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Ode To The Liberators

Yesterday, when after smoking a cigarette i wanted to return to amsterdames public library to finish my latest post i have been stopped by one of bodyguards. He has told me that i am not welcomed there. When he has denied me to give a reason of his ban i has asked him to call for a boss.

Some othere bodyguard that has come also told me that i cannot use this public library because i was shouting when i was returning. Well, sometimes i do this, as some in the Hyde Park in London, but not at this time. I asked again to meet with their boss. They has refused and started to provoke me by insulting.

When i still stayed calm and asked them to call the police, as i want make case on discrimination, they has used brute force and has throw me out of the library. They was actting in so barbarian way, as i was just a toxic dump for them, that need to be throw outside. They was acting as (and even has said this loudly when i was shouting for police) the police will do nothing. They even has tried to threat me by saying that they can take me to psychiatric hospital.

For me, this day and this incident was also an act of solidarity with Mumbai but also Thailand , Iraq. People of this nations was not waiting without protesting against their occupying forces, as so many do here! Yes, this is global call for global snap pool to open the gates to the Star Age...

Their arrogance has waked up demons from old past times. Our oppressors have worst days ever: the true Nightmare. The Bali cultist, again, as in time of the biblical King JLechu will see social justice and some Royal File is going to be open, for them it is like travel to Armageddon...

Today i has spent whole day tracking back people that has throw my father to psychiatric hospital in soviet time in Poland and that has 'founded' him an 'electro-shock'. For long time they was not punished, but just few days ago - some of the polish brains - has been arrested by Central Anti-corruption Bearuo of Poland - CBŚ . One of them was a dignitary in Poland in soviet time and has come back just year ago in full splendor to takeover again one of main position in polish structures.

I do not know why, but in the North America in this same time when CBŚ has arrested our 6, current President of the United States has pardoned the 14th people, that was in prison since half o eighties. Some of them was also connected to this case. Now they can make investigation...

The problem with my story and story of my father is that there was somebody in the Holly See that has thought, was conviced, that fate of my father was cooked by soviets agents - he was like a symbol and we was going to reconcile in some Castle, Castle 67, as i call it... But full truth was terrible for our main allies - it was done by the people that are from very this same circles as this one you can find in my yesterday post...

I want to show you how complicated is my story, story of my familly and my land and all harms that was done to them by some people in United States, that was 'fightinhg' for liberation of Poland. Because this issue is not simple i will do this throught poetry, images and history of some distant places, that was not so commonly know. Oh, ironio. The United States have thier Confederation, the Commonwealth of Poland had thier - the Confederation Targowicka. Both are still ruling - and the Commonwealth of Poland still is missed from our maps, there is Poland, but officially they call it the Republic of Poland. Since 400 years there is no Commonwealth on maps...

The real problem for all of us is that there is something that connect and cross this Confederations - it is faith - wrong faith - a fruit of the false Reformation - whatever Catholic or Protestant. There is one very serious error, something that has been forgotten and cutted of - it is indeed TRUTH - PRAWDA. And the essence of this problems lies back into The Union of Utrecht and The Order of Malta.

Before everything i would like to tell you something about the Illuminati of Bavarian, thas has been born from wast and semi-independent not-so secret structures that was called in past the Freemasonry movement (pol. Wolnomurarstwo). Before the hegemony of Illuminati, in past there were many logues of freemasonry - but there was three colors - three types - that has shaped them:
  • blue one - most popular and common - mass one
  • red one - ethical one - rooted into Old Order (pol. Stary Zakon) - the logue of PRAWDA
  • black one - the most secret - philosopher one
Hundreds of years ago, most of thier leaders has come together in London and formed the single uniform model. It was time when the Commonwealth of Poland - the Commonwealth of Both Peoples has been wiped out of map. Was cutted of as the ancient logue PRAWDA - which is my legacy. Now look at your flag Mister President-Elect, all of you look at it! I will give You advice change it on black one and keep black one until 2 April 2009! Yes, i think about this one on the White House which is one that has been stolen from our Coat of PIAST LAND - SANDOMIERZ (eng/gre. KWARZMETER)!!! OHH, MY LIBERATORS!!!

