‘But there be others, happier few,

The vagabondish sons of God,

Who know the bye-ways and the flowers,

And care not how the world may plod.

 

They idle down the traffic lands

And loiter through the woods with spring

To whom the glory of the earth

Is to hear a bluebird sing.’

BLISS CARMAN

 

.Religion treads bye-words for anger

Brittle and broiled, brooding slowly

As an excuse to commit murder

In situations most unholy

Vilified hate, so elaborate

Encase bodies riddled with fright

Children are viable targets

Shot in despicable piques of spite

Nonchalant statistics possess

Countless innocents never found

Bottled guile tempers flagrant death

Oceans provide silent dumping ground

Someone’s bound to find fate’s remedy

To ease sickness gripping our world

So full of rampant iniquity

Wickedness incessantly unfurls

 

Shackleton’s Demons:

Hell’s crabs – with poisoned claws – relentlessly climbed to the top of an unbalanced barrel; favored and spiced with West Yorkshire’s finest financial coagulants, they filter ghetto as devils of Civil Right’s destruction, designed to foster and spread like the wretched cancer, predicted to claim us all.  Every time JAH-JAH children plant their precious seeds, Shackleton’s demons filter into our congregation; wolves in undetectable sheep’s clothing, devouring countless green shoots, nurtured for poverty’s salvation.  Keeping the unblemished perpetually on point of hunger, enabling the easiest of manipulation.  They still believe in Satan’s promises; saying prayers to financial insularity, unperturbed when not sleeping at nights, comparing themselves with innocents whom they engage in surreptitious competition.  Fed on the fat of underlying community insurrection, they plunge those poisoned claws into susceptible pastures of hallowed activism, spoiling inaccessible futures with designs formed in the belly, of collusion’s beast.  Of course we will survive: Father-Creator – who we call Judah – has his hand in their pulsing necks, and their hearts encased in prophecy’s treacherous bile.  These revealing ends now signify, those days the RastafarI have spoken of for so long.

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