The time is now

Omar ibn Ibrahim al-Khayyám, Persian poet, mathematician and astronomer, 1048-1131.

From Edward FitzGerald’s 1859 interpretation and translation of a most beautiful poet: The Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám

This small extract is not only one of my favourites but also, I believe, reflects the zeitgeist perfectly:

XXXVIII

One Moment in Annihilation’s Waste,
One Moment, of the Well of Life to taste –
The Stars are setting and the Caravan
Starts for the Dawn of Nothing – Oh, make haste!

 

 

So actively passive

Whose world is this?
Who owns it..?

Look at us!
So actively passive;
Patiently,
Quietly
Singing the songs
Of injustice

Again

All generations
And another
Generation on

With the same songs

It’s like we’re whispering in
Case we make the monsters
Angry.

Like it makes a difference.
As though they didn’t know,
Already

Are we seriously trying to bell
These cats? Put an empathy
Switch in a robot?

Like they actually matter..

How much longer shall we
Let them get away with that?

Where is the honour;
The glory
In our Story
When it’s being
Written for us?

Now,
Just whose world
Is that?

Whose world is this?

Whose world is this?
Who owns the Earth
And all its fruit?

The evil few in suits of stolen
Cloth for whom one planet is
Still not enough?

They are
The architects of nightmares
And the monsters lurking
Through our days. They are
The craven,
Preying
Stealing,
Feeding…

Not one single thing is there
These gannets will not eat. Not
One organic creature; not one
Flower, tree or seed; nor yet a
Single mineral; no drop of liquid
Safe; no thing existing, free from
Exploitation

Every nation
Every race
And species
Every place
And space
Turned over
Squeezed
Manipulated
Squandered
Desecrated
And dis-eased

By those who see themselves
As Universal Masters – bastard
Traitors with contempt for Life,
Intent on hastening the earthly
Death of everything.

Well, fuck ’em
Let them go to Hell
Because
You know what?
There’s a bloody
Lot of us and last
I checked, this is
Our world as well.

Billions

This is a companion piece to “We, the Elites..”

[In hope…]

Dear Elites,
We masses, we,
The won’t-be serfs,
The salt and honey
Of the Earth declare:

Your worthlessness
For all you’re worth

And you are on our turf

We’re coming for you

Soon
Unless
You lay your weapons down
This world has had it with
Your lunacy

In numbers greater
Than your poor,
Myopic minds
Can fathom
And no hired crony muscle
You can find will quench
The righteous wrath you spark
Within the hearts of billions

Billions.
Billions.

Let that just sink in…

Then maybe
You’ll begin to comprehend

This is the dawning of your
Necessary end