Tag Archives: corruption

SCRIPTURES ACCORDING TO SHADOWS: The Assassins’ Creed

 

 

The 10th Mat lecture note consisting of 42 slides given by the Head of Department to the Dove Agents in the year 31 AD. Corey Red and Precise softly jamming “Representing” in the background as the lecture slideshow begins.

 

From street to school

Don’t be rude under my rule

Wisdom lies in my long cane

Feel the pain and reap the gain

If you come hungry and humble

I’ll be so open you won’t grumble

Leave religious and moral biases behind

And I’ll be sure to blow your mind

 

THE MISSION

 

A pair is fair

Partner up don’t fear

Hit the armory

Be skilled in weaponry

Don’t dillydally or sway

You’ll live the assassin’s way

 

Penetrate both industry and street

Smart, efficient and discreet

Mix with civil servants and thugs

Bump fists, shake hands, and give hugs

But don’t live like they do

You’re just passing through

 

Strike with the gospel of peace

Save lives without charging fees

Make tested faith your bulletproof

‘Spiritual’ doesn’t mean ‘without proof’

Stuff up critically on the word

Wield scriptures with logic like a ninja sword

 

This is beyond martial arts

You’ll be fighting the dark arts

Your war in earth’s dangerous parts

Against internal and national corruption starts

But it will take its toll

You can check the poll

 

A pair is fair

The Spirit in you ain’t for fear

He’ll give you intel keeping you updated

When tortured don’t be intimidated

He is only baiting the enemy

And will sure wreck the tyranny

 

Hit the principalities

Enslaving the communities

The thug or homosexual ain’t hostile target

It’s that Lucifer who needs the bullet

And soon as mission’s done

The Spirit handles your extraction

 

The lecture ended to the song “I don’t pack a ‘matic” by S.O. the Kid; and the Dove Agents flew out, easy and unpredictable as the wind, sharp and fierce like fire.

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coming clean

source: gettyimages.com

 

It amazes me
Your expression
When you strut about
Like you own the dunghill

The dunghill
Is where men need to go
Where they need to clear out their lives
When they need to get rid of the old
Oh yes, they need you
They need you for such things nonetheless

Great mistress of the night
You are the lover and husband of our dark habits
The mother of the monsters growing inside us
The nurse of the festering sores
That mock our daytime puritan act
You keep them decaying
So we never stop needing you
For such things nonetheless

You give meaning to our addictions
You give us shame to carry like babies
And what terrible nannies we make
Sooner or later when the babies drop
And the skeletons you hid for us in the wardrobe fall out
You are the one we run to

All we have become we owe to you
When our life stories are told
In the secret cinemas
To fellow decadents like us
They are never complete without you
The mark you have given us
This mark of corruption
The dirty stinking clothes you stacked up for us

You are very important to us

You walk about proudly
In this dunghill
Where all you are
Is the keeper of dirt
You own us

But
What then happens
When we wake from our slumber
And start washing our clothes
When we take our wounds to a doctor
When we clear out our closets

When your power over us is taken away
And we do not bow or cower
Before you in devoted slavery
When we forever stop making that booty call
And actually start loving the light
When we stop hiding away in the darkness
Afraid to be seen for how we really look
When we finally begin
Feeling so clean and free
Freedom from you
Freedom from ourselves

What will you do
When we finally come clean?

