I still hear the piper play his music,
Forcing humanity to respond to his subliminal hypnotic call
For total submission.
I was prey to the call once,
And could not live life stripped of the intoxicating
'Me-too' rhythmic tune creating carbon copies of myself to chime in unison.
Then some magic moment of insight shone through
I saw the force behind the piper,
And in that instant
The music shook me loose from its magnetic moorings.
Instead a soothing call I heard
With abundant peace and quiet
Like some soothing balm for a tired spirit.
I stopped questioning the piper,
And as for the people that pay the piper,
I knew they have no eyes to see,
Ears to hear
Or hearts to feel-
Reminisce of beings of yesteryear
Making a mockery of human existence.
I grew impatient and wanted to know more about the piper,
as precious time slipped away (only energy is eternal)
And I groped around in darkness for a years
to be exact about fifty,
This music of the media
Enfolded and entrapped me again
In that hypnotic state.
As I followed each note of the piper
The question again arose.
'But pray-who pays the piper and why?'
Night and day
Year in and year out
Dismal, darkness follows
One event into another,
With no hint of enlightening news,
Just the subliminal messages of subjugation
And oppression was all I heard.
With fear in place,
Security a need
And survival a want-
No more was needed to direct the course of human destiny
Which distinctly lay in the hands that paid the piper.
This magic show you and I
Created forced by the enticing music of the piper
Is the illusion of careful nurturing by the director of the show.
How ingenious and yet so simple.
The mind only acknowledges what the eyes are commanded to see
The ears are made to hear,
The tongue is meant to taste,
And the heart is made to feel.
Total attention to the tune
Is what it takes
To make the system work.
For without this predictable pattern of thought
The system has no control
And those unfortunate ones
That fail to respond to the robotic call
Are left to graze in fields of pain
And shunned from public places.
We know the greater the compliance the bigger the profit
The phantom who pays the piper
Will have it no other way.
In haste we made to see
This and that on the media screen
Aligned to malign our thoughts and feelings
In any desired direction
We are programmed not to think
This is a privilege of the few
That sit at the top of the pyramid.
Subliminal tones of hidden messages
Groans through our daily life
The tones of what's expected
And what's needed
And whatever your heart is made to desire plays on ceaselessly
Step out of line
And never again will the music enchant,
instead a different tune is heard,
To the masters of the show-
The men who pay the piper
In the name of science we decree
The findings we make in glee.
But this is filtered and censored
And selected to surface
Only and only if
It serves some profitable purpose
'That which is not fit for human consumption
Is dangerous to the system', they say
don't be fooled they bear no heed to human need.
The monster that feeds off us
Grows larger and satiated
The pot of gold must glitter
Who cares if man destroys this and that,
'That's his problem-
I must have my pound of flesh
I get bored when you speak of fair play and greater balance.
This sport has no blood in it.
Not for me, I declare.
Let the fools be merry
With their toys of mass distraction
Give them more of those electronic devices
That will surely confuse their DNA.
Keep them busy-the busier they are the less time there is for them to think or feel.
In this chosen illusion I will take the lot
The day I have your senses
Tied up in knots '
So goes the tune the piper plays.
Philosophers and doctors talk
Wisely of this and that
Schooled into thinking of
What's good for you and me
Their free speech and thought
Aborted by the dictates of decorum
What appears good
And smells of humanity
Does not fit into their scheme of things
The piper knows that tune well.
If he cannot play the required note we will readily find another
Lured by gold and silver
The piper is dispensable
The music is not-
Play on it must
You cannot break the rhythm
Empires crumble to dust if it stops
But who cares it's only the enchanted music of power and control.
Play it any way you wish but play on-
It's the opiate that controls the masses
If blood should spill-who cares
If babies die in Africa-who cares
It's the music that has to be played,
so say the people on top, controlling the show.
If the dreaded pill of fear they make us swallow
is no more who can tell what would be the in the reality frame.
Don't stop and step outside
The fresh air you breathe
Is a delusion of satanic peril
And speaks ill of the poor piper
Who will surely burn in hell.
In lonely apartments
People stay warm and sheltered,
With stomachs full from the last meal
In some franchised establishment
Of get-fat food.
In the wide open spaces of intense midnight heat,
Semi-naked people sprawl out to pass the night
Without a morsel of food for days.
Somewhere in the world
in cars and buildings
bombs detonate on a predetermined date
as decided by the powers that be
to create deliberate chaos.
Killing innocent bystanders
Making no selection in whom it chooses.
Amidst all this I distinctly hear
The tune-the piper is paid to play.
He held his clasped hands up above his head.
In humble submission
for refusing to hear the music
was prison for twenty seven years in a tiny cell.
But the music he was born with grew
stronger and louder and spread from cell to cell
bursting forth to the world in all its glory.
In his lifetime Mandela did what very few men did,
He created his own music.
The Dalai Lama left his country at the age of seventeen
for no fault of his own and took refuge
in the warmth of the country that offered their hospitality gladly.
Never has he been back to his land
for his ear refuses to hear the music of despair.
But the piper's play goes only to the highest bidder.
Sadly the Lama's offer is paltry.
