Land And The People

 

How can the Fulani tell us that the hindered nature of the upbringing makes their love so strong , the upbringing further hardened by Islam made anvils out of them, they seek to clasp and gnaw, take and sit a little harder on what they seek to posses, oh they might eat quite the much to get denser but aren't we all ethereal.

How can they tell us that we are in the wrong and have becomes soft, We all used to roam this stretch together why are you stopping now, Why did you relax and make us feel like we couldn’t just because you sat down first. Did you know that I even knew here before you did?

Told your offspring that this place is yours well if that be the case everywhere then is mine He says: Have you forgotten that movement is the only thing? Can’t you see how much I invest in cars and trucks. movement is all that matter not just cloths bags and food

You are the one thinking wrong for what we both owned You killed a person. Enforced probity makes one depraved as the desperate search for reciprocity when not met make demons of them, Oh the canon, you must follow the canon,- but what about humanity??

They sigh tiredly at the same face who always come to patronize and the same orthodox conversations and when they are neglected for being moribund but can’t find no one to share it with, they must brave a depravity for they are only human, I guess.

So they wedge themselves in big mansions but it doesn’t fit, hovering above them are face painted blood they have spilled in search for a sequester, making their communities warm, them restless, an enterprising too far, a routine too deadening, a person besides. Whether they find precipice and make reparations, The land laughs at the folly It will survive them and their ignorance.

Looking at what can be regarded as sheer absurdity for an expanse dinosaurs once promise their young. Swift’s Lilliputian egg all over again, They are killing their brothers, just so that they can nod their heads repeatedly at a wall and see a homogeneity invented.

A thought they can’t out-think, a compromise thy can never reach a blindness, they can’t cure, Even if the Fulani and the Jews have the same nose and ear the land will survive them and their conquistador thinking

The money is cursed We have to be demons to eat here Hail, those who are demons!!it’s not easy being. As we pray we break free, I ask can one really circumvent from the source? Will this reach you when you are still human, For what is the use of a well made pap if the babe is dead

Gentlemen, I'm not one of those who speak with their hand in their pocket - Adolf Hitler

For they are locusts and they are rapacious, chased around and embroiled and encased in their own self deception They who have power fear to relinquish it, and invented indoctrination fear every thing as shaking it’s core, it doesn’t fit and will never stay , while stretched trying to balance an indoctrination, You struck a match and set people alight

Have Zionism inquired and evaluated itself?, this brash response to every perceived foe betrays a shaky foundation, built on abook whose binds wear with the time.

You could stay with us and we could mesh and find no difference if you admit with a smack on your forehead that maybe I must have overrated, maybe this god really isn’t the one we should be serving? A God without a compromise is quite daft, right?

But even if you don’t and you demur for a thousand years, and make this is conversation and a precipice the land will survive it too

In inundation and melioration the true God will win, for your children in comfort will water down your depravity, will find and tether the love you fail to see, and we will one day watch as the temples and mosques become clubs and malls, on that we will look for you and find only stones and hedges.

Overproduction leads to a bloated sleaze and engineered scarcity Thoreau said that It is for the want of man that many are created The land is their wealth succor and peace

They live and they are conditioning others to be like them Pompous in ignorance Bloated in filth Militarized our conversation as we don't know how to behave or be humans to ourselves They are secluded and in constant bereavement They fight for their seclusion in vitriolic sensationalism They were the ones who cut out the hand they wanted to shake now they are with a detached arm that is tottering and an amputee twice shy, can you fuck the ground? or the brick of the house? Tick-tock you have 20 more years and the land will survive you too.

 He wields his spirituality in his fanciful bead strutting an affluence as if to say this is what you get for worshiping on our side Folly laughable and quite survivable They have good night life minimalism and a quiet that they would love to share but due to their escalation of commitment they must brave their Night frowns and admit their roles as killers and usurpers but they do feel incomplete.

Nights where the same customers comes by and they long for the taste of another skin, they might bemoan their loss for the brain loves panoply and the kaleidoscope of colors voice and seasoning Over production leads to the paradoxical excess atavistic convoluted

They like the Fulani have no place to stay, chased away all through history as they are possessed with the blood of usurpers, the motif of avarice which foisted a business and market society that have destroyed the world today.

The land will survive them They might emit unease, and are tired. They might want to rest but the land has rejected them, It will filter out and dilute them and their borrowed ethos.

They cant stand superiority and self reliance Why is he smiling to himself contentedly??

I reply: Oh it's just a plaaaant,boiled with riveting music of meditation Sometimes I wish I could access our aquifers and just pollute it with marijuana so that when you eat, sleep and bath you are always happy, aside from healing traumas, calming me down, It give me a better to compare me by so I evaluate myself and form up a well rounded progress. They would do well to legalize it and end all wars.

They all want to conquer the world, but they can't and will never conquer anything. The land will survive them and their pitiful ambitions. they are always suspicious never at peace Always looking again asking Who are we to say they can't stay?, -The Land!! They say The extravaganza of Christianity makes them pompous We say The reticence of Islam makes them depraved. You have failed in teaching a hard lesson, your hands are stained in blood.

I feel they miss themselves and want each other love is the cause of hate

They might see as filthy, but let them know that all of nature is filthy, Filth is love and filth meshes, filth is together and filth is spirituality. We refuse to learn your accursed discipline for the world Is ours to roam. We reject your Ethos and it’s depravity, we reject your market society. You might build mansions but your kingdoms will be dilapidated. They will die, and so will their children and the land will survive them.

For Palestine; the hindsight

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