we can say that we are all involved — whether we know it or not — in an increasingly expanding growth of understanding in mind and heart which takes us further into the unknown (thereby revealing its knownness) and deeper into the twilight zone of consciousness, beyond any perceived limitations. This is the evolution of the soul — joyfully harrowing, vitally necessary and deliciously inevitable.
I will not wear a poppy on that celebrated day;
though many others then will feel obliged,
as if by some strange law, to wear that flower
commemorating war. Each year it is revived.
Then one who claims to be offended by the
lack of paper flower pinned upon my clothes
and thinks that all should be like him or her
will be red-faced and full of rage and sternly say:
“How could you scorn the freedoms won by
those who fought so you could see another day?”
Then will I swift reply: What freedoms do you mean?
The “freedom” to be overseen in every little way
and spied on by your disingenuously “democratic”,
pederast-permitting, plastic, gymnastic government?
The “freedom” to live every day enslaved by
drudgeful work, extorted mortgages and rents
and subsequently have no unspent time to play?
To what freedoms could you possibly refer?
The “freedom” to inscribe your X upon a form,
when several years have passed since last you
X’ed that form before (to no avail, of course)
and take part in another manufactured war they
call “election-time”? (You think this is the norm?)