29 Monday Oct 2018
Posted in Poetry
I asked the red mountains and I asked the great sea,
But they both ignored and turned away from me
And there in the splendour of what was and might be,
I forsook my dreams and my destiny
And alone in the darkness of what is and should be,
The earth opened whole and did away with me
© 2018
29 Saturday Sep 2018
Posted in Current Events, Poetry, Society
I know you feel it. I know you all feel it:
This world is broken; we are broken
We walk around and pretend, but our smiles are just tokens
Paper masks that hide a fear, too deep, to be spoken
A fear that life may pass us by while we play by this system’s rules
A fear that we failed to even try for fear of looking like damn fools
It’s a game, it’s a game; it’s all just a game
And this game is really fear, to use another name
Instead of being human and being open, we disconnect and play it cool
Instead of love and raw emotion, we stay divided and we act cruel
It’s a game, it’s a game; it’s all just a game.
And this game is just the system, to use another name
This system has us running around
Like. Empty. Human. Shells.
Too asleep to resist it
And buying everything it sells
But can’t you see the bigger picture
Don’t you see the wider trap?
It’s just a ruse to make us feel empty
So we’ll fill the void with material scraps
But material objects can’t fill the void
It’s just our money and soul they sap
For it’s a game, it’s a game; it’s all just a game
And this game is just the rat race, to use another name
It’s a race to the bottom
A race to the end
We’re isolated and we feel lonely
Despite a million Facebook friends
For it’s a game, it’s a game; it’s all just a game
“Modern man”, and modern worlds
Obsessed with modern gadgets
These “modern girls”
Why not simplify
This “modern world”
For it’s a game, it’s a game; it’s all just a game
And this game is social transformation, to use another name
And the result is human commodification, total enslavement; such a shame
We’re a humanity in crisis
A society in decline
But the crux of the crisis, is that the decline is by design
For it’s a game, it’s a game
And that’s the essence of the game
© 2018
14 Tuesday Aug 2018
Posted in Current Events, Poetry, Society
This white man is not my enemy
No, this white man hasn’t done shit to me
Let’s talk about the E-C-O-N-O-M-Y
That’s the real issue here
Don’t. You. See.
It’s not just about race,
but economic d-i-s-p-a-r-i-t-y
Most white men today are suffering just like me
You see, the problem aint with the majority
But a tiny little minority:
The Uber Wealthy Authority
That enslave us through financial s-u-p-e-r-i-o-r-i-t-y
Black and brown do have it worse
But economic suffering is a global curse
Orchestrated by and for the globalists’ purse
And when we turn on each other
We. Make. The. Situation. Worse
For divide and conquer is an age old trick
It makes the majority weaker
And the rich more slick
Able to stop us from seeing our common plight
And prevent us from waging a common fight…
Against the ones with all the Authority:
That. Uber. Wealthy. Minority.
© 2018
Author’s Note: The white man I refer to in this poem is the everyday man on the street. The working class (or unemployed) man that is struggling to pay his bills and survive. While he may not be racially profiled while driving or shopping, he is not privileged in my mind—since privilege is tied to wealth.
30 Monday Jul 2018
Posted in Poetry
I walk through darkness
Or does she walk through me
Through time and space
She follows me
And I can’t erase
The memory
Of a dream not dreamt
And what could not be
I walk through darkness
Or does she walk through me
Not drink, nor sleep
Can set me free
And is death an escape
Or an eternity…
To walk through darkness
As she walks through me
© 2018
22 Sunday Apr 2018
Posted in Poetry
Beauty sits. She waits for me
She spreads her legs across the sea
And in between: Eternity, what could have been and what might be
Beauty turns, away from me. And pours her blood into the sea
It flows like wine, such ecstasy
As beauty fades, and calls to me…
© 2018
27 Tuesday Feb 2018
It is said we fell from grace, prophets and clerics declare it
But what if our fall was not a fall at all
But rather a departure from the cosmic pace
From a natural rhythm that permeates all space
And the natural laws that govern the human race
It is said we are Masters of the earth, science and governments proclaim it
But what if the earth still holds a deeper mystery
And what if science has been the lock and not the key?
What if its answers have kept us farther from the truth?
What if its methods are the veil and not the proof?
It is said that humanity is flawed; History and Laws maintain it
But what if the flaw is not with Man but the Law…
What if its justice is not blind for us all?
