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r Sep 2018
Although I can’t prove it,
I think most poets work
for FEMA, writing good
lines on the side of homes.

This poem is asleep, so
don’t yell at it, waking it up;
leave it alone letting it dream.
;).  Coming Thursday to your Mobile Phones, like it or not:

"Presidential Alert: THIS IS A TEST of the National Wireless Emergency Alert System. No action is needed."

No action needed, this is ONLY a test.  Yep. Just ask the good people of Puerto Rico.   Wonder where the all  CAPS idea came from?
as love
is diffuse
where glow
is his
so well
it'll show
how bright
the moon
tonight when
it's there
if finaly
the moment
swept them
off the
road and
into a
tile home
the kennedy assignation
Fire burning in the sky,
Caught us all by surprise,
They storm in, hard boots hitting the stairs,
Foreign-language screaming with their guns,
As we hold onto those who we love,
All that was, is gone.
A new law was placed, which they won,
Take caution for a new world order,
You can't run anywhere, they closed the borders,
All will choose their two choices left,
Imprisonment or death.
This is a poem I published on July 6th of 2013. It predicts the downing of a 777 airplane, which was caused by a country invading another country. On July 17th of 2014, yhis poem became a reality. Exactly a year and 11 days after I published the poem, a 777 plane blows up over Ukraine, due to Russia invading Ukraine.
Cunning Linguist Aug 2015
Unplug the TV.
Turn off the internet.
Going dark is the only thing that we can do.

Whether we know it or not, we are only feeding into these egregores.
We say we want to be informed.
We consider it being educated, cultured, aware.
But for what?

What good does it do to learn about the trials and tribulations around us?
So we can voice our opinion?
So we can say, "I told you so"?
So we can flex a little mental muscle,
playing games of connect the dots,
trying to predict the next big event?

We can watch it all fall apart, sure.
Pop some popcorn. Refresh the page.
Check the latest pinned threads.
But in the end what will it have mattered?
Aren't we all just trying to get the best seats in the house,
So we can watch the world burn around us?

Movements are not going to change anything,
No amount of rioting, protesting, demonstrations, reforms,
Viral videos, shares and likes, subscribers, followers,
You can be the loudest voice in the room but to no avail.

So they'll come for your guns.
What then?

You fight off one, maybe two, rounds of invaders.
They keep coming.
They keep moving in.
Surrounding you on all sides.
Then ****! Your homestead just got WACO'd.

The war drums beat and the trumpets blare.
Bombs bursting in air.
Flags tattered and charred.
The stores are empty.
Your shelves are full.
For how long though?

One year? Five years? Ten year plans?
Then what?

When the soil is irradiated.
The waters contaminated.
The fish and birds and animals long since dead.
So hungry that you'll eat another human being?
Your mother? Your wife? Your son? Your daughter?
Dinner for ravenous wolves?

This really is the apocalypse.
It's not a lightning crash,
but a slow burn.
While the rest of the world denies,
and the angels in heaven cry,
the demons inside of us lie,
Not this time.
Not today.

We made it past this failed prediction date,
Y2K, 2012, Me Tel U Now,
What next?
September 23rd?
Are we really ready if it is?
So you think you can survive the fall,
well be proud and pat yourself on the back.
When the rest of the world is gone,
and only you and your hatred remain,
who will validate your ego then?

When the radioactive fallout pours from the sky,
covering everything in it's murky haze,
toxic winds and acid rain,
a scorched, ransacked and ravaged earth,
this is your inheritance?

Martial law
New World Order
FEMA camps
Economic collapse
Global pandemic
Staged alien invasion
Second comings
False messiahs
Peace and safety,
Woe and destruction

When it comes will you look back and remember these last dying days?
Will you regret following every trending story,
Every false flag media distraction,
Trying to predict and prove and make your point?
Will you feel justified then?
The doom you waited for so eagerly having finally arrived?
Your affairs all in order,
Scott free by the skin of your teeth,
the last of a dying race,
victorious and supreme?

Go outside.
Breathe in the air while you still can.
Hug your wife or husband or children.
Call your brother or sister and tell them you love them.
Put aside petty differences.
Blessed are the peacemakers,
for ONLY THEY shall be called the sons and daughters of God.
This truth seeking superiority profits us nothing.
Vexation of spirit,
Chasing after the wind.

Soon days like these will be just a memory,
Something you'll daydream about,
Only to snap back to a cold and desolate room,
A can of kidney beans,
Three bullets left,
Not enough oil to keep your lamp burning through the night,
Danger around every corner,
Everyone you loved and cared for dead,
The pit in your stomach,
the lump in your throat,
the hope for survival all but snuffed out,
waiting for the rapture,
waiting to wake up from that bad dream

Won't you wish you had done more?
Loved harder?
Forgave sooner?
Given more generously?
It's not too late to start,
Those memories you make today,
Will be the fuel you need to keep going then,
It'll be the only thing keeping you alive,
when all else has already failed.

— The End —