Shuttling beyond the lay
Of the land that may
End at the water,
Splash and fish, tide and otter.
War birds knocking stars from Heaven,
Wolf packs moving, six or seven
Or eight, the modern metabolic rate,
Society redeems the weight of hate.
Reversions to no merry mean,
We wash to make the world unclean,
We wash to upraise our station,
We wash to conclude causation.
Taking my place within the past,
An epic form of gratification,
I won't outlast, the die is cast,
So let's get on with vilification.
Bright sunny days, untrammeled ways or
Other poets' words so light,
Yet I shift and stray, I make the play for
The coming armies of the night.
as the occupiers of wall st.
come out from the places that the cold rushed them off to
over the brief winter months,
now sleeping straight across from the stock exchange,
they no doubt get to look forward to a
summer of sound cannons
for as the thugs monitoring the g8 summit in may
have already let us know
such sonic crowd control devices or USW’s
(ultrasonic weapons) will be used on civilians protesting the
g8---
these weapons once made for strict military use,
manufactured to disenable the enemy by projecting
long range ultra-high frequencies of up to 19 kilohertz
(an infrasound harsh enough to make one’s eyeballs quiver in the vibration)
were wielded upon the public at the g20 in 2009 &
it just goes to show that this is how you will be treated
if you disagree with the world elite enough to
take to the streets---
that sound of so-called “democracy”
will ring throughout your body,
making you feel that first warning
that you are not welcome at the table &
that you need to get back on the floor
to lick up the scraps.
Then, while we sing & dance,
Dancing towards new hills –
Those unknown & uncertain lofty hills,
Priding themselves in the heights of mountains!
Yes, while our hearts in extravagant beats
Of wild hopes & ambitions fair;
May we rhythm the farewell notes
Booming from sacred silent cannons –
Those fair echoes of ancestors
Thought in doom to dwell
Tho’ in eternal sweetness be!
O, kins! let us shine
Like some refined gold in brightness
Tho’s our era chime in glorified forlorn!