* Faerie Magic *
written by Sarah Bellum
Why don’t we travel this land as the crow flies? Why are we forced to navigate these straight rigid lines? How do we stand our ground? In a culture where private property is found. Where do all the stories go? When the system pushes out those who know; the land, the streets the neighborhood creek; the elusive feeling of what many seek. A feeling of belonging and home. A touchstone for our heart when we roam. A place as familiar as a crow. A place where we learn and grow. A place of nurturing and deep relation. A place of vulnerability and warm elation. Do we find home in particular places? Do we find home in familiar faces? They say one crow is for grief and sorrow. So I stand with you all on the land that we borrow; from the generations of tomorrow. Committed to sharing my story and listening to yours. Expressing my sadness for these capitalist wars.
The river bends my heart open and reminds me that I’m home along these muddy shores. The bird songs dance into my bones and remind me to listen as the wind pours. Through the valley, across oceans, through friends breathing bodies and into my beating drum. Through stories and dreams and death and the sun our (kin)nection eternal through this earthly hum. For I too am made up of mud. Sticks, stones, flowers and blood.
Settler traditions and pies.
Remember, Remember Native peoples cries.
The cries that are still sounding today.
As militarized police use rubber bullets, water cannons and pepper spray.
On peaceful, unarmed water protectors.
Standing their ground to petroleum prospectors.
Defending the sacred for future generations.
United in prayer with hundreds of sovereign nations.
Their people have been on this land for thousands of years.
Their history purposely forgotten due to government fears.
Of people remembering that this Earth is our home.
No matter how far we or our ancestors roam.
We all depend on clean water, air and soil.
We all know that the destroyer of these is oil.
So what is it going to take for us to stop feeding this bloated black snake?
How much longer until all of us are awake?
We are brainwashed to celebrate and believe in a false foundation.
That this day is about family and a country built on good relation.
Our country was built on slavery and genocide.
Our country was built on lies and maintaining a constant divide.
Separating, brutalizing and specializing our very mentalities.
Divide and conquer so we don’t see our human commonalities.
In reality this day is one of mourning.
A day to buy nothing and send out a warning.
To stop fattening the pockets of the corporate elite.
And focus more on making sure everyone has enough to eat.
No thanks to the media blackout. No thanks to the brainwashing in schools. No thanks to the capitalist system.
No thanks to these unjust rules. No giving into colonial isolation. No giving into the corporate consumer fixation.
Building new pipeline infrastructure is the root of our collective devastation. How do we stop this and end all land privatization? How do we shift from a place of just trying to survive? To recognizing beauty and gratitude for all that is alive? The revolution is unfolding in front of our eyes. Do we stop and listen to the stories of those who are wise? Or do we keep chasing the illusive corporate prize? Do we learn the history and become powerful allies? Or do we run blind and meet our inevitable demise?
It is up to all of us to remember. What is really being celebrated in late November.
Remember, Remember these government lies. Remember, Remember it’s our time to RISE.
I would not like to see you fall.
I would not like that, not at all.
I would like to feel you root.
Down through the pavement, now that would be cute.
Like a child in mamas womb.
Embraced and held in a cozy room.
Warm and watery, dark and deep.
A place where we grown and steep.
Into ourselves and spirit within.
Balanced and true we feel our kin-.
nection with all energy and life.
Gracefully transforming inside your wife.,
son, father, sister and brother.
With presence and intention we honor our mother.
For holding us with such care and sweetness.
Sharing her gifts and showing us deepness.
Flowing in gratitude we receive with reciprocity.
Living on this land with gentle curiosity.
Breathing into our bodies that mama made whole.
With strength and flexibility following our goal.
Of living true to ourselves and opening new ways.
Of knowing and remembering everything is a phase.
Like a wave cresting and covering in sweet embrace.
Earthly communication slowly lifting her veiled lace.
Composting energy and releasing into the unknown.
Celebrating and thanking all that is shown.
The straight lines of the patriarchy overlap the curves of goddess sky. Both contain real power. Both can make us cry. Tears of joy or sorrow. One is a gift and the other we buy. 🌾#powerlies
To some they an open road.
Of freedom and adventure, a traveling mode.
Common, busy, public spaces.
Where people travel of different genders, classes and races.
Reflective of what is valued in our culture.
An up-kept, paved and toxic sculpture.
Maintained for cars and mass transportation.
Feeding oil wars and gridded isolation.
Bicyclists are to stay off to the side.
On the broken glass, dirt and rocks where they ride.
The cars whizz by dangerously close.
While the cyclists inhale a smokey dose.
Of petro-exhast and insults to get out of the way.
But “the bicycle infrastructure is great!” So they say.
That’s when I realize this story parallels.
So many others our society tells.
My story of being young, blonde and white.
I have rode my life like a car without fright.
On roads paved of privilege and ease.
Driving my vehicle where I please.
Our culture in in denial of our collective story of separation.
Posting signs to “share the road” and ignoring the real foundation.
