Recent Local Blog Posts

This Body

Works in Progress - Sun, 03/22/2015 - 10:09pm

This Body will only comfort, all;

This Body will not hurt anyone;

This Body has Siddiqan’s inspirations

This Body has a great farmer’s noble pursuit;

This Body has Shafi’s humbleness and mystery

This Body has a medicine man’s passion;

This Body feels pleasure in growing Wholesome food & sharing;

This Body feels other fellow-being’s Pain & suffering;

This Body is in Harmony in a Natural world;

This Body will sooth people’s grief & sorrow;

This Body will absorb the pain, suffering, humiliation, & hatred;

This Body will only share the Pleasure, the Spirituality, the Humanity;

Hope for Real Peace, gives this Body reason to live!

 

The Abyss of Society

Works in Progress - Sun, 03/22/2015 - 10:06pm

I am a victim of the system.

A system structured

To torture;

Wringing out my last ounce of dignity.

 

You’re a victim of the system.

You’re enthralled;

Wrapped in chains,

Pulling out and downsizing your humility.

 

Day after day after day: time runs away!

All of us see it fly,

Yet no one voices out

A demand to retain it.

 

Monday, Wednesday, Friday, Sunday

(Redundancy and repetition)

All of us conform

And no one thinks of changing it.

 

Graffiti on the street,

Let us know of the oppression.

Graffiti on the wall

Asks for revolution and organization.

 

Where do these rebels meet?

What happened to the uprisings,

Protests and outcries?

Where they all swallowed by globalization?

 

Indeed the system tells us we’re free

When we buy healthcare,

When we buy education,

When we buy our right to exist.

 

Would you not agree?

Every person chases the idea of fitting in

They are zombiefied and colonized,

Unwilling to resist.

 

Its demands are at its core:

To study for a printed diploma.

High School, College, University

PhDs, M.A.s and B.A.s

 

The horde of the bore

With white picket fences,

50’s pinup wives and

Bread winning husbands full of B.S.

 

What then? To retire? To Die?

Fifty, Sixty, Seventy, Eighty;

The decades pile up

Yet the empty contents evaporate.

 

The warning signs do not lie.

We see them as we travel

down the road, but we hide

Behind screens when we should retaliate

 

against the system: that cushiony nest,

that exaggerates and decapitates

our agitated lives

with pages bleached with regret.

 

The unrest becomes a pest,

Stench oozes from the walls

With hypocrisy and a twofaced dagger

That strives to slowly forget

 

the loneliness and the mistake

That was made

By listening to the abysmal society’s

Regulatory decadence;

 

Yet if it’s not too late to partake

In this fight and struggle,

Wake soon from your slumber

And voice out for justice, NOT SILENCE!

 

All who want it scream “Aye!”

As the rusted chains of that intangible

entity crumble beneath the wheels

of a revolutionary bus.

 

Realize and act on what you and I,

Together can achieve

Before the system and the structure

Swallows and forsakes us.

 

Wed, 12/31/1969 - 5:00pm
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