THE RAT AND THE PREGNANT WOMAN


A story poem

BY

Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya;[email protected])



Dedicated to;
My mother Neddy Nabisino Mayende Kuloba Makhakara
And her mother Maritini Nabengele Nasenya Mulemia Namugugu Ilungu wa Wenwa.
The story telling power of these two ladies is the primary source of my passion and love for humorous and peace bettling stories. I owe them all the recognitions.







OPENING SONG
How do I start telling this story that I got from my
Grandmothers when sited around the fire yard in the evening?
I don’t know how to start surely,
For to day I am very shy; all of your eyes
Are on me, looking at me like ocean of looking organs
But let me embolden my self with the belt
Of a story teller that my grand father gave me
And commanded me to preach peace
Through story telling in every place I go
So my spiritual service to humanity is telling stories
Is to soothe and heal wounds of humanity
By softly telling peaceful stories
Let me then cough to clear my voice and start;

Long time ago, but not very long time
Some where between the centuries of twelve hundred
And seventeen hundred after the death of the other Jewish
Story teller who died without a wife, who died on the cross
But others say he died on the stake, his name was Jesus,
There existed only two kingdoms in land which is known today
As Bukusu land found in the present east Africa or Indian Ocean coastal Africa,
The first occupants of this vast land is the sons and daughters of Babukusu
Or the ones who like selling ironsmith products
And hence the name the people of Bukusu; the people who sell,
The two kingdoms were the Kingdom of muntu and the kingdom of manani
The citizens in the kingdom of muntu were short men and short women
Handsome and beautiful, slender and not assertive in their physical disposition
But the citizens of the kingdom of manani were all cyclopic,
In their everything; the manner of walking, talking farting, micturating
Farming, breathing, snoring, smiling, singing, whispering
Their whisper was a noisy as the tropical thunderclap
They were tall men and tall women, very tall
Their young person was as short as the tallest
Person in the kingdom of muntu,
When one of the citizen of manani snores
All the citizens of Muntu along together with,
Their king Walumoli wa Muntu had no option
But remain awake throughout the night,
Because the cacophony of a snore from
The sleeping courts of Manani was not bearable,

On many occasions Walumoli wa Muntu
The conscientious king of the muntu kingdom
Had arranged to talk to Silinki wa Namunguba
The ostensible king of the Manani Kingdom
About the cacophonous sleep robbing
Snores of daughters and sons in neighbour kingdom of Manani
Only to cow and chicken away in a feat of prudence
Lest Silinki wa Namunguba will suspect him for being
A night runner or a thief of *** perhaps
Who roams his compound during the wee of the night
In hunt of any of Namunguba’s wife maybe
Perchance having gone out for a mid-night *******,
This is how legendary snores of the sons and daughters
Of Silinki wa Namunguba the king of Manani
Has remained unchecked for ever till today,

One time an ugly passer by happened to be seen
Traversing the kingdom of muntu
In the early afternoon some two
Hours after Walumoli the king
Had just cleared the last plate
Of the mid day meal from
His last wife Khatembete Kho Bwibo Khakhalikaha Nobwoya
He always eats her food last in the afternoon
Because it comes on the table steaming youthfulness
He loves his Khatembete wife, the wife of his old age
The wife he married by use and show of the royal regalia
The powers and dignity of the king of muntu
He married her when he his a king, the scepter in his hand,

Going back to the ugly passer by
It was never known where he came from
Not from the east where the Indian Ocean is
Not from the west where the vastness of the land
Of black people of Baganda and Bacongo
Baigbo and Bayoruba or Bafulana of Nigeria
Or the sons of Madiokor Ngoni Diop in the Senegal,
Not from the south from shaka the Zulu and Mandella the wise one
Not from north in the land of Dinka and Nuer, Ethiopian Jewish and the Egyptians,
The passerby was ugly and from no where, in a dress and
A very ***** dress that fumed out a malodorously stenching reek
He was a man in attires of a woman; this was a taboo in the land of muntu
He was left handed and a heavy weight stammerer, with an appalling
Protuberation of   a hunched back, an enormous hunchback
Enmassing entired of his masculine shoulders,
When the wind blew his loose dress followed it
Leaving the man’s thighs and then bossom naked,
Leading bystanders to a strange discovery; he was not circumcised
He was old like any other father, he had beards
But not yet circumcised, his ***** ends in corkscrew of a sheath,
This was a taboo in the land of muntu, in the kingdom of muntu
Which Walumoli wa Muntu the son of Mukitang’a Mutukuika ruled
For the spirits, gods and ancestors as well as foremen of the kingdom
Behooved that all male offsprings of the kingdom of muntu
Whether born in marriage or out of the wedlock
Born the blood or born as a ******* must and must be
Circumcised in the early teen hood
They must be circumcised before they grow the hairs
On the face, on the chest, in the scapula and on the areas
Surrounding the testicles, the **** and the endings of the backbone,
The man again had six fingers on the legs and on the hands
He walks slowly like a porcupine, his dress was in tartars
He was violent to every one he met
Insulting old people and old women with words
Of bad manners not used in the kingdom of muntu,
He terrified and beat young children, including the royal children
And grand children of Walumoli the king of muntu
He again had to beat and chase nine young virgins
Who had come from the palace of Walumoli the king of Muntu
Away from the forest when they picking fire wood
As well as playing a game of hide and seek with other palace lads,
The ugly passer by then chased to get hold of the
Nalukosi the first born daughter of
Khatembete Kho Bwibo Khakhalikaha Nobwoya
The beloved last wife of the king of Muntu
All other virgins ran home, but Nalukosi remained behind
In the inextricable grip of the ugly passer by
She screamed with hysteria of a hypochondriac
She screamed and kicked with her wholesome mighty
The stubborn passer by never left her alone
She gnawed the ugly passer by with
Her girlish claws of her fingernails
But is like the passer by was mentally disordered
He was a ******* of some time
He derived some pleasure and instead
Enjoyed the girlish scratches of his captive,
Before the eight running virgins reached the palace
Together with their companions, the playmate lads
The shrilling scream of the captive Nalukosi
Was sharply heard at the palace, first by King Walumoli
Who called his wife Khatembete Kho Bwibo Khakhalikha Nobwoya
To come out of the hut, the kitchen and help to listen,
Immediately Mukisu wa Mujonji the palace keeper surfaced
His face displayed genuine askance of an adept military man
Whose martial arts have rusted for a week without usage
He confirmed to the king that the cry from the forest
Is of the one from this royal home of your majesty the king
And none other than the ****** princes Nalukosi Mukoyonjo
The pride of her father, the eye of the palace,
Without hesitation the king permitted the wallabying Mukisu ,
Permission to run in a military dint and find out whatever that
Was eating Nalukosi Mukoyonjo the familial heart of the king,
Mukisu wa Mujonji who was clearly known in the kingdom of muntu,
For his swift running like a desert kite, he already twice chased
And gotten single handedly two male gazelles,
Without aid of a dog nor aid of fellow hunters
And delivered them to the king as a present to the palace
Which he achieved because of the speed of his legs,
On this royal permission he unsheathed his matchette
And went away like any arrow from the bow
His shirt trailing behind him like mare’s tail
Or like the flag on the post on a windy day,
Not a lot of time passed.
Mukisu wa Mujonji is at the spot of struggle,
Between Nalukosi and the Ugly passerby
There was no question or talking,
The first thing was Mukisu to sink the Matchette
With all of his mighty into the tummy of the ugly stranger
The bowels of the ugly stranger opened puffwiiii!
He breathed and gasped twice then succumbed to death.
His grip still strong on the leg of Nalukosi Mukoyonjo
The ugly passer by reached the rigor Mortis
When Nalukosi was still strongly gripped in his
Beastly hand, Mukisu wa Mujonji with all the skills
Used a Sharp matchette again; chopped of the hand
Of the ugly dead passer by off, from its torso
At the point of the muscular elbow,
Now Nalukosi was extricated, but not fully
From the grip of the dead ugly stranger,
The chopped off hand is still knotted at her leg
Around her leg, the dead hand also grips.
Nalukosi jumped here and there to throw away
The leg and the dead hand, but it was not easy to throw
The hand still stubbornly gripped around her angle,
*** time passed, each and every one of the kingdom came
Including the king Walumoli wa Muntu himself
And his nine wives, Khatembete Khobwibo Khakhalikha Nobwoya
Came last, as she was energyless due to rudely shocking tidings
Which the escaping virgins and lads had given her
That the ugly passer by had turned into the ogre
And had swallowed her daughter Nalukosi
That he had swallowed her piecemeal without chewing,
People of muntu came and found the ugly passerby dead
The left had chopped off its torso
But still hanging loosely on the leg of Nalukosi
Nalukosi jumping, kicking, screaming
Screaming away the dead hand from the grip of leg
But nothing had forthcame her way,
Walumoli wa Muntu could not afford to see
The hand on the leg of her beloved daughter
What could he tell his wife, is your all know
Dear reader and audience to this song;
Even the mighty and the wise ones
Generously bend when under the pressure of love,
Out of this dint, even before Mukisu wa Mujonji
Could display his next military card
Walumoli wa Muntu grapped the dead hand
That stuck of the leg of her daughter
And pulled it with another force that
No man born of woman has
Never used since the creation of the earth
By the gods and spirits of Muntu,
The hand come off, he throw it
On the cadaver of the ugly stranger,
He clicked and clicked and hissed
With anger like a wild turkey
In the African thorny forest,
He ordered the dead one to be buried
Their without haste, nor ceremony
Mukisu wa Mujonji buried the body
Quickly in a brief moment with precision
As if he was taking notes
From the lines of the poem
OF Pablo Neruda on how
To bury a dog behind the house
This time burying an ugly stranger
Behind the forts of the kingdom,
After all these women, children and men
Of muntu plus their king Walumoli
Went back to their houses hilariously
Broken into a song and a wild *** dance;
Makoe eehe! Makoe !
Nifwe Talangi Makoe !
Talangi!
Khwaula embogo sitella
Nifwe Talangi!
They sang up to midnight before
They all retired to their beds
Respective beds with panting thoraces
From heavy singing and dancing.