Of the suppressive system of injustice and inequality.
I feel overwhelmed and unsure how to change this reality.
I want to knock down the patriarchal corporate ladder.
I want to stand together and chant Black Lives Matter.
Releasing and letting go. Trusting in the cosmic flow. With gratitude for the darkness. With respect for what lies below. Life is created from destruction. Spring blossoms only after the winter snow. Composting, rotting, transformation. Every night bringing a new days glow. Surrendering to the unknown. Is the only way we can grow.
Settler traditions & pie.
Remember, remember the fourth of the lie.
The one saying all people are free.
But not in this debt slave economy.
Remove the gaze from our navels.
Remove the working class labels.
Release the fear of missing out.
Release, let go, scream & shout.
At the system that profits at our expence.
At the system that resembles a chain link fence.
Fast, easy, ugly & cheap.
Built to isolate the brainwashed sheep.
Bowing to private ownership and freedom to abuse.
Making it seem like we are able to choose.
A life of beauty or sad direction.
The illusion of freedom of expression.
Most disoriented from overwhelming suppression.
Working for poverty & missing (kin)nection.
We all want to feel like we belong.
So some travel, give aid & sing the song.
Of community togetherness and happily ever after.
And some sit depressed awaiting the rapture.
Some gnaw down festival baloney.
Giving energy to shows capitalizing on ceremony.
Consuming experiences & jet setting the globe.
Name dropping & adding to their spiritual wardrobe.
Living like a transient sucking energy out.
Of homes & communities feeding patriarchal clout.
The revolution does not happen from being cool.
Gaining followers, money or getting programmed at school.
The revolution begins when we no longer longer roam.
When we find a place to call our home.
A place that makes us feel alive.
A place that let’s community thrive.
A place where we gather & take action.
A place where we can gain real traction.
On taking down the colonial grid.
& Lifting the revolutionary lid.
Shifting individual ideals.
To community & neighborhood meals.
Getting our hands dirty & planting food.
Celebrating life & shifting the mood.
To sharing abundance all around.
Empowering each other & honoring the ground.
Beneath our feet we root to rise.
No longer believing the fourth of the lie.
Seek Handmade Original Products🌸Sustainable Local Organic Without waste🍓🌽🍇
Grateful to be here.
Even if I haven’t a clue
Of where life is going
I smile, because I’m alive with you.
Where the sun smiles, where rainbows drape,where stars shimmer, where dreams take shape, where wind dances, where the bird sings, where peace is found, where my heart swings, where the moon cycles, where clouds float by, where the rain falls, where daydreams lie, where we are all (kin)nected, under the sky.
The undulating waves of the sea.
The undulating breath of you and me.
The undulating movement that sets us free.
Air, Heart, Love is the key.
To unlocking each of our divinity.
Our bodies like an enchanted tree.
Rooting and Rising to the sky we see.
Our bodies like hot tea.
Flowing and Releasing into eternity.
In a world where everything is cased
in disposable plastic waste
the elegant creatures of the sea
are choking on plastic debris.
I take a step back and shift my perspective
on materials deemed worthless, unwanted and defective.
cleaning and transforming trash into fun
never stopping until our single-use addiction is done
banned forever! never more!
change begins here on shore.
change begins with you and me
protecting waters right to flow free.
Creative minds are on the RISE
and we do not believe your LIES
because we learned to question WHY?
Why do we waste our small pay
to buy shit we are gonna throw away?
Why are we being instilled with fear
then told to forget about it and drink a beer?
Why are we told to consume bottled water?
Why do we see protesters on the police blotter?
It’s time to hear our people’s cries
and lift the veil from our eyes.
We are done being tired, hungry and poor.
We are done playing the old game of more.
We are ready for a new tomorrow
of meeting our neighbors and remembering how to share and borrow.
Supporting each other to follow our passions
Valuing quality and ethical fashions.
Creating together and transforming the Earth.
Making sure every single person feels their self worth.
By surrounding people with LOVE and LIGHT
We are sure to have a world that’s HAPPY and BRIGHT.
Classism, racism, sexism only separate.
We need not to recognize hate.
We need to recognize that we all have one fate.
Death is the fate of us all, the deadline, the end, the fall,
Of us, as human beings
Taking, raping and wasting like kings.
Fat, lazy and dumb
Acting like babies sucking our thumb.
Calling for mommy and biting her hand.
So disconnected from the land
beneath our feet and artificial ground
Dig down deep and Mother Earth is found
Being disrespectful everyday
Cutting down forests just for a pay
With fake invisible money
Given out from those who exploit and think its funny.
They don’t see death and destruction as bad
They only wonder if they can turn profit on this new fad.
From the skinny jeans to the nike pumps
Consumerism, junk food and cheap humps.
This is the ultimate wish
Of the 1% of people who are extremely selfish
And depressed from lack of love and too much pie
Little do they know, they soon will die.
No heaven above, No hell below
People’s energies are simply returned to the COSMOS.