COLLAPSE
Flaming towers of the corporate demon
Collapsing into heaps of ash
Brought down by men in caves a world away
Buildings of steel built with paper and ink
Off the backs, muscle and sinew of the working
dead.
Foreshadowed the coming destruction of this house of cards
Designed to sustain the greed and insecurity of the few
We sheeple, mutants of powerful beings that forfeited
Our divinity out of the need for a false sense of security
Wage slaves built on debt, in paper we trust the not-Federal Fed.
Private bankers who carried out the largest theft in history
Played out in broad daylight, we handed them our health care
And they returned the favor by squeezing the life blood out of the
suffering debt ridden masses
Gouging the walking wounded with usury interest rates
Sucking the last drop of life from its willing victims
Then robbing our investments in a few months
Of manipulated legalized gambling on the New York Stock Exchange
That great casino of Western Civilization
That places bets with our savings and stacks the deck and
weights the roulette wheel
Then spins away half our paper and ink like a magician
disappearing a coin
But like the fall of the towers, built of paper and ink
So will the monolithic hoarders be felled
As their mignons wake up and recognize that they are imprisoned
Not with walls but with the paper that runs their lives and fills
their wallets.
Paper that’s only value is our consensus to buy into the fraud.
The awakening; the dawn of consciousness needs return after
millennia of fitful sleep, waiting just ahead like a whispered promise
Arise you sleeping Gods and take back the divinity that was
always yours
Your very source is the power to create the new world.
Currency that supports community can be the momentum
to a new age
Envisioned to support cooperation and sharing and the death of
competition and hoarding the life blood of the vampire
banking system.
The thin crust of the material world is ripping open to reveal the
rising of the Phoenix
And remembering of our divine power that rises from the
ashes of paper and ink.
GOD IS VERY MUCH ALIVE AND WELL
God of the 20th century, thy name is science
Hallowed be thy double blind test
For it shall reveal material proof of reality
Exhaulted scientist with your Newtonian view of the universe as
machine with unconscious parts arranged merely for the functioning of the
lifeless fireballs spinning like random pinballs in some cosmic funhouse.
Lifeless components bouncing randomly through space and time, ignoring the
miracle of creation all around them.
Praised be thy definition of the universe to exist of only that which we can see
and measure
Whose technical manual as bible has banished the ancients’ wisdom
Builders of the Pyramids and Stone Hedge whose engineering surpassed our own
technology
And left gapping reminders should we grow too heady with our own
accomplishments
Monoliths rising from the desert sands, built with 800,000 pound stones because
it was so easy to haul, lift and stack with the precision that belies the ability to
pass a card through its mortar.
Those inferior primitive civilizations whose mystery schools told of the oneness of
all things
“As above , so below”, spoke Hermes or Thoth, incarnations of the same giver of
civilization
Sun Gods who literally flew their craft out of the portal in the sun
Portal to the infinite energy field underlying all of the material creation
Bypassing the speed of light and flying sun to sun; galactic center to galactic
center.
God is dead proclaimed the atheistic nihilism of the 60’s half asleep, angst ridden
minions of sacred science.
They smashed their atoms looking for an answer to creation
When the answer lay in the empty space between the infintessimal remanants of their colliders that is 99.9999% of the whole.
God is very much alive and doing well, thank you very much
Existing within your very cells, protons spinning at the speed of light
Creating Beings of light
Like a vast lake made of God, we exist like eddys in the water, a dynamic of the
whole.
Made of it, immersed in it, we have never left it, so no need to return
No need to await the coming of God, for God has been and is always here
Reflecting back to us our own conscious desires and fears
Sin is not a fall from grace but separation from Source
Evil is not some outside force, but the creation of our own minds manifest back to
us in an endless reflection between two mirrors.
God is alive in the love that transforms a water molecule
Transforms polluted waste into beautiful crystal merely with the Word.
These secrets we have heard, but whose translation has been lost in the
mist of ages past.
So long separated from Source that we no longer understand why we have
manifest and who we are.
The God they pronounced dead defied the reality of their own existence
An oxymoron as God pulsed within the very atoms of their own corporeal being
God is still alive and well, and He is infinite you!