Arms Of Fire

Arms of Fire

triggers of collusion
mounted
and loaded
into
empty apologies
carefully worded
so as not to
cause disruption
in
cash flow

lives
obliterated
decimated
and families crushed
beneath the blow
of
out-laws…
steel barriers to
justice
and any care
for
humanity

what can your money
buy you?

when
your bullets
have
crushed a nation

and a gun
can be gotten
as easily
as
a
lollipop

it is on you…
it is
in
your hands

filled
with the blood
of deceit
and greed
and
silence

and the
cold truth
of a country
who
is
buying
and selling…

it’s soul

Cynthia Adler
February 2018

Close Your Eyes

Close Your Eyes

Close your eyes
what do you hear?
the sound of a heartbeat, a rare percussion of
timeless flow
a soul dimension
fastened to rhythms of a
crystal core, but more..
a jump to life
in glorious syncopation…

Close your eyes
what do you hear?
motion tones blending colors
into streams of
forgotten promises or
untended dreams
pressed under boulders
wrapped in prayer shawls
and crystal
a child in a corridor
frozen in time
looking out…looking in
searching in space for
signals and signs
and the course of a destined pathway.

Close your eyes
and listen to your heart.
It will carve your courage.
It will source your truth.
It will deliver your answers.

Fly gently and ride the ever constant
beat
and listen.

Just listen.

by Cynthia Adler

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Occupation

Occupation

Intensified collective
rising up.
A sea of oppressed
soul marchers
making way onto the
encrusted infrastructure
of a diseased corporate
takeover.

Pulling to task
the empty heartbeats and frozen veins
that have served
death warrants
onto the very lifelines of
a nation.

A slam bang chess game
played out
in secret halls,
on fattened hills
and greed-fueled exchanges,
using humans as
pawns and guinea pigs
while spinning
empty promises
leading up to a fast
and blindsided
checkmate.

The crowds will expand
in volume,
in voice,
and in controlled rage.
This frozen sand pile will never move
unless drowned
in its own underlying
whirlpool
wrenched from
its posts
pulled from its locked down
moorings
and stripped of its
power.

The voices are growing
and they will shake
the demonic giants
who have planted poison,
raped, pillaged, gagged
and cut the flow of
human dignity.

The people are collecting
muscle,
mass,
infusing the
airwaves
and
holding fast
for an end
to
this endless
nightmare.

 

But what will they do
as winter’s air rushes in,
as encampments freeze
and long for shelter.

The mad dogs are waiting…
waiting
for the mass retreat,
the slinky back down,
for the faceless ones
to finally
go home.

So the people must move…
into second phase
stronger,
more daring,
shaking the foundation,
roaring into the ears
of the lions and bulls
that change is here
game over.

by Cynthia Adler

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