Written By: D. Collins 6/21/25
The longevity of hate has a wide-ranging girth.
It lies dormant for a while then has a drastic rebirth.
Since the 12th century hate has destroyed many populations.
The glimmer of gold, theft of land, and complete annihilation.
Anyone that is different are categorized as lesser men.
Yet, those responsible claim they're devoted Christians.
A skin color, your religion, or whom you choose as a mate.
Will certainly expose you to the longevity of hate.
It's a multi-tentacled beast that goes into foreign lands.
After not controlling the Poppy trade they fled Afghanistan.
Rare earth minerals is now top priority on their list.
Should you choose not to concede your life is at risk.
Means and Ends
Rare earth.
Raw nerves.
Who needs diplomacy
when he can have good TV?
And I’d end Ukraine war in a jiffy,
It’s just that my idea’s somewhat iffy.
The natural resources
Are not for battle courses,
‘If you feel not so ill
Of it, let’s have a deal:
You give me your rare-earth
To you of little worth,
And I’ll, every weapon
You so depend upon,
It’s fair deal, there’s nothing what so sniffy.
______________________
Happenings |18.02.2025| USA, Political, humour
An ancient facade
Of wood and flesh entwined
A dream half-dream in flesh discard
Something undefined
Mechanical sublime
Where soul intertwined
A silent regime
In between space n time
where tears have never dried
Crumbling deity
Crafted by the Artist's hand
Fragile is your truth
Never to understand
Façade faded in wood & flesh divine
In silence it stairs
In horror it stands
In the stillness of the eye, dream’s dream
Metal probes the depths
raw vulnerability, a soul laid bare
On cold stone it dares
History etched in scars
Is this creation
Dreams, Shattered reflections
A reminder of the past
Haunting the present
Beneath the decay
A glimmer of hope
A chance for rebirth
A new rare earth.
What is Ukraine's war really for?
How about funds from rare earth ore
Hear Lynsey Graham shout
"We'll keep Putin out!"
And stash trillions in our cash drawer
Ukraine has 0.4% of the Earth’s surface but about 5% of the world’s mineral resources. Ukraine is one of the world's top 10 titanium producers, ships iron and steel products to Europe, and has ambitions to become a key supplier of the critical minerals Europe needs to meet its electrification targets and cut reliance on Russian energy.
We had Gumby
and Pokey,
And Sanford & Son.
We had Mark Spitz,
And Monty Python.
We had Lenny Bruce,
And Chips.
We had the Sex Pistols,
And A Ballroom Blitz.
We had Martin Scorsese,
And Happy Days.
We had the
Stepford Wives,
And Roe VS Wade.
We had What's up Doc,
and the Rockford files.
We had Gay Pride Parade,
and I can see for miles.
We had Women's Lib,
And Emergency.
We had One Flew Over
The Cuckoo's Nest,
And Mohamed Ali.
We had A Star is Born,
And little Chinatown.
We had Jesus
Christ Superstar,
And Foxy Brown.
We had the VCR
And Adam-12.
We had White Lightning,
and Josey Wales.
We had the Gay
Rights movement,
And Dragnet.
We had the Deer Hunter,
and Stanley Kubrick.
We had the Iran hostage crisis,
and a Six-million-dollar man.
We had Carnal Knowledge,
And The Stand.
We had the
Mississippi Queen
And Tony Orlando.
We had Abba singing
about Fernando.
We had Mick Jagger,
And John Wayne.
We had Rare Earth,
And Fire and Rain.
Turbo1904 ?
Under the crystalline spires
Of your blue sky
Wind is sharp
Carries summers fire
Colors flare here and there
In the frosty air
New birth on a rare Earth
Gold, crimson, sapphire blaze
In the coming new dawn
Awake ancient voices
Sing the songs of creation
And sing the songs of our transcendence
Awake my child
Under crystal clear spires
In a pure blue sky
Greet this summers coming fire
Feel the Colors flare
Near, and afar into the frosty air
Upon this great birth
Greet this new rare earth
Dark angels dance across
a hidden sky, as light races...
down fingers caressing,
this silhouetted rare raging earth.
the thunder rolls around, runs across
this fleeting ground,
caressing raw rare earth.
feel the ground rumbling deep
the rain sweeps all sweet souls way
and
all the days remain(s)...
as dire angels dance, dark...
In a hidden sky
of ash n shade.
Golden are your hours
Slipping into the sea
Suns rays reach
touching the tower
Golden are your eyes
Alight with infernal power
Bleeding amber fire
From delicate lips
Light stretches out from behind
Golden is your breath
Plums of mist delicate
laced intricate grace
Golden is your skin
Sliding under leather sin
You stand behind the facade
Of divinity raining amber flames
Your continent's emerald race
Golden are your hours
Your minutes on the face
The face of this rare earth
Golden is your hair
Cobwebs of amber
Cover your hands
Dripping into my history
Delicate is your time
Golden are your hours
Up the polished ceiling above my bed
In my bedroom resting for a while,
A camouflaged lizard crawls his webbed feet
With dead silence in his spider tongue
Hunting a fly nearby in languorous mood
So unconscious of to-be catastrophe
Bony spine of mine chills enough
To freeze my whole body like an ice
For the certainty of yet another calamities
Befalling on my quiet turbid heart
At any moments of my present life.
My desire to rest for a while with
My frightened and horror-stricken mind
Strives to take up its clothes of fright and horror
As if torched with mother of bomb
Runs naked towards the camera lens
With my screams frozen in frame
That unknowingly and unconsciously adheres
To the severe fading wall of my bedroom.
That portrait of mine destined to hide its reality
Sinks in time warped depth of ocean
Damped with futuristic dirt and dust
Wailing a digger to reveal the quintessence of
An embryonic present matured to rare earth
Out of an ovary of pregnant futurity.
*
Rare earth materials in cars and phones
help us hear and travel and stay in touch.
Much of human capital is in loans,
funding needs like a societal crutch.
Every device turns over in a year
to support immediate stock deadlines.
Endless mining is what we have to fear.
Endless growth is feeding our fat felines.
Greenland is our next source of rare earth stock.
When Greenland is depleted, where to go?
Antarctic continent at six-o-clock
is next place to mine for capital flow.
Like retired folks, it will not be long
when new generations find it all gone.
Up the polished ceiling above my bed
In my bedroom resting for a while,
A camouflaged lizard crawls his webbed feet
With dead silence in his spider tongue
Hunting a fly nearby in languorous mood
So unconscious of to-be catastrophe
Bony spine of mine chills enough
To freeze my whole body like an ice
For the certainty of yet another calamities
Befalling on my quiet turbid heart
At any moments of my present life.
My desire to rest for a while with
My frightened and horror-stricken mind
Strives to take up its clothes of fright and horror
As if torched with mother of bomb
Runs naked towards the camera lens
With my screams frozen in frame
That unknowingly and unconsciously adheres
To the severe fading wall of my bedroom.
That portrait of mine destined to hide its reality
Sinks in time warped depth of ocean
Damped with futuristic dirt and dust
Wailing a digger to reveal the quintessence of
An embryonic present matured to rare earth
Out of an ovary of pregnant futurity.
June 28, 2003