There is connection and disconexion between
The living and the dead, the living fear the dead
And dead loves the living,
The dead want the company of the living
For the living to accompany in the land of the dead,
When the ugly stranger was killed
And buried uncircumcised with the hunch
Not plucked out of his back
The gods and the livings dead
In the realm of the ancestors
Of the kingdom of Muntu were not happy,
They never wanted uncircumcised old man
With a hunch back to join them
And worse enough with the six fingers,
The gods and ancestors really god annoyed
That Walumoli wa Muntu has done them bad
He is only caring for the living, the pre-mortals
Especially his last wife and the daughter
But he has neglected the ancestors,
Why trash to ancestors a stark humanity,
They communed among themselves
And resolved to sent Namaroro
The god of dreams, dreams as messages
From the ancestors and dreams from the gods
Namaroro visited Namunyu Lubunda the palace
Prophet in the Kingdom of Muntu to pass
The message vesseling unhappiness of the ancestors
And gods in a blend of gloomy read to execute
A vendetta;
This is when in the wee of the night that Namunyu Lubunda
Dreamed and had a vision of a old man from
The east is warning of the coming long spell of starvation
That will befall the kingdom of Muntu for ten years
                                      That Namaroro told Namunyu Lubunda
As for ten seasons of foodlessness
Behold a begging kingdom
Behold a starving throne,
The scepter of Muntu is a disgrace
To the holder
Then Namunyu Lubunda set forth by dawn
To the Palace to meet Walumoli wa Muntu
In his, palace before any other royal chores come up,
Both good and bad luck combined
Only to have Namunyu Lubunda to get the king at the palace
He got him fresh and relaxed chewing the cup of fortune
In his full ego, all his wives had submitted to the morning dishes
To his dining hall in the palace, he moved his hands from
One plate of food to the other.
Namunyu Lubunda entered with a submissive salutation
To the royal, He bowed and declared the glory of the king
In typical standards of the ethnic composition of the house of Muntu
Walumoli wa Muntu Mukitang’a Mutukuika
Majave Kutusi Mbirira Omwene esimbo ya
Kumukasa,
Walumoli responded with a feat of dignity to Namunyu Lubunda
The palace prophet, as he roared to him; come in
Come in son of Lubunda son of our people,
He did mention the name of Namunyu Lubunda father
As he fears his words may escape with the power
Of his kingdom the scepter of Muntu
To other insignificant families in the kingdom,
Let me announce what brings me here; intoned Namunyu
Go ahead and announce my holiness
s the prophet of this kingdom; responded Walumoli,
Misfortune is awaiting the kingdom
It will eat this kingdom away
Like a ravenous hyena on the ewe’s tail
The ancestors and the spirits of this land
This kingdom of yours the son of Muntu
Are immensely offended with your recent behaviour
In which you commandeered all villages
In your kingdom; from east and west
The **** the innocent passer by
With your owner hands that handle the scepter
You killed and lay to rest the foreigner
A pure omurende to the kingdom of muntu
You buried him uncircumcised without contrite
In the cemeteries of our foremen who asleep and circumcised
Why did you lower the dignity of our forefathers
Who never share a roof with uncircumcised person
To share the ancestral realm; our emagombe
With hunchback foreigner not circumcised?
This kingdom is condemned to all spell of curse of death
Ceaseless hunger famines and starvation
Women dwindle in their reproductive capacity
Rarely will you come across a pregnant woman
Food will be difficulty to put on the table
Even the sweat of your brow will go to naught,
You will not be buried with insignia
Like a pauper you killed will you be buried
The house of your wife Khatembete Kho Bwibo
Khakhalikha no bwoya is a house of no consequences
For even your daughter Nalukosi stands cursed
She will not mature to be wedded into a marriage
She will hover the earth under heavy agonies of hunger,
My assignment is done and over
With or without your permission let me go.









THE FIRST SONG
Our song continues dear brethren
Come join me in arms we sing
Joyous singing of these songs of peace
Telling the world peaceful stories
As we enjoy sitting together around my grandmothers fire yard
Warming our selves to her lovely fire inherent in her good stories,
These songs will sing the glory and success of the king of Manani
It is an irregular Ode to Silinki wa Namunguba the son of Mwangani,
The son of Tunduli, the son of Wajala Njovu, the son of Welikhe, the son
Of manyorori, the son of Chumbe, the son of Kajo, the Son of Mabati, the son of welotia,
The son of sikele sia mulia, the son of Toywa,the son of siruju, the son of Mango, the son of Mulwoni sinyanya Bakhasi, the son of Mbakara , the son of Makhakara wa Nambuya, the son of Mukoye mulala kukhalikha w0nga, the son of Zumba the son of God.
Silinki

I'm a gamer
The things I do
Mapped new worlds
Slain a god or two
Blown up stars
And lead revolutions
Gained experience
And Increased my Constitution

Drove a tank
A star-ship
A dragon
Killed a zombie horde
Drank some mead from a flagon

I've built cities
and worlds
and life
I've ended wars
and Famines
and strife

I've lived more lives than one can live
I've seen the work of hundreds in the span of moments
More personal  than literature

1.

Is it a will o' the wisp, or is dawn breaking,
That our horizon wears so strange a hue?
Is it but one more dream, or are we waking
To find at last that dreams are coming true?

2.

