Occupation

Occupation

Curled up in a little ball,

a boy from wounds of scorn,

vitriolic barbs embed,

where the spirits torn.

Terror enslaves the region,

population displaced,

his world now run by monsters,

in such a barren place.

He wakes to broken buildings,

but pangs of hope remain,

although in truth its dire,

brought on by the insane.

Food is scarce while safety’s worse,

water is fouled by hate,

occupation of his home,

by a terrorist state.

Swarms of Bullets whiz his ears,

as bandits bomb the land,

while captors answer pleas for help,

with a stinging hand.

Defiance is his weapon,

in eyes the real pain,

childhood gone, long ago,

taken by those insane.

Yet in the shadows distance,

in country side of tears,

shouts ring out within his heart,

to chase away his fears.

For in the storm that’s coming,

are hero’s strong and brave,

the army he’ll embrace again,

when they all are saved.

With terror’s back now broken,

the fighter’s power through,

restoring old foundation,

by bave-ry proud and true.

Jubilation sings its soul,

as welling tears bring joy,

dancing in the streets again,

for this orphaned boy.

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Edited Aug 21st, 2021

About this Poem: I wrote this poem during the liberation of Aleppo. It’s based on the belligerent occupations and injustice being experienced by the people of Syria, Palestine, Iraq, Yemen, Libya, and all other nations who have been under attack by US Imperialism, European Colonialism and their belligerent attack dogs.

Western Mainstream media also lies to its audience about what is really happening in foreign affairs. They have become the Orwellian ministry of propaganda for western Imperialism and by doing so, destroy the fabric of democracy in their own nations.

The following lines were a part of this poem but edited out. They remain here in the authors notes as a statement of truth.

“Lies are swallowed in the west,

by apathetic minds,

compassion lost, morals gone,

while moving forward blind.”

Painting from the Soul

Painting from the Soul

Creation brings reflection,

in the paintings of the soul,

quiet moments, visions,

they combine to make one whole.

New canvas of confession,

a blanket of fallen snow,

inspirations from the past,

emotions begin to flow.

Reds of broken essence ride,

greyish outlines dark with scorn,

shards of language so imbued,

by the pains of being born.

Orange sways indifference,

compassions absolve the breech,

flowers pining forgiveness,

by moments tinged in peach.

Pastel waters, calming themes,

emotions absorbed in light,

tans and browns foundations built,

where a bridge appears from white.

Brushstrokes blue with empathy,

soft tones hail the rising sun,

forgiveness dreams on canvas,

from the days when there was none.

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If only I could paint and provide a proper photo. ;) 

Capital Fraud

Capital Fraud

A Family business, moral by oath,

builds community with positive growth.

An Important link in the chain of needs,

providing goods in the hamlet it feeds.

Yet in the world of capitalist yoke,

the greedy play games, under a cloak.

The competition, desires your shop,

begins a war, sets the prices to drop.

With pockets so deep, thanks to the bank,

rivals squeeze you, until you tank.

With no place to go, except you know where,

the banker advises, stock market share.

Wall street vortex and banking memes,

devouring companies by fraudulent means,

A gamblers pit with rules of the streets,

their markets rigged by financial cheats.

The company lost through a sale of stock,

all bought up by the penny hawk.

And now your business is owned by the bank,

the hawk who sold you and the one to thank.

Acquired now by your competition,

who backed the bank by his own admission.

Market share gained, who’s next on the block,

the Corporate meme begins to stalk.

Barbaric world of robbers and thieves,

they prey on the innocent who believe.

When nothing’s left and the market is bought,

they turn their eyes in and feast on the lot.

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About this Poem: Capitalism begins with good intentions but always ends up in self destruction through greed.

Greed is driven by a criminal private banking system that is ultimately owned by a few wealthy banking families. These Banks feed off of community like parasites which is why we are all subject to paying higher rents, mortgages and taxes.

These banking families also control and run the stock markets, which are their own private gambling halls. All of it has been legalized by corrupt government officials and for a very long time. Today, people think of Private Banks and the Stock Markets as normal because they were born into the system not knowing that they are actually economic slaves to them.

The entire “Private Banking System” and stock market is completely fraudulent and needs to be addressed if we are to save society from extreme poverty. The solution rests in changing the way government and banking works.

America the Beautiful (2018 Version)

America the Beautiful (2018 Version) 

O beautiful the chemtrail skies,

Monsanto waves of grain,

the coal filled mountain companies,

above the oil spill plain!

America, America!