The piper cares not for human piety,
It's not his highest scale of payment.
Is this the play we meant to see
or have we been kept in the dark
about the complete agenda
the select few have a much more sinister plot yet to unfold
In one quick sweep we knew
The intention made its mark.
But that very intention was set in motion a long time ago.
It was a result of a tailored result
That's all that's needed to start a war of personal profit
A blatant insult on human intelligence
and total disregard for human suffering.
To kill and maime is inhuman
but to let others take the blame is the order of the day.
The only picture you and I will see is
what the piper currently plays.
The show must go on
The dispensable human resource is insured never to be empty.
Supplies we have plenty.
It's like Harvest - the climax of ultimate pleasure.
The more you get them to sow
The more they will have to show- this is good for business.
In deceptive silence we pride ourselves
With knowledge of some academic nature
But it is the successful makings
Of soulless beings
made to keep systems in place
that benefit just a few-
the few pulling the strings that make the puppets play.
Dominating the realm of pure illusion
People spend their lives
Trying to give definition to their lives
Only to find much later
they took the rap for being a cog in a heartless machine
To be harvested when the need arose.
The piper is made to play
This famous harvest tune only when the moments right.
I have heard you speak
Of changing ideologies for the good of mankind.
I have seen them dismantled in disgust.
The plan has just moved to phase 'B 'of tighter control in fact.
I have seen you ignore the cries of human suffering.
The system is not geared for you and I
to lend a hand without a string attached.
I have seen despots display power
Deplete of any emotions related to the human species
I have seen the lavish extravagance of wealth
amidst abject poverty which secures and approves
'Big Brother's presence.
How else can safety prevail?
I have seen the arrogance of the have's
in the presence of the have-nots
as if they absent of any human feelings.
I am intrigued by the dimension of want and need
where fair play is non-existent.
How repetitive life can be.
A cracked record played to ears
whose minds are programmed not to remember
The giving and receiving of simple human needs
that has no place in the music that comes from the piper.
Sinister Agendas in secret places are held
I am told
covertly designed to set in motion
a plan for total human bondage.
They pay for the cost of the carnage.
Lift the veil that blinds you
And unlock the mind
for in that lies the light to undo the spiritual power
that knows no bindings.
You cannot be trapped in the illusion forever,
it's batteries are running low.
Your allegiance is to the realm of infinite possibilities
The realm of consciousness that is inherently yours and mine.
This truth cannot be bought or sold.
The day you became a reality of pure love (life)
Was the day you entered this energy field which is eternal.
To squander this gift on trivial pursuit-
a purposeless illusion of existence
where you made to play a pawn
is a part of the play we can well do without.
The day we were born
we were whole and defined
We continue to be that way.
Feel the wholeness of 'I'.
In this openness no music will touch you except that of love
It knows no confining box of bones or flesh
It does not conform to the music the piper plays.
I have my own music
It came from the journey I took
Of doubt, ridicule and untold humiliation.
You will walk that path as I did.
You will see the piper
You will hear his music
You will wonder then
why he plays this tune in such a predictable fashion.
You will see power manipulated to makes it so.
Then you will realize the need for release
from the blooded bondage we are trapped within.
For ours is the domain of eternal love
for us to use to set us free
Which opens our world to infinite possibilities.
the only truth you need to know.
Man and women they say
Came to be
Around and apple tree
While the ever present snake took part in the holy deal
The polarity of that moment created a lightning flash
Of guilt and hate and caused,
A movement of desperate souls
yearning to make amends for deeds committed in 'sin'.
How alien this is to the spirit that resides in you and me
For it touches a frustrating note-
The human spirit cannot be clothed in fancy robes
Of any color ,creed or culture
To hide its native nature.
For it will not carry the weight of vain deception
Which is the only unifying power we possess.
If it fails the piper then has his way
And all is lost for a pocket full of promises.
We are packages of energy,
dynamically effected by emotions
reflected off whatever we see and do.
What an experience it is
to feel the intensity of the emotional field.
Emotions are the keys with which
we play our music.
You can take it to any scale you want.
But never is the light so bright
as when the note of love is played
for it's energy sets us free.
Fear sucks our energy away
and never has enough
until we stop and turn the other way
refusing to play and change the energy flow to love...
it is our natural suit of armor.
By repressing fear and expressing love
we steady the holy vessel in a state of wholeness,
Each mortal being listening to the music from their own heart
Free of interfering debris to follow a dance
To the music of love displayed as brilliant energy.
For it is fear that keeps the music playing
to control you and me
so that we do not see who really pays the piper.
They plot and plan schemes
within their ranks
selecting one for this head of state and one for that
while you and I are fooled to believe
we had a vital part to play in this and that
because we trusted and believed
what was said by those that be.
The stakes are so high
that there is no room for chance,
the story of a few hundred people
controlling six billion or more
like they always done.
But the veil is wearing thin,
the energy shield weakens
(fossil fuel cannot do the trick to seal the leak)
So you and I are getting to see,
The created illusion of control
And awake to the presence
of life minus the manipulation.
The ultimate truth,
Beaming through the 'I' that is in you and me.
For it is love setting us finally free.