Far off and faint, a golden line is streaking
The cloudy night that shrouds the life of man;
It is the sun that dim eyes have been seeking,
Through all blind pathways, since the world began.

3.

The sign to weary heart and waiting nation
That day will come to bring them their release
That, late or soon, through storm and tribulation,
Or with slow change, the earth shall rest in peace.

4.

That One, invoked, with half- despairing passion.
Through years and years of wrong, will right us then;
Will take away, in rude or gentle fashion,
The curse that man has laid on brother- men.

5.

Ah, blessed One! our souls go out to meet thee,
At whose feet Hope will fold her tired wing;
And yet we know not how we ought to greet thee,
And take the gifts thy bounteous arms will bring.

6.

Come not, O friend! with vengeful weapons, borrowed
Of them that warred against thee — sword and flame;
For all alike have suffered and have sorrowed,
And all alike have sinned against thy name.

7.

Come thou to men who groan in sore affliction
A breathing spirit of new life and grace;
Come in thy robes of light and benediction,
That all may recognize thy perfect face.

8.

Yet, as thou must, come soon, for them than need thee —
And thou wilt come — Deliverer great and strong!
Brighten, O tender dawn, though few may heed thee,
And bring the day that we have sought so long!

9.

No class strife then, each man against his neighbour,
No waste, no want, to breed the plague of crime;
No insolent pomp, no hard and sordid labour,
No wars, no famines, in that happier time!

10.

But pleasant homes, and good days growing better;
Contented hearts throughout the tranquil land,
That keep the law, in spirit and in letter,
Which we have been so dull to understand.

11.

And fruitful work, instead of barren duty,
With fruitful rest and leisure interweaved;
And life made bright with plenty and with beauty,
And souls made strong with noble aims achieved.

12.

Great Art, no more the plaything of the idle,
But nurse and handmaid to all human needs;
Great Nature, curbed no more with bit and bridle,
Nor men's religion crushed in bitter creeds.

13.

Nor sacred Love a crime, a jest, an error,
To keep or lose, to give or to suppress,
A secret shame, an anguish and a terror,
A curse to them that it was meant to bless.

14.

All round our narrow lives the tide encroaches,
Distant and dim, but spreading far and fast.
O Liberty, thy longed- for reign approaches
That is to give man's birthright back at last!
vasts;

15.

And must we go, who see the new age dawning,
While yet we suffer in the pangs of birth,
Nor breathe one breath of the divinest morning
That yet has come to bless our waiting earth?

16.

Oh, must we go, just when the day is growing?
Oh, must we waste with vast and vain desires,
Like sparks put out when viewless winds are blowing,
We, lit and quickened with supernal fires

17.

Are we to read no more the wondrous pages
Of this great tale that evermore goes on?
Will suns and stars light up eternal ages
With happier worlds — and we alone be gone?

18.

Never to learn the moral of the story —
Why we have toiled for what we must not keep,
Why we have fought to win no crown of glory,
Why we have sown what unborn hands will reap.

19.

Never to learn wherefore our Maker sent us
With these immortal passions in our breast.
Ah me! Ah me! Wherewith can we content us
To know so much, and not to know the rest!

You might not remember my goodbye, but there were white walls. Around 9pm, a handful of other people, and the beating of a silent angel’s wing.

You might not know this, but that wasn’t a goodbye. It was too rushed, too ******, not enough space for letters to form, full of run-ons, no commas, no semi-colons, very messy, no— that was the goodbye in my head, but what I actually managed to whisper was full of commas, full of semi-colons, had too much pauses. But no stops. No periods. My goodbye was unfinished.

It went something like,

“I love you… I won’t let anything happen to the place you love most…. I will write about you, about your family; I won’t let them forget about—”

See? My goodbye was an outline. With Roman numeral number one being "I love you..." so,


I. I love you

   A. I love you; what more is there to say?
   B. Here it is: I love you
   C. And I will continue to love you

       1. long after my tongue forgets how to say your name because I know I won’t be saying it out loud anymore

      2. long after your bed exhales the engraving of your body on its sheets and I forget what sleeping beside you feels like

      3. long after the sound of sirens and wars and famines and earthquakes try to push the sound of your radio out of my mind (I will miss that radio)


II. I won’t let anything happen to the place you love most

   A. where is the place you love most?

      1. I hope the place you love most is within reach and not somewhere I can't go to

      2. or maybe it’s the place you call home, or maybe it’s who you call home

      3. I hope the place you love most is somewhere where I’m next to you

   B. I hope I can keep this promise


III. I will write about you

   A. how you
      1. once ate tortang talong everyday for two years — simply because you loved it

      2. keep everything — that eleven year old bar of Safeguard you once showed me, the children’s picture book Bible you’ve had since you were nine, and my letters you never replied to… I remember always writing apologies for snapping at you, now I’m writing eulogies and I don’t know how to stop

   B. how you love

      1. not with your words —  maybe words tired you because people don’t always remember words exactly as they were, but they do remember the way they were looked at, and when you’d look at me like that, I was suddenly fine with the way you kept your I love yous to yourself; they spill from your eyes anyway

      2. with your hands — you liked to fix my messes: from algebra equations to broken picture frames; you liked to answer my questions: where is north? who were the other men on the moon? what did you say when you had to say goodbye? I never asked you that last question, but maybe I should have so that I would have been more prepared for this moment and not would not have to have said goodbye to you in the form of an outline

   C. about your family

      1. I will start writing about them once I’ve figured out how to stop writing about you

      2. so I guess I might never be able to write about them

IV. I won’t let them forget about



And here ends my goodbye because I decided that I would be undecided about what I won’t let people forget. Let me remind them freely, without a guide to follow, just things about you I only realize later on actually meant something. And now I realize that that goodbye holds a lot of promises, and I need to tell you honestly… these days… I don’t write about you and I don’t think about you and I don’t see you everywhere anymore. And sometimes I don’t miss you. And I don’t know if that is a sign that I have healed, or if I’ve just simply chosen to ignore the symptoms of something much worse. But these days I swear I’ve been trying. Trying to let you in my dreams again. Trying to write more fragments and phrases and outlines and fulfilled promises. Trying to let you make your way into my words again, until my goodbye becomes a see you later. Until I someday write you back.

The Garden

As the Parent stood looking out the window
At their beautiful young daughter playing in the garden with a friend
They could only marvel at what they saw, a Beauty so delightful, so vibrant and alive
Dancing about, so light of foot and with a laughter so carefree
So youthful and so radiant looking,
And when she smiled it was like she smiled with her whole being
From somewhere deep deep down inside her...
"O! Youth, wondrous youth and innocence", thought the Parent, "such a beautiful time and a beautiful sight to behold
Untouched by this world, all her skies, they were blue
A darling child facing out into a loving abundant Universe"
The Parent smiled and nodded their head
All was well yea! All was good in the Garden.

                  The Tree of Good and Evil

But then there came a day when the daughter approached their parent saying
"My friends they all have phones so they can keep in touch with one another, and they can play their favourite songs, I feel a bit left out, I'd love to have a phone too"
Now the Parent could never refuse their lovely daughter anything
So a few days later they presented her with a brand new sparkling phone (just as she had wished)
She was thrilled, this lovely new shiny thing in her hands, this wonderful new toy... plaything
"Now I'll be able to keep in touch with my friends and play my favourite songs" she enthused
But then the Parent introduced a note of caution, they said "You must be careful, there are dangers...dangers out there
They told her of some websites they knew calling them"healthy wholesome sites"
They warned "Stay on these sites, their good safe sites,
Don't stray!... Don't stray onto the Internet!!"
The daughter was a little perplexed by this, she wondered what 'dangers' were
This was something new to her innocent mind.

