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A.B. Godfreed

Let this be a Warning!

Updated: Mar 30, 2022






Let this be a warning, for all you bad behavior boys and girls.

Let this be a warning, for this couldn’t care less politics.

Let this be a warning, for those bullshit backers in what has surely been hell and high water.

Let this transformation tide be

our change of consciousness, taking place the whole world over.

Let it be

seen in so many signs and wonders,

where nature too has spoken.

Let this be a warning that we all understand,

an indication that we’ve not been righted for far too long.

Let this be a warning

and not the end of those who insist on being on the wrong side of ourstory.

Let this be a warning to those who feed off of others who cannot fend for themselves.

Let this be a warning for money grabbers and intolerance lovers.

Let this be a warning for greed as a way of life.

Let this be a warning for these many years of poverty-of-spirit on-demand,

for instant gratification that is under-mining millions of years of biodiversity,

which must flourish—with or without us.

Let this be a warning that a paradigm shift is here,

that we no longer can engage in crass contests on unlevel playing fields

because we are too busy manifesting visions of “love thy neighbor”,

visions of no more nonentity none-sense,

visions of we are in this unhappy horse manure together—

whether I like you or not,

and so, let’s get on with the hard work, which the brave keep-on doing

throughout much “I can’t breathe!”—literally and metaphorically.

Let this be a warning that you are alone, if you insist on being a robber baron or a robber baron’s sidling sidekick, both still sniffling in the same sad scent of it was over when it began—even though it seemed like the pungent-pain lasted for just about forever.

Let this be a warning, as we thank so very many for their sacrifices

of life

of dignity

of sanity

of hours spent forging on

w/o any sign of it is possible that this madness can be transmuted.

I think of you, bountiful in your grace,

we cannot begin to finish saying your names,

as you bless us from the afterlife

and from here too—

into our new dawning

into this clear and present warning for those who now know that

it is not okay

to hate

it is not okay

to want more and more material matter, ceaselessly,

it is not okay

to trample on divine truths

& trust

it is not okay

to be the biggest baddest bulldozer in the billionaires be bagging the whole world in a basket bound for burning.

It is not okay!

And we know better,

we are better, we did better, and we will continue to transform

ME consciousness into

WE,

oh YES!

we can

clean the mess together,

we can sweep out all these webs of deceit

with a focus on art, beauty, and plentiful visions of hope to more than forge

a decent standard of living for everybody

here-in, heaven on earth,

a modest existence though, one

of waste not and want not

to eat & eat & eat until

the only thing

that’s left to

eat is

the

rich

perched precariously on a melting iceberg in the middle of the sea-level has indeed changed—it’s risen, to cover the remains of all that was lost in so much

extractivism

exoticism

execution

exclusion

extortion

exhaustion

extravagance

exhibitionism

expropriation

exceptionalism

excommunication

exsanguination

extinction

etcetera.

So, let this be a warning of our love of you and this new world we are surely going to be dragging you into. But still, we say choose; whether you want to join us kicking and screaming, while we hug you

into

heart-warming future existence—

no choke holds

here,

just LOVE

of life

of freedom

of liberty

of justice (not just us)

of communal

of sharing

of moderation

of each other

of stewardship

of symbiosis

of simplicity

of honesty

of integrity

of trust

of all the goodness that seems to have gone to stay deep under a long line of populism put upon people, who are simply scared of inundation by unknown unknowns:

call it difference

is a dish

served cold

when you refuse to see that I am your other you

also searching for the same succor,

which you seek

in an era of

can’t take

no

more

just cannot

especially when its 1%, of nothing,

game over, capital

you have nowhere to go but into

giving unto each of us this: renew our lease on life

amidst this great

and, perhaps, last

warning.

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