IPCC again

The latest disclosure of climate change fraud by the IPCC:

How Met Office blocked questions on its own man’s role in ‘hockey stick’ climate row, see here

When will the madness end?

Internet Censorship

“Great is truth, but still greater, from a practical point of view, is silence about truth. By simply not mentioning certain subjects… totalitarian propagandists have influenced opinion much more effectively than they could have by the most eloquent denunciations.“
Aldous Huxley

So, the first steps are being made by the elite to censor the Internet. Only mass protest can prevent them succeeding.
Internet Censorship: Major Truth-Providing Websites Blocked By Asia Netcom To New Zealand Users, see here
and more from the victims here

Divergence

There are those who embrace all illusion
and follow the old piper’s call
see no deceit in fashion’s daydreams
refuse to read what’s on the wall.

Some are fighting still to square the circle
to conquer what they can’t defeat
to walk a straight line on roads bending
while trying to make both ends meet.

So much energy lost to false idols
whose masks hide the faces of fear
whose clocks measure time ever ticking
while life passes without a tear.

————————————————-

Leaves rustled and I heard it sigh
My feelings soared to branches high
In silence then we bade farewell
I walked from where that tree must dwell.

Harassment

They’re into my orchard I’ve tended with care
demanding their share of my wares.
They trample the lawns and cast stones all around
and my protests are answered with stares.

They knock on the doors and through windows appear;
they’re watching and waiting their chance
to take what they say I’ve no right to refuse
but their actions just toughen my stance.

One day they will come and it’s not far away
when nothing of freedom remains
when all that I’ll have is what I am allowed
by the soulless ones dragging their chains.

Restless Universe

Big Bang or Little Fizz
it’s all the same to me
while looking up to darkness
and down through history.

Photons from yesterday
fall onto seeing eyes
creating scenes of splendor
and of stupendous size.

Numbers uncountable
connected by the one
whose breath of life awakes us
that leaves nothing undone.

Changing indifference
is purpose but a whim?
The limits of our reason
patrol its outer rim.

Souls ever wondering
is there a smile above
a goodness overwhelming
a source of care and love?

Dimension shift

Young Roger was a space cadet
his elder sister too.
Mom was Commander of the fleet.
What Dad did no one knew.

The ship on which our Roger served
was called to Planet X.
A stupid name I hear you say
but Y they’d go to next.

History of Thought

“Thought is an interloper, which thrusts itself into the affairs of the senses.
It has a profit motive: thought directs the activity of the senses to get something out of them, and uses them to give continuity to itself.”
U.G. Krishnamurti

The following was written by someone who arrived later

Once there was Mother Thought
who gave birth to Baby Thought.
How this happened is not known
to this day.
Baby Thought wouldn’t listen
to Mother Thought.
It knew everything better.
Mother Thought and Man
were inseparable.
Baby Thought wanted more
and in its frustration
devoured Man
and its Mother.
But Baby Thought was then alone
using Man to weave its dreams.
Mother Thought looked on sadly
helping Man whenever she could
from inside.
Baby Thought eventually went mad
and Man with it.
Mother Thought departed
and was never seen again.

Back to basics

Should I do like the rest and fall
into the pattern meant for all
or should I struggle on to see
behind the mirror and be free.

No words can sooth or arms console
as feelings surge out of control.
When thought no longer flames desire
then burns inside a different fire.

No help will come I know that now
though it may find me anyhow:
the force that shines through tigers’ eyes
that men see only in disguise.

A smile so small that lights a room
a tiny laugh that ends the gloom
and little clasping fingers say
what others can no more convey.

Snow in the Netherlands

I come to cover all in white
bring crispness to the cold of night.
My crystals fall to mesmerize
awaken memories that rise.

The winter is my time of year
from anywhere I can appear.
In showers born over warmer seas
or clouds brought by the easterlies.

This year and end of last it’s true
I’ve drifted and become ice too
but for the children it’s a treat
to build a snow man in the street.

The sledge when greased again appears
to slip and slide to laughs and cheers
and snow balls fly from many hands
to shrieks and cries from where one lands.

A wondrous landscape meets the eye
of one still young and brings a sigh
for though some wish me far away
warm hearts find magic in my play.

Winged companion

Nothing personal

I’m privileged I must admit
though sometimes I my teeth must grit
to make it through when times are tough
when life’s road up ahead gets rough.

I have an angel on my side
whose patience cannot be denied
but still it’s there when there’s a need
to overcome and then proceed.

Do I deserve to be one who
is favored? Can there be so few?
Perhaps a struggle draws them near
like facing up to some great fear.

I often worry that it may
decide it’s had enough some day
and suddenly fly off to find
one more deserving of its kind.