This Cannot Stand

Is there anyone left to care anymore
This life of subsistence deadening our hearts
Constant manipulation from those holding sway
Horrific visions of hate and use gone unnoticed
Power and greed rending death to thousands
Color, creed, or blood enough to end their paths
Who is there among you yet to care

The voices of the few, drifting on the winds
Telling stories, giving warning, unheard in the din
The blood-running river, the oil must flow
Both sides knowing, only they the right to go
Puppet masters pulling strings, telling what is real
Condemning any or all, dare they not follow this shtick
Pushed aside to be ground under heavy heal

I cannot stand aside
Hide my head within the sands
My dreams all showing true to path
Darkness spreads across this land
I must tell the stories, must share my humble fire
Give all warning of this end of time
Most urgent and harshly dire

Gentle reminders of Earth Mothers needs
Poignant memories contained by our souls
Of better days, a simpler time
Peaceful lives full of love’s embrace
Respect for all, whether minute or large
Knowing our small part in creation’s space
Harmony spreads, and peace comes too, across the Mother’s face

And in the silence of the mountains high
I hear the whispering call of the winds
“They will not listen. Cannot be made to care”
But I hold this cannot be true,
So I stand ready as always before, hand out to offer my aid
And reach for the brightest futures
Where my heart no longer need sob….

Steve ‘Easy’ Whitacre September 28th, 2007

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Puppet Masters

We were…

That galling gleeful couple
Ever beaming with love and laughter
Two bright sparks of life, together
A blazing sun to illume the world
Dancing our way through our days
The storybook tale of combined souls
Two as one from the loving dream

He’s gone…

Desolate meaningless war
Another sand blown nightmare
Raping, burning, killing, genocide
For not else but the greedy few
Travesty of manipulation and lies
With the commonality of result
Irreplaceable uniqueness of a life lost

Wasted, broken, casualty…

Taken by the puppet masters and their minions
Those invisible hidden controlling maniacs
Ever pushing for more and more, power and wealth
Sitting oh so safe on their great piles of gold
While rivers of blood run from blackened twisted hands
A nightmare of death to wash across our world

How do I stop them…

Steve ‘Easy’ Whitacre October 9th. 2008