Little Worth

 

Little Worth

I shall not like to find myself

in a country that’s at war,

for the depths of that depression

just chills me to my core.

Unlike the newsreel movies,

so illusive of the feel,

in reality, there’s anguish,

for the lives that they do steal.

…and outrage breeds determined might

with solemn inhumanity,

that never heals over time

in remembrance of calamity.

Of all the wars I’ve come to know

through my prison here on earth,

I find that I’m more angry,

and that money has little worth.

Epitaph to Michael C. Ruppert

 

Epitaph to Michael C. Ruppert

(Feb 3rd, 1951 – Apr 14th, 2014)

We mourn this day in deep sorrow,

the somber passing of a man,

who wasn’t content as a mortal,

he gave up his life to our clan.

To some a guardian angel,

to others a tracker of truth,

he came along like no one could,

this deeply impeccable sleuth.

A passionate man of justice,

graduated top of his class,

an L.A.P.D. detective,

who battled political brass.

He warned us of coming perils,

confronting collapse with a tour,

shining the light in dark places,

informing us how to endure.

He broke the Pat Tilman story,

predicted a crash in o seven.

battled George Bush and Dick Cheney,

the reasons for nine eleven.

A warrior scout for the tribe,

Michael completed his mission,

for on the other side he waits,

for change in human condition.

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By: Stewart F. Brennan

A page I created in Memory of Michael C. Ruppert

The Tears of Syria

Warmonger

Regardless of the administration,

the war mongers push their legislation,

all compiled with disinformation,

pushed by anchors for indoctrination.

Why are you in the Syrian nation?

your presence there an abomination,

we see through all your twisted summations,

the trade you halt for their strangulation.

The terrorists armed by those you stationed,

the ones employed by privatization,

engaged in war and extermination,

for Syrian oil your concentration.

The illegal wars, your determination,

the bullets and bombs, your occupation,

the crops you burned to cause starvation,

the million’s dead by your operation.

We see your crimes, criminal fixation,

the war of terror, your cultivation,

but you’ve made a huge miscalculation,

for karma will bring your own damnation.

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The Activist Poet

About this Poem: The United States has led a terrorist war on the Syrian people since 2011 with a coalition of war criminals from the U.K. and E.U. through the Middle East. The U.S. military still occupies the oil producing areas of Syria and are boldly stealing their oil while supporting terrorist elements against the people of Syria in 2022.

Two Minutes to Midnight

Two Minutes to Midnight

Of ashes grey, from World War two,

a demon was born, that steadily grew.

The rise of empire, with all its rules,

deceived the public and wisest of fools.

From endless money, stocks were grown,

then Gobbled up, by the few who own.

The monster grew, to sprout its wings,

a military might, that claimed all things.

Their apocalypse rode over nations,

With flag unfurled in occupation.

Until the planet was covered in screams,

save the nations who resisted the memes.

While back at home, the censors dream,

they silence resistance to their scheme.

Trusted news, ops out for gold,

switching sides, they’re now controlled.

Industrial captains, lay waste our home,

prepare the ground, for American Rome.

Senators and monuments reflect its disease,

a nation to loot, a nation to seize.

Bankers in haste with quickening guild,

seizing all assets for an empire to build.

And when it’s done and the cupboard is bare,

they start a new war to pad their new lair.

Gobbling resources in victim nations,

they seize control and cause inflation.

Consolidating power through Industrial smoke,

they blame the inhabitants, whom they choke.

They rape the land, poison the seas,

mine the forests, cut down the trees.

When all the assets then disappear,

they resort to climate, to keep them in fear.

Yet while they impoverish every nation,

by sanctions, austerity and inflation,

they war on the Arabs and the Slavs,

creating chaos with the weapons they have.

Global rents now strapped to rockets,

bombs surround their dreams,

arrogance disguised as liberty's freedom,

bathed in clouds of nuclear steam.

The other side reciprocates,

defending what is theirs,

while still inside their country,

the Russians do prepare.

