771000
8
Journeying the Edge of the Wilderness
(Apropos Succoth, Circa 2017)
No, not at last! Now!
Today we must live free!
Now is the time
and the time is now
for us to liberate ourselves;
liberate ourselves
from our own chains; chains
that have clamped themselves
around our minds.
A wasted mind is just that.
Wasted; man’s creation.
God never created waste;
like He never created slaves!
Let us not be as crabs
in the bucket; but as those
that walk upon the banks
and across the sands of time
patiently building fortitude
to sustain the challenges
out of as well as in
the rivers and seas of this life.
Let us not be like “Humpty Dumpy”—
Trump walled—
finger ripped and pushed
into things fall apart pieces
that main-streamed democracy
has had intercourse—freely.
What a mockery
of the national judiciary –
Supreme and all?
Thus is the nature of
today’s political quantum leap.
The brave new world
has now come full circle.
Its hunger gang tentacles
insinuating satanic influence
upon the duped.
Once more and again
it’s too late realized
that you can’t
un-ring the bell
once it has been rung—
even if it was just in jest.
Ghosts of slavery’s pass
creeps back to regeneration;
free travel banned.
The waning sun sets on the clenching,
uncomfortable silent majority;
who must suddenly—abruptly return
to their own class-based struggle.
The true mask man now rides amuck
the façade horse of constitutional propriety—
Spitting in the faces of the masses: “ I’m POTUS!
And ain’t a damn thing you can do about it.
I double dog dare you #######!”
Across the vast distance
of present political time and space,
we once again find ourselves struggling
in the periphery—Seeking
a higher consciousness of kind
to weed out the cancerous growth
that the bogeyman of deception
has planted in the minds of the weak.
As for the prune dry—piano board masses—
Liberty once again sags like a limped breast
drained of its milk of justice by an abandoning child:
whining and smirking a devious smile as the night’s deceit
passes swiftly into deeper darkness of its self.
Yet behold this! God is not mocked!
As the night moves further into its darkness—
Surely it moves also towards a new sun;
ushering in the dawning of a new day begun.
Truth—Stained and debased—Preens its self.
Indeed “…weeping may endure…[tearfully]…
for the night, but joy comes in the morning.”
Is it not also written in the Words of the Light?
…For whatsoever a man sows…
So shall be his reaping?
