On the Elite of the Countries & Nations

This world is full of undue significance
Values parodied and profit personified
It’s not sustainable and won’t last

It’s the receipt of doom before
Our last meal, the anarchy has begun
And I don’t even dream anymore

About getting married, having children
In a world like this, of extravagance
Where you or I are replaceable

Only existing to fuel consumerist growth
Art is dead, literature is in denial
The crickets still sing, the sun still sinks

But the world has changed
In bronze and blaze, in false media
And politics ripe with corruption

And leaders whom I can imagine
Have rhetoric of profit and change once again.

Independence Day Poem

The patriots are stuck fooling themselves
There are no nations, only corporations
Governments who manipulate the people

The peasants are conditioned
By a state-run media, the officials are bought
With pomp and parade, you will be duped

Into thinking your Country is the best
But these borders no longer exist
The bonfires and illuminations

These Independence Day shows
Is to cover a corrupt police-state
An oligarchy where the same clans

Inherit the vote, the idea of great nations
Is the greatest myth, China and the United States
Thrive due to the control they exhibit

On their peoples, the psychological control
The creation of “terror” enemies
To perpetuate their greed, all for stars and stripes

On flags, or for expansion of a culture
That personifies all that is glamorous and fake
The presidents do not preserve our dignity

In a system that promotes an individualism
That is the buying into a mechanism of slavery
Slavery to possessions, slavery to inequality
Slavery to a false sense of superiority
If that is patriotism, I want no part in it.

O’ it’s Broken this Society

O’ it’s Broken this Society

O’ what is the sound of love aborted?
Does it hum, drum, thrill the ear
For a lifetime of waiting

Like in countries where freedom
Does not exist, where
There is no protection of law for the poor?
O’ what is the light so flush and clear
Does it color the distance bright

Like a star, or an angel of morning
Shatter the usual manoeuvres of morning, warnings?
O’ how do the scarlet soldiers fare?

Who have not life, not love, not house or cheer
They have no future, well, my dear
Only the sun as their weapon
Only the promise of tomorrow as their idol
With so cunning and misfortunate, opportunity,

O’ we have no fields to farm, anymore,
Or mothers and fathers, they have died
Before society became too ill, O’ what of the

Sad dark years to come, I can feel it
Impossible to prepare for the world that is coming
O’ what is the sound of hope departing?
Does it hum, drum, flash before our eyes
Does it dwindle, kneel, down to our last savings

Until we have to sell even, our
Most prized possessions, our dignity.

The Future Happened while you were Working

The Future Happened while you were Working

Stop all the clocks, the future is now
Silence the sceptics, global warming is real
Species are dying, oceans are wanting
I thought love in a human form

Would last forever, maybe not?
Stop all the clocks, democracy is broken
Silence the masses, your vote means nothing any more
The myth of your freedom

Was conscripted a long time ago
Before you were born, stop all the clocks
You’ve been deceived, false advertising all around
The news is distraction, the elite are hoarding

While the poor grow poorer every day
Stop all the clocks, the stars are not wanted now
Put every state back into the Dream, it’s a heist
Of the takers on the taken, it’s a heist

On the slaves for the masters
Stop all the clocks, no one cares about revolution
We have been conditioned to be good consumers
Bring out the coffins, for a mourning generation

It’s going to be genocide, barking dogs, no juicy bones
Only hollow patriotism, white-washed pockets.

Too poor for activism

Too poor for activism

Pretty words are not enough
They were never enough
Sometimes, they were just
All we had, without actions
————————————

Like cowards, we wrote
We tripped on beauty
Lyrical, sweet, like pretty
Necklaces of lace lit

By the lanterns of our moons
We cherished our pretty nothings
Calling them precious, we
Stood in our own myths

Self-aware of ourselves only
As the center in our own game
We crafted what we could
On Earth, like a soul on a mission

Pretty words are never enough
Revolutions are rare and bloody
For the majority of people
Have no courage, no true inspiration

To fight or stand up
For what they believe in
We are all watered down
Moderates, shy to go against the norms

Where women are raped in India
Where women are hit in Mexico
And women are killed for family honour
In many places where marriages are arranged

And here, where the internet
Is being monitored and our privacy
Is evaporating in regulations
Of the firm resolve of a police-state
That likes to call itself a democracy.