Americans trash the treaties,

agreements they do tear,

and set the doomsday clocks ahead,

without a bloody care.

Yet while the storms unfold on Earth,

all blamed upon our cars,

Astronomy reports that climate changed,

on Neptune, Jupiter and Mars…

If all the money had disappeared,

mans greed would have ended,

But instead of sanity taking hold,

intelligence has been suspended.

Whispers

Whispers

Consciousness stirs within and all around us. It seeks our understanding, and whispers truth to the hearts of pioneers, who birth the evolution and steps of ascent towards an age of new enlightenment. Behold the defining moments of the world, each one a whisper of light by those who dared to listen.

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God speed John Anthony West (July 09, 1932 – Feb. 06, 2018)

John Anthony West: Pre Dynastic Egypt and the Sphinx

The Wheel

The Wheel

That sickly sound is in the air,

that grinding crushing noise,

the meme of ruthless business,

on people it destroys.

The thieving wheel extends its reach,

consolidating power,

controlling every industry,

communities they devour.

There was a time of honesty,

when many fortunes made,

but in the halls behind the bank,

were greedy thieves of trade.

They tolled the roads, controlled the wealth,

and sat upon the gold,

then pulled the plug on everyone,

made worthless stocks we hold.

Every sector on the wheel,

fell to criminal hands,

stolen by financial memes,

through economic plans.

Into their grasp all did pass,

on money carousels,

then to war, they brought us all,

these lethal Cancer cells.

The wheel returned from foreign shores,

new partners in their banks,

they left us all disgraced and poor,

while others built their tanks.

Today there’s not but tyranny,

free speech about to fall,

with bills that kill our freedom,

the wealthy have it all.

These corporate thieves enslaved our land,

game is set and done,

the only way to free ourselves,

is to change the way things run.

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About this Poem: Should be self evident, right? 😉

2nd Edit - 2020 Feb. 24

Minds of the Fallen

Minds of the Fallen

Programmed in schools are the hungry little sheep,

who grow up believing the stories they keep.

and as they get older the stories embed,

to become the foundation within their head.

Professors of rule then ask their opinion,

a backwards exam to conform the minion.

with the program in place each question a notch,

the answers displayed on the channels they watch.

Predictions requested of the most engaged,

believers in stories from the T.V. age.

magnetic ink maintains their mirror of words,

providing them answers and place in the herd.

Blind to morality and the light within,

they embrace propositions that lead to sin,

empowered by ego and commercial trends,

principals and virtues are the rules they bend.

That’s how the establishment controls the mind,

gets you to believe in their psychotic crime.

fabrication, lies, deception and deceit,

controlled by the few called the power elite.

They keep the masses busy, hungry and poor,

then sell them a bottle of spirits and war.

all packaged nicely on their network T.V.

an illusion of life by insanity.

For the wheel of industry, minds are prepared,

the beast and the monster that drives forth impaired.

your station depends on belief in the lies,

the more you believe the bigger the prize.

and at life’s end, when you’re lying in a room,

recounting moments that the wheel consumed,

you see the illusion, the part that you played,

the waste of a life in the time you engaged.

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About this Poem: The economic system in which we live does not serve the majority of humanity but a very small minority of people. It is a rigged system to make the masses subservient while a powerful few sit at the top consolidating power and economics through carefully drafted legislation made over the past 300 years. We are all programmed from the moment we are born to the moment we die. Our life is programmed to serve the system.

Indoctrination begins at a young age through a dumbed down education system, television programming, commercials, and a distorted history which is not allowed to be questioned. People work their entire lives feeding this system and then die never understanding their purpose in life or what the gift of life is…

The system, or “wheel” that we feed, destroys life. It does not benefit anyone with the exception of a very small group of parasitic thieves…it has to change or we will destroy life on this planet…

Prediction?...to make a prediction of what is to come in the year ahead, depends upon one weeding out all the trash, noise and lies flooding the mind by a system out of control…connecting the dots to see the trends requires one to research what they see and hear instead of accepting as fact the information they are told…unfortunately, the truth is not accepted by a greedy society, for most people anyways, because they have been programmed with garbage from a very early age. Today, most people accept what they are told as fact because a narrative was programmed within them at a very young age…

However, there are people who have woken up and are seeing clearly what is really going on in the world but their voices are being silenced by those that control the wheel of Industry and government halls. Free speech has been under attack for a very long time but recently has accelerated to a crisis point.

