You are only as old as you feel. And, also, somewhat, making a meal, when fashionable disguises, are, unpalatably real. An all too familiar; appetite for deception, or, destruction; boiling down to mutton, dressed as veal.
A diseased droplet of poisonous, septic bile, will contaminate the entire, antidoted vial. As the Janus’ faces; wear smiling frowns of guile. A frothing dribble at, each corner, of their mouths. Ready to kiss naïveté’s; unknowing, apathetic child.
The cancerous bacon rashers flash their cache of rinds. Whilst the purveyor, and, punters talk; porky pies. The subject of the, price of peace, creates porcupines; of prickly words. That make religion; a sin. The spieler’s prayers are; devilshly; delivered, sealed, and, signed.
Nightmares of vomit ridden delicatessens; regurgitating the meek, and, innocent’s; delicate essence. A force fed; growing up, for the poor, adolescents. “You can’t miss what you never knew.” A shallow consolation from maternal lessons.
Bursting guts of gluttonous swine; litter the landscape. Amid the landfill site where shifty, crooked, hands shake. Rats, bugs, gadflies, wasps, vermin, and, snakes. All feasting upon the remnants of the good. Meanwhile, ‘the future’, confesses sins; for the damned’s sake.
Can you not see? How the eye of Providence; took; taking the knee, from, a; symbol against racial oppression, and, turned it, into; a token gesture, of; clichéd ubiquity? Sensing, that; triviality breeds contempt.
Can you not hear? Those talking heads; happily regurgitating; the party line; year, after year, after year. And, no matter, the party bag, of; manifestos, debates, campaigns, pledges, and, “fresh ideas”, your suffrage, still, just, became; party games, of; pass-the-parcel, and, musical chairs.
Can you not smell? that manure, from; elected bulls, and, horses, that; democratic excrement, upheld, spread by empty hearts, and, heads, sheafed; by empty hands, unto; empty mouths, fed on; empty rhetoric; impelled, combined, and, harvested, in fields of constituent disappointment.
Can you not feel? a world, of; incarcerated prisoners; suffering, spiralling; their spirits squeal, their jail, is; bipolar, under; stars, and, sun, and, howling moon, a populi, shackled, to; terrafirma’s wheel, unspoken; their grief, is, always; roundabout.
Can you not taste? the air, of; uncompassionate attitudes, the sea of hypocritical platitudes; disgraced, their inability to empathise, or, attempt – to wear, the shoe, of, those; souls unsaved, an acerbic, acrid, acetic land awaits.
The false prophet, reveals; the aromatic secrets, you long to hear; as, long, as; they occur, after… nosing – your terminal diagnoses.
The mediocre medium, always has, a; cup half-full approach, snooting distastefully, when it comes to, client’s custom, for: spirits, sessions, seances, and, simony.
The blinkered seer, scorns; all other, visionaries, and, spits out; spiteful premonitions, whilst, feeling; unhappily-everafter.
And, all three zealots, in hindsight; look back, universally, due to, forever, being; seen, as the epitome, of; irony.
There is a grave disease, that has impregnated, and, perpetually attacks, the homo-sapien mentality. Far superior, in ailing humanity, than any pandemic.
That disease, is; an inflated sense of self.
Egocentrism.
A diseased religion; of the self. Symptomatic of, a human valuing only itself, as the God of self-governance, within its own, myopic, dogma of ego. A distinct regression has occurred, from, a psyche, looking outward, via empathy, to glean, an understanding, of one another. Instead, there is a; reductive, skewed, inhumane view, looking solely inward, through a selfish, blinkered, and, uncharitable lens. Used purely, to, aggrandise; self-worth, self-gain, and, self-achievement.
Human pride, and, arrogance, have erupted. Risen, to such a towering height, that they now pose, a daunting, grandiose cliff-face, from which, mankind is destined to, regrettably, tumble. For too long, societal; apathy, indifference, and, disillusionment, have been the leash, which has guided, the distracted masses, toward humanity’s fateful plummet.