What if its rules serve the few over the majority?
And what if real justice is not synonymous with authority?
And it is said there is much to fear; pundits and media exclaim it
But what if these fears are only chains of a different kind?
What if being free begins with taking back our mind?
What if we could discover more from our intuition and inner might.
And what if the truth is simply hiding in plain sight?
© 2018
27 Saturday Jan 2018
And how will we stop them from stopping us?
Asked the man of his henchman
The solution is easy you see,
We just have to distract them;
Keep their eyes and minds off of you and me…
For starters, we have this wonderful thing called the TV
Get them hooked on celebrity, and they won’t have time for us
They wont have time to ask questions or make any kind of fuss
But what about those that don’t watch TV?
Hmm, we could always take them on a shopping odyssey
A lifelong journey through an endless shopping spree
Sell them toys and distractions, and they’ll be as happy as can be
No need to live a meaningful life,
To care about war or corruption or economic strife
It’s rather simple, don’t you see
But surely they’ll grow tired of watching TV
And what could be the purpose of an endless shopping spree?
Not if you convince them that it’s their only reason to be
And that buying shiny things will let them keep good company
But what if they awaken from this blatant fallacy?
Or feel a sense of isolation in this inauthentic reality?
We’ll simply tell them the problem comes from within, not from without
And use their sense of despair to strengthen our own financial clout
We’ll get them lost in diagnoses and create an entire industry…
That funnels money from their pockets straight to our pharmacies
The pills will also keep them docile; it’s a win win, can’t you see!
Well, it’s a lofty idea, but surely such a thing could never be
For would they actually let us rob them of their own humanity?
Well, let’s see…….
© 2018
23 Monday May 2016
Posted in Poetry
I don’t usually post poetry here because I have another site for that. Today is an exception, in honour of my dear late father.
I.
You started life a refugee, torn from your land and your olive trees
You started life a refugee, not a slave and yet not free
And as a child, much misery, high in the hills of Tripoli
Where you started life a refugee, and became a man too young, you see…
To help support your family, you did men’s work to earn a fee
And to serve the cause of liberty, you fought and bled in Tripoli…
But through the years, your destiny, whispered tales of what would come to be
For he who began a refugee, would soon find love and plant a tree
II.
With babes in hand, you crossed the sea. And traded bread for your dignity
You sacrificed with humility, and sold your sweat to grow your tree
And though still a child, my eyes could see, that you never lost your integrity…
You toiled hard, with serenity; your childhood dreams…just a memory
A winding path; that proved to be, full of love and pain, and family
A father’s love filled with sympathy, and the warrior spirit you imbued in me
A more kindred spirit there could never be, and then you disappeared so suddenly…
III.
Now I wake at night and, tragically, remember that you’re gone from me
And in the dark, my memory, plays with my mind and toys with me
For in my room, I swear I see, your loving eyes staring back at me
And if it’s a dream that lets this be, then don’t you dare awaken me…
Father, the loss of you has shaken me; and longing has not forsaken me
For my love for you, mistakenly, caused all my will to flee from me
While life’s perverse profanity, takes all that’s left of sanity…
IV.
But you did not die in vain, you see. For I will never forget what you gave to me
In my heart and soul lives a refugee that will wield a pen till all people are free
Through my blood and my ink, flows your legacy…and with these words, I honour thee:
For you are forever unmatched in your nobility. And forever loved by your family
And with the stroke of this pen, your memory, is etched into… eternity
~In Loving Memory of Maher Chehade: April 29 1953 – May 23 2013
11 Sunday Oct 2015
Posted in Electric Universe, Poetry
Break my hands and crush my spirit, but my ink will not run dry
Each drop a liquid dagger, which will live even when I die
Some live on through their children, others through the offspring of their mind
I’ve birthed my thoughts on paper, and pray they echo…across time…
To merge with the truth of all the ages, a truth so simple and yet sublime…
A truth that’s known to all true sages: there’s more to life than meets the eye!
A truth shunned by all religions, which make humans crawl when we were meant to fly
A truth whose essence could one day save us: for there are great secrets in the Electric Sky
An electric stream that is all around us…and permeates everything, low or high
A primordial message, destined to reach us…that won’t be ignored and can’t be denied…
It’s a cosmic current…that may some day keep us, for we were not born… just to slowly die