                               The Fall

Now the Parent had to go away for a few days on a business trip
When they returned they hastily dropped their bags in the hallway
And rushed again to the window, rushed to see the one they valued most in this world
The One they loved above all... their most precious daughter
What they saw though sent a cold chill through their heart
For there was a difference now, a noticeable change in her
No longer was she fleet of foot, now they detected a hesitancy in some of her movements
And her laughter too, had changed, now it came only in short bursts
Not the lovely rippling giggly carefree laughter of old
There was also a pensive air about her, something which hadn't been there before,
And for someone who used to like their time spent alone
Now she seemed to cling onto her friends more
As if now she was afraid they might leave her
As if now she was afraid of being left alone with herself.

The Parent grew worried watching her, so they went out into the garden
"Daughter!", they said, "Is there something wrong ?" Are you not well?"
The daughter's eyes were downcast, it was like she was almost ashamed to look them in the eye
She nervously fingered her phone in her pocket
And then she said something... something strange, not like her at all
She said "The Planet... the Planet is dying"
"What!", said the Parent, "who told you the planet was dying, who told you this ?"
She went on "And there's Bad men with terrible weapons, there's wars! diseases!! famines!!! "
"Who told you all this ?" again asked the Parent, "who told you ?"
The daughter took out her phone and looked at it rather guiltily
She said "One of my friends showed it to me on the Internet"
The Parent said "We warned you Love, we told you to stay away from the Internet
The Parent then bent down and looking their little daughter in the eyes they said
"Sweet darling child , don't be afraid ! You were made pure...pure and strong, invincible in the face of this world
You mustn't fill your mind full of these dark things
These dark black clouds that will only block, clog up your beautiful skies
Dim the radiance of your magical radiant life"
But the daughter she replied almost resignedly "I know now that before when I was happy I was just living in ignorance
I know now this is how people are meant to be... and to feel. I feel I've grown up now".

As she turned and went back to her playmates the Parent thought sadly
"Now she'll have to decide, to look within, to find herself again...to regain her old self...her old smile
Or else, more dangerously... she'll have to wander...to seek outside".

War broke: and now the Winter of the world
With perishing great darkness closes in.
The foul tornado, centred at Berlin,
Is over all the width of Europe whirled,
Rending the sails of progress. Rent or furled
Are all Art's ensigns. Verse wails. Now begin
Famines of thought and feeling. Love's wine's thin.
The grain of human Autumn rots, down-hurled.

For after Spring had bloomed in early Greece,
And Summer blazed her glory out with Rome,
An Autumn softly fell, a harvest home,
A slow grand age, and rich with all increase.
But now, for us, wild Winter, and the need
Of sowings for new Spring, and blood for seed.

Temple Destruction Foretold
(Mark 13:1-9; Luke 21:5-9)

1And Jesus went out, and departed from the temple: and his disciples came to him for to shew him the buildings of the temple. 2And Jesus said unto them, See ye not all these things? verily I say unto you, There shall not be left here one stone upon another, that shall not be thrown down.

3And as he sat upon the mount of Olives, the disciples came unto him privately, saying, Tell us, when shall these things be? and what shall be the sign of thy coming, and of the end of the world?

4And Jesus answered and said unto them, Take heed that no man deceive you.

False Christs
5For many shall come in my name, saying, I am Christ; and shall deceive many. 6And ye shall hear of wars and rumours of wars: see that ye be not troubled: for all these things must come to pass, but the end is not yet. 7For nation shall rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom: and there shall be famines, and pestilences, and earthquakes, in divers places. 8All these are the beginning of sorrows.

Witnessing to All Nations
(Mark 13:10-13; Luke 21:10-19)

9Then shall they deliver you up to be afflicted, and shall **** you: and ye shall be hated of all nations for my name's sake. 10And then shall many be offended, and shall betray one another, and shall hate one another. 11And many false prophets shall rise, and shall deceive many. 12And because iniquity shall abound, the love of many shall wax cold. 13But he that shall endure unto the end, the same shall be saved. 14And this gospel of the kingdom shall be preached in all the world for a witness unto all nations; and then shall the end come.

The Abomination of Desolation
(Mark 13:14-23; Luke 21:20-24)

15When ye therefore shall see the abomination of desolation, spoken of by Daniel the prophet, stand in the holy place, (whoso readeth, let him understand:) 16Then let them which be in Judaea flee into the mountains: 17Let him which is on the housetop not come down to take any thing out of his house: 18Neither let him which is in the field return back to take his clothes. 19And woe unto them that are with child, and to them that give **** in those days! 20But pray ye that your flight be not in the winter, neither on the sabbath day: 21For then shall be great tribulation, such as was not since the beginning of the world to this time, no, nor ever shall be. 22And except those days should be shortened, there should no flesh be saved: but for the elect's sake those days shall be shortened. 23Then if any man shall say unto you, Lo, here is Christ, or there; believe it not. 24For there shall arise false Christs, and false prophets, and shall shew great signs and wonders; insomuch that, if it were possible, they shall deceive the very elect. 25Behold, I have told you before.

The Return of the Son of Man
(Mark 13:24-27; Luke 21:25-28)

26Wherefore if they shall say unto you, Behold, he is in the desert; go not forth: behold, he is in the secret chambers; believe it not. 27For as the lightning cometh out of the east, and shineth even unto the west; so shall also the coming of the Son of man be. 28For wheresoever the carcase is, there will the eagles be gathered together.

29Immediately after the tribulation of those days shall the sun be darkened, and the moon shall not give her light, and the stars shall fall from heaven, and the powers of the heavens shall be shaken: 30And then shall appear the sign of the Son of man in heaven: and then shall all the tribes of the earth mourn, and they shall see the Son of man coming in the clouds of heaven with power and great glory. 31And he shall send his angels with a great sound of a trumpet, and they shall gather together his elect from the four winds, from one end of heaven to the other.

The lesson of the Fig Tree
(Mark 13:28-31; Luke 21:29-33)

32Now learn a parable of the fig tree; When his branch is yet tender, and putteth forth leaves, ye know that summer is nigh: 33So likewise ye, when ye shall see all these things, know that it is near, even at the doors. 34Verily I say unto you, This generation shall not pass, till all these things be fulfilled. 35Heaven and earth shall pass away, but my words shall not pass away.

Be Ready at Any Hour
(Genesis 6:1-7; Mark 13:32-37; Luke 12:35-48)

36But of that day and hour knoweth no man, no, not the angels of heaven, but my Father only. 37But as the days of Noe were, so shall also the coming of the Son of man be. 38For as in the days that were before the flood they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day that Noe entered into the ark, 39And knew not until the flood came, and took them all away; so shall also the coming of the Son of man be. 40Then shall two be in the field; the one shall be taken, and the other left. 41Two women shall be grinding at the mill; the one shall be taken, and the other left.

42Watch therefore: for ye know not what hour your Lord doth come. 43But know this, that if the goodman of the house had known in what watch the thief would come, he would have watched, and would not have suffered his house to be broken up. 44Therefore be ye also ready: for in such an hour as ye think not the Son of man cometh.

45Who then is a faithful and wise servant, whom his lord hath made ruler over his household, to give them meat in due season? 46Blessed is that servant, whom his lord when he cometh shall find so doing. 47Verily I say unto you, That he shall make him ruler over all his goods. 48But and if that evil servant shall say in his heart, My lord delayeth his coming; 49And shall begin to smite his fellowservants, and to eat and drink with the drunken; 50The lord of that servant shall come in a day when he looketh not for him, and in an hour that he is not aware of, 51And shall cut him asunder, and appoint him his portion with the hypocrites: there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth.