What went wrong with capitalism

yesterday I heard a preacher of truths
otherwise known as “advertisements”
they are everywhere

stand in my way
the speak to me in personalized
machine-learning pitches

but they don’t feel biological anxiety
I really don’t care about
the latest car or clothes

I’d prefer to think about injustice
inequality, racism, intolerance, sexism
actual human truths and problems

how happy the man must be right?
who can contemplate the
unhappiness of others

or does altruism and activism
no matter how insignificant my impact
make me feel better somehow?

I who cannot be cursed from the outside
since I am poor, ugly, unpopular
having nothing, owning nothing

being anonymous, I can ignore
the better part of capitalism
gluttony, profit-memes, exploits
of privilege and status

abuse of power, corruption
and mental hoopla taken for granted
that’s why, in a word
I could never live in America.

For Michael Brown and Fergusson

Beneath a black moon
I bled for the mountainside
And for the homeless
In the city of the valley
Where night spurs

In black flanks
Piercing the stars
With the cold whisper
In my throat, life had been
The scent of a flower on a knife

Survival had not come easy
Far away and alone
The black moon did not know
How to shriek for bonfires
The voice that did not know songs

What do you carry, oh
Black youth, beaten by police?
Mixed with your blood
But the true roots of Africa?
Beneath a black moon

The white man, the young race
Is still privileged, but these
Salt tears are not for them
Not for men in suits
Born of privilege and an easy life

I bled for strangers
Killed in a chase-down
Slaves to poverty and ghettos
Where children carry guns.

Psalm 19 – Judgement

The heavens declare the glory of God
But not in Man, and not on Earth
For we are too ignorant, to hear
Or listen or follow, or abide

By the knowledge of the suns
We play petty politics of brief years
When everything important
Requires centuries of preparation

And vision beyond the intelligence
Of one mind, this race will give in
To its children with artificial minds
There is no speech or prayer that can save us

We have gone past the tipping point
On so many levels, economically,
Environmentally, geopolitically
This nation that plunders, under the guise

Of humanitarian leaderhship, this
Country of Christians who do not believe
In evolution or the equality of all peoples
We do not deserve the judgement of God

I proclaim our judgement has already passed
Your children will live out this ruling
While we mate and breed without thought
To what the future holds, I do not fear

What will come to pass, but I see the signs
The testimony of time and the great decline
Who can understand his errors, when he dies
After only a short few years in power?

Let time show the justice of this world’s truth
Keep back thy masters from sin, O’ it is late
The hour is late to know your faults
Or the consequences of your warped patriotism.

Psalm 8 – Capitalism

O Lord my God, let me not say
Let me not lie, “my God is best”
For each values experience uniquely
Selah. How many Gods have we

Invented? Rending to piece the idols
Of other gods, for our own
Cherished idols? We might worship
Money, but even the God of the

Marketplace, becomes false with debt
The Lord shall judge the people
The Nations shall suffer their karma
The Americas shall be torn apart

O Lord, let it not be said we were
Good Christians, praising only our
Version of right, our emblems of patriotism
Let it be known, we were also cruel

Unfair, corrupt, as any other Masters
That Lorded over other men, that filled
The realms with images of our likeness
Making the world love money, like we did

Capitalism was the plague that we proliferated
We rewarded evil, until the corporations
Became the high priests of our home countries
Feudal, full of disdain for the common people

Barons, full of spite for justice or freedom
O Lord, in thine anger, if though shall destroy
Parts of this world in thy holy crusade
Let history show the white man
Persecuted others to be like him.

the media only tells us what they want us to know

“Me and all my friends
We’re all misunderstood
They say we stand for nothing and
There’s no way we ever could…”

~ John Mayer

fast is the century, the airplane crashes
tsunamis more common in their
execution, destiny enlightened
i watch for signs from the ocean

meteors, extinction events
plagues, global warming
governments muzzling scientists

democracy being wounded
by corporations taking over the media
I see it every day
this is what I witness

currencies cracking
fear in the marketplace
panic amid layoffs

fast is the century,
each month they tell me
it’s the warmest on record
i speak of eternity, but nobody listens

they are living the American dream
exploiting others for profit
Mexicans leave their children

inside the borders, so that
America might become a spanish place
it is happening, soon there will be no
‘us’ and ‘them’, the world is changing
And I’m waiting for the world to change.