Electoral pact Liberal Democrats
what is the need is for them
other than cleaner water
Sectarian Politics in Labour hinterlands
losing 4 seats
bodes ill for them
and the Reform Party promise to rupture them in 2029
Greens, Libs and Reform
point to PR
the pressure is on
And the Tory Party will take years to recover
after going through a civil war
They have lost the people's trust
as the tax cutting party
Politics in turmoil
that's where the future lies
no more uncertainties
What is uniformly monolithic,
like a circular law, or wall,
is non-sectarian.
What is united together
is trans-sectarian unity, like a lattice, or web,
maybe even pan-unitarian.
We can sometimes see differences
between a universal ego-centered LeftBrain deductive, dividing, view
and eco-passionate open systemic RightBrain inductive, integral, listening,
appreciating
co-intentional
holistically interdependent meaning.
Bicameral listening deeply for universal nature uniting spirit
secular/sacred voices of time
regenerating EarthLight
dipolar co-arising
discerning LeftYang with RightYin Selves
Muses blinking backward in DNA nutritional health memory
and forward
into polypathic universal wealth
uniting fully energetic
peace-filling diversity
of harmonically co-resonant Story,
ego-inside with eco-outside
prime ZeroZone re-creative relationship.
Ecological interdependent systems,
networks non-personified co-relational
non-sectarian
non-reductive
therefore holistic
holy
whole-theistic
trans-theistic
pan-theistic;
EcoTheistic networks
for active cooperation,
if you radically
and democratically
prefer creolization
over OldSchool colonization,
Business As Competitively Usual,
NonSectarian missions with more effective
and historically
and culturally valid cooperative outcomes
than patriarchal missionaries
of verbal dogma over-powering trans-sectarian opportunities,
healthy seeing and hearing integrity experience,
wealthy synergetic hope
Emerged from warm wet wombed
Zero ZenZones of nutritional co-passion
Speaking systemically
of health theo-logical
teleological meaning
ethological purposeful pasts
through transportive futures.
Agnostics mistrust theistic trust,
but mistrust is not actively committed
to distrust powerful muses
and memes.
Cynics mistrust anger and fear management,
but passive cynicism is not actively committed
to anger- and fear-mongering mismanagement
nor capable of leading us
toward everyday radical compassion.
A sinner died sin-tainted
and reached judgment table
prosecutor read his sins
he was excellent in exams
before verdict, he told judge;
“I confess I did the job so well
I had majority of support
Hero I was among my people
Do not be sectarian
avoid prejudice
I too have my rights
while on earth alive
I performed so well
I worked so hard
I scored distinctions only
in every criminal activity
“My lord, make me a hero
give me gold medal.”
I want to be a dire criminal
against the Dark powers of my times
if corruption knocks at my office door
I shall shoot it with arrows of my heart
Let cheating woo me with her luring eyes
bravely I shall assault her with sharp mouth
immoral stars, lies, slander destructive gossip
in the tombs of rejection I’ll bury them alive
When desire for revenge visits me at night
I’ll throw him in the blast furnace of sorrow
sectarian angel with her persuasive smiles
hot scotching water I will pour on her head
Let Dark powers arrest and persecute me
A criminal to Darkness but free before God
Blazing bush-fire rages in the Savannah
With bright red eyes and fast moving legs
One ponders survival of flora and fauna
But it is not an ordinary wild bush fire
With amorphous and elastic fiery tongue
He is sectarian, wise but morally corrupt
Selecting only humans and sparing the rest
He sees, smells and burns them to stillness
Searching in hotels, homestead and bushes
Licking their bottoms and fanning flames
Whirlwind sends invoices to every house
As the stars rise, twinkle and set in youth
With no expert fire extinguishers in action
And fog covering the eyesight of the victims
Savannah bush fire merry-makes uninterrupted
In the land that may soon become catacombs
A town wheezes the last rites over
its people through phlegm-ridden
lungs and turgid cankers.
Its blistered wounds are coated
in the mud that lines its harbour
and creeks.
The loss of the dockyards was its lowest tide.