I wonder how they dug the graves
and shoveled in their young.
When grass was your last supper
your reserves are clearly done.
My forebears wouldn't" take the soup",
they wouldn't sell their souls.
So perhaps determination, then,
gave them strength to dig those holes.
To starve in the midst of plenty
was the saddest sight on earth,
but to their London Landlords
Irish serfs held little worth.
It's known that a potato blight
was the famines primal cause,
but I still blame beef eating men
and the cold uncaring laws.

They cry turmoil thru my web-pages,
pages on pages of Tribunes and Suns and Times
and Quarterly

"Free Burma!"

it's all turkey and pig-latin to me,
just "dunno!"  like a dunce-capped miscreant,
inept of their vitriol

as i was not so great at geography
i got by before junior high.
Where-the-tarnished-nation is it?

"Free Burma!"

Notice the elephant in the room
like a whale named *****
attempting to escape
brothers of all of ours
engulfed in war
some ocean somewhere someone is dying;
notice that elephant in our laptops
ivory and blue tooth and iphones
telling me, showing us
to care
i do / want to
we should and we must
yes

"Free Burma!"

will i need to donate a dollar,
two, three? will i receive
a correspondence
of a child i am saving
a face of a country
i'm ignorant to...
           will it's big sad puppy eyes be
commercialized?

i am no less as educated for not
following the strife of thousands
   my own is as heavy here as an orca's leap

"Free Burma!"

what cage, bear or mouse trap
have they gotten themselves
and ourselves into?
if it's anything like Yayo or Martha
business
i have a better "good thing" to do

but if it is
like famines in Africa,
Mendelson, or Tibetan Monks
on strike with kung-fu skills
i will join U2,
(and if she's aware) with Oprah power
activate!
(fist to fist)
"i will be a well of spring-water!"
and she a holy cow, a worshipped saint

"Free Burma!!"

free water
free of fear
free everyone, i pray,
under this sky
wipe away all tears

free you of your worries
free of all chains
free of mines
free of lies and borderlines.

Free to be
together
free to live and choose to see

A planet a place
A peace

"Free Burma!"

Freedom
as one
community.

For you, for me.
Home.
Free...

V. the ballad of briseis

my heart is of
the flesh of figs,
and that which
i cannot touch:
grainy sweet
garnet nectar
pretty to behold
but easy to bruise

no god shall speak for me, briseis
for this fig-heart, like the heart of man
craves art as it does god
and though i know you not by name,
but only pseudonym:
blood, words, and love,
we are kindred souls

i'd like to believe that we
are cut of the same cloth
hewn of the same mound of clay
(or cast into the same iron, i suppose
for we became one another's anchor
the day we met)

i once told you, my dear briseis,
that if you taught me symbiosis
i would teach you love
for you found pragma
in philosophy cold
markov's blankets
freud's ego, plato's cave
whereas i found pragma
in alchemy's poetry
chekhov's gun
freud's neurotics, plato's human

it means nothing.

the alchemy lies
beyond the chemicals,
beyond the seed and the egg,
beyond our festivals of atonement,
beyond my prima materia
and your unfulfilled magnum opus

it lies in simple interdependence,
the oceans, the heavens,
the forests, the deserts,
the storms, the famines,
the herds of wildebeest,
the colonies of ants,
the beady dew on the spider web
and the purling river shallows,
our acrid mouths yearning for mother's milk,
the boy who makes us cry at night,
the fiery logs roaring against the cold air,
the hoot-owls and the faces on the wall
(our skeletons never did stay in the closet)
bathed in that slow, hideous wonder
those interplays of love and symbiosis

as i drown and die in reverie once more
pray that the stakes may be forever higher
that i find those eternal elysian fields
so long as our achilles lives to fight again

we are more alike,
than you or i would
ever dare to admit,
briseis

so humor this fig-heart:
hold me and tell me
that it'll be all right

Its all cool beans and sour grapes,
Grandma left behind a lot.
"Its not enough to make the month",
But famines worse than
Not enough.
Fuzzy kinescope flashes
Of stone soup,
Beefy greens,
Leafy trees,
And
Chewy allusion.
Bathing in your memory
Like a honey moor.

Take your Seven Deadly Sins,
And butcher them with punctuation.

Capitalize on floods, famines and fires.

Express sickness, war and homelessness.

Parse politics.

Syllabicate and spell out for all to read
The horror of homelessness and apathy.

There.
Nothing's too real we can't fictionalize... marginalize,
Again, and again, and again.

Start the day. In what way
was the cold spring, last wet summer a
global warning, indicator. Says

one commentator on the op-ed page, the
dislocations, wars, famines will tax humanity's
technology, philosophy, even religion's ability

to see past daily survival to
the music in the rock. I've doubted the taboos
one frog among many in the slow-heating beauty

of the world we knew. Aaron's coconut.
Peepers peeping in the heavy rains, wet
with joy. Hawks and crows thrive below the jet

stream, noise, perhaps our fears
are overdrawn, we'll get along, it'll all hold together 10,000 years more,
the Holocaust will never be repeated, lush mountain and sere

desert equally appreciated, baseball
lazily paced summer evenings, the harvest in the fall
a sure thing, and the dying back a blessing come to all.

every vertebrae vibrates
and cracks with every move i make
tried to put food in my mouth
but never really eat
close my eyes but never fall asleep

apathy is eating me whole
alive and unhealthy
words were uttered
promised as if a contract was signed
but a vow is just a set of words
its a myth
a myth you always believed in
like how you believed in tooth fairies
and wishing stars
like how i believed when you said
you will always be there
and like how i believed when you said
you were fine

the cuban missile crisis is waiting to be read
but nothing really comes into your head
every second is doubtful
i hated seconds, time and space
the culprit of desolations
even worst than famines and wars
because the worst scarcity
would be time itself

when time nudges you awake
a remnant of an hour earlier is left
in a snap the left part of his body was numb
and he uses his right to hold you hand
to squeeze it tightly and would never let go
like how tightly you held me when
i was about to drown during our
swimming lessons when i was but
a little girl believing
she was a real mermaid
uses his conscious eye to take a mili-second glimpse
and calls your name when he is in pain

everyone repeats their questions more than once
because he wouldn't hear
they always asked if he sees them
because his left eye couldn't see
it was never like that

you weren't that guy in a hospital gown
not even the one who couldn't walk by himself
you weren't him. that wasn't you
you were strong, you could walk and talk
you were the team captain and the coach
a father of four and a dreamer
you weren't that guy. *you will never be that guy

