Someone
Someone…someone hear me.
I am Gaia…
Someone hear me…
I am your Goddess, but you disrespect me, mistreat me…
I am your Queen, but you’ve made me your slave.

Someone hear me…
I am Gaia…
I am your rock…
I am your mother…
And you…are my ungrateful children
Who suckle at my breast and then spit in my face.

Someone hear me…
I am Gaia…
Someone hear me…
I am your rhythm, but you’re not dancing.

Someone hear me…
I am Gaia…
I have given you life….
But, my children, you harm me, rape me…
Must a mother be treated this way?

Someone hear me…
I am Gaia…
Someone hear me…
Respect your sister and brother…
Love your Mother.

Jcat

someones!!!!

what a sweet and endless feeling of family and love...!!!! let us never forget how productive our collectivity is in positive and beautious compelling and real ways!!
I LOVE US!!!!

Ok.
Lets change the world.
peace up.x

om shanti big ups all round. (circles of belonging)

Someone

More Photos

Bloody games!!! We are not going to China this time....why?

again...
come on sing with me
sing with me...
the strongest of all
brother Steve told the thief
I wont...
I will not participate...
there is war...
and you are the Mr...
who gives the weapons to the killers
to the rappers of the women
to general al-Basir and his men
your veto
China gives them permission
genocide is your child China....

let us say it again
we have no problem with the Chinese
ras babi loves the people
and hates the oppressors
art is the mystical thing
we will show the whole world
we will support the victims of these bloody games
in Tibet
in China
and in Burma and Darfur
the people have the right
to enjoy their living
just like you and others
why not?
with art we can say what they want
we can be their voice
we are humans
we see their suffering
we hear their screaming
the guns are shooting them
and we are the ones
who can stop China from supporting
a punch of fanatics
a punch of real lunatics
who do not care
all what they want
is attention
carry on sing it
the song for the people
with art...
we are defending the people
NO
NO
HUNDREDS OF NOS
please do not go
do not be the one
who share their guilt
do not go to China this time
do it for the sweetness of their black skin
slow down the rhythm
let the drums get in
and we all sing
in my name they have done horrible things
the people made Hitler
millions of brothers and sisters Jews have gone
just like that
he has killed millions
and our world was impotent
no words
violins and candles are taking control
innocents souls
blood and shame are covering our life
we ran from Rwanda few years back
we are ignoring the people in Palestine
let us start to show the power of art
the Rastaman says
hay mista
are you listing?
this is a pen not a gun
it is a word not a bullet
or one of your bombs
mista...
you have no heart
we know that
it is a bout the power of art
maybe...
maybe...
something is left there
in the dark
in your soul mista
it is just a call
and the strongest song
I AND I AND I
ever had

Almajnuun and the thief.(some one)

Is this all the world has to sell?
I would have thought it had more.
Where are the women?
I know, i know, transient behaviour.
Lust.
Deeply filled with a grip of self serving gratification or an endless pursuit of joy and union at the service of some hot lookin-atcha punanaay.
What ever bites your biscuit.
The naturalness of effortless attraction, mutually bound in the fascination of the other as the self is unburied from its cold solitude.
Self.
That is what life is no?


*

can she see us?
(she can see.)
*


i do not know this place.
(it is her sweet dream)
It was before my time. It belongs to my father.
I can see his dreams, his curls and ambition, subtle, pervasive, ever consistant and loyal.
(he finds a woman)
She will be my mother. She was here at my birth.
(((sweet dream)))
she will be the death of me, bringing me here.
I do not know where to belong. In whose hands. Is it envy or fear....or does no one care.
If i cannot be seen...will they hear me?
I care not for their words.
These sentances will strangle me. like tentacles from the deep come to drag me down.
I must be sure to corse through these turbelent waters with an intrepid and wicked speed.
Ill winds will cut me a guidance and the wash of grief stricken wretchedness will find no meeting with me.
I am grown under what has been done or will seem to do, i am thorough, i am fully
i come from under
from under from under

breathe my stink
feed on my dirt my blood my hunger
take without knowing, steal without plunder
let all these things find their way into your blood, by poisen and chemical and breath....
that will be your sickness.
Nothing else will hold you.
Fail in your choices.
Let scripture fade let ink dry up
but let blood flow....freely.
And let the words be rewritten.

blow cruel winds that mark my passage
blow free and wild and chase the sun from my shadow
blow through bones and bricks and mortar my little pigs
devour the stillness and tear from them their sounds

we will open a new age.
And Death, sweet Death, will be its guidance, its gaurdian.

Remember now, oh life, that which is born to you now.
For it will leave, as the winds blow and push you for a time, so life is you for but an experience
the wind shall leave, and i with it, turning our backs to the moon and sun and self
where will we rest?
what is for sure?


(a change, now, as good as a rest,
for we are not alone.
Mixed feelings and the sound of a voice,
he asks and can only say):

do you remeber when we kissed and you layed by my side?
You said we lived close, that we could find the centre of the whirlwind where it is calm and there is peace, there we would hold each other,
and if the storm took us
we would fly to death but not be torn apart

(Days pass, turning into years, the seas rise and fall, oceans take land and new lands are born. Pharoahs, kings, politicians and priests, rise and fall, ownership takes lands and new lands are born.
The ocean, the rain and the strom, wash away the kingdoms of men.
The earth will eat itself to live forever.
You may be swallowed, consumed.
You may be devoured, feasted upon.
You may pass gently back into it all.
Death does not consume life, it is the guide of eternity.
And it will guide you.
As it feeds you, clothes you, and lays down your anscestors so their blood can rise in you.
Death does not stop life.
Life continues.
Forever, it would seem.
So we wait.
Await the coming of the end.
How will it be?
A change? to what? to where?
How can it end?
Wait and see.....)

its taking a long time.
When does it get over.

But i am learning things. Many things. I have seen the gold rise and fall. I have perfected, a thousand times, the art of desire. I have seen these trees be grass be ocean be marsh and fenn land, desert to jungle, and back again.
This earth does not stay still.
And all the while, this great darkness spins all things purposefully, stars flood into being and light is sucked into itself to produce more stars elsewhere.....Planets dance spirals and egg shapes around collosall orbs or burning......existance is in each one, the gasses, stars, rocks and burning sunstars......and pity the mortals who think that existance only looks human or animal....vegtable....when all things are defined a course by creation and do not belong to themselves........
How the stars would laugh if i could explain it to them.
But they will not.
If only you could see it all.
His majestys greatest plan, to sacrifice into life.

i have watched you now for a long time. I know your ways and have realised your secrets. I know your issues, motivations, dreams and desires. I am nourished with a clear understanding of who you are. I see the things you don't see. I see why. I know your heart beating, your tounge when you sleep. I know your every breath, th eones you breath eand the ones that go missed. I see your toenails grow, i notice the movement of hair as it gets longer. I am slow, and quick, and i am aware all the time.
Your virtues, and vices, are mine to behold.

The stars would be amazed to see what i can see.
But they will not.
It is funny. I shall be my own sun.

I shall not miss them when they are gone.
But i will always wish that i could have one with them.
One with you.

(Again the mood changes, but only to turn away.
Now we face someone, but we are not sure who it is.
We cannot go too far.

We cannot go too far.)