So rather than going into all the loose ends of geopolitics, economics and war, I decided to shine a little light in a very dark corner and do it generally…and so, I will predict one thing and I can guarantee it…that if we meet here again next year, nothing will have changed. The wheel of Industry and war will continue to consume life and no one will stand up to stop it…Because it doesn’t matter who is in power, weapons will be sold and many of them will be used by sociopaths in client nations to get what they want. Corporations will get bigger through consolidation, acquisition and hostile take overs and fall into fewer hands…the wheel of industry will impoverish millions more and the illusion of democracy will continue to be funded by deep pockets…i.e.: control of all parties by those with the largest shares of the pie…

Salvation

Salvation

I am spirit, I am wings,

I bring terror to tyrant kings.

I am here, I am now,

I am everywhere that I vow.

I am storm born, lightnings glare,

I am the soul’s protector n’ heir.

I am prophesized with a mark,

I am fire in the dark.

I am the watcher of the skies,

the oracle of the wise,

I am the hush of screams,

the voice in dreams.

I carry the future, and a warning,

empathy to the mourning,

I am the end to damnation,

I am your Salvation.

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About this Poem: The World inches closer to global war and annihilation but as 2016 came to an end, the lies of the west were laid bare in front of the global community…mainstream news was exposed for willfully spreading the sins of their government. All over the World, by virtue of the internet and independent thinking, the people have awakened from a spell that was cast over them by media propaganda. We now stare truth in the face…the lies have fallen, morals will be chosen as time closes in on the tyrants…Salvation is in the peoples grasp…it speaks to you in times of silence, and great upheaval to awaken you at the right moment, to fight for your freedom…and your Salvation. 

Little History Book

Little History Book

What words the victors’ gather for their coronation;

the lies of their illusions and nightmares, with title,

taught in little schools, by little men, from little books.

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About this Poem: ~ History is written by the Victors and not by the truth. ~ 

Evolution

Evolution

Life evolves by the planting of a seed...an idea...

resonating into light, to become a sea of profound changes.

Penumbra’s Gate

Penumbra’s Gate

Portals to infinity

so often unseen by most

catch the sorrows of my eyes

ponder my reflected ghost.

Shadows dark retreat in thought

to hypnotic moments, wait

for there in pools on cobble

the frame of Penumbra’s Gate.

It’s beacon calls attention

bending thoughts, to enter minds

hypnotic waves of darkness

that render victims’ blind.

My legs give way, fall to ground

no power to up and rise

that’s when they came to take me

pull me to the other side.

Yet, fear then drew more swiftly

it gathered me to my feet

as courage stood defiant

on Penumbra’s cobbled street.

Twilight imbues the crossing

as puddles dry and fade

uncertain of my bearings

or where my feet have strayed.

Streets are unfamiliar

with malefic atmosphere

demonic laughs from shadows

in voids all wrought with fear.

Frantic, I then start searching

for puddles that hold a door

the gate that pulled me in here

which I can see no more.

But then appears a lamppost

same beacon that drew me in

the scene, just one last puddle

reflects to where I’ve been.

To dash and cross on over

before its darkness expands

and drains the mirror puddle

to ensnare me with its hands.

Lunging forward to the ground

in speculum, eyes are fixed

to pull me through umbra’s door

where two worlds have surely mixed.

In a flash, the weight is gone

no darkness upon my back

from place where I just travelled

the puddle returns to black.

Pensive face checks out the scape

as I climb back to my feet

to see familiar buildings

upon my cobbled street.

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