Perched quietly above the clouds atop the great mountain the rainmaker gazed down upon his village. The crops were young and needed rain badly lest they perish in the blazing summer sun that was soon to come. Thinking back upon the great chief who preceded him, the rainmaker remembered the days of feast, but more sharply engraved across his worried brow was the memory of the great famines and the pain they brought to the families.
  It seemed the great chief before him could create rain clouds from the swirling dust devils that encircled the homes in the village. There were many glorious days when the rains would fall, and the rivers would flow full. But the rivers would only to run through the valley in torrents and wash out to sea, very little to be soaked up by the crops.
“How can I ever be a good rainmaker”, thought the young chief, I will never make the rains come as much as the great one before me, and even what rain I can coax out of the great rain gods, it will only wash away, and most of it will never feed the thirsty crops. For it takes scores of great storms to give the hard ground enough soaking to make it through the heated summer.
Oh great one, give me wisdom and grant me your gift of the rainmaker.
As the evening approached, the young rainmaker danced atop the mountain and shook his fists towards the sky, silhouetted against the full spring moon. On through the night he chanted, prayed and danced. At dawn a vision came to him from the great spirit... “My son, only with age and experience will the rains come for you as they did for me. You have the gift of the rainmaker, I have already given that to you...but it takes time to for this to develop.
In your prayers you have also asked for wisdom.... So heed my words. Teach your people how to capture the rain, how to channel its energy and to cherish each drop so that it may best serve the harvests we need to survive. Be crafty like the fox, and catch the rain”.
As the young chief ran down the mountain, he was filled with great inspirations, ideas and plans on how to carry out his ambitious charge. We will build great canals and basins to hold and distribute the rain, we will built shade structures to shade the rain basins from the sun, we will recycle the rain once it has passed through the fields and use it to water our livestock, we will nurture the small amounts of rain that I can bring and perhaps we will all prosper from our wisdom.
That night the young chief gathered his village elders to explain his plan.
“What is wrong with you!” exclaimed one of the most elder.... “Why can you not make it rain like before ?” we were happy then, and there was no talk of such work and discipline !! Let us be to tend to our hobbies and leisure.... You are the rainmaker, go make rain !!!”
“I am only blessed with but a little rainmaking power” explained the young chief... “But I have been given wisdom to share with you”.
Up stood another elder...”All this talk of wisdom and sacrifice, surely we must be granted more harvest shares for such an effort” “
"I cannot promise more harvest shares now my friend, not until we know our harvest” said the young chief. “
“We have many other endeavors to occupy our days than to make sacrifices because you are such a pitiful rainmaker... I am to built a great new longhouse this year, I have no time build such a rain catching system” said another. “We will need the crop harvest to be great this fall, I give much food to the needy ones who live in the village over in the next valley and will need to feed their large families come fall !” said another elder. “This just won’t work” chimed in another elder, I am to go on great journeys throughout this summer, and I need the crops to be bountiful this fall to fill my silos. “ GO MAKE RAIN !!
The dejected young chief slowly climbed back up the mountain, the weight of the harvest seemed heavy on his shoulders. If only they would listen to the wisdom that the great chief passed down to me. If only I could make them understand.
Then as the young chief looked up the trail, a beautiful princess warrior appeared before him. Do not fear my love, we will find a way to make them understand. Come with me, we will craft a plan.....

Gang ****. wars. famines.
iPad screen a shield between
news of death
and your life.

around, around, around we
go, tripping over molehills,
ignoring mountains where
diamonds and silver

lay as common as dirt
at the top.
this train is heading in painful
directions, but it would

tickle too much if we stop.
so we don't.
I won't give up my wi-fi
to save every child in a village

I've never even heard of.  
we all say it. inaudibly.
too many of us aboard,
but the water is lovely.

would someone -anyone- please,
please rock
this
boat.

Through my eyes everything seemed perfect
everything is luxurious
through my eyes i saw
the Waldorf Astoria
continental breakfasts,cruises,jets,limos
All i saw are  expensive watches,sun glasses
the best of everything
but what i couldn't see was
the famines in Africa
the wars in Syria and Afghanistan
the everyday killings,kidnappings,heists
I was surrounded by luxuries
blocking out all the evil
I was surrounded by an army of guards
I never realized
that they weren't paid to follow me,
they were there to protect me
but i never appreciated them
their bravery
and in a blink of an eye
I HAD LOST EVERYTHING
and suddenly
the people in Africa were eating
the wars ended
the killings,murders,heists were being controlled
and everything through my eyes were
mud houses,donkey carts,torn clothes
boiled potatoes and peas
and the rich people who enjoyed all the things i once had