The Ghost’s Rants: On Beautiful Dark Things In Men’s Souls

Roll the booze out into the streets
The writer is awake now
And unlike some of his psychedelic colleagues
This one is a complete teetotaller

Darkness creeps in on the globe
And the viperoid children dance out
Spawning “goodness” all over the place
But thanks, I’ll pass
I don’t need your charitable donation
A lovely venomous gift
Perfect poison for the pure soul
Birthing the gentle worm of darkness
The adorable monster that men are addicted to
The silent dark shadow following them
Even in broadest sunlight
Despite their sparkling wears and smiles
The soft white delightsome maggot
Laughing sweetly with them
With sparkling teeth like a saw
Eating away at the soul of the host
Soon that man is seen for the rot that he really is
You wriggle your seductive hips in my face
But I want none of what you are selling
I have lost appetite for that forbidden fruit
Let me write and live and sleep in peace
What more can you want from me
After all, I have made my bedroom
Six feet below the ground level
At perfect unison with earth and bones
Will you rock my knocked out senses
Or can you corrupt a dead man

Heck! I am not praying for the day to dawn
I am not hoping for an escape from the black
My light may not be more than 12volts’ worth
But in the darkest of periods it will shine
Despite the corruptions of souls and institutions
Though the grave burns the ghost still R.I.P.s

The Dance Of The Dead

It’s high noon again and the spirits are warming up, contrary to the more popular myth that they favour the dark of the night. Anyway, it’s always bright and “noony” here in spirit-land, without any sun. Of course not, since they don’t see as we mortals see. Of all possible meeting places (including the Alley of Corruption, the Fortress of Power, the Clubhouse of Sensuality and the Castle of Pride and the Shrine of Religion), they prefer The Hall of Open Hearts down in Hade’s Square of the Dead –even to The Majestic Place by Right Hand on High drive. (Any visitor to the spirit-world may get directions from The Book). Blood-printed invites had been sent to all correspondents –dignitaries from Hell, the spirit-princes over different world regions, and the glorious ones from Heaven Enchanted. And, uh, the demons couldn’t present their invitation cards seeing as they couldn’t resist licking up the blood. Nonetheless, they were allowed in being easy to recognize.
I was one of the few mortals given the privilege of viewing this occasion. I can’t say why I was chosen, but I couldn’t resist an opportunity as totally awesomely thrilling –if I may exclaim –as this.
To pass through the gates, one had to stoop to the lowest and drop whatever baggage one came in with; then the steps rose steeply beyond the humbling entrance, gallant epic steps flanked on either side by the holy angels and the Holy Witnesses –the spirits of the redeemed who had died on earth. The entrant would then move out into an open space, taking in the wonders of the venue. I daresay the astronomical size of the hall beat any I ever thought possible in existence.
On the far side of the auditorium were the seats for the hellish dignitaries. Lucifer himself proudly took the spotlight of the region, flanked by the demonic principalities and spirit-princes of world regions. They were arrayed in dark-misty suits and bloody-red royal robes. There was another entrance on their side. Thankfully I wasn’t led through that!
On an elevated platform overlooking the stage was the Creator-God. The being had no particular form. At least it was hard putting any form because I couldn’t see details beyond the surrounding awe. If it was possible to combine the purity and loveliness of the best fountain or a baby dove, with the liberating aura of the coolest cruising wind or the stallion breath, with the mysterious halo of the mistiest mist or the owl-gaze, with the awe of the greatest, steepest mountain or a living unicorn, with the fierceness of the raging volcano or the injured rattlesnake, with the warmth of a mid-winter summer-sun or the insides of a kangaroo’s pouch, with the most indescribably awesome sight you have ever witnessed, then that will be a start for YOU. As for me, it is already the most awesome (to grossly downplay it) sight I have ever witnessed –the presence of the wholeness of the Creator-God in the Open Heart.
And, oh, the stage was –a word I don’t use indiscriminately even for ladies –BEAU…TIFUL! There were no steps abutting on its boundaries. It seemed to be floating in the air, in the centre of the hall, surrounded by the Abyss of Sin. It seemed it could only be accessed by taking huge leaps of either foolishness or faith. I wouldn’t however want to wager on the former. The stage was whitewashed by Floodlights of the Word; and was so clean I could lick it.
Despite the huge audience this event pulled, there was such order and quietness in the hall. It became frighteningly or chokingly more tense as the procession to the stage began for the main event -THE DANCE OF THE DEAD.