Sunday, February 12, 2012

Signs: a short poem of the Endtimes, by Joel the K

When an earthquake cracked the Washington monument obelisk, it was a sign from Divine Mother
We traded a Mexico of shaman's magick, sweet rivers, birds of knowledge and twilight fire
For a murderous battle zone of greed, sacrificing it all to a few billionaire drug lords
We whored out our Mother India, birthplace of countless saints and sages
Once known as the mythical land of mystery, vast wealth, and powerful kings
Kings who would retreat to the wilderness and contemplate the universes
Kings who would lead their army into battle, at the head of the column with strength and honor
Alas, their ghosts look on as Monsanto rapes Divine Mother and her children
What of the sea? Mightiest of all. With a reverence unmatched, brave men set sail for unknown shores
Brothers learned her moods and her ways, their wives mended nets and rendered her bounty with joy and thanks.
With respect, it was life promised through another cruel Winter. Beautiful ocean, never resting.
How were we tricked into transforming her into a garbage dump? Who decided it was meet to pour a trillion tons of toxic waste into Earth's very blood? Have we not committed planetcide? Are we not even now destroyed? There are islands out to sea, made of garbage, big enough for the gods to see from outer space. The gods look on and sigh.
Have we no common sense?
I tell you a Truth brethren and sistren; there are Signs in the Earth, Sea and Sky. There are omens in the stars. There are portents vibrating in the stones. It is a warning for those with ears to hear.
When Divine Mother cracked the great obelisk in Washington, D.C. with Her quake, it was an omen.
The Hopi shaman-wizards tried to warn us. And now the great shaking is upon us.
The Earth herself groans for justice. All equations must balance in the end. Humanity has not lived according to Divine precepts written in our heart. Precepts created for the purpose of balance and harmony.
It's coming brothers and sisters. The great shaking. A time of tribulation not seen since the foundations of the world.
The hour is late. But never too late for repentance. Let us set our house and hearts in order. Let us prepare as best we can to survive Divine Mother's wrath. For some will survive. Life will go on. As our beautiful blue ball flys silently through the cold darkness of space. Feeling at the moment unloved, and unappreciated.

1 comment:

Craig Cavanaugh said...

Well done Joel. And pretty much sums things up.