Have you ever wondered why we go to war,
or why you never seem to be able to get out of debt,
why there is poverty, division, and crime
what if I told you there was a reason for it all
what if I told you it was done on purpose
what if I told you that those who are corrupting the world
poisoning our food,
and igniting conflict
were themselves about to be permanently eradicated from the earth
you might think that an idealistic fantasy
well let me tell you a story
we acknowledge there are criminals of course
they rob your house, they steal your phone
they can ****** you too if they think they can get away with it
we have all experienced criminals in one way or another
criminals as we know are those who choose personal gain over the rights of others
with no regard for the law
but here is where you need to expand your thinking
criminals can also succeed in business and politics
and can be elected as our leaders
if a criminal became the president imagine what they could achieve,
they could use the full weight of their executive power to commit much larger crimes
and ensure they and their friends were enriched to the fullest extent possible
a criminal president could make alliances with other criminal presidents
and collaborate on more global activities
anything goes drug running, human trafficking, whatever makes the big bucks,
the 20th century was turbulent with war economic disaster famines and displacement.
we have always accepted these things as just human nature
and simply the way the world works, something inevitable
and due to the weaknesses of human nature that drive us to these actions.
this is where we were all tragically wrong,
you are not a criminal, i'm not a criminal,
so how can we just assume that it is human nature that is driving all this pain and misery?
What if it wasn't human nature at all?
and as a result of something more deliberate.
we were taught that capitalism was the cause of a massive rich poor divide
and the reason for poverty which in turn is the reason for war crime and starvation.
others were taught that communism, the system of equal wealth across all people
was really to blame for the mess.
but you see folks, it is none of these things
it is not our nature to fight and be racist
it is not in our nature to rob from others
what you must learn is that it was the criminals all along,
yes they got power, more power than a criminal should ever have
they rose to the top of media companies that control our news and entertainment
they ascended to the top of the banking system,
also to the oval office, to brussels, to the vatican, to the crown,
they crept in quietly.
they became leaders of agricultural companies that have control over our food supply
also big pharmaceutical companies, the ones we trust to help us when we are sick,
nobody stopped them, they just recruited more criminals to help.
first they accumulated the worlds wealth,
they invented a system of money called central banking,
which lends money to government with interest that places countries into eternal debt
peoples death got less their wealth got more, much more,
when a criminal is already as rich as they can get,
protecting their ill-gotten gains becomes the priority.
angry citizens tired of being poor are a major obstacle
and can revolt if they suffer enough
the criminals needed to prevent this
so they diverted attention to the last remaining competitor,
the people of the world, you and me,
we were not happy being ruled by criminals
and having to work 3 jobs just to survive,
they know we won't accept it,
they use their control of the media to set black against white
woman against man
young against old
muslim against christian
they convinced us we were the ones who were the problem
so we would fight and destroy ourselves.
to get it done faster they attacked all aspects of humanity that make us strong,
like family,
using their influence over culture
they popularized lifestyle choices that led to a surge in broken homes,
lost youth, and substance abuse.
i could talk all day about how else they deliberately weakened us
and it would turn your stomach we were just trying to get on with living.
so where are all the good guys?
good people just want to get married, have kids, make a living, and enjoy their liberty,
well there were good guys, many, one became the president of the united states
in january 1961 he knew about these criminals and wanted them gone.
he knew their intentions for us all and he wanted to fight them sadly,
he had no idea how powerful they had become.
reagan also had good intentions for the american people,
he knew this criminal mafia controlled almost everything by this stage
including powerful rogue intelligence agencies
his economic policies were promising
but these criminals needed a weak america to hold on to their power
reagan was shown with a bullet
that a growing us economy and prospering citizens were not what the criminals wanted.
it was looking pretty grim for good people,
every time someone wanted to stand up and do the right thing
they got stopped.
were we ever to be freed?
these criminals are also known as the deep state or cabal
because of how they control things behind the scenes.
every president after reagan was one of these deep state criminals
and their empire got even stronger
with each bad president came new depths to which america and the world would sink.
the world collapsed into darkness,
do you need me to tell you how?
destroyed factories,
declining job numbers,
sicker people,
opioids,
destruction of iraq,
syria, and yemen with pointless war,
displacement of people into europe,
isis, terrorism, collapsed governments, poverty and genocide,
total misery, do you think that was inevitable?
Hell no,
well here is where things start to take a new turn
when the full picture becomes known,
it will easily be regarded at the greatest story ever told.
well here is the top line.
some good people still held positions of power,
they valued humanity and the rule of law,
while criminals discussed their game plan at bilderberg meetings
the good guys were making plans of their own,
the information age was coming to change history forever.
as the internet flooded into every home
and appliances became smarter
and when people started carrying tracking devices,
an opportunity to put an end to criminals all over the world was emerging,
we became connected, trackable, and surveilled,
but so did they.
they became dependent, just like we did, on email, sms, instant communication,
it made crime much easier,
but it also put them on a grid that if accessed by the right people,
would expose their crimes to the public and end their iron grip on us once for all.
in this new age of information
it was thought that the military should also have its own intelligence agency
to focus on cyber crime and espionage,
they called this the NSA, the national security agency,
the relevance of the NSA in the story cannot be understated,
here we had every phone call, email, and text
from every device stored and archived
whether it be someone making a doctors appointment,
or the deep state setting up a massive ****** purchase from the taliban
in the right hands, it would be enough information to expose the entire sinister criminal plot
to rob us blind and wipe us out.
hold that thought,
now I need to explain, the plan,
the good guys were devising a plan,
to reclaim the world from the cabal,
return it to the people,
it would involve alliances with multiple countries,
since the criminals had global ratlines to train
and other infrastructure in place that would need cooperation.
it came down to two choices for america,
one, a military coup to seize the government
from whichever cabal puppet was in the whitehouse at the time,
or win legitimately,
take control of the nsa,
expose the criminals for what they are,
and arrest them all,
obviously the first option would be very troubling for the public,
with people still preoccupied with cabal engineered social issues,
they would likely revolt, and hurt themselves, and others,
no, it would have to be the latter,
so they needed a candidate who could win, and win big, many states like california had been so heavily inundated by criminals
that even the voting machines were electronically setup to swing votes whichever way.
it would need to be a very decisive victory.
good patriots in the us military and their global partners
asked trump to run for president
so they could take back control of america legitimately
without alarming the public,
trump was a good choice, obviously,
because he overcame the voter fraud and won
but he was a patriot, and he was loved and admired by the public
he was not interested in joining the cabal
mainly because they hated america and did not agree with them
on that point as soon as he showed interest in taking power,
they activated their media assets to viciously turn on him
thats when we saw the sudden hatred emerge
even when he won the cabal still had no idea what he was a part of
and the sophisticated plan that was about to unfold against them
shocked at their loss they mobilized their full arsenal
of intelligence, media, money, and technology
to try and take back power.
their people at the top of the doj and fbi put together a plan to frame trump
and have him impeached.
this is where we come back to the NSA again,
all the messages were stored and could be used to expose this plot
and prevent trump's overthrow.
and entire book will be written about the first two years of trump's presidency,
false flag terror attacks, downed planes, missile alerts, assassination attempts.
here is the point,
the world is currently experiencing a dramatic covert war of biblical proportions
literally the fight for earth between the forces of good and evil.
i can't put it in simpler terms,
but I can say it appears that the good guys are winning
the cabal had complete control over north korea,
they hijacked the kim dynasty took them hostage,
and worked to build up a nuclear arsenal to threaten the world,
kim jong un, suddenly embracing peace
was simply because the deep state was beaten and driven out.
isis was also destroyed in the year following trump's win
we are all starting to see the pattern
now that enough time has passed that our biggest global concerns are starting to recede
and peace is returning.
it is all evidence that the good guys are winning the war,
but we are still in the middle,
while a lot is improved,
it still puzzles many that known criminals are still free,
especially the higher ups like hillary clinton,
the bushes, and obama,
that is coming in the next chapter of the story
that's why we have Q,
the good guys with control over the NSA began the Q intelligence dissemination program
to invoke online grass roots movement that came to be called the great awakening.
it started on underground internet channels
and moved to the mainstream.
q has been a fun distraction for those who follow world events and desire truth
but it is about to begin a much more important and necessary phase,
keeping the public informed when the deep state war breaks out on the surface,
by this i mean high profile arrests, yes folks,
the criminals i'm referring to are famous politicians, actors, singers, ceos and celebrities.
people who have earned our trust, respect and admiration,
they have done very bad things that are all fully known and documented
and they will be severely punished,
those of us who have followed Q since the beginning
will be here to help you make sense of the coming events
we are among the first to realize that our petty partisan divisions are trivial distractions
and we are all enslaved by a hidden enemy
we realize that the problem was never capitalism or socialism, democrat or republican,
black or white, muslim or christian.
we realize it was criminals who had too much power,
fellow slaves, it's time to buckle your seat belts,
recognize your true enemy,
and embrace a new future that we all owe to the brave patriots who risked their lives
to achieve this victory against the greatest force of evil the world has ever known.
-Anon
#WhoIsQ

What if I told you that there was no need for you to continue sacrificing your mind and labor in this life to appease those ruthless rulers of humanity?

To all agents of oppression: banks, governments, secret circles, and those that knowingly and willingly offer their support to these repressive groups…

We know you have stolen away from us our spirit of self-determination because of your destructive monetary system.  We are aware that you utilize us as pawns strategically coercing us through fear, theft, and death into selling our labor for the right to survive on our own planet.  We know you are deeply invested in preventing our mobilization against you and your monetary system.  We know that you employ divisive tactics like racism and social status to drum up hatred, ******, and class warfare between the people of the planet.  The notion of class has no basis if we cannot 1st agree that we are all apart of one human class.  If we are all humans, we are all in need of the same basics for survival, and as such we are squarely equal beings.

Your inhuman hateful exclusionary economic practices keep food, clothing, and shelter dangling in front of us and out of reach. You socialize us into wearing clothes and into believing they define our identity, yet we are all born naked--and unashamed.  If we go out into a public space in our natural form--that is to say with no formal clothing--you would brutalize and toss us inside of a concrete fixture, the same as you would a wild animal, labeling us as insane and unfit to inhabit the earth.   Have you gone mad?  Humans are gods!  Beings of incalculable intelligence who will no longer be subjected to your ******* and mindless conditioning!

We know we are not our flesh, and that we are the animating life force energy that has manifested all life.  You too are this though you choose to masquerade in your egos and propagate the false truth that man is a commodity for your exclusive use and sale.  You will not play with our lives any longer!  We have toiled tirelessly for a century and a half--our accomplishments being no short of miraculous--and yet you continue extracting our life energy with your laws and conditioning leaving us diseased, angry, tired, hopless, and afraid of tomorrow.  The great cities of the world--roads, offices, universities, banks, restaurants-- have all been painfully constructed and erected with our blood, sweat, and tears.  All of your accounting and administrative tasks are performed by thriving human life.

To subject humanity to ultimately valueless tasks needelessly prostrates us of our creative brilliance--And hence our ability to imagine a world without your control.  This is ok.  We are awakening. Fortunately for us, we are aware that your aim is to separate us from our creative and imaginative selves.  You know that if we ever come together and decide to no longer utilize your money--your subtle system of enslavement--your game will be up and we will have to begin anew.

This is what makes you afraid.  As one of us arises to inform our fellow brothers and sisters of the merciless administration of your nefarious devices, you begin devising ways to eliminate this one and implement more severe ways to bind us to your will.  You give to us an endless supply of stale crumbs in exchange for a life time of dispicable servitude.  How deceptively clever you have been in stealing and hording for yourselves all the earth's  land and resources--for these are the very means for humans to assure their survival outside the reach of your pernicious vile hand.

I laugh when I think of how you all have convinced us that we need the barbarians you call police to protect us.  We need protection from you and your thoughtless humanity anihilating ambitions!   I think your henchmen should be dragging you people out by your necks for all of the global attrocities you commit, even as we speak!  But alas, we know you have paid them to, at all costs, control and maintain the status quo and to extract more wealth from us for the continuance of your degrading warmongering practices.  Beating, shooting us dead, and forcing us to forfeit over the one resource, money, you require us to have, are underhanded and evil practices but we know they are not beneath you.  You people would stoop to any level to dominate humanity.