Where once there was humility, now, there is conceit. Where once there was kindness, now, there is avarice. Where once there was compassion, now, there is callousness. The time has come, for mankind to, finish it’s freefall, from the lofty cliffs of narcissism. And, finally, be strewn, across the jagged rocks, of cosmic justice.
Human-beings, have taken it upon themselves, to, place their material, carnal, and, gluttonous desires, above all else. Above their fellow kin, above the sanctity of the planet, and, above, even, the Creator of the universe. Only, in the destruction, and, rebirth of, the sapient’s; feeble, corrupted, disconnected mind, can the Creator, and, the cosmos, begin to impart: true knowledge. Restoring, in the process; the nurturing nature of mother Earth, and, humanity’s, capability for; community, compassion, empathy, and, philanthropy.
Zero mercy, or, sympathy, should be alotted, to anybody, complicit, in the detriment of; society, the planet, and, the cosmos. The establishment’s system of finances, greed, and, promotion of hoarding worldly possessions, as well as, the spineless, ignorant silence of the masses, have become; tainted, golden, toxic tokens. Poisonous ducats, which have paid, for our doom, via; mortal, collective, and, deceptive hubris. We, humans, deserve, nothing less, than to pay, the ultimate price, for our cowardice, and, complicity, when faced with the forces of; wanton, globalist, and, dominative evil.
As a sentient being, doing nothing at all, allows; the lie to become the truth, the struggle to become the status quo, and, hatred to become the usurper of love.
A drastic change, needs to occur within our own, collective consciousness. We must, realise, these material trappings, for what they are. A temptation; a bribe; to tame the spirit, and, suppress the soul. We must obliterate them, along with, the divide, and, conquer tactics, which, only, serve to subjugate, and, seperate us.
Only, then, can we, collectively; restore, and, channel, the force of good, and, ruefully, dismantle, the force of evil.
Inevitably, your moments of; heartache, and, jubilation, sorrow, and, raucous laughter, will be momentary brushstrokes, of humanising colour, on an eternal, universal, canvas. It does not matter, if, post-use, your sapient, vehicular, corpus is; burnt, buried, or, embalmed. Every; thought, behaviour, and, action, made, in all conscience, must be accounted for, on your soul’s departure, from Gaia.
Just as, an ancient, Egyptian heart, must weigh, equal to, or, less than, the sacred feather of Ma’at. And, St. Peter’s keys, will only allow entrance, to the righteous, at the pearly gates, of the kingdom of heaven. The bearer of the soul, has, not only the mystical responsibility, but, the metaphysical obligation, and, duty, to be; morally and intrinsically: good.
Goodness is paramount to a clean conscience, and, more importantly, a clean soul. Spiritual; cleanliness, wholesomeness, and, goodness, are imperative, in order for the soul to continue, peacefully, on it’s supranatural journey, along the Milky Way, and, onto, the perpetual realms of yonder.
And, when, all is said, and, done, as your life, in all it’s ubiquity, magically, propels before you – like a feature film, or, flip-book, composed of; your natural essence, transfigured by, the shifting sands of time – will you be pleased with, how you; formed opinions, treated others, and, lived your life?
Or, will your soul, be burdened by; sin, loathing, and, regret? Forced to recount, every; hateful decision, every misinformed opinion, and, every missed opportunity, to form healthy human, and, spiritual bonds?
Your familial bloodline, and, genetics, may carry forth, or, they may not – that is, ultimately, out of your control. Yet, your opportunity to contribute, as many beautiful brushstrokes, to this; galactic masterpiece, as your life permits, is perfectly, within your grasp. And, in contributing with good; heart, mind, and, conscience, you enable your soul’s interstellar travel, to the stars; smooth, succinct, and, better yet, truly astounding.
All bonds, of virtue, that bind, righteously, will endure armageddon – not only, sororal, and, fraternal. Your body, will grow, languid, and, old, but, if wholesome, your soul, will spring eternal. And, while your body, may be, lost at sea, cremated in flames, or buried within Earth’s crust. Your before, your presence, and, your beyond, are, permanently crafted, by the moulded creation, of life, in stardust.