While Obama says about fathers of both nations, i would like to recall one more, that was not so fascinated by his circles and ideology. And i must tell you something, if i would told to the public this story before 4th of November 2008 he will never ever sit in the Oval Office.

And after three weeks and after several letters to him, I must say that he is just acting as some fascist cultist that still listen to the people of Zbor ELI... He is like some Spanish Premier that sited down in Opera watching how his bodyguard kills somebody that has come on front of them from the Sky...

Ode to the Confederate Dead

Row after row with strict impunity
The headstones yield their names to the element,
The wind whirs without recollection;
In the riven troughs the splayed leaves

Pile up, of nature the casual sacrament
To the seasonal eternity of death;
Then driven by the fierce scrutiny
Of heaven to their election in the vast breath,

They sough the rumour of mortality.
Autumn is desolation in the plot
Of a thousand acres where these memories grow
From the inexhaustible bodies that are not

Dead, but feed the grass row after rich row.
Think of the autumns that have come and gone!--
Ambitious November with the humors of the year,
With a particular zeal for every slab,

Staining the uncomfortable angels that rot
On the slabs, a wing chipped here, an arm there:
The brute curiosity of an angel's stare
Turns you, like them, to stone,

Transforms the heaving air
Till plunged to a heavier world below
You shift your sea-space blindly
Heaving, turning like the blind crab.

Dazed by the wind, only the wind
The leaves flying, plunge
You know who have waited by the wall
The twilight certainty of an animal,

Those midnight restitutions of the blood
You know--the immitigable pines, the smoky frieze
Of the sky, the sudden call: you know the rage,
The cold pool left by the mounting flood,

Of muted Zeno and Parmenides.
You who have waited for the angry resolution
Of those desires that should be yours tomorrow,
You know the unimportant shrift of death

And praise the vision
And praise the arrogant circumstance
Of those who fall
Rank upon rank, hurried beyond decision--

Here by the sagging gate, stopped by the wall.
Seeing, seeing only the leaves
Flying, plunge and expire
Turn your eyes to the immoderate past,

Turn to the inscrutable infantry rising
Demons out of the earth--they will not last.
Stonewall, Stonewall, and the sunken fields of hemp.
Shiloh, Antietam, Malvern Hill, Bull Run.

Lost in that orient of the thick-and-fast
You will curse the setting sun.
Cursing only the leaves crying
Like an old man in a storm

You hear the shout, the crazy hemlocks point
With troubled fingers to the silence which
Smothers you, a mummy, in time.
The hound bitch

Toothless and dying, in a musty cellar
Hears the wind only.
Now that the salt of their blood
Stiffens the saltier oblivion of the sea,

Seals the malignant purity of the flood,
What shall we who count our days and bow
Our heads with a commemorial woe
In the ribboned coats of grim felicity,

What shall we say of the bones, unclean,
Whose verdurous anonymity will grow?
The ragged arms, the ragged heads and eyes
Lost in these acres of the insane green?

The gray lean spiders come, they come and go;
In a tangle of willows without light
The singular screech-owl's tight
Invisible lyric seeds the mind

With the furious murmur of their chivalry.
We shall say only the leaves
Flying, plunge and expire
We shall say only the leaves whispering

In the improbable mist of nightfall
That flies on multiple wing;
Night is the beginning and the end
And in between the ends of distraction

Waits mute speculation, the patient curse
That stones the eyes, or like the jaguar leaps
For his own image in a jungle pool, his victim.
What shall we say who have knowledge

Carried to the heart? Shall we take the act
To the grave? Shall we, more hopeful, set up the grave
In the house? The ravenous grave?
Leave now

The shut gate and the decomposing wall:
The gentle serpent, green in the mulberry bush,
Riots with his tongue through the hush--
Sentinel of the grave who counts us all!

See also

Releated video

Noviembre 2003

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