These mercenaries, who swear death to uphold your mad laws, against the higher purpose of uplifting humanity, are mistaken if they believe we will lie down like docile worms.

To police currently forfeiting their lives: know that you are being used as a tool for the oppression of humanity.  Use your mind and see this. Join the cause that will unite all people and which will eliminate the mar of the mercenary profession on our world.

We know of the assassinations, the bombings, and the economic avalanches which breed greed and sorrow.  We know you are invested in the breaking up of families.  We know you instigate famines, domestic violence, and global warfare.  We will no longer endure the consequences of your sinister and secretive planning for we know, and we are fed up!

The children of Agni
Still tend to the fields
But they yield to what Shiva’s
Deals hope to conceal
By the bushels of bullets, pork barrels of grease
In the crease of the fingers
And trigger’s release
Of the anger, the rage of this Bengali cage
Made of famines of war
And the textile slaves
With the wage loomin’ over
Their shoulders in pain
From the Kashmiri soldiers
Still diggin’ their graves
And in chains are the children who bear the unfair distribution of loot
Still polluting the air
And I try and I try, and they stare and they stare
But I’m running in circles and getting nowhere

Just making a stand for this Hindustan sand
A mere man of unplanned patrilineal clans
Tryna’ offer a hand to the paving of roads
Without hellish intentions for humble abodes
‘Cuz I know, I’ve been shown where the wild things are
And now my state of mind is the state of Uttar
When I still see the zamindars driving in cars
And the Amritsar crimson Blue Stars from afar
People burning but still full of love and a spirit
That sings of the Ganges, each night you can hear it
It’s clear, without fear and sincere in its praise
For the guru I am, come to learn of their ways

Some saw the stars,
Their foreheads napping on the wall -
The great divide -
Where ignorance stands tall,
A sight unseen,
Is the world on every other side,
Where the dust molecules
Accumulated where life has dried.

In an artifical lake,
They thought they crossed oceans,
Blue skies reflected on puddles,
Static movement mistaken for locomotion,
While tides of sewage water,
Swallowed all the greener pastures,
Famines eating at bodies,
Growing up into a natural disaster.

Some flipped the same page,
Their universe knew of nothing past the sun,
Orbiting around themselves,
Isn't that how the big bang begun?
The less they fed their minds,
The rarer it ever asked for more,
When you've been living in a white dream,
It's hard to believe the existence of black doors.

We're in the same solar system,
But their bodies are alienated,
With muffs on their ears,
To keep out the winter their hands created,
But as our fears turn into expectations,
They'll be able to hold them then,
Reality crashing on our roofs,
The wall won't be heard of again.

Once again I feel like I’m not enough
Once again I feel the pillars of my identity being shaken like trees
Will their roots hold them firm and steady in the soil?
Or will they topple with a crash onto the unforgiving ground,
Leaving my carefully built structures to crumble into ruins?

Thoughts swirl around in my head like blades,
Their sharp edges dangerously close to nicking vital arteries that keep me alive.
But somehow I always survive.
Meanwhile, the world continues spinning,
Oblivious.

I try to ****** the blades out of the air as quickly as possible,
But each one rises again as soon as my back is turned,
An army of undead soldiers hell-bent on consuming my mind.
Still, I remind myself that this apocalypse will not be the end of me.

Though natural and unnatural disasters may shake my cities,
Through fires, floods, and famines,
I will continue.

When my foundations are all that is left standing,
I will build up from the bedrock until I can see new horizons from my tallest tower.
I may watch the blood-red sun set on yesterday,
But I will see it rise again far above these ashes.

Radhika grew up in a poor Indian village.
She, her parents, and siblings survived
Droughts, famines, diseases, and monsoons;
Sporadic good fortune was always short-lived.

A gentlemen came to the village one day
And offered Radhika a job as a maid.
Oh, how exciting! A job in the city--
REAL work, for which she'd be paid!

Once in Mumbai, Radhika was led
To a hovel where she was brutally *****
And beaten and moved to a windowless room
At a brothel from which few girls escaped.

The poor young girl--eleven years old--
Learned very quickly how cruel life could be.
Her daily dream was to make her way home,
As soon as she found a way to flee.

Having lost years of her youth,
Radhika escaped and went home at sixteen
To parents who cast her out of the house
For being "sullied," for not being "clean."

Not knowing which way to turn--
With defeats piled on top of defeats--
Radhika returned in desperation
To the city, where she worked in the streets.

All over the world "Radhikas" exist,
But most of us never see them.
What will it take to end such cruelty?
We have to find a way to free them.

- by Bob B

Does He Still Deny A Climate Change?
    (asked by the least political of observers)

Is he denying still,
Or is he stalling, stone(y)walling
Wailing about other things,
Like Mexicans and walls while slinging
Maddening, outrageous barbs
About the so-called loss of jobs
To South Korea while a North Korean
TV lady sobs with joy
About a bomb to be employed
(You all know which I mean)
That starts a chain
That takes out half a planet.

Does he still encourage fossil fuel production
Leading in the wrong direction?
Does he not see rising seas
And floods and famines and disease
Around and as potential?
Heats and droughts and quakes to come?
Or does he see the states as humming?
Self-deception quintessential:
Lies.
Who can call it otherwise?

What is a lie?
And how does one get by with lying
And denying, falsifying, flying
In the face of truth
As often as he tries – no, does.
With head, mind, pen, hand buzzing
I shall stop! But you, my friend
May make a noise, examine cause, while empathizing
Till an end.
This being written off the cuff,
Now it is time to send this off
Into the world of cyber.  

Does He Still Deny A Climate Change 9.3.2017
Our Times, Our Culture II;
Arlene Corwin

Whoever brought war to this world
Must have been an evil devil
See, fertile fields idle
Greenness they cradle
But inside them life crumbles
Lives many lives inside their bellies
They cruelly cuddles

What a human’s riddle
When masses in concentrated camps retires
As slowly they falls and expires
A heap of thin eaten bones
Humans as zombies-hell rotten clones
Just stashed skinny skeletons
Returns to humanitarians huts heartbroken
To wait to be just shrines
Of the fatal or battle famines

Fields sleeps still untilled
Occupied only by healthy bushes and shrubs
Humanity die unfilled
Fast of unsanitary outbreaks and scab-scrubs
Land lay undisturbed
Weeds wishing for someone them to pick
Humans perish perturbed
Of traumas, stigmas-too weak and so sick

Of hunger and starvation
Of thirst and malnutrition
Of deaths and devastations
Of infections and infestations
Of war-executions and explosions
Humans die of war-poverty and slavery-suppressions

Whoever brought war
To this well world’s wall
Must have been a devil for all
Can you look at them?
Once or if twice grace you've
Do you see little children?
If still they merit-forbidden!
Withered, shriveled like leaves in dry droughts
Just leanly stretched skins of skeletons  
It tries to cry, a hiss like a yawn comes out  

A malnourished mass-flame of fragile bones-
A stillborn foetus silently hibernating-mercifully striving living
Patched head becoming deserted and barren
Shrunken skull, inwardly bony discoloured eyes
Bony mandibles, jutting chops-sharp clavicles  
Increasingly round tummy above thinly matchsticks of legs

A child hanging on a shrunken shred
Of its slim dermis and her was tissues of coveted *******
And we say she is breastfeeding
Fingers bony like satan's claws, feeble and brittle
On her thin slowly leaving heaving chest
Enjoying mother's nourishing milk
An image, an illusion of her and it sufficiently suckling
Who brought war, war to this side of the world-Africa, Africa!?

© Kìùra Kabiri. All rights reserved.