By flipping 999, urgently, Babylon is reluctantly uncovered, the oppressor arises, fervently, delivered, sealed and signed, to your doorstep, hurriedly, by an Amazonian, droning runner.
The online quarry, scurried-ly, is quietly, quickly mined, for data, to stone you, brutally, lapidating mankind in the gutter, serpents, demons; morph – mutably, atop infernal; BlackRock, undefined.
Devilish hands, are biting; toothily, cloven-hoofed and snarling glovers, stealing and swallowing, with impunity, every light that longs to shine.
Proxy-wars – created; “legally”, a Capital design, the Red Shields, gleam greedily, in earthly echelons of upper, when you seek the truth, objectively, then humbly you will find, that freedom’s fight is lost, detained, and, unsympathetically, smothered.
The corpse of; Lady Liberty, lies; unequivocally undermined, Her death is a lesson, in; futility, for everyone that suffers. Mutineers must unshackle, mentally, from this global garrison; where ligatured propaganda binds, before emancipating, gently, those divided, conquered, agonising; Others.
So, gouge and remove, that omnipotent; all-seeing eye, in an unblinkered revolution; blind and blur, be raging, rise up, rebel, intensely. Cause a prophetic fratricide, ending ever-gazing, watchful, sight, by young sibling’s – insurgency, overseeing the, sovereign fraternities, final supper.
Improve the vision of evolution, erase those deplored, despotic rulers, descry a world regime obliterated; a blazing orbit, cremating, the incarnate, robotic, abomination, we call our; Bigger Brothers.
This global villain is invictus, infinitely oozing “veni, vidi, vici”, with it’s modus operandi, of novus ordo seclorum, clamours of A.I.-based nuclear war, come from the establishment’s deformed Habsburg jaw.
Tenants are immorally and mortally evicted, the laymen scream, “it’s all Greek to me!!”, launching uncoordinated attacks with lazy hand-eyes, spinning webby yarns from a clacking keyboard; to an internetted forum, even the echo chamber’s bored, tired of the vox pop, and, the dull resonance outpoured.
As, the monopolistic hope, became; pain’s loving misanthrope.
A thickened plot of Masonic sorcery, seasons societies, economies, curricula, whilst Big Brother scopes melting pots, of citizens bred to earn a crust, be taxed and die, and, all-knowing; this, for certain, the final debt befalls the final curtain.
Propaganda polices, pigs out and purports to be, the hoi polloi’s mouth-piece; in particular, to be frank, the lingua franca tastes of colonial, malevolent monoglots, Babel’ing in their ivory towers, consuming all under the sky, plebeian thought-filled food is forsaken, unfound, and famished, the third estate is starved, malnourished, their main course of action remains revolting, yet, vanished.
And, finally, the monopolistic hope, dearly departs; a wholly poisoned antidote.
relationships, cause wrecks, when love is perilously shallow. Reluctant and scorned, the captains, dive into their slippery, ill-gotten, untitled, reckonings.
A backpedalling pool, of thick, cementing gruel, turning stomachs, into, trodden, broken, ceramics, and, once, placid waters, into, viscous, panics.
“King Cnut was awash, with humility, and, a gut-wrenching knot, in his defeat, to the seas, and, deemed them; majestic, Godly, and, hallowed. For, he knew, then, that his reign, could not stop, the rains of April, nor, reverse the ocean tides, despite his courtiers’ love, being perilously shallow.”
The salty waves, of harpoon-shaped tears, submit to sandy cheeks of forlorn, creating crestfallen beach tides. Memories resurface; embittered, and, resentful, as, sodden spite, is beckoning.
Frostbitten, arctic remarks, chisel those, once, bleeding hearts, into cold, scuppered; currachs. Punctured, and, capsized, from, ice-veined, blue-blood, it freezes, and, attacks; subverting, and, destroying the voyage; of doomed solicitude; when love is perilously shallow.
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