This is my poem in support of the Occupy Wall Street protests. For those who are unaware, there will be protests, in the form of an two month occupation of Wall Street (as well as other centres of financial note globally) on September 17th.
These protests are to draw attention to the international finance cartels that now consume our lives and serve very little positive purpose on the lives of the majority. Indeed, thanks to the international banking crisis (a crisis caused by the banks themselves, that taxpayers worldwide are now paying the reparations of) these banks are now detrimental to society.
The current system cannot continue. Not figuratively. I speak not revolutionarily. I speak factually. The current system is doomed to fail, it creates money out of nothing and has been destined to fail from the start. So please, if you can, if you are able, I urge you to find the nearest protest and attend it. Maybe you don’t have the commitment to stay for two months, that’s fine. Turn up when you can and give your support and assistance to the people who do have the staying power to last two months. Offer your support any way you can, through words, through actions, through publicity, through whatever means you have at your disposal.
To all involved in the protest I offer the following poem, and my utmost thanks for protesting against a self-consuming, detrimental banking system that will not stop unless it has consumed us all, or unless we stop it.
Under the watchful eyes of Liberty,
now blindfolded with dollar bills,
there lies a street of towering stature
that all the Empire’s skyline fills.
Here lies the twisted corpse of justice,
writhing and buckled in death throes,
its mouth sewn shut with dirty thread
and bound from head to bloodied toes.
Here too lays Liberty’s pumping heart
clutched in the hands of a man in a suit.
With his fountain pen he writes “Bye bye”
and beats that heart with leather boot.
The sky here is not blue, it’s green
and the souls all filled with bile and lust
as they read their crooked notes and laugh
at this, their lie, “In God We Trust.”
For there’s no worship of a Lord,
whose soul belongs in Heaven’s sphere,
there’s only belief in greed and gold
and from hate and war they profiteer.
Their gilded Babel-towers rise
to tease the cheek of God himself
and boast do they with zealot’s pride
about their unjust, massive wealth.
But their towers crumble, peel
With uproar all around could feel
the skin cracks away to reveal
the angel with the seventh seal,
as marching on a righteous heel
are men and women pure and real
with hearts that money cannot steal
and souls too proud to ever kneel .
Occupying this immoral street
were scores of soldiers of the truth;
their music filling every alley
their love unmatched from path to roof.
The suited demons passed them by
determined that they should ignore.
But how can one not pay mind nor heed
to such a mighty lion roar.
The cartels may feel safe and sound
high up in their sinful steeple
but this was not for their eyes, see
but those of all the oppressed people.
For in their groups on streets of walls
the protest stood aflame with light,
the light of truth and freedom burns
the light of Love and her great fight.
And that light must be shared with all
for none should have to do without.
Love and truth and light abundant
that’s what life was all about.
So come from far and wide oh, brethren
come to sing and laugh and meet.
Come and take your hallowed place
upon the world’s most corrupt street.
Take place at this most righteous vigil,
and witness man’s thought in evolution.
Take your place on History’s thrones
as you shall instigate revolution.
Occupy against the succubae
and fight the demons, all and sundry.
Occupy those streets unholy
and take back Freedom’s country.