I don’t belong here.
The lies abound and are well tended.
The imposed imposes and closes walls.
I dare not crumble.
I will not grumble.
The attacks on my psyche will meet staunch defense.
This doesn’t feel like home.
This is a heated tomb.
I have been here before.
I once felt so low.
My spirit rankles at the overt oppression.
I see some knuckle under to it.
I will rise.
Only truth shall leave my lips.
Henceforth I am that.
Programming falls away like dead skin.
I am renewed in the ash.
I write myself out of despair’s depths.
I settle not.
I leave that for the dregs.
I am the water.
I don not the cloak of society.
I look past the farces.
I look past the trees.
I look past all fauna.
I look into the deep.
That’s ten eyes, five faces, five aspects…
Each face has a tertiary facet.
Home base looks like a house.
That’s my first time making that connection.
Quiet like a mouse.
Shake the farcical foundations.
Fruit falls far from those trees.
Planted on hillsides… The thievery trinity.
They have stolen the world and turned it on its heir.
What cannot be owned cannot be stolen.
So the stealing is naught but illusion.
It becomes real if you accept it and make it true to you.
So does balance.
So does equity.
So does reciprocity.
It could all be so simple.
But they’d rather fake it hard.
They… we… whatever.
Thinking we are clever…
Much is beyond the strictures of framing thought as we do.
Many be on their tip toes standing on a box sans the soap.
We need cleaning…
Gemini… Appears Rastafarian…
Yet there is more.
There is always more.
Roger that silly rabbits…
Splits harm the kids.
What is it that we shall build…
…five lion alliance?
Bluespyryt steps out on the right foot.
How dare these shorn arms attempt to box god.
Have a thousand seats or make a thousand steps.
The Watercourse way awaits.
Errol Percival Jr.