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Poem32 Under the Gun in All Countries


By Jon Rappoport | NoMoreFakeNews.com | OutsideTheRealityMachine

Image "Malevolence" by William Blake [PD]


August 10, 2015

It's time Travel on the web!  Political Satire, Cartoons, Art & Short Stories to free your mind

Everyone knows
there is no medicine in a poem
medicine is too bland a subject for sentences that are supposed to touch the sky in a poem
and someone suffering a serious illness must see a doctor

Living in a dream is one thing but a medicine that spins the brain around to attack itself
cannot be contained in a poem

We cannot talk about the number of deaths from medicines in a poem

We cannot talk about falsified medical studies supporting the use of a poison

We cannot talk about the silent war on the population a war of injections a war of arrogant foot soldiers in white coats and drugged people dying in hospitals and driven to mortuaries

Or the Justice Department ignoring a million deaths a decade we can’t talk about that can’t talk about the Attorney General this isn’t the subject for a poem

Or the FDA Mafia Genghis Attila

Or a child whose brain shuts down after a vaccine

Can’t talk about that

Or the everyday Earth culture spreading medical death

Or the presidents and premiers and prime ministers and kings and dictators who pretend not to notice
stuffing their pockets with blood money

Or the doctors on television mouthing garbage for the medical police state

We can’t talk about that

Or the medical reporters for the New York Times and the Washington Post and the Wall St. Journal covering up the crimes

We can’t talk about that

We can’t talk about the medical schools corrupting young souls eager to sell their souls we can’t talk about that

We can’t talk about citizens slowly marching in the bleak half-light channels of death toward the cemeteries and what happened to them in doctors’ offices and hospitals

We can’t talk about the pills that cause heart attacks and strokes or the antidepressants that push people over the edge to commit random murders or the diabolical Johnny Appleseed pharmaceutical companies that plant the drugs everywhere as a precursor to the murders

We can’t talk about that in a poem

We can’t talk about the hypnotized population and their willingness to accept death as a cure

We can’t talk about the new generation of vaccines that will plant genes in humans and permanently alter their DNA

We can’t talk about the killers performing injections on babies at birth or the laws that mandate it or the fathers and mothers who stand by and watch or the bloodthirsty zombies who sit in academic towers and accept research grants to create more poison

Not in a poem

We can’t talk about that

We can’t talk about the monopoly of paid experts who camouflage the whole operation and the State that backs up the monopoly with courts and guns

We can’t talk about the men and women and children in psych wards and the “finely tuned” procedures that hack out pieces of their brains and send shock waves of electricity through their bodies causing grand mal seizures

Not in a poem

We can’t talk about the fake epidemics and the orders to take vaccines to protect against viruses that don’t even exist

We certainly can’t resort to citations such as the July 26, 2000, review published in the Journal of the American Medical Association by Dr. Barbara Starfield, who at the time was a revered public health expert at the John Hopkins School of Public Health, and her conclusion that every year, like clockwork, the US medical system kills 225,000 people, which when extrapolated, turns into to 2.25 million killings per decade a figure that stops minds in their tracks

We can’t discuss that in a poem

Or mention the word genocide or holocaust

And we can’t discuss the drugs causing new symptoms that are then diagnosed as unrelated diseases requiring more poisonous drugs we can’t begin to discuss that

Everyone knows there is no medicine in a poem

medicine is too bland a subject for sentences that are supposed to touch the sky in a poem
and someone suffering a serious illness must see a doctor

reputations must be protected
money must be protected
the State must be protected
the hypnotized must be protected
prestige must be protected
androids must be protected


In a poem, we can’t discuss military research aimed at inserting images directly into the brain or the surveillance of brain activity in real time

Or the wall of a wave against magic that gives birth to the conclusion that the brain is the mind and the brain is nothing more than whirling atoms whose course and destiny is preordained by the laws of the universe, therefore erasing the possibility of freedom

We can’t discuss the population control vaccines engineered to cause miscarriages

We can’t discuss the politicians who cover up the murders

And the childlike faith of the voters

We can’t discuss any of this in a poem

Or the people who lie down in their beds and wait patiently for the end

Or the relatives who nod in agreement
…all concerned are obediently following the best advice…

…while life ebbs away…

Once, long ago, a dutiful son roared at me in a hospital waiting room that his father, who had been diagnosed with stage four lung cancer, had to receive chemotherapy, although the doctor who suggested it said it wouldn’t make one drop of difference…

And then, years later, the same son asked me if I knew how to kill his older sister, who was decaying in a nursing home under the daily assault of brain dissolving medicines…

This is not an “issue”

This is not an “issue”

This is not something to be spoken of


***

(Poem32 under the gun in all countries  reprinted here with permission of the of the author.)


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