Now, existing work taunts the town from
the other side of the harbour,
separated by low tides and disused ferries.
As the town slides closer to its knees,
the landlords willingly house
the subsidised washouts.
And gang fights marry into husband
and wife fights, twisted around petty
pride and sectarian bigotry.
Leaving kids to run about half-stoned
and roaring with cider, where the
unpredictable waits around the corner.
And rape happens behind the church,
under God's careful watch, where worship
of the needle leaves only emptied lives.
And lost souls sleep under cardboard palaces.
This is a town that wants them out, so that
it can shut the doors, draw the blinds
and start again.
Very common in human history
In name of faith- same
Some
-Monopolize hearts and minds of crowd -
Hijack the role of religion as the code of god
To gain the power and cast
The death and misery
Upon divided man
Icons of dark smoky
And insane
In theirs- faith
Bloody ritual thirsty
Fangs- their
Sectarian holds us in diffuse hate
STAINS OF BLOOD
I heard the cries from far away
The sounds of anguish all the way
The tears had flowed like Tsunami floods
A plague has led our land awry
Scenes of passionate rages reigned
Heartbreaks, shots of depression rained
Like an abattoir filled with bones and blood
Our lands became awash with blood
Heartless hands that maimed our men
Have struck our land with darts at will
With gruesome tact their tasks were done
The task to slay our men away
We saw our warriors staggered and fell
With bloodied limbs and heads and being
We saw our kindreds breathe their last
And could not awake to our calls and groans
Can you hear the helpless orphan’s howl
Their mothers struck with shock untold
As their losses, pains and grief unfold
Oh, who shall mend their hearts apiece!
…Dedicated to the many lives who have been devoured by sectarian terrorist attacks in my nation… and beyond…
Why did your hand
become the fist ?
You were thinking about the indignities
heaped upon the lake,
when you were retrieving a song
of freedom from the depth of questions.
There was no capitulation.
You went on opening the congealed-
blobs of blood to know
the keynote of violence.
The sectarian hate.
It outlives the love of brotherhood.
You want to go back to, from where
the jungle starts. It had swept
away the snow-white young
peaks.
Footprints of some movement.
Can you see that ?
Satish Verma
Everybody wants to be king
They crown themselves by opining
And can only see everyone else’s sins
Everybody wants to rule
And conquer all with hypocrisy
They prate and condemn
While shielding their transparent sins
So many rulers make for a great din
Where nothing is gained
And illogical arguments create
Sectarian tragedies
It is a heaven for bullies
This cantankerous gathering
Of un-crowned kings
Enemies within
Enemies without
Everyone’s psyche is tormented
They all worry about invisible dangers
That they claim will snuff them out
Which asylum let these mad people out?
God above must
Look down on us in shame
His master plan will one day
Go up in flames
This purification will
Hopefully cast all the demons out
And knock these kings off their thrones
The walls that house the faithful are destroyed and clothed in flames
in these sectarian disputes over validity of claims
The journey of a soul hijacked by the mentality of the herd,
a million petty voices being mistaken for the Word
The fallacy of translation born for a message meant for one,
the word of god so tainted when spoken through human tongue
Placing their own faces on their image of the lord,
forgiveness turned to fire, and the book into the sword
Gilding what is precious brings the thieves into your house,
bringing lip service to devotion, the empty words of an unfaithful spouse
Lusting for the power that your station should condemn,
subverting brotherhood to nothing more than the clash of us and them
The problems not the faith that carries, but the shoes with which it’s shod,
and the problems not the god in man, it’s the man that’s found in god
When besieged by
shooting, the word kills word.
Meaningless show.
The day will unfold
bringing blood on street.
I will pray for night.
Sectarian push
decimates the forest
of daisies.
Satish Verma
Sometimes, buddhists attack muslims with trivial provocation!
Thus both sides are led into ethnic tension!
But if anomalies are resolved,not much sectarian violence
will be perpetrated!
Muslims and christians clashes, the worst sectarian violence!
Therefore I urge christians and muslim to readjust their neighbourliness,
and friendliness to receive reconcilliation approval from the powers above!
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