#civilunrest
The injustice
either hardens or breaks the human mind
The mind
must choose how to fight against the injustice
The choice
of non-violence is not a sign of weakness
The knowledge
of why you fight is more important than the fight
The strength
to suffer is the time between despair and triumph
The ability
to turn the other cheek is the holiest weapon
The act
of vengeance is the weakness of a human being
The love
for the wounded is the reason they follow you
The memory
of the dead is the passion to believe in the vision
The revolution
in you ends when you no longer hate a stranger
Mar 26, 2017
Mar 26, 2017 at 12:03 AM UTC
Not a single drop of blood is spilled
In the softest revolution,
No one screams, or cries for freedom,
In the softest revolution.
No marching, no looting.
No, not one sign.
The burn is in the heart,
The cry, a song in the fingers.
Knowing eyes contain a symphony.
A light that will not fade,
In a storm of cacophony.
A willful wildfire spreads.
The revolution is forward motion.
A chant for change, unyielding.
A gentle refusal to bend when grasped,
Spine made of steel,
Skin armored with truth,
Voice infused with lavender.
The softest revolution arrives.
It does not ask, it infiltrates.
It smiles, and breathes, and holds the hands.
As it shows the resistors how they fit.
It does not conquer, it spreads.
It’s not the fear that established the old way,
Heavy, like a funeral for the self.
When old patterns thin,
Like threads in a vintage coat,
And progress stiffens into place.
There is new **** reducing friction.
Perfection is no longer the goal.
Precision becomes balance in motion:
a rhythm of effort,
a paradigm of care,
a system of aligned momentum.
Oct 11, 2025
Oct 11, 2025 at 3:26 PM UTC
Worrisome oaf
Cradle of milk
Hunted and bitten
Snarl of ice
Whispering dread
Call again through the storm
Deaden the chorus of hatred
Retrieve us from our pouring lusts
We know no other mother sir
Please repeat your prayer
My nose breaks as do my ears in the madness
Deafening anger assaults back
Taste is putrid waters of my own making
I'm hurled in the advance
Grasp my neck and cover my shame
Pour your wisdom before our doors
You, having escaped the rains
Feb 15
Feb 15, 2026 at 8:38 PM UTC