gems in the mega rough…angels and insects
I wish I could weep for the fiends who cause my soul to cry. But in my wakefulness, where my spirit rules, I cannot, for the lupine zeal to bare fangs and howl at any moon is…all too powerful. As in wakefulness, I find no value in loosening the tear ducts, letting the woe flood flow…it has no value in the Now. Or Anywhere. Some call such outpouring of grief and sadness cathartic, yet I have learned that such a thing is puss, a boil in dire need of lancing,,,nothing more, nothing less, if any talk of Value is spoken….
A poet trapped in a cage,
dealing with daily rage,
taking breath of existence and finding the only inkling of What The Fuck I Am,
on the last page…
What can I do???…I can do a lot more. Than sharing the view of heart, soul and mind of the wailings of a twisted poet engaging with the world, on as many levels as possible. Woe does so little, progress is the way to achieve anything…for those you wish, yearn for, to progress in any way, in terms of awareness, in terms of focus, need you to be in the very least…PROGRESSING. One inspires the other. And so how do I progress? Declare myself a wailing victim of the system? Declare war on the system? Or slink away into the shadows to seek comrades, gather forces, to then aim for…something more meaningful than an organised march, which achieves nothing, other than facebook bauble ‘likes’…
I found myself close to assaulting a homosap I know as silly, yet decent, of late…He pushed me, fist playfully meeting healing sutures, yet its another I wish to crush, a puff-toad slime merchant, with wide shoulders and the strut of a wannabe pimp. A grass, a squealing bitch, slug faced wench of a man…Indeed, he will be my undoing, or perhaps my makings as a Brute with my head and heart facing the Right direction.
The way he moves, the way he speaks, the way he writes, is the epitome of obsequious SCUM.
I can play nice, in short doses. Yet if presented with lengthier collisions, I am already certain, I will attack. Out of instinct, not thought. And so…I am penning my own exit strategy, from a realm I know as fake and well paid and horrid…What cowardice would I be embracing, were I to remain, anywhere near the stance of Good Corporate Citizen, when my own perception of Reality, translates that as ‘corporate coward cunt’…
Why fight chubby faced, slime merchants when the real war is elsewhere?
Indeed…Time to make tracks.
The more I learn, the more I hate. Yet I must bite a bit of my tongue and seek out the righteous, connect and collide and collude with those others who are well aware that the war for the Earth, not Syria, not Iraq, not Yemen, for Life in any way we can know it, is to be fought on different planes.
Most people, in the West, care not a jot for the killing in our name. With our taxes. Those that do, are at very best, focused on sustainable living enterprise or pouring their zeal into pointless protests. By all means, MARCH, block the corporate sector, in body and roar…yet alongside that must be a ‘HEAR US OR WE WILL REVOLT’. Simply ‘HEAR US’ leads to nothing more than the enemy legislating more carefully against us. There has to be some threat, some consequence of our message heard, yet ignored.
And if that consequence is insurgency, more serious than marches and high fives and beatnick vermin feeling like they have helped the true cause, by kicking a pseudo fascist in the arse then finding hugs and fucks in their dreadlocked comrades, then…it makes sense, in terms of history, for no power structure has ever been put down or replaced through marches…
I can no longer allow myself to play the pawn.
You do not have to peek too deeply to learn that there is a group, controlling the Zionists and puppet governments of the West, as we destroy, secular non-aligned to Western interests, one after the other…to such a degree that the Goebbels of our times, comes up with terms such as ‘Humanitarian Intervention’ and ‘No FLy Zone’, both of which, are realised as bombing of foreign lands, until we can rape and pillage, place the puppet leaders in ‘power’, as we turn their culture and country into a husk…
We celebrate Mandela as a hero…who bombed the police and power structure, as his wife demanded burning tyres round necks…We wear threads revering Che, who had his own personal execution chamber for men, women and children, deemed his enemies. We read of the French Revolutions, where the rich were beheaded by the hundred…
Do you have the true grit required for Revolution? If so…the above is what is required.
So attend your organised marches, and continue to believe that you can show your kids your attendance, as the world will be the same, facebook will remain, our lives will be easy, safe, always the same…if that is the case, you have no appreciation or awareness of the pursuit of profit and Greater Israel, reaching its limits…and then what eh???
Such is the nature of the control system in which we live and are spied upon, that I cannot go further…the best I can suggest is peek at the reality of Mandela and Che. They fought for no ‘Arab Spring’…They fought their enemies…Will you join me in fighting our Enemies?
If our enemy is prone to mass slaughter and mass deceit, we must learn to play them on their terms…
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