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Muzzled People

I enjoy writing as a meditative practice, while all in the house creatures or human, are sleeping I at last awaken to my soul



You’ve been muzzled

Activist wanna be:

You’ve been muzzled

Gentle person:

You’ve been muzzled


You’ve been muzzled

Intelligent CIA guy

You’ve been muzzled


You’ve been muzzled

Father too



Simon Says

Are you smiling behind there?

I can’t find you. I can’t see you, I can’t hear your muffled sobs behind your muzzle

You have your back to me and pretend I am not there.

We can’t be friends, even if it occurs to us, that maybe we could be friends, if one of us tried.

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We’ve been muzzled so that it’s hard to speak with our face.

We are monkeys. See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil.

You are a prisoner in your house now

You cannot let your mother breath in your room

Or you will die

The muzzle is like a strait jacket

The makers of this thing, monkeys themselves, chortle in the darkness, pointing fingers at the muzzled people who move to the magic wand waved over their heads; they chant Simon says now bow down.

Simon says walk the narrow line

Simon says now JUMP!

All meekly obey because Simon is very important and will fine you for disobedience or worse make you sleep in a jail. So what? You are already in a prison of your home.

Simon wears a badge.

Simon has a fat wallet

Simon sells you the new Norm

Your muzzle comes in all colors

You can even wear the flag over your smiling lips

And wave your flag ever loyal to your dying nation

Ever virtuous, you are still muzzled

Years later

You are still muzzled

Like the guard dog in your yard

The one that gave up barking, broken in spirit

It’s been muzzled

Barking is hard to do in the muzzle

And the chain keeps the animal restrained

The animal likes the bone Simon throws

Simon removes the muzzle so the dog can eat

We the people are muzzled and tethered

They say it’s the new “norm.”

Years later, we can’t remember what normal was

We have become machines with no character, no personality, no philosophy, no love of life, no job, no money, imprisoned in a world we don’t remember creating.

We long to work, to play, to breath freely, to smile, to be seen, to love and be loved. We have longings Simon says don’t matter

Mother is dead

She is a distant memory

She went to the hospital and they killed her

And all this time you thought hospitals were where you went to get well

Years go by and you somehow escaped the fate of some invisible enemy that stalked you down through the years. Yet the moment you were muzzled you began to die, while you thought it was the path to life; you walked the straight and narrow to your death. Now you sit and wait for your breath to be gone from your body that you guard so well. You ignore your spirit cravings for the flesh must be worshiped above all else.

Simon says all is good.

All is not good


Dying To Live

When all the fight is gone from you

You die

Even with a muzzle on, you die.

The vaccine did not protect you, it killed you and you were willing to believe it would give you more life.

Ho hum. Now what to do? You go somewhere between heaven and hell as a spirit. You sit around a table and talk with others about planning a new life, in a new body.

You say to one another; hmm, I didn’t like being muzzled.

The others nod in the affirmative, it was wrong. It felt wrong, but we did it anyway.

What shall we do now the others ask. And it is your burning question too.

Maybe it’s not what to do, so much as what NOT to do? So an aha moment comes. And a piece of your soul that broke off comes back.


The Air Is Sweet With Forever Scents

But yet, he who gives his all, he gains his soul, never to lose it again, a king within his palace. No one knocks upon his door to take him to jail for thinking.

And he sails his ship proudly on the sea, despite dangers lurk, he is immortal he knows. He has lost his fear of death and found courage. And he knows he is never alone now.

For God was always within him and gave him a compass to follow.

Strange to see the puppeteer looking everywhere for his puppets. They suddenly came to life and cut the strings. And God looked upon the world and said, ah, that is good. That is VERY good!

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