Americas poisoned apple

Americas poisoned apple.

Cowards are spoken of as brave.

Neon gods are worshiped and bowed to.

Demons hailed as heroes and saints.

Terrorists are now keepers of the gate for a new world and awarded with symbols of good works.

Pedophiles are sympathized with.

Nobel peace prizes are handed out to men/women in suits who extract resources from people aboard and the people of America.

The kardashians made of plastic and lace idolized for talent.

Gender is how you feel and men have turned themselves into thieves of women.

God is self, self is worshipped and adorned with gold and silver, all is being sacrificed to desires of the flesh.

Bathrooms have become the main concern and confusion.

The new liberal sees fascism in every party but their own, labels handed out like tickets for anyone who thinks and speaks contrary.

Google is the new historian.

Lies are the new truth.

Big homes, positive thinking only, hefty bank accounts, and shiny things the new God into whom many have misplaced their faith.

Emotions the new facts.

Main stream, local medias and politicians the new drug pusher.

Activism has turned men and women into narcissists. Activists bought and sold for an hourly wage of $15. No facts needed only the ability to throw many into emotional tailspins.

Healthcare the for profit industry hands out jewels of pills worn around the neck and wrists, extracting resources from the ill and fragile.

All of this began years ago

with a simply seed planted and watered by,

Hollywood

musicians

talk shows

Sitcoms

Name it claim pastors

books

Newspapers

Media both local and main stream

Politicians both left and right.

Advertisements

Becoming wonderland

Becoming wonderland

“I had opened perceptions door and beheld Americas new wonderland.”

If what we see or hear is perception,

is any knowledge gained factual?

If battles are waged on perceptions, is any fight a true one?

If what we feel is a mere perception, is any emotion a valid one?

If a man/woman living stains the lives of others,

waving an unrighteous banner of ills,

and we upon death pour forth a perception of sainthood,

are we not just calling evil good and setting a new standard of deceptions by burying truth?

If a fact/truth is a bittersweet pill

wouldn’t perception be the remedy?

Is not perception a door to close on truth/facts that we be able to go on living in a world that is not real?

Is not perception a way to appease the narcissistic nature of men/women?

Who could be wrong if all is how you perceive it to be?

Clean the walls of perception,

you and I would be having very different conversations.

Someday we will answer

“Hate in right context is not hateful but rather just, for if you love, you will hate what violates that love. The hate being poured forth upon the world is not that type of hatred.”

Someday we will be asked,

what took you so long to hear,

it was hate.

Someday we will be asked,

what took you so long to see,

it was hate.

Someday we will be asked,

what to you so long to love,

it was hate.

Someday we will be asked,

what to you so long to weep

over the hatred.

Someday we will be asked,

what took you so long to fight against hatred.

Someday we will be asked,

why you served hatred?

why did you bow to what is hateful?

why did you idolize this beast and fill the stomach of such a demon?

why did you sit on the lap of disdain and listen.

Someday we will be asked,

why did you fill the world with so much evil and call it good?

Someday we will be asked

and held accountable as to why we chose to hate.

Self inflicted wars

Even if there is justice,

there will be no peace.

If every war were to stop,

there will be no peace.

Is it the justice and war that is wrong or the wickedness of men/women.

All seek the spoils of justice and war,

none are exempt.

Does not peace and justice require some type or war? Peace and justice are fought for through wars.

The problem is us, we do not know the righteous wars or justice and so here we stand

in a constant state of chaos

driving each other into schizophrenic self inflicted wars.

If silence fell

If silence fell,

would hear the sound melt into stone?

If silence moved,

would you feel the breath upon your soul?

Silence is always there

draped on towers of steel

surrounding you

pressed upon your skin through a stranger on the subway,

spoken through the eyes of passerby on the busy streets of

NYC,

the pulse of a basketball hitting concrete and the child alone staring through linked chain,

no one knows his name,

you hurriedly shake your head and glance to read through the text one more time,

you hit send forgetting,

heard through iPads as the wander straggles through the coffee shop, sits near you with headphones dangling,

a million voices pierce through earpiece,

annoyed you stagger off

alone,

again you’ve missed the point

lessons to be told,

you no longer hear

you no longer feel

you no longer communicate with the fall of silence

busily moving along streets of cobbled stone.