Your god is on its knees,

elections rigged by criminals,

who drive the corporate schemes.

No immigrants allowed to come,

your stern impassions stress,

who come from lands that you destroyed

these people in distress.

America! America!

Your God is on its knees,

confirms thy soul, no self control,

and no morality.

...And overseas your army proved,

that they create the strife,

egocentric monsters loose,

no mercy for any life,

America! America!

Your evil is refined,

untouchable by your decree,

for all your warring crimes.

The laws you make, are filled with hate,

your moral compass dead,

your cities filled with human tears,

where poverty is spread!

America! America!

Your god wont take a knee,

Obama, Clinton, Bush and Trump

your symptom of disease.

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By: The Activist Poet

About this expression: Truth is our greatest weapon, especially when one waves this flag in the face of power...

I’m not an American so I cannot be patriotic to America but I can be patriotic to the truth and so for Black History Month, I decided to create this truthful spin on an American patriotic song...I'm angry with what the US Government is doing all over the World but I’m also angry on what it is doing in its own country...What do you think?

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The Lyrics and story behind the original song can be found at the following link:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/America_the_Beautiful

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.

-----------------------------------

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…

Just Another Day

Just Another Day

A soulless stare with demons’ eyes,

counts his money with surly wry.

A coin for lodging, a coin for sleep,

a coin for water n’ wine to keep.

Now rest away your weary head,

a good night’s sleep on cardboard bed.

Clock is ticking, conserve your strength,

tomorrows work, three coins for length.

Eyes wide shut while time does fade,

to dungeons dark were walls decay.

Screams and sirens pierce the night,

fouling dreams till mornings light.

And then awake, the roomers call,

it’s check out time, beside the mall.

Face unshaven, clothes all haggard,

direction plain, walk is staggered.

Hunger bites its morning blues,

now coming down from the booze.

A soulless stare with empty eyes,

arrives at work, disorganized.

The day is long, three coins are paid,

now journey’s back, to where he stayed.

A soulless stare with demons’ eyes,

counts his money, with surly wry.

A coin for lodging, a coin for sleep,

a coin for water n’ wine to keep.

-----------------------

About this Poem: 

Society lives in a prefab illusion where people are willing captives in bondage to an economic system that is no better than slavery. The painful truth of a corporate programmed society…

One of the escapes chosen by people is alcohol which carries a demon inside. All too often its use becomes a routine that slowly steals the health and mind of its victim. Apathy towards societal change is all too common due to its creeping theft of will power and memory, which is why this industry is controlled by the criminal establishment.

Remembrance Day

Remembrance Day

Remembrance Day of long ago,

temper these aging eyes,

essence gone, that comes to life,

in grey November skies.

Silhouettes moving slowly,

parade my inner thoughts,

with Bayonets at ready,

their emotions tied in knots.

The trenches filled with soldiers,

waiting for bombs to stop,

in search for some damned reason,

to charge over the top.

Reliving moments gone,

life passes before their sight,

apologies made for wrongs,

with wishes to make them right.

And then the truth comes knocking,

it rears its ugly head,

and paints astonished faces,

on all the soldiers’ dead.

Bloody mud and empathy,

where lay the soldiers dreams,

are children lost forever,

to sick psychotic memes.

Lifeless now their bodies lay,

their spirits carry on,

all lost amongst the shadows,

of the millions who were wronged.

The people bought a story,

sons and brothers sent to die,

in someone else’s homeland,

the reasons just a lie.

Generals take their orders,

from economic forums,

receive another medal,

adding to decorum.

Final letters make it home,

all written months before,

carried to the grieving,

by a knock upon the door.

With promise to remember,

a day is set aside,

but hidden, is the reason,

for why it is they died.

Today I do remember,

who’s lives for me were given,

but the bastards who sent them there,

will never be forgiven.

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BY: The Activist Poet

Sanctuary

Sanctuary

Sanctuary awaits weary travelers on forest roads,

where natures energy rains down on tattered souls,

to wash away the crippling pain inflicted by mechanical cities.

Steel bars fade from sight and open eyes,

while muscles drift with each relaxing breath,

confusion dissipates in the gentle breeze…

Awareness mingles with enlightenment,

and expands with excitement across fields of light,

where angelic beacons guide our essence through onyx clusters,

to take us home.

Home to the glittering fountain of light that gave birth to our existence, we but magnetic ink flickering before the god of consciousness are absorbed in radiance and made whole again with promise of return.

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2nd Draft - June 06, 2017