Listen to a reading by Tim Foley:
While the Waymos burn
While the air over LA fills with smoke and teargas and Reaper drones
While Israelis hand each other trophies for not murdering Greta Thunberg
While Palantir stocks soar and insect populations plummet
While the news man writes headlines with increasingly creative phrasing
While people with nothing to lose sharpen guillotine blades
While the bank boys ask why the robot armies aren’t ready yet
While keffiyeh-clad heroes march to Gaza
While secret saints work secret miracles in the margins
While a sleeping giant stirs within our depths
While the flames dance in Buddha’s eyes
While my peacock feather heart opens like a fuchsia bud
While the tears roll down my cheeks for the dead and the dying
While the firelight dances on my walls and the rebels dance in the fire
I open my strange palms to our strange future and welcome it
Come what may.
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I have become open to the future only because my heart has become one with the heart of another of like heart. And together we are invulnerable to the constant stream of propaganda, lies and false flags. Love is the only answer to the hatred that wants to swallow us all.
The seeds sown by our proclaimed civilisation have lain in the ground for generations.
For centuries they have been fertilised by blood and death in a monsoon of destruction that seems to see no end.
Those who are described as the “elite” have watched from the comfort of their cosseted lives with smug satisfaction.
But, in the dark unseen by incurious eyes, the tiny tendrils of root and shoot are stirring. Even as the mighty West lectures the rest of the world about morality,ethics and the rights of humans their portraits concealed in the shadows of lofts and cellars reveal the corruption and filth at the heart of empire.
It has taken a genocide to part the clouds and bring the blazing light of righteousness to warm the cold,hard ground but bring it it has.
Those who have done this,those who have cheered it on,those who have turned aside and vilified each and every one of us who have,for all our faults, given of our very best in our efforts to stop this horror believe that when it ends and it will end,the world will carry on as if nothing has changed. The status quo,they think, will be restored.
The seeds don’t think, they silently grow and one day in the not too distant future they will blossom and flourish and then the world will tremble as it reaps their bitter harvest.