A Flashback To The Rumble In The Jungle (Apropos To Where We Were & Where We Are Now)

 

Journeying To The Edge Of The Wilderness

 

No, not at last, Now!

Today we must live free!

 

Now is the time  and the time

is now for us to liberate ourselves;

liberate ourselves from our own chains—

chains that have clamped themselves

tightly around our challenged minds.

 

A wasted mind is just that: wasted!

Man’s creation! God never created waste;

just like He—our God—never created slaves!

 

Let us not be as crabs in the bucket; but as those 

that walk upon the banks and across the sands of time

patiently building fortitude to sustain the challenges

out of—as well as in—the rivers and seas of this life.

 

Let us not be like Humpty Dumpy—finger-ripped

and pushed into Things Fall Apart pieces—

that mainstream democracy has freely ignored.

 

What a mockery of the national judiciary—

the so-called Supreme and all the others—

justifying today’s blatant political Quantum Leap!

 

The Brave New World has now come full circle;

its Hunger Gang tentacles jangling satanic

influence upon their warped minds:-

 

Once more and again it’s too late to realized

that you can’t un-ring the rung bell once

it has been rung—Even if it was just in jest:-

Ghosts of slavery’s past creeps back to

regeneration: our free lives still don’t matter

 

As if a setting sun, the clenching, uncomfortable

silent majority suddenly—abruptly—return to

their own weary class-based struggle.

 

Today’s renegade unmasked man now rides

amuck a façade horse of constitutional propriety;

pitting in the faces of the masses, double dog daring

them to do anything about—if they should dare try to.

 

Across the vast distance of present political time and space,

we once again find ourselves struggling in the periphery—

seeking  a higher consciousness of kind to weed out

the cancerous growth that the bogeyman of deception

has planted in the minds of the debilitating weak.

 

As for the prune-dry piano board masses—

liberty once again sags like a limped, dry breast

drained of its milk of justice: abandoning its child;

smirking a devious smile as the night’s deceit

passes swiftly into deeper darkness of itself.

 

Yet behold this!  God is not mocked!

As the night moves further into its darkness,

surely it moves also towards a new rising sun

ushering in the dawning of a new day begun.

 

Truth—stained and debased—preens itself.

Indeed “…weeping may endure…[tearfully]…

for the night, but joy comes in the morning.”

 

And is it not also written

in those enlightening words

that constantly reminds us that…

Whatsoever a man sows…

So